The aftermath of the training was already fading. The air was cold, not biting, but viscous, that particular cold of the wasteland that seeps into your bones and settles somewhere in your spine. Arktia walked ahead. As always, actually. Over the past few days, Verd had noticed one peculiarity. Every time he tried to walk alongside her, she quickened her pace and ended up ahead again.
'So she doesn't want to walk next to me?' - he thought, sniffing his hand. - 'I don't smell like anything, do I?'
He didn't ask. Because he had learned: questions she didn't want to answer, she simply ignored. And if you asked twice, you'd get a stone to the head.
The hours were empty. Only sand, stones, sky. Verd looked at the horizon, where the sky merged with the earth, and thought the wasteland was endless. That they would walk forever. That this day would never end.
And then something hissed under his feet.
He looked down and saw a lizard for the first time in his life. It ran quickly and deftly between his legs, leaving in his memory a bright green color that seemed to flash against the gray dust. In an instant, the flexible little body had already disappeared into the grass, leaving behind only a slight swaying of the stems. He stood motionless for a long time, trying to hold onto this unexpected miracle that had flashed so suddenly at his very feet.
-What is that?
Arktia stopped and quickly threw over her shoulder.
-An ordinary lizard.
She was about to walk on, but noticed how he was looking. How he froze, as if he had seen not a lizard, but something impossible.
She paused. Then asked, carefully and almost gently:
-Do you want to learn more about monsters?
***
-Look, - Arktia said, tilting her head.
Verd raised his head. Slowly, as if overcoming an invisible weight, he tore his gaze from the sand and looked ahead. Ahead, on the sand, lay a shadow. It darkened the golden surface, sharp and clear, though there was no stone, no pillar, nothing nearby that could cast it. It was moving. Not like a cloud, like something alive. The shadow flowed across the sand slowly, cautiously, as if creeping, and in its outlines there was something tense, expectant.
-What is that? - he asked.
His voice sounded hollow and uncertain, and Verd himself was surprised at how quietly he said it, as if he were afraid of scaring the creature.
-Look.
Arktia added nothing more. Just that short word, spoken calmly and firmly, as if she had long known that something interesting was about to happen.
The shadow rose. A creature grew from the sand. Translucent, shimmering, it iridesced with all colors, like oil on water. Its outlines trembled and changed, and it seemed to consist not of flesh, but of the very air condensed over the desert.
It had no face, no eyes, but he felt its gaze upon him. It was a strange, almost unbearable sensation: emptiness, devoid of sight, yet still watching, and watching specifically him.
-Phantom scorpion, - Arktia said, and her voice trembled slightly. - Not dangerous. If you don't touch it.
Verd shifted his gaze to Arktia and saw a small drop of sweat on her forehead.
'What's with her?' - his body leaned a little lower to see more. - 'As if she saw something frightening.'
The girl seemed to notice Verd's interested lean, that barely perceptible movement with which he involuntarily leaned forward. So within a second she returned to normal, as if that momentary weakness had never happened, and with one glance, short, firm, brooking no objection, forced him to return his attention to the scorpion.
The creature stood motionless, and Verd felt its gaze penetrating through skin, through muscle, through bone. As if invisible rays passed right through him, meeting no barriers, and there was no way to close oneself off, to hide, to divert that attention.
-Let's go, - Arktia said.
She walked forward. Her step was even and confident, without a trace of hesitation, like someone who knows the path perfectly.
The creature didn't move. Just stood, watched, and Verd felt its gaze on his back even when they disappeared behind the dune.
-Why did the scorpion stand still? - he asked.
-In wastelands like this, most insects are eusocial. Someone goes out to scout, then reports the information to the others.
Verd felt a strange pang, sharp and unexpected, like a splinter under a fingernail. He suddenly thought that even these vile insects, these phantom scorpions, didn't live on their own. They had their own swarm, their own kin, their own hive, where they returned and where they were awaited. And him?
All his life in the mines, he had been alone. Among the crowd, alone. Among the equally outcast, alone. Even when he killed to survive, there was no one beside him to cover his back or at least just stand nearby. He had always been on his own. And perhaps that was exactly why the thought that some insect could be part of something greater than himself scratched him deeper than it should have.
They walked on. The sun rose higher, and the heat became unbearable. The air trembled over the sand like transparent glass, and every breath burned his throat. Verd felt sweat streaming down his back, gathering at his waist, soaking the fabric. His clothes stuck to his body as if they had been soaked. His tongue was dry and seemed foreign in his mouth.
-How much farther are we planning to go?
-Who knows, - Arktia responded without turning around.
There was neither fatigue nor irritation in her voice, only lazy calm, which irritated him.
The sand under his feet stirred.
Verd stopped, searching for the source, and looked down. From under his boot, pushing apart the grains, something small and fast crawled out, with many thin legs and long, trembling antennae. It circled around his leg as if dancing, leaving thin spirals of tracks on the sand.
-Sand runner, - Arktia said. - Don't pay attention. If you give it something, it won't let go.
'Is that really a monster?' - Verd bent down to look closer. The creature was the size of a palm, covered in chitin that shimmered in the sun like mica. - 'Doesn't look particularly dangerous.'
In that same second, the runner latched onto his leg.
The pain was sharp, unexpected, disproportionate to the creature's size. It bit into the skin like a red-hot needle, and Verd fell onto his back with a scream, hitting the sand. His hands grabbed at his shin, fingers found the chitinous body, but he couldn't tear it off. The mandibles held tight, like pliers.
'Like hell it's not dangerous!'
Arktia turned to glance at him and sighed heavily. Her face remained calm, but the corners of her lips twitched slightly. She didn't rush to help and watched the scene with crossed arms.
-I told you: don't pay attention. It bit you because you bent down.
-And what am I supposed to do now?! - Verd jerked his leg, but the runner only bit deeper.
-Wait a bit, it'll let go on its own.
Verd sat on the sand, clutching his leg, feeling the small teeth sinking deeper. The pain pulsed, echoing in his knee, in his thigh. But from helplessness, all he could do was glare angrily into the creature's black eyes. After a minute, having thoroughly enjoyed his suffering, the runner released its jaws, jumped off, and sped away, leaving a thin trail behind.
-I hate this wasteland, - Verd said, getting up and brushing sand off his clothes.
-Really? I find it interesting here, - Arktia murmured, stepping forward.
Verd trudged after her, feeling his leg pulsing. The bite wasn't deep, but it was insulting, as if he had just been bitten not by a creature, but by the wasteland itself, reminding him that here he was nobody.
They descended into a hollow where the sand was softer, deeper. His feet sank, each step requiring effort. Verd looked at his feet to avoid stumbling, and so didn't immediately notice that his companion had stopped.
-Arktia, - he said, grabbing her hand. - I think I'm about to fall. Is it really safe here?
-Are you doubting me?
Feeling the sudden touch, Arktia's whole body tensed, and almost instantly, she pulled her hand away.
She was about to say something else, but at that moment, the ground beneath her trembled. She took a step and fell through. Not deep, up to her knee, but unexpectedly. The sand around her leg swelled, rippled, as if something was moving beneath it.
-Are you alright? - he asked.
Instead of answering, in one instant Arktia lunged forward, so fast that Verd didn't have time to understand what had happened. Her hand grabbed his wrist, yanked, making him stumble back. And in the next second, from under the sand, tearing it like paper, burst a huge worm.
It soared into the sky, arching. Long, segmented, covered in wet, glistening skin. Even a tenth of its body hadn't emerged from the sand, but that didn't make it any less dangerous, and Verd couldn't imagine how enormous this creature was. The worm crashed back down, raising a fountain of sand, and disappeared into the depths.
-Desert worms, - Arktia said, raising her hand. - Extremely annoying monsters because of their unexpected attacks.
She spoke calmly, but Verd noticed: as she spoke, her gaze slid to her palm. The very hand she had held him with. For a moment her face twitched. She took out a handkerchief and ran it over her palm, once, quickly, almost imperceptibly.
Verd pretended not to notice and cautiously looked toward the monster.
-And how do you fight them then?
Arktia didn't answer. Instead, a very bright spear flared above her palm. Long, twisted like a spindle. It shot from her hand and embedded itself in the sand where the worm had just disappeared. There was a dull, wet explosion. The sand turned black, a crater appeared, and a column of steam burst from the ground.
-Just strike where it went, - Arktia said proudly.
The worm tumbled out. Charred, twisted, it crashed onto the sand, raising dust. Its body twitched once, twice, then went limp and slowly sank back into the pit it had crawled from.
'Well, that's horrifying... Dealing with such a huge monster so quickly' - the only thought in his head. - 'Speaking of which, that spear...'
In all the time he had known Arktia, she had demonstrated various things: water from air, fire from her palm, a blade from nowhere. He looked at her and thought: how do you use techniques? Where's the limit? Is there one at all?
-How do you use techniques? And what's their limit?
Arktia stood for a second, looking somewhere into the sand, then sighed, very lazily, like a person torn from an important task, though there was no task at all.
-Limit... - she drawled. - Hm. I don't even know where to start.
She grew thoughtful, and quite seriously, which was visible on her face. Though she was an experienced warrior, giving a precise answer that even someone like Verd would understand was difficult.
-Fine, - she said at last. - Only this... is hard to explain. Because the techniques, they're not mine.
-What? - Verd raised an eyebrow high.
-I didn't invent them. Didn't learn them. I don't understand how they work. They're just... - she tapped her fingers near her temple - ...right here. Like someone else's memory. I know that if you do it this way, you get light. If that way, you get water. But I don't know why. And I can't explain it. Of course, with a high level of cultivation, you could say you already remember them yourself.
'Didn't invent and didn't learn?' - Verd tensed slightly as if he had heard something impossible. - 'Maybe she's one of those geniuses who know everything from birth?'
She raised her hand. A small spark of light flared on her palm.
-Then where did they come from?
Arktia narrowed her eyes. Looked at him for a long time, calmly, without expression. Then looked away.
-From a parasite, - she said, as if reluctantly. - Techniques are transmitted through a parasite. It puts them into your brain. Like... - she waved her hand in the air - ...like nails into a board. Bam, and done. You just know. You don't understand. You don't feel. You just know.
She fell silent. Verd looked at her, but she didn't look back.
'You mean I'll have to let some creature into my head?'
-Each parasite has its own set of techniques, - she continued. - Like... like tools. One has fire. Another has water. A third has something worse. And when the parasite is in you, you get them. As if they were always yours.
-And you can't learn them yourself?
-It's possible, but extremely slow. - Arktia extended her arm, and on her forearm appeared a bright fragment of armor, not of gold, but of light. - This technique was developed by my family over 300 years. I merely finished it, so you can't say it's my invention.
Arktia leisurely picked up a nearby stick and began drawing something resembling a head on the sand.
-Look. Parasites are living creatures, so they need their own place too. And as you've probably guessed, the best place is in the head.
-In the head? Why?
Arktia ran the stick over the drawing and made several diamonds on the crown.
-Because it's the fastest way to transmit information. And also, only in the head are the "nests" located. So choose techniques wisely, the number of nests is limited, and if a parasite takes a spot, you can't get rid of it.
'So I'll have to share my brain with some beetles.'
Verd put his hand on the back of his head and scratched a little, imagining some worm crawling into him through his ears.
-By the way, how many nests do you have?
Arktia narrowed her eyes and turned her head very slowly.
-That's already impudent.
-Just curious.
-Curious, is he, - she snorted. - Fine. I have five. But that's because I'm one of the genetic monsters. Since you're my student and have seen a couple of abilities, I'll tell you about three of them.
She paused. Then raised her hand and began counting on her fingers.
-First, Mneumofag. It allows me to briefly look into someone's mind.
Verd swallowed hard, realizing that nothing could be hidden from Arktia, and hoped she wouldn't use this ability on him. How unfortunate for him that she had already used it while he slept.
-Second, "Sulakhita." I got it completely by accident. It allows me to control light and water. And the last one, my family's technique. "Daylight" it allows me to turn light into armor or a weapon.
-Wow! That's really interesting. The other two must be very strong too.
Arktia sighed. Lazily, as if she couldn't be bothered to explain further and accept praise.
-But shouldn't everything have drawbacks?
-The body, - she said. - You know the core can be strong. But the body is a vessel. If the vessel is weak, it will crack.
She flexed her bent fingers, as if stretching them.
-Also, the channels play a major role. Spiritual energy flows through the channels. They're given from birth. They can't be grown. Only strengthened. If a technique requires more channels than you have, the energy goes around. Tears muscles. Breaks bones. - She yawned. - Example. I had an acquaintance, rank of Knight. He decided he was strong enough to use a Lord's technique. Well... - she waved her hand in the air - ...it tore him apart. Where his arm had been, only a puddle and pieces remained.
Verd swallowed.
-I understand that. But why do you call these parasites by names?
Arktia's face remained unchanged, but there was something new in it, as if she were looking at a person asking a stupid question.
Abruptly standing up and dusting herself off, she opened her mouth:
-Because it's uncivilized not to call by name those you've spent enough time with. - She turned away and walked on. - These parasites have their own "True name," and it will be revealed to you only when you fully absorb it.
-Let's go. We need to make it before dark.
Verd looked at his hand. At the scars, at the fingers gripping the spear. He didn't understand. Didn't understand how light becomes a weapon. Didn't understand how wind helps you dodge. Didn't understand how the earth holds him. But he wanted to understand. And that, perhaps, was the main thing.
***
The sun was already tilting toward sunset, shadows growing longer, the air beginning to cool. Verd felt exhaustion spreading through his body, but he didn't complain. Complaining was useless, Arktia wouldn't slow down anyway.
-Soon, - Arktia said.
-What?
-Oasis.
He raised his head. In the distance, between the rocks, water glistened. Clear, transparent, it reflected the sunset sky, and it seemed that down there was another sky, another world, another life.
-What is that?
They descended into the hollow. The sand became damp, firm. The first bushes appeared: dry, prickly, but alive. Verd looked at them and thought these were the first plants he had seen in days.
-I thought there was nothing in this desert besides sand and monsters, - he said with a note of irony.
They rounded a dune, and before them opened an oasis. A small lake surrounded by palms and tall grass. The water was calm, transparent, and he could see the bottom: sand, stones, seaweed. Small fish swam near the shore, their scales glistening in the sunset rays. Verd stood, watching, and couldn't believe it. After days spent in the wasteland, where there was only sand, stones, and sky, this patch of land seemed a miracle.
-Beautiful, - he said.
Arktia sat on a stone, took several fruits from her ring, and tossed some to him.
-How did you know about this place?
-Let's just say I simply see much more than you. - She said it as if praising herself.
The water was calm. Fish swam near the shore. The sun was setting, and the sky in the west burned red, like blood, like a sunset he had seen many times, but each time it was different.
Verd sat on a stone, looking at the water, thinking about what she had said. "I simply see much more than you." Not boasting. Just a fact. She always knew more. Always saw further. Always was ahead.
-Arktia, - he said. - Do you think I have a chance to become as strong as you?
She didn't answer immediately. Looked at the water, and her face was calm, but he saw she was thinking. About something she wasn't saying. She was silent for a long time. Verd didn't rush her. Looked at the water, at the fish, at the sunset, and waited.
-You just don't know too many things yet, - she said at last. - Once I was just like you. Couldn't do anything. Didn't know anything. As I said before, everyone is afraid. However, Verd. - Arktia looked into his eyes, making the guy freeze. - You are much stronger than me. You just don't know it yet.
Verd only smirked and wanted to say something, but he heard a sound. A rustle. Then the crack of a branch. Then voices.