1 BEWARE THE NIGHT
Astaria, 1362, The Present, The Glittering Desert
The first moon of Astaria shone full and bright, suspended in the sky as it cast an eerie glow. A blood piercing scream shrieked over the desolate wasteland below. The scream was soon followed by another, and then another as the turbid creatures responsible for the cacophony competed for prey and territory well into the night. Behind the moon lingered a second smaller moon, hidden within the ever present shadow of its larger sister. It whispered secrets about the invisible current of sparkling energy permeating through the air and drifting through the night, forever watching as it seeped into the spaces between the darkness - constantly searching for a receptive ear to discover its hidden truths, but forever overshadowed by the screams of the Demons that prowled below within the moonlight.
Far off to the northeast, hidden amongst the dunes of softly glittering desert sand made up of a mosaic of many colors, a small canyon system cut through the surrounding cliffs. Hidden within the depths of coarse stone was a small, long forgotten bunker carved within the material of the surrounding rocks. The glittering sand, almost as hard and sharp as tiny shards of glass, swirled around the bunker's entrance, sending tiny razor-edged particles blowing across the desert floor. The air was thick with the acrid smell of ozone and dust, and the wind howled through the cracks in the bunker's walls like a chorus of restless spirits. Inside, two figures huddled together on a bed made of patchwork pillows and mended blankets nestled amongst each other in a corner on the floor, their faces illuminated only by the faint glow of a small flickering lantern.
The air was stale and heavy, thick with the scent of their sweat and the fear that clung to the bunker's walls like a damp shroud. But amidst the starkness of the desolate surroundings, a glimmer of beauty and wonder had been crafted within this space by the larger of the two's own clawed hands. The walls, at one time barren and gray, now danced with a kaleidoscope of colors against the deep blue backdrop when the lighting was just right, as vibrant as the stars that twinkled outside in the sky at night.
Celestial motifs, lovingly collected and scavenged from the debris strewn across the ruined wasteland of her world, adorned the bunker's walls. Crystals and stars gently swayed as they hung from the ceiling, strung with care so that the gentle breeze from between the cracks in the old stone walls would catch them and make a gentle tinkling sound as they swayed back and forth. A delicate filigree of silver and gold, blue and yellow, etched with intricate patterns of suns and moons glistened in the candlelight. A stained glass window depicting the human Goddess Ceres, salvaged from a long-abandoned cathedral, cast a magnificent display of color across the floor when the sun shone through. There was a small, ornate music box, its mechanisms long silenced by the passage of time, atop a dusty shelf - its delicate human dancing figure frozen in perpetual dance, gazing down at the Beasts within as they lived their daily lives.
These treasures, gathered from the ruins of human civilization, had become a testament to Magda's prowess as a scavenger and survivor. They told the story of her journeys through the wasteland, where she had braved the dangers of bomb-scarred landscapes and marauding gangs to bring back these small wonders to her hideaway. She knew that they would bring a small amount of joy to her daughter, and to her, that meant everything. The screams outside grew louder - more urgent - as if the creatures that were responsible were trying to summon something from beyond the ruins of the shattered world outside. The wind buffeted the bunker's walls, making the frame creak in places where it had been patched together with tin and metal. The bunker groaned like a living thing. The two figures clung to each other, their eyes fixed on the lantern’s flame as if it were their only lifeline.
Donut trembled within her mother's arms, fearing the creatures outside despite knowing that like any other night, she was safe within Magda's arms. As she gazed upon her collection, Magda's eyes sparkled with a sense of pride and determination. She had created a sanctuary within these cold, dark walls, a place where beauty and wonder could still be found in a world that had been ravaged by destruction long before she had first laid eyes on it. And as she settled in for the long night, surrounded by her treasures, she felt a sense of comfort and security that only came from knowing that she was safe within the own private universe she had created for herself and her daughter. Magda stroked her child's hair and hushed her as the youngling let out a small whimper. The monsters scared her, and even after five whole years of hearing their screams, the night always terrified her the most. Magda's hideaway was small but safe - she had made sure to secure the best available fortress in the area long before the little one had been born.
As Magda's fingers stroked her daughter's hair, Donut's trembling subsided and she nuzzled closer to her mother's warmth. The young Beasts's eyes, like two shining stars, gazed up at Magda's face, seeking reassurance that the monsters outside couldn't harm them. Magda's own eyes, filled with a deep love and concern, met her daughter's, and she whispered softly, "Shh, little one. Mama's here. You're safe."
The monsters outside continued their keening howls, joining in with the wind to create a haunting symphony that played out just the same as every other night. The creatures within the realm knew the routine - keep quiet and hidden until daylight, and then watch out for monsters of a completely different kind - each other. Magda whispered softly to Donut, assuring her once again that they were safe. Donut clung to her mother, her small paws gripping onto Magda's shirt as she buried her face into her chest, seeking comfort in the familiar scent of Magda's fur. Magda's heart ached for her daughter. She wished she could do more to shield Donut from the horrors of their world, but she knew that it would be impossible. No matter which corner of Astaria she chose to hide her daughter in, there would be more of the same waiting for them - natural disaster, thieves, murderous demons and humans, though the latter was the least of Magda's concerns.
Magda knew that this moment, huddled in safety with her daughter was only temporary, and soon she would need to leave Donut alone in the shack yet again. Their supplies were getting low, but Magda felt that Donut was still too young to travel away from the bunker for longer than the day was light, though Magda wouldn't ever consider bringing her daughter outside either way. Donut could glimpse the outside and reach her small hand out to touch the glitter sand from a small repaired section at the back of the bunker, but she had never stepped foot beyond the single door that served as both entrance and exit. As the night wore on, Magda's gentle whispers and the soothing scent of her fur seemed to calm Donut's fears, but Magda's own heart was heavy with the weight of their reality. She knew that the world outside was a cruel and unforgiving place, where the strong preyed on the weak, and survival was a constant struggle.
The creatures of the realm were a diverse and often brutal bunch. There were humans who had long since abandoned their cities and returned to the wild, forced to adapt to a harsh environment where every day was a fight for survival. Then there were the demons, creatures from another realm that had been drawn to the world's energy and chaos after the Tear had formed in the sky. And through all of the chaos the inhabitants of the planet thrust on each other, there were the natural disasters that plagued the land - earthquakes, storms, and fires that could destroy everything in their path - a testament to the wrath of Ceres, the spirit of Astaria herself.
But, for the night, Magda would not worry her daughter. She held her tighter and closed her eyes, and eventually the two Beasts drifted off into a light, restless sleep. The night passed slowly, and every so often Magda would roll her bloodshot eyes open and peer around the room, making sure all was secure. Magda kept a watchful eye on her sleeping daughter, her own exhaustion continually threatening to pull her into a deep sleep she could not afford to succumb to. When she was sure her daughter would not wake, Magda carefully slid herself from Donut's clutches and tiptoed across the room to the corner where she performed her craft of making fine clothing out of refurbished cloths she scavenged and traded for in the wasteland. Magda would take her creations to the nearest settlement and trade them for the supplies she and Donut needed to survive alone in their hidden sanctuary.
Magda focused on her needle and thread as the Demons clawed at the door. She hated when they ventured this close. She steadied her breathing and watched the needle as it moved, in and out, in and out of the beautiful silk cloth before her. In her mind, she told herself over and over that the sun would come up soon. She ignored their whispers and taunts, clenching her eyes shut as she reminded herself the voices weren’t real. Late into the night, she once again slid down onto the bedding beside Donut and finally, she closed her eyes.
When daylight began to creep over the horizon and peek into the bunker through the top of the stained glass, Magda gently eased herself from Donut's grip, careful not to wake her. She moved silently around the small shack, gathered what little supplies they had left and prepared to venture out into the unforgiving landscape. She paused at the makeshift dress form she used for most of her creations and placed her hand gently against the scuffed blank face that stared back at her. As she always did before venturing out into the wastes, Magda said a small prayer to her mother and father and then turned to gaze down at the small sleeping child on the floor.
With one last look at Donut, who was nestled peacefully amidst the piles of fabric and pillows upon the floor, Magda took a deep breath and turned. She opened the door gently. The crack of bright morning light was a stark contrast to the darkness of the night, and Magda's eyes adjusted slowly to the new surroundings. She took a deep breath and stretched as the cool air filled her lungs, and gazed out at the wasteland beyond the entrance of their tiny fortress. Her vision cleared and the landscape stretched out before her, a barren expanse of dusty terrain, cracked earth, and twisted metal dotting the distance.
The ruins of what once had been great cities built by humans lay scattered, a reminder of the devastation that had ravaged the world. Magda's gaze was drawn to the South, where the distant silhouette of a mountain range loomed. She knew she had to move quickly. The nearest Beast-friendly trading post, Breaker's, was miles to the Southwest, and she could only move while the sun's light was in the sky. Magda pulled the shawl closer around her face and thought about the world she had brought Donut into as she walked.
The reflection of the sun off of the glitter desert was blinding, and Magda focused on step after step as she so desperately wished she had more water with her. She licked her lips as she watched a small group of Glimmerwings basking themselves on the rocky outcrops in the bright sunlight, their scales reflecting the colors of the sand and creating a beautiful light display on the ground below them. The lizards lay with their bodies flattened out and soaking in the sunlight, totally oblivious to the Beast who trudged along on her own. She took a small sip from her Demon horn flask and continued on.
The desert stretched out before her like a shimmering tapestry, a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to pulse and vibrate in the scorching heat of the sun. The air was alive with the intense warmth of its rays, which beat down upon the dunes with a relentless ferocity. The sand itself was a mesmerizing swirl of colors, a rainbow-hued expanse of emerald, sapphire, and amethyst that seemed to shift and change with every step she took. The sky above was filled with the raucous cries of Sandstarriors, territorial birds that ruled over this domain with fierce precision. Their feathers were a dazzling array of blues and golds, and their piercing gazes seemed to bore into Magda’s very soul as crept past their sentinel forms.
Scattered throughout the desert were sparse tufts of vegetation, hardy plants that had adapted to the harsh conditions over the years. These tiny oases were a haven for the lizards and other creatures, providing a respite from the unforgiving heat. The sand itself seemed to be alive, as if it were being shaped by some unseen force. The stone emerged from the rainbow sand like ghostly apparitions, ancient formations that seemed to hold secrets and stories of their own.
The air was thick with the scent of heat and dry earth, and one could feel the weight of the desert's history bearing down. This was a place where time stood still, where the very essence of the land seemed to pulse with a life of its own. As one walked through this shimmering expanse of color and light, one felt oneself becoming one with the desert, lost in its infinite beauty and wonder.
Now, the only thing she could feel was the dryness in her paw pads under her leather wraps as the sunlight reflected off of the sandy glitter shards around her and evaporated all moisture from the air. Magda thought of the contrast between the colorful sand and the stories of the living plants of the Emerald Forest far to the West. She had heard of what life was like in the cover of the forest, but she had never traveled that far to see the green trees for herself. The forests were said to be worse than the open land, with many places for thieves and creatures and Demons alike to hide and lie in wait for ambush. To the east lay another thick forest, but all of the creatures within the realm avoided this land, for it was rumored that the trees were full of dark spirits and monsters waiting to snatch even the toughest raider. Those who entered were often never seen again, and if they did manage to come back, they were forever changed in subtle ways.
One foot in front of the other, Magda continued on. Slung over her back was a large canvas pack filled with the most beautiful gowns and scarves that she herself had made from salvaged fabric and cloth that she carefully and lovingly hand stitched together. With each stitch of her clothing when she worked, Magda thought of her own mother and a time that seemed so long ago, when they were still sitting together and safe and contained within their world, stitching together side by side. She knew with her quality of stitch work, her clothing would fetch a good price in trade if the right travelers were wandering the Scrapyard.
Fashion had been a vital part of Astarian culture long before the Beasts had come along, as a way for individuals to express themselves in a world that had often stripped them of their humanity. The original Astarians had embraced bold colors, intricate patterns, and luxurious fabrics, using clothing as a form of armor against the harsh realities of their world, and the Beasts had fallen right into the customs that had been forced upon them in their imprisonment. Magda had been skilled with a needle and thread since the days of growing up with her mother, and now she turned simple scraps of fabric into works of art that caught the eye of many within the trading post.
The sudden screech of metal rending metal snapped Magda out of her thoughts. She let out a breath of air that she didn't realize she had been holding and looked up. She adjusted the strap on her bag and proceeded to move forward. Before her, towering over the edge of the horizon, fortified behind heavy stone walls sat the Scrapyard. Here, Breaker and his crew worked hard year round at salvaging as much of the busted machinery and twisted metal as they could find from the desert and turning it all into something that could be useful once again.
Much of the knowledge and secrets of the old technology was lost to both the Beasts and the few humans that still wandered the realm, but Breaker worked diligently in selecting his inner circle to do their part and try to bring something good to the Beasts who found themselves thrust into the wasteland. The sun beat down on the worn asphalt as Magda waited patiently by the massive front gates outside of the Scrapyard walls. The air was thick with the acrid smell of rust and oil, and the sounds of bustling Beasts echoed through the desolate landscape stretching beyond.
To her left, a group of nomadic traders had set up their colorful tents and wagons, their brightly dressed Aeropex and Miremules munching on the sparse grass that grew around the scrapyard entrance. The traders themselves lounged in the shade, their weathered faces creased by the desert sun as they watched Magda with a mixture of curiosity and admiration of her inventory. On her right, a group of scavengers from the nearby wasteland towns had gathered, their makeshift armor and weapons an indication of their harsh existence. They eyed Magda warily, their faces scarred and weathered from their years spent fighting for survival.
Ahead of her, the gates of the scrapyard loomed tall, their metal walls covered in layers of rust and cobwebs. Magda approached the gate and waited with a few other Beasts while the men on the other side started the arduous process of opening the heavy front gates for the duration of the day. As she moved clear of the gathering crowd and waited, Magda's gaze drifted to the other travelers who had come in with the caravans. A group of younglings, their eyes wide with wonder at the persistent sights and sounds of the Scrapyard within, chased each other around the parked wagons, their laughter carrying on the wind. A few older younglings sat cross-legged on the ground, their faces intent on small toys or games they had brought from their homes.
A group of travelers from the southern wasteland cities had also arrived, their fine silks and embroidered robes a stark contrast to the dusty garb of the scavengers and traders. They moved with an air of elegance, their faces pale and refined despite their surroundings. As Magda scanned the scene before her, she noticed a few familiar faces from within the Scrapyard walls mixed in with the strangers and nodded her greetings as they passed each other by. She eavesdropped on a group of Beasts conversing about an organization by the name of Liberty’s Claw and then moved further along the crowded walkway, stepping around a large Aeropex mount as it swung its head in agitation and annoyance towards the flies that swarmed its slanted eyes and wide toothy grin. Content with the state of her surroundings, Magda relaxed in the shade of the portable awnings until finally, the familiar grind of gears clanked to life and the massive doors creaked open as Breaker’s men on the upper walkway turned the cranks.
As Magda entered the marketplace, the sounds and smells that greeted her enveloped her and seemed to pull her further into the crowd. The air was thick with the tang of smoke and grease, and the smell of fresh bread wafted from a nearby bakery. The market in the scrapyard was a vibrant and bustling hub of activity, with vendor Beasts of all shapes and sizes calling out to potential customers from behind their colorful stalls. The air was thick with the smells of cooking meat, fresh bread, and exotic spices, mingling with the acrid scent of rust and oil that clung to the very air itself.
As Magda wandered through the crowded market, she had to push her way past racks of tattered scavenged clothing, each piece lovingly repaired and reworked by the vendors, but nothing as fine as the items she had stored within her pack, she thought to herself. The fabric was a riot of colors, with silk and cotton and wool all mingling together in a dazzling display of texture and hue. The clothes themselves were a mix of high-fashion and practical, with flowing gowns alongside durable work pants and jackets. Magda had vowed to take pride in her production, and would not dare bring anything she didn’t feel pride in.
To her left, a vendor was selling a selection of fresh fruits and vegetables, gathered from the few remaining gardens that still managed to thrive in the harsh desert environment. The produce was arranged in neat pyramids, with leaves of Sandswirl Greens and bunches of Cactarrots sticking out from beneath the colorful array. Magda's eyes scanned the stalls, taking in the variety of wares on offer. There were vendors selling everything from rare spices to intricately crafted weapons, and even a few offering strange and exotic services not advertised for within their storefronts.
A nearby vendor was offering a selection of rare and exotic spices, their aromas wafting up to tantalize Magda's senses. She recognized the smell of cinnamon from the old ruins, but alongside it were other scents she had never smelled before - cardamom, perhaps, or turmeric. The vendor's mate sat behind the stall, expertly grinding the spices into fine powders using a wooden mortar and pestle as she watched Magda pass by.
Magda finally reached the section of the marketplace where merchants sold fine clothing and accessories among other trinkets and treasures. A cacophony of voices and colors assaulted her senses as she made her way through the crowds, the sounds of bargaining and laughter filling the air. Magda paused in a quiet alcove between two beat up outdated steel vehicle frames repurposed into vendor stalls and reached into her pack. She pulled out a few pieces of clothing and took a moment to tuck the articles into various pockets and arrange them in a way so that her whole bag seemed to be stitched together from the different fabrics, all of the colors and patterns meshing together to create a lumbering velvety display of shapes and textures as she sauntered down the center pathway with her head held high, her gaze staying straight before her as she avoided eye contact with other Beasts.
The traders eyed her carefully, their stares lingering on the pack she carried with a mix of curiosity and desire, wishing she would stop at their stalls. Magda knew she had something valuable to offer, something that would fetch a high price in a world where fashion had always been coveted. Here Magda felt safe and knowledgeable about something in the world, when she was so unsure about everything else. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin just a bit higher, transforming into someone completely different than the shy, mistrustful woman she had been before stepping within the settlement walls.
She locked eyes with an elaborately bejeweled indigo bird Beast shuffling around a stall adorned with shimmering scarves and sparkling accessories. As Magda approached his stall, the Beast watched her with a mixture of curiosity and calculation. He was a master in the art of trade and Magda could sense that he was sizing her up, weighing her worth and what she might be willing to part with. The Trader Beast's stall was a treasure trove of exotic goods, with flowing scarves and twinkling trinkets that seemed to dance in the flickering light of the Scrapyard Market's lanterns.
The bird Beast's plumage was a deep, iridescent striped indigo, and his feathers glistened with a subtle sheen that seemed to shift and change color as he moved. His eyes, a bright, piercing blue, were fringed with thick lashes that seemed to flutter with excitement as he regarded Magda's pack. The Trader Beast's tail was long and slender, with delicate feathers that rustled softly as he moved. His great talons tapped across the hard packed ground in excitement as Magda wandered into the shade beneath his tent. She fingered a shiny trinket as she approached the Beast.
"Greetings, traveler. What fine wares do you bring to my humble stall?" the trader asked, his voice laced with curiosity as he eyed the intricately embroidered clothing she carried atop her pack. His words were like honey, dripping with warmth and invitation. "You can call me Aldar." He clicked his great beak once as he assessed the woman standing before him.
Magda smiled warmly, laying out her garments on a nearby patched together platform for the trader to inspect.
"Greetings Aldar. I am Siera." The lie came smoothly off of her tongue, as if she had spoken these exact words many times before. "I bring you creations of my own making, stitched with care and woven with the very threads of Astaria," she replied, her voice steady and confident despite the nervous fluttering she felt within her chest.
The trader's eyes widened in appreciation as he ran his feathered fingers over the delicate stitching, a look of admiration crossing his face. "These are truly remarkable, a blend of artistry and craftsmanship unlike anything I've seen before," he uttered, his tone sincere. The feathers running down his great head rippled as he huffed in satisfaction. He ran his talons over the shades of gold, blue, burgundy and emerald green that lay before him and calculated their worth.
Magda dipped her head.
"Thank you, sir. My mother taught me her skills well," she said softly as she gazed at the ground.
Her fingers gently brushed the edge of a dress, and then she went back to her negotiations. Magda carefully considered each item, weighing their worth against the needs of herself and her daughter and the offers of the great Beast before her.
"I will require provisions for my journey home, food and water to sustain us for the weeks ahead," Magda stated firmly, her gaze unwavering as she negotiated with the trader. "And, if at all possible, medicine for fever." The trader nodded in agreement, a glint of respect in his eyes as he acknowledged Magda's shrewd business banter.
The inventory swapped hands and Magda carefully filled her pack with her new provisions. Inwardly, she cursed to herself even as she celebrated, as she knew her next journey was going to be even greater. This had been the last batch of proper clothing she had prepared, and she would need to venture further into the ruins of the old human cities for new materials the next time around. She carefully counted out her earnings and set aside one container of water to pour into her flask for the return journey home.
She thanked the Beast for his time and turned to exit the stall. As she stepped back out into the sunlight, she fumbled with the cap of the container in her hands in her haste to indulge herself. She tipped her head back and savored the wetness of the water on her lips, but was startled out of her reverie a moment later by a huge clawed hand placed onto her shoulder. She turned and choked down her last gulp, eyes wide, to see a familiar face.
"Breaker!" Magda said warmly, relieved to see it was the leader of the Scrapyard himself. Breaker's rugged face with its short black and red fur creased into a warm smile as he gazed at Magda, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Breaker was a canine Beast with a wide upper torso made even wider by his time spent working in the Scrapyard and head that resembled that of a mastiff breed, with sharp docked ears and wide features. His canid-form legs were well defined from his time spent playing Toriva with his crew in their free time. He was obviously very pleased to see the wolf Beast standing before him. His pointed ears leaned forward as he placed an arm around Magda briefly in a loose hug, and then took a step back.
"Siera," he said, his voice low and rough like stone against gravel, "I've been looking for you. I saw you passing through from the walkway above and I wanted to catch you before you left."
He looked out towards the market, his gaze flicking over the bustling stalls. "I've got some news that might interest you."
Magda's curiosity was piqued, and she leaned in closer as Breaker fell into stride beside her and continued. "I've received a message from the Scrapyard Council, and they're looking for someone with your skills. They're willing to pay top coin for a new batch of custom uniforms, and continued business, but it would require you taking up permanent residence here at the Scrapyard to take over other aspects of running the community." Magda's eyes widened in surprise, and Breaker nodded. "Yes, I know it’s a big deal for you. The Council's been looking for ways to improve their reputation, and Vespera thinks your unique attention to detail could be just what they need."
Magda hesitated, mulling over the pros and cons of this offer. She had grown attached to her private life in the bunker, and yes, the thought of venturing further into the ruins each time she ran low on clothing was daunting. The prospect of making a large sum of coin and potentially improving her own reputation if she could remain anonymous was also very tempting. Breaker seemed to sense her hesitation, and he nodded understandingly, not wanting to push the reclusive woman.
"I know it wouldn’t be an easy decision, Sarra .” Breaker couldn’t help but to think how he liked the sound of her name when he said it. “But I think it could be worth it for you. You're one of the best seamstresses in the Scrapyard - hell, probably even Astaria. You deserve to be recognized for what you can do."
Magda took a deep breath, weighing her options. She knew that Breaker was right - she was one of the best seamstresses around, and she did deserve to be recognized. And if the council was willing to pay top price for her services, she couldn't afford to turn it down when she had a small child to think about. But, her secrets swirled around in the back of her mind. Her fear held her back, that the people she was hiding from would find her. Slipping into the settlement for a day and rushing back into her secret home had worked well with her up to now, and she did not want to risk being found out for making the wrong choice.
Magda's expression remained firm, her eyes flashing with a hint of unease as her soul felt torn into two opposite directions. Finally, she made her decision.
"I appreciate your offer, Breaker, but I'm not interested," she said, her voice firm but polite.
Breaker's face fell, and he couldn’t hide his expression of disappointment and yearning. "But why not? We can provide for you, protect you and Donut ... we're a community here, Sarra ." He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You don’t have to be alone out there. You could be safe here."
Magda's eyes darted away, her gaze avoiding Breaker's probing stare. She shifted uncomfortably, her voice tight with emotion. "I really just need to be left alone."
Breaker cursed to himself, knowing that he had pushed the wolf too far. He took a chance and tried one last time. His expression turned to pleading again, and he reached out to take her hand. "Please, Siera. Don't say no without giving it some thought. You deserve to be happy and safe."
But Magda pulled her hand free, her eyes flashing with a hint of fear. Breaker's face fell, and he looked at her with deep sadness.
"I understand," he said quietly, after a moment. "But know that you're always welcome here. If you change your mind, you'll always have a home within my crew. Just think about talking to Vee next time you stop by."
Magda's nod was stiff and formal, a mask she wore to hide the turmoil brewing inside her. She felt a pang of guilt for lying to and hurting her friend's feelings. But she knew she couldn't stay in the Scrapyard, not when it was too open to the world she had left behind. The memories of that life twice over, of the people she had loved and come to fear the most, of the life she had abandoned, were still too fresh and painful even after so many quiet days. The nights had been a different story altogether.
As she looked into Breaker's eyes, she could sense the tension in his voice, a hint of disappointment and longing that he couldn't quite conceal when he was here alone with her. It was a tone that he would never use in front of his own men. It was as if he knew that she was hiding something important from him, and so, he backed off. And if he did think that, he was right, Magda thought. She was hiding her true name, her true identity among so many other things. She was hiding the complete truth about herself and she could not tell that truth to anybody.
Breaker's initial secret infatuation with this strange woman had become a love that was genuine and deep, and Magda appreciated his devotion but she knew she could not reciprocate it in the way he had hoped for. She knew that he would do anything to protect her, to keep her safe. But she also knew that she couldn't give in to his feelings, not fully, not the way he wanted. Her heart was already taken, and had been for years, by the one who mattered most to her. As they parted ways, Magda felt a sense of relief wash over her. She was free to move on, camouflage within the crowd for now, but the weight of her secrets still lingered in the space around her, a heavy burden that she carried with as she wandered through the throng.
She had protected her secrets once again, but the weight of her deception hung heavy in her heart. She knew that she couldn't stay hidden alone in the desert alone forever, but for now, it was the only way she could keep herself and her daughter safe from the many dangers that lurked in the shadows. Magda had survived this long by being cautious, keeping her guard up at all times and trusting no one. She knew that Breaker would never understand her reasons for staying away, for keeping her distance from him and the others, for keeping her daughter hidden from the probing eyes within the wasteland. But she also knew that he would respect her decision, even if it would hurt him to do so.
As she walked away from the scrapyard gates, Magda felt another stab of guilt for hurting Breaker's feelings. She knew that he had developed feelings for her quite a while ago, and that he deserved better than to be rejected by someone he had come to care for so deeply. But she couldn't bring herself to lie to him even more, to pretend that there was a chance for them when she knew there wasn't. Her heart was set on her daughter, and on the life they had built together in the wasteland.
Magda quickened her pace, feeling a sense of relief wash over her as she put distance between herself and the settlement. She knew that she had made the right decision, even if it was a hard one. She had to protect herself and her daughter first and foremost, no matter what it cost. As she disappeared into the wasteland, Magda knew that she would have to face the consequences of her choices alone.
As Magda began her journey back to her bunker sanctuary that afternoon, the scorching sun beat down relentlessly, draining the moisture from the parched skin beneath her fur. She trudged forward, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon. She felt like a rag doll, limp and exhausted, but she knew that she could waste no time out in the open landscape. She carefully calculated the rationing of her flask of water, knowing that she couldn't afford to waste a single drop
Her tongue felt like the Glittering Desert itself, rough and cracked, as if it might split apart at any moment. Her water container, an old, curved Demon horn she had scavenged before leaving her previous life, was her only solace in the blistering heat. She clutched it tightly in her hand, her fingers closing around the old horn like a lifeline, but it was a struggle to resist the urge to take a big refreshing gulp, and she had to muster all of the willpower within herself to keep going. The precious liquid inside the flask was her only hope, her only chance to survive this unforgiving environment. She knew that every drop counted, and she couldn't afford to waste even a single sip.
But oh, the temptation was strong! The heat from above seemed to sear her very soul, making her throat ache with thirst. Her mouth felt like the inside of a furnace, hot and dry and utterly desperate for moisture. She could almost taste the cool water on her lips, feel its refreshing chill coursing down her throat. Magda gritted her canines and summoned every ounce of willpower she possessed to push forward. She forced herself to focus on the task at hand and nudged aside the maddening urge to take a drink. She knew that if she gave in to the thirst and drained the container, she would not have enough to last her the rest of her journey and she would eventually have to break into the precious reserves meant for her daughter.
Magda's pace gradually slowed. Her legs felt like lead weights and her breathing grew heavier. Her chest heaved with the effort of drawing in each ragged breath. A pit of dread started to deepen within her stomach. She was exhausted, more so than she usually felt, but she knew she couldn't stop yet. She had to keep moving if she was going to make it back to the safety of her bunker before nightfall. She stumbled slightly, her feet dragging on the dusty ground, as she struggled to keep her eyes fixed on the horizon.
Magda's gaze scanned the desolate landscape, her eyes searching for any sign of sustenance or shelter from the sun. And then, she spotted them – the tough, sunbaked leaves of Aurora's Bane sprouting from the dusty ground. The bitter taste of the plant was familiar to her, and she knew that it would provide some much-needed sustenance. She dropped to her knees, her hands grasping at the dry earth as she searched for the best leaves. Her fingers closed around a handful of them, and she pulled them free from the ground. The leaves were dry and brittle, but they would do for now. She tore them into small pieces, her fingers moving mechanically as she worked. Finally, she allowed herself a refreshing sip of water as she chewed the dry leaves and choked them down. She did not know much about her own race but she knew that her body at this moment craved protein, and the plants of the wastelands alone would not be enough to keep her nourished for long.
The brief respite gave her renewed energy, and Magda stood up. As she gazed up at the sky, she noticed the carrion birds circling overhead, their raucous cries a constant reminder of the harsh realities of the wasteland around her. Magda's attention was soon drawn back to her own condition. She had developed a cough over the past few weeks, and though she had tried to ignore it, it was now getting worse. The dry air was harsh on her lungs, and she could feel the familiar tickle of phlegm building up in her chest. She tried to suppress it, but it was no use. A coughing fit took over, and Magda collapsed onto the hot sand, clutching at her throat as she fought for breath. She felt a wave of despair wash over her. The coughing fit had caught her off guard, and she was powerless to stop it.
Her lungs burned with every ragged breath she took and her chest felt like it had been lit on fire. Her fingers closed around her windpipe as she continued to struggle for air. The dry climate was suffocating her, and she could feel the phlegm building up in her chest as it fought to break its way free. She tried to cough it up, but it was stuck deep inside of her body, refusing to budge. She struggled as she ripped the fabric shawl from around her head and raised it to her lips as finally, she spat out the phlegm.
Magda's gaze fell upon the fabric shawl that had been wrapped around her head, and she remembered the small bottle of medicine that was hidden within its folds. She sorted through the fabric and found what she was searching for. The bottle was small, but it held a precious cargo - a mixture of herbs and medicines that would help soothe her cough and ease her breathing. With shaking hands, Magda opened the bottle and pulled out a small cloth square. She brought it to her lips and inhaled the pungent aroma of the tincture. The scent was familiar, comforting, and she knew that it would help calm her coughing fit.
As she finally started to regain her breath, Magda's gaze fell upon a small patch of blood on the cloth. Her heart sank as she realized the true extent of her condition. She had been ignoring her own health for too long, and now it was finally catching up with her. Panic set in as she scrambled to her feet, but it was already too late.
As Magda's consciousness faded, she was aware of a sense of numbness spreading through her body. Her legs felt like lead, her arms heavy and unresponsive. Her vision began to blur, and she felt herself being pulled down into the darkness. The last thing she remembered was the sensation of the hot sand beneath her, and the weight of her own body as she collapsed into the sand. The sound of the carrion birds still echoed in her mind, their raucous cries growing fainter as she slipped into unconsciousness and the world went black.
She lay there on the sand, unaware of the dangers that lurked in the wasteland, or the fate that could possibly await her when she finally came to. The sun continued to beat down on her, baking her into the desolate landscape as if she were just another piece of carrion waiting to be picked clean by the scavenging birds circling overhead.
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