It was a little strange, Maiz reflected, that the desert had changed so much yet remained exactly the same. If he focused and squinted a bit, he could see where the sands had morphed with the shaking earth the night before, but the farther he trudged through the endless sands, the more the landscape looked like the Waste always did: silent, serene, endless.

The huge assortment of stone pillars dominating his field of vision spoiled that impresion somewhat. He was closing quickly with the structures, backed in the distance by a black stone wall, though he’d already mistaken the distance twice during his uninterrupted trek through the previous night and this day. The trick was to look at the dunes at the base of the pillars, not the pillars themselves. Useful only when he could actually see said dunes across the Waste, which wasn’t very often.

Still, there was another landmark that came into sight midway through the day, making it much easier to place himself in relation to the… collection of giant pillars. Got to think of a better name for that.

He sighed, digging his staff once more into the sand, taking another plodding step forward. The sun was past its zenith, so he was forced to shade his eyes occasionally when the pillars didn’t do it for him. He was just out of one of the gargantuan shadows, so he lifted a hand to his brow as he looked to the southwest.

Smoke rose into the air, individual plumes melding into a haze that shimmered in the desert sun. He hadn’t realized how close the army was to the Temple. Then again, he had no idea if the pillars were near the Temple at all--for all he knew, there could be miles between what he could see and his friends. He sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case. For all that Enlightenment kept hunger, thirst, and exhaustion at bay, there was nothing enjoyable about this trek.

Each step melded into the next. He had almost nothing to think about, except making sure that he kept out of sight of the camp as best he could. Except…

Maiz glanced up, and immediately hunched down, engaging The Cowl. He burrowed up against a divot in the sand, sighing as even more of the damn stuff invaded his clothes. He never took his eyes from the sight above him.

A golden-scaled monster glided through the desert sky, its belly in shadow, but faint hints of glimmering gold showing as it tilted away from Maiz’s position. It vanished from view, but Maiz knew that it would be picking up speed as it approached the plume of smoke to the southwest, gathering pure light between its jaws. Faintly, he heard the sound of a great roar intrude on the desert silence, and he began clambering up once more.

The dragon was already completing a huge arc in the air, and a thousand ribbons of flame were chasing after it. They licked at the creature even as it winged away, so close that they almost seemed to be emerging from the dragon’s back. They constricted inwards a moment later, forming an incandescent cocoon around the golden monster, but in a flash of light so bright that Maiz had to look away, the dragon banished the flames. And then it was gone.

Hm. Being a dragon seems… fun. And useful. There had been a Shapeshifter title in the library, hadn’t there? That probably wouldn’t work for monsters, but with his abilities… could he figure something out? The thought amused him as he continued his trek, though he knew it was ridiculous. No title interacted directly with monster abilities--human titles and monster abilities were powers of two different gods, and the closest one could get to merging the two was being a priest of Massahn. Not a healthy choice of profession, nor one Maiz was remotely qualified to attempt.

But his imagination was captured momentarily by the idea of soaring through the skies, casting spells like a second sun. A nice dream. Perhaps he should figure out flight, like Hakim had been capable of?

He kept walking, his mind drifting like he was midway through a dream. He passed over a hundred familiar stories, and a few that he’d learned more recently from reading with Hugan. There was one about an eastern general that he’d found quite interesting. The tactics described had been absolutely brilliant, but he had a feeling he already knew why the volume was entitled ‘Thenaria’s Folly.’ Even Maiz could see that letting half of your army fester under other generals’ commands for years was a terrible idea. It would serve her right if her entire empire collapsed beneath her, despite all of her tactical acumen. It took more than war to run a nation properly, and misplacing her trust was as much a blunder as any battlefield mishap.

Speaking of tactics, what about these damned pillars? As he walked, the question bit at him. Why have the pillars set up before the wall like that? Some kind of warning? No reason to warn invaders.

No, but the pillars did create a different sort of terrain before the wall. They would break up a massed army, provide shadows and shelters for smaller forces. Perfect for the maneuverable Warrior Monks, but not nearly as good for a slow invading force. Clever.

Finally, he was only steps away from the first of the pillar. He spent a solid minute just staring up at the structure, and nearly stumbled as inexplicable vertigo overcame him. He’d felt his insignificance before, watching Masters clash in displays of pure power that he couldn’t hope to match in his wildest dreams. He’d walked in a place suffused with magic enough to make each of those experts seem weak in comparison. There was only one sight that had compared to the sheer vastness right before him.

When Maiz stared into the eyes of a god, he’d seen more than eternity--he’d seen pure chaos. Endless, changing, yet constant power, so great that his mind couldn’t properly grab hold of it. This was almost the opposite of that--purely physical, uncaring of the world around it, unmovable. For all that it was just a giant rock, Maiz couldn’t help but swallow at the sight of it before him, shiver, and shrink down slightly in unconscious fear.

Then he stepped forward.

He felt like an ant approaching a forest, so small that he couldn’t understand the scale of his surroundings. From so close, he could see that each of the pillars was spaced hundreds of meters apart, though they’d looked clustered together in the distance. Each one would require two dozen men linking arms to encircle it completely, and they were all made of perfectly smooth black stone, completely unmarred and untouched by the sand. That smoothness told him that he’d been right--these were tactical structures rather than the vehicles for an enchantment, but he confirmed it with his Mana Sense. Nothing.

He passed the first pillar, looking beyond it towards the wall. There weren’t that many obelisks in sight, perhaps a dozen, but considering their size and spacing, that meant it would still be quite a walk to reach the wall. He passed the first pillar, eyes still wandering across the marvel before him.

Then he fell.

It was immediate, brutal. Raging thirst dried his throat in an instant, his stomach twisted in sudden hunger, and blackness closed as bone-deep fatigue overcame him. He convulsed on the sands, his surprise and fear the only things keeping him conscious. What the hells?

Almost instinctively, Maiz felt at his mana. It was still there, as was the less obvious, physical power of his stamina humming through his body. But it felt like his Enlightenment had just deactivated. Had he somehow eaten or drunk something without noticing?

Whatever had happened, it was a disaster. He would be in much worse shape once he reinstated the skill, though hopefully without the active progression of his thirst, hunger, and exhaustion, he would still be able to make it to the wall. The longer he spent without it active, the worse off he would be, so immediately he marshalled his stamina and used Enlightenment.

Nothing changed.

It didn’t even feel like he was straining himself. It was as if, despite his being able to feel his stamina, even manipulate it, his power had suddenly become imaginary. No. He tried to swallow, but he couldn’t. His stomach let out a noise like a dying cat, but he could hardly hear it over the rushing in his ears and the pounding pain in his head. Desperately, he reached at and threw his mana out in a cloud around him, trying to--

--his mana hadn’t left his body. So it’s… an enchantment? The blackness threatened to close once again, but he pushed it back. Mana Sense. Nothing.

Godsdammit. The very fact that his Enlightenment had dropped was terrible, but if he couldn’t get it back up? Now that he’d gotten over the initial shock, his Constitution let him keep the exhaustion mostly at bay. The hunger was barely a problem. But he’d been walking under the desert sun all night and all day, unconcerned about the heat. His thirst was deadly.

It took more effort than it should have, but soon he was on his hands and knees. He raised his head to look through the forest of pillars, the distance stretching before him, seeming to get longer as he watched. Got to push forward.

It wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t engage Enlightenment for the amount of time it would take to get to the wall. He had to hope that someone was watching, and that they could help him. Otherwise…

Maiz crawled forward. One step. Two. Three, and his arms gave out. He slammed into the sands, motionless. Weakness seemed to pulse through his body, and his own weight held him almost immobile. It wasn’t just the lack of his Enlightenment. With every step, the effect was worsening. How much of the strain on his body was due to his fatigue and thirst, and how much was this strange enchantment?

Move. He strained as he’d remembered doing once before, in a long tunnel before he’d even had his title. Strange. He wondered if he was in a better position now or then. Focus.

More than a burst, it was a slow struggle to push himself back. Each nudge backward made the next slightly easier, a change so small he wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t straining with his entire body. But eventually he was able to roll himself awkwardly backwards, closing his eyes and his mouth against the sand as he did so. He kept going blindly until the pressure lifted completely, and he was level with the first pillar once again.

Mana Sense. He cast the spell even as he struggled wearily to his feet, engaging Enlightenment a moment later. He could see… nothing. A pale white glow suffused the area populated by the pillars, with no variation to indicate the enchantment laced through the air.

He shivered. That was almost more impressive than the spell itself, that even after activating, it was completely undetectable to him, but he still cursed his brashness. Too sure of his own assumptions, when the person who’d made this place was the avatar of the original trickster. So am I. Better start acting like it.

Weakly, Maiz rubbed his throat. He was on his feet for now, but even with Enlightenment active again, he needed water badly. He had no hope of reaching the Temple until he got it. Which meant more walking.

He almost sighed, but decided against drying his throat even further. Leaning on the staff he’d barely managed to keep, he started walking away from the great forest of stone behind him, an ant limping from the forest, defeated.

Perhaps his next goal would be more attainable. He prayed that would be the case, as he stared at the haze of smoke rising in the distance.