Technique. Rotation. Speed. Balance. Daiden heard these words repeatedly when growing up. He heard them first when watching his coach train some of the older athletes on the pommel horse. As a male gymnast, the horse represented a wild, almost untameable beast. It required a combination of skills and immense muscular strength, yet not so much that it hindered movement and flexibility. The horse demanded balance, a form of transcendental control even. For several years, it translated as pressure during competitions for Daiden. He felt it start as a lump in his throat, a dull pain in his stomach, and some around his knees. It marked his first of many battles against anxiety, eased some with success, and magnified more with failure.

From the dream, Daiden woke with a start a little before sunrise. He removed a gourd of water from his spatial ring and cleared the sand from his eyes. After a few splashes on his face, Daiden extracted a toothbrush with a dexterously carved, short handle, and bristles of magic-stiffened horsehair. A pouch hung at its end, with paste made from mild herbs localized for dental hygiene.

“A routine…what’s more important than a routine?” wondered Daiden, lazily. Once freshened, he equipped his armour and stirred Kir awake. “Freshen up. We have an hour until sunrise, and it’ll be good to cover some ground before then.”

Kir rose to his feet at a slow pace and shook to urge his mind into activity. Daiden watched the act with a laugh and stared into the open desert.

“Strange that we haven’t met many people on our way to Multana City,” said Daiden. “Not a good time for tourist activity?”

“You asked me to route you through infestations,” reminded Kir. “Most travellers prefer to avoid the Sand Spiders, unlike us.”

“What about other adventurers?” asked Daiden, curiously.

“The GCQI must have marked you as an active participant in Multana Desert,” explained Kir. “There’s significant risk involved with several people attempting a quest linked to a Natural Monarch. You’re never aware of the total count with multiple participants.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” said Daiden, absent-mindedly. His mind wandered to his experience with the pommel horse once more. He gazed into the distance, in a trance, and pulled back to dismiss the thought. “Ah, never mind. I’ve had weirder dreams than that…I guess.”

***

Armoured expensively, a team of adventurers dug into hiding with a trap laid across several spots in a two-meter radius. They gulped down their impatience when the first triggered with success, and moved at the snap of a second. They disabled the other traps and netted the Sand Spiders without much damage. Once strapped and secured, they carried them back towards their camp near Multana City.

“We’re allowed to keep the remains, Skunk?”

A lightly attired individual, their leader, nodded affirmatively. “Yes.”

“It’s an unofficial assignment, albeit well-paying,” remarked another. “Did you run any checks on this person’s credibility, financial status perhaps?”

“Didn’t need to,” said Skunk, dismissively. “We received fifty percent of the payment upfront, two thousand bloodstones. The rest is for when we kill the Sand Spiders on command.”

“F-four thousand bloodstones for merely two Sand Spiders?”

“And the remains as well,” reminded Skunk. “Better make sure we keep them alive until we receive word for their execution. Let’s not muck this up, idiots.”

***

Daiden noticed his spine rattle in a shiver, almost instinctively. With the horizon merely hued in orange, the two men travelled without worry. But the winds blew with an unnerving calm. It ruffled the dunes into a disturbance, and then faster – into a sandstorm. Daiden and Kir covered their eyes and proceeded with caution now. They shot glances at each other, sharing in their puzzlement of the situation.

“It is a desert,” said Daiden, light-heartedly. “I’m surprised we didn’t experience a sandstorm sooner.”

“This is different…” said Kir, strangely. “It just feels different.”

At a distance, Daiden spotted something, an answer. His eyes trained onto a silhouette, shaped as an arachnid much larger than the Sand Spiders. Atop the creature, sat another more humanoid hostile, armed and with broad shoulders. Daiden studied the duo more closely, tracing to another shape, a crown. In another moment, the shadow cocked its head towards the two men, in a crackle, and slowly pointed its sword at Daiden, manoeuvring the sand to force a disappearance.

“Hey, Kir…” started Daiden. “Are you sure you counted the requirement correctly?”

“Forty Sand Spiders!” confirmed Kir. “Yes, well, when it comes to life and death, you better bet I counted correctly.”

“Then what was that just now, in front of us?” asked Daiden. “It looked pretty monarch-y to me.”

“I have to agree,” said Kir, with a gulp. “Not much I can add to that.”

“What was that?” said Daiden, suddenly. His ears perked at the sound of a whistle. Without thought, he grabbed at Kir’s collar and tossed him with considerable strength. He turned with a quick step, in time to notice a limb dart through the storm and at him in a fierce attack. His boots dug into the ground, pushing him a little even, while his wrists trembled from the weight. Daiden angled his sword to a tilt and redirected the force of the attack, before moving towards his friend.

“Listen, Kir,” said Daiden, hurriedly. “Forget the discussion from last night. There aren’t any Sand Spiders, as far as I can tell. Thank god for that! But this a lot more than I can handle with you around.”

“What do you need me to do?” asked Kir, in a panic.

“Run! Run like there’s no tomorrow and don’t look back!” yelled Daiden. “It knows…it knows that I slaughtered its kin, that I’m responsible.

“But there’s good news in this. The Monarch is unlikely to chase after you with me here. I need you to escape to Multana City.”

“N-no!” blurted Kir, clenching his chest with regret. “You…you run as well.”

Daiden smiled at the suggestion and stepped away. “Ah, I wish I could. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you from the get-go. This is something I must do, but there’s no reason for you to do this here with me. Don’t underestimate me, Kir…I won’t die from this, I won’t die, not again.”

Kir simply nodded, unable to muster the strength for a response. He clenched his teeth and ran away, stopping after a sprint to find Daiden wade deeper into the sandstorm.