Crane pulled his waterskin upside down over his mouth but tasted no drops. He still kept his mouth open and tongue out even though he knew inside the waterskin was as dry as outside. Had he known this would happen, he would take a bigger waterskin. He was going to get a new one as soon as he could. And a lot of them.

Anem had told him the flight would take only a day before his departure. This was the second day already and it seemed like it was going to take a lot more. He couldn’t move during the day. Eîlar! If it weren’t for Arash keeping him under the shade of her wing, he would already be dead by now. Even under her wings, the heat wasn’t forgiving. Even the sea of mud had evaporated after minutes the sun had risen.

After trying to drink from his empty waterskin for the fifth time in the last few hours, he continued meditating. He breathed in and out deeply. As the air went out, some of the heat went as well. Upsides of being a flame bearer he thought. The heat was in his command.

His technique, however; was not as good as Anem wanted it to be. Eilâr! None of his spells was up to Anem’s standards. Or any of his actions. His master had pressured him into learning how to regulate his self-heat, but Crane always skipped his training for more flashy spells. He would tell Anem that he could burn something down with a fireball if he ever got cold. Obviously, he didn’t ever think of ending up in a desert.

Maybe I should have listened to him more, a thought haunted him. Anem being right was annoying even on the finest of days and he was right all of them. Both the fine and the worse ones. Just like now.

He was right with the necklace too. If it weren’t for it, they would have died in their encounter with the undead dragon. Or after. The spirit inside was dormant yet holding onto the coin gave life and strength. It was the sole reason why Arash was still alive. It couldn’t reproduce a whole wing but giving her the necklace helped her a lot.

“I can kill for a drop of water.” He sighed. Perhaps a water spirit would suit this adventure more. What a shame Anem didn’t have one.

“Why would you kill her?” Azavel gasped. “Can’t you just ask?”

“Ask who?” Crane opened his eyes, letting go of his breathing entirely. As the scorching heat became more and more apparent, he saw a green patch of land far away.

“Is that…” He got up and took a few steps away from the shade, rubbing his eyes in awe. “An oasis?”

“What is an oasis?” Azavel asked, curiously. “Is it her name?”

Crane, however, neither had the intention nor the sanity to keep the conversation going. The thirst was plaguing his mind and left no place for other thoughts.

So, he ran up to the oasis, the green patches of lush bushes becoming more and more apparent. As he sprinted, he saw trees of kinds that he had never seen providing shade under their wide and green branches. Even looking at it calmed him.

His bare feet sank in each hurried step, sizzling like meat on a pan as he left bloody footprints on the crimson sands. He didn’t feel the pain however, the thought of freshwater touching his parched lips and tongue was strong enough to hide the pain of peeling skin.

As he got close, standing on top of a dune he saw that he was right, there was water! A pond large enough to hold Arash even with her wings wide open had she still possessed two.

He jumped forth at an instant, and tumbled down, the sweat on his skin catching the sand like flies to a web. He desperately ran as he tried to keep his balance which he failed poorly.

Azavel’s fiery presence vanished from his senses as he stepped on cold grass and dirt, yet he could not notice.

Shaking and grinning in anticipation, he kneeled next to the pond and held his hand like a cup, dipping it and raising it back. The water, however, dripped between his fingers, emptying his hands even before a drop touched his lips.

So, he tried again and again, yet the water kept spilling no matter how hard he tried. Being so close to the water and not being able to savour it, Crane screeched. He then plunged his head into the water, hoping that it was his hands that failed not the water that refused to be drunk.

No matter how hard he tried to drink the water, he failed. Now, even more frustrated, the thirst got the best of him and he jumped into the water, completely submerging.

Still, water refused to be drunk. No drops would enter his mouth no matter how deep he dived, nor how wide he opened his mouth. It surrounded his head like a helmet, yet refused to touch his head. His face and his hair were still dry unlike the rest of his body.

After cursing and punching the water a few times, something grabbed him from his ankle and pulled him out of the water like unsheathing a sword. He kept cursing, and his captor shook him until he regained his senses and only then he realized, the one who held him was not a man or a beast, it was the pond itself.

An arm of water reaching out of the pond held him high, upside down as he saw a woman lying down next to a tree. Lying on her side, with her head resting on a palm and a cluster of red grapes in her other hand.

She took a bite and ordered the arm to carry Crane to herself with a motion of her hand. Arm stretched like a river and held Crane high above the woman, right in front of her and slowly descended him until he was on her eye’s level.

“What are you?” The woman asked. Red grapes had painted her lips a dark shade of red and the dripping juice looked like blood stains on the white silk dress.

“Just a passer-by.”

“Don’t lie to me.” The woman hummed like a fairy as he played with her golden hair that stretched down from her shoulders to the grass, branches tuned into horns right above her temples, ornamented with lively flowers. “If you were one, you would pass by. I know what you are.”

“And what would that be?”

“The vilest of the vile. Children of the sin. You are…” The woman squinted her sapphire blue eyes, trying to remember something. “Human.” She smiled, as the grip of the water tightened, with burning wrath in her eyes.

“What are you here to steal, human?” She knit her golden eyebrows.

“I am not here to steal.” He tried to say, calmly, ignoring the pain in his ankles. He took a deep breath and continued. “I was stranded in the desert. I fell from the sky. I was thirsty.”

“And that gives you the right to take what is mine?” She took another bite of the grapes.

“I didn’t think that there would be anyone to own the oasis.”

“Oh. Own? I don’t own it, human. It is me that is the oasis. Not that anyone owns anything. Things just exist.”

Crane looked at the woman for a while, trying to make sense of what she had said. Was she a lake spirit, in the middle of this endless desert? It would be impossible for one to survive in this land.

“Perhaps I should try drinking your blood so that you understand the blasphemy you tried to commit.” She tightened her grip. “Perhaps I should give you what you seek and drown you in your desire.” She let the grape go and put her hands on Crane’s mouth, suffocating him.

The fingers were soft and cold like flesh made of water and they filled his mouth, his stomach. He got all the water he could ask for, yet it was drowning him.

He tried to pull the hand away, gasping for air but his hands passed through the arm of the woman like it was water herself. He tried to push it away, he even tried to burn it but to his dismay, the water stood victorious. To conjure fire and use mana in general, one had to focus. Drowning was making that a tad bit hard.

The woman looked directly inside his eyes, now as close as a breath. His heart raced as the fear of death wrapped him in a cold blanket. His lungs were to collapse soon if he did nothing. He would die.

Yet, what he saw was no different from the face he was making. The woman too was afraid. Shaking as her eyes opened wide in a frown.

She released him soon, throwing his body aside like a doll. He rolled for a while until a tree stopped him.

“What are you!” She hissed again, yet this time her noble stature and beauty were nowhere to be found. Skin full of life turned into a pale rag. Flowers around her vine-like horns withered and fine teeth fell in rot. Her fingers became claws, and golden hair dropped to the ground strand by strand, yet the blue eyes stayed the same, shining with light and fear.

Somehow Crane felt like this was what she looked like all along. The woman she first saw was nothing but a mirage.

“Calm down.” Crane rested his arm on the tree, showing the palm of his other hand to show he was unarmed. He wanted to calm the woman and create an opening so he could run for his life. “I am not here to harm you. I can leave if you wish.”

“I see..” She laughed with a face devoid of humanity within. Her facial muscles flexed but her skin failed to match. Like a rag thrown over a rat, her smile moved under her skin.

It almost looked like her very existence shifted through her emotions.

“Leave?” She let out a whisper followed by a roar. “And come back with an army! Not again.” She hissed as she ran up to the pond, plunging her hand into the water and when she pulled it out, a sword was in her hand. Dry, and shining.

“Do I look like I have an army to bring?” Crane tried to reason, knowing well that his chances were low.

“You have him.” He looked outside the oasis, to a faraway dune. Staring at the emptiness. “He is worth more than an army.”

“If you are talking to my friends…”

“You brought him here! The…” A name fell from her lips, but Crane could not understand it. His soul and mind were unable to comprehend it.

The woman approached Crane, but she didn’t walk, she fell forwards in each step and her legs kept her barely up.

Crane didn’t back down; he simply conjured a fireball in his hand.

“If you get any closer, I’ll…” Crane tried to threaten the woman but the ground beneath his feet sank like a swamp and pinned him down. Branches of the tree that he was standing by stretched out and swirled around his stomach, pinning him.

“Eîlar!” He cursed. She was not just the pond but the whole oasis. He should have been more careful. Now, he could do very little to get out. He had no knives, no sword. The weapons he packed with him got all lost in the fall. The fire was not a choice either. He would practically have to hit his stomach with a fireball, but he refused as he loved his torso and legs attached.

So, he threw it at the woman, who briefly dispelled the fire with a parry of her sword. The dark metal sucked the fire and the woman approached Crane.

“Did you just try to burn a water spirit?”

Crane heard a man behind. He couldn’t turn back to see who it was; the branches were slithering up to his neck and crotch, completely tying him down.

Still, he was happy there was someone else to deal with this mad woman. At least that was what he hoped.

The woman, however, unlike Crane, didn’t like the appearance of the man.

She jumped forward in a flash, passing by Crane, rushing towards the man behind. Crane then heard the sounds of metal clashing but after a while, the sounds subsided as the branches released him.

The oasis started to turn into the desert, the water left the sands and he heard Azavel once again. He was frantically screaming and calling out for Crane.

“Where have you been?” Crane felt a warmth in his cheek, not that he needed any under the sun. “I even shouted!”

“I kind of lost myself, buddy.” Crane turned back, looking at the man that killed the water spirit. Killing a spirit was not exactly possible as far as he knew but he could no longer sense the water. “Not your fault buddy.”

“It wasn’t yours either.” The man in his long crimson cloak threw him a waterskin, full of water. The cloak covered his whole body, yet as he threw the waterskin Crane saw his hand. No nails, flesh burnt. “The moment you stepped into that Avran’s domain, that candlelight could never reach you.”

“Hey!” Azavel shouted and Crane immediately pulled his hand between the man and the spirit. It wouldn’t have stopped Azavel should he wanted to go, but Crane acted anyways. He didn’t want him to go near the man. The man that killed the water spirit could break Azavel like a twig.

Also, only Crane could give him nicknames. Only him.

“I don’t like him too.” Azavel sulked, hiding behind Crane.

“You fell, right? Must have been a hard fall.” The man picked the sword the spirit left, studying the dark steel.

“Thanks for the water.” Crane picked the waterskin and after sensing no ill, he stuck it to his belt.

Something was wrong. It was familiar yet wrong.

“You are welcome.” The man grinned under the shade of his hood. With his red cloak, he looked like an extension of the crimson desert. Must have worn it to stay hidden Crane thought.

“To help a fellow traveller is always a pleasant surprise.”

“How did you kill her?”

“I didn’t. She was already dead. Just like all the Avran.”

“What is an Avran?”

“Wraiths. Failures. Those who escaped.”

“Escaped what?”

“Your god. And the Death. They can’t escape forever though.”

“Why? Because of you?”

“I am hardly a god or death, not yet but I must admit I take part in their miserable cycle of life and death.”

Crane liked the man none the bit, but he couldn’t fight him, not knowing he killed that spirit in a flash. He couldn’t leave either. He had to bring Arash to safety.

Still, he felt something familiar. A hatred deep within him towards the man, a sense of imminent danger, his heart palpitating in fear. He had felt the same way in his vision, just like the man in his vision felt.

“You were there.” Crane conjured a fireball and turned it into a spear. “In my vision.”

“So were you.” The man answered as Crane felt chills under the scorching sun. It was too hot to feel cold, yet nevertheless; he shivered. “You saw our little quarrel.” Crane briefly saw a pair of green lights in the shadow that was the face of the man. “To us, it was more than a vision though. It was real.”

“I saw you die.” He was laying on the ground, Crane told himself. His chest was open. He was perishing in his vision, how could he be here, standing?

“Yes.” The man answered. “That wasn’t the first time.”

“But… How can you…”

“A miracle from Vaella himself I would say. Praise be upon his name.”

“But your chest… He took your heart!”

“Nothing to worry about. He wasn’t the only thief. I took something too.”

The man opened his robe, and beneath it, Crane saw a corpse. Man’s chest open, a foreign heart beating behind the dark bones. “Not from him, not yet. But still, it's better than nothing.”

Crane instinctively took three steps back, flaring the fire spear even more.

“You really want me to think you of all people found me by a coincidence? After that vision? In this vast hell? Why are you after me?”

“You are overestimating your importance, boy. I came to see the dark clouds…” He paused. “And the dragon. Do not invoke a fight whose end you won’t be able to see. I only wanted to see the dragon. I saw the storm on my way home. Wanted to check what’s going on.”

“He’s gone.”

“He?” The man laughed. “To lay eyes on the king of skies and live to see another day. Seems like the toil to come here wasn’t in vain after all. For a rare creature I came, and a rare one I met. ” The man pulled the hood of his cloak, revealing his face. It was still the same as the vision, scorched skin, dark bones, and empty eyes.

Crane wanted to take another step back, but he stood his ground.

“You knew Acredna?”

“Ah, yes.” The man in black robes scratched his chin. “Your friend must have told you his name.”

“My friend?”

“Yes. Your friend.” He pointed at his empty chest. His insides were all made of stone and vines, with a foreign heart in the place where his stone one was supposed to be. “And my thief.”

“He is not my friend. I don’t even know him.”

“But he knows you. And something binds you two. I’m not sure yet but something surely does.”

He started to get closer to Crane and Crane slowly moved back, still holding the fire high.

“Something dark.” He got closer. “Eyes of crimson.” Closer. “It howls and howls.” The man stood right before the edge of his sword touched Crane’s neck as he laughed. The spear of fire Crane held high lightened the molten face, but it got harder to maintain the spell. Flames flickered as the man spoke.

“… behemoth as dark as the night.” He cited the codex. “Jewelled with a pair of crimson eyes.” The words of power fell one by one from his mouth. It was not like talking, but like weaving a spell.

He then caressed Crane’s neck with the sword and drew blood, slightly cutting into his skin. Spear vanished in an instant as the dark steal siphoned his power.

“I can see.” He hissed. “I don’t know how but I can see. So did the Avran. Why do you think she was scared of a little boy? You two are touched by the same darkness. It shouldn’t have been. How amusing.”

The man touched the side of the dark steel and immediately, it sucked Crane’s magic. Suddenly it was a lot harder to sustain the fire spear with mana. Soon, he took a step back right as his spear distinguished.

“I don’t know him.” Crane repeated himself.

“Who told you his name then?”

“I…” Crane hesitated. “Just knew it.”

“Hmm…” His eyes checked Crane from head to toe, studying him. “If you say so.” He smiled with his molten face. “Tell me then, what is the colour of my eyes? Do you just know it too?”

“What darkness?” Crane still refused to entertain the man. The man wanted to play with him, to intimidate him? He could. Yet it wouldn’t stop Crane from learning.

“You must have seen it. Big dog. Chained. Scary. Hard to forget.” He took a few steps towards Crane.

Crane stood silent in agreement. Even remembering it made his legs go weak.

“So?” The man interlocked his fingers like a businessman, slightly leaning forward. “What brings you here?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Ah.” The man smiled as he handed the sword to Crane. Crane picked it hesitantly. “You have no idea how mistaken you are. Do you think someone else is going to come here and give you advice? Someone more to your liking?”

After a brief consideration, Crane gave in. He didn’t like this guy at all, but he had no choice. If he wanted to kill him, he could have done it long before Carne could even act, but still, the man chose not to. So, Crane gave a chance to the talking roast.

“I am going to Levise.” The man didn’t need to know everything.

“Many seek her… divine presence for various reasons. What would be yours?”

“Delivering a message.”

“I see.” The man scratched his chin as he studied Crane’s annoyed face. “All right, I won’t pry into from whom. But how are you planning on finding her? Her isles wander the world. It would be hard to run into.”

“I have a compass.” He reached for it but wasn’t there. “Damn it!” He shouted.

“You had, I guess?”

“Do you have to state the obvious!” He shouted as he searched the sand in a vain attempt.

“I guess I don’t, but I can give some advice.”

“What advice?”

“On where to find her.” The man tilted his head. “But if you want to learn it, you must do me a favour.”

“What it is?” Crane asked, hesitantly.

“You know it already.” The man opened his eyes, though non-existent eyes and lids made them look like they were open all the time. “What colour are they?”

“You don’t have eyes,” Crane replied. “Are you satisfied now?”

“Look again, son. Focus.”

Crane focused. He tried to look and see more than the one already does. There he saw light. Dark green. There was a faint light in his empty eye sockets, just like the dragon.

“There is nothing there.” He lied. He wasn’t going to tell him what he wanted.

“If you say so.” The man shook his head in disappointment. “There is no use in wandering the desert. Go south. Cross the dead sea and reach the Empire.”