Bel had collapsed considerably short of reaching Dalamas. He lay on his back, drying up like a prune, unable to move or speak. He did not need to physically speak, however, to respond to his saviour’s voice, lurking in the recesses of his consciousness. Y’know, he spoke internally, considering that you seem so determined to keep me alive, you do throw me to the jaws of death wearily often.

The voice crept into his mind again, as if echoing in reverse. You only have yourself to blame for being a weakling, Bel. Nevertheless, I will see that you complete your work.

Yes, Bel resigned, I’m sure you will.

“Over here!”

Bel heard a distant voice. Now, who could that be?

A possible resource, the voice decided.

“I definitely see someone!”

It’s a woman’s voice, Bel further discerned.

“Krey, get an aquamantic infusion!”

Krey… the name of one of the companions she was calling out to, no doubt.

Once Krey had run the potion bottle to Livia, she grabbed it like the baton in a relay race and slid down the dune. She launched herself with a burst of airomantic wind and landed on her knees right beside the body she’d spotted. He looks like one of those demonic adventurers we saw at the raiding camp back at Dunlark, she observed. Indeed, his skin was the same dull, ashy blue, and his hair was a blue yet darker— near-black. His horns pointed backward, and followed the curvature of his head somewhat, ending in points above the top.

She noted that he also had something slung across his back that looked like the strange toploader weapons those adventurers had on their hips, except this man’s was longer, and parts of it seemed a tad more elaborate, almost more metal than wood. It also didn’t have the opening in the top that earned most of these weapons their name… or, if it did, it was currently covered by the long section of metal that ran along it. There’s some kind of little handle at the shooter end of the barrel, too… and this is no ordinary steel. It was that fiery orange metal she’d seen before, the kind that seemed favoured by those here in Berodyl who liked to enchant their belongings with various magics.

She’d have time to admire his weapon later; for now, saving his life was the matter at hand. He was still breathing, albeit barely, and his lips were badly cracked. He’s been cooking for a while, she wagered. She popped the top off the bottle, and did her best to get all of its contents into his mouth, using a few drops to wet his lips first to rouse his instinctual need for hydration.

When Bel felt alive enough to open his eyes again, he saw four humans and one horse gathered around him. He was sure that he’d have been physically startled, if only he’d had the constitution for such a reaction right now. He tried to speak, but he still could not.

“Do not try to speak,” the woman in white said. “You surely need to regain your strength first.”

“We need to keep moving,” the man in Pivuseon yellow said. “We should leave him some more food and water and carry on our way. We can’t afford to get bogged down in this place, or we’ll end up just like him.”

“We can’t just leave him here!” the gold-haired girl said. “We should take him with us. We can put him up on Danu and nurse him back to health.”

“I agree,” said the woman with black streaks on her face. “We’re in the business of saving people; you of all people, Krey, should remember that.”

The man who Bel had deduced to be Krey paused for a silent moment. “Yes. You’re right, of course. Well, come on then, we’ve little time to waste. We do have to keep moving.”

Next thing Bel knew, he was being lifted by the humans onto the back of their strange-looking horse. Danu, he supposed. One of the humans - he wasn’t sure which one - pressed something into his hand, and then furled his fingers around it; it was small and spherical, and so cold that he almost certainly would’ve flinched if he’d been able to. “Crush it,” the voice of the woman in white said. He did so, and was overcome with a swathe of coolness. After that, he began drifting in and out of consciousness again.

When he finally regained full control of his mind and body, he found himself in bed, under the shade of a pavilion. “What the…” he thought he was merely thinking these words internally, but was mumbling aloud. “Am I dying? Is this a hallucination?”

“Well,” a man’s voice responded, “it’s not a hallucination. As for whether or not you’re dying… well, we’re working on it.”

The man who’d spoken stepped into view. It was him again, the one wearing Pivuseon yellows. He looked down, and saw two of the women knelt at the side of the bed, waving their hands over his body, spreading around a white aura.

The man in yellow spoke again. “In fairness, though, I was as amazed as you are that the traveller managed to manifest with any semblance of stability on a foundation of sand. Though, I suppose the atomosi have had quite a while to work on perfecting the recipe, eh?”

Pippy decided she’d spent long enough outside, and went back in to see how their patient was doing. “The coast is clear, and the temperature is dropping fast! The heat in the day I can deal with, but this nighttime chill can eat my—”

“Pippy,” Krey beckoned, “did you manage to fill the lodestone while you were cursing the cold? I only bought a single pouch of those, so you better not have wasted one!”

“Yes, yes,” Pippy blathered, “I’ve got ya warm rock right here.” She passed it to Krey, who tapped Livia on the shoulder to signal that he needed some more room. She got up and went with Pippy to the other side of the pavilion.

“Haven’t seen a proper channelling stone in a long time,” Livia reflected. “Not since the Arcane Authority swept through Aubade and confiscated them all. Surprised they exist out here in Berodyl.”

“Many worlds have plenty of ‘em,” Pippy explained, “but I reckon if more people knew how they came to be, more worlds would be refusing to use them.”

“Ah,” Livia hummed, “that explains the pouting.”

“I wasn’t pouting!” Pippy pouted. “Well… not without good reason anyway.”

“Let me guess, they were banned for some arbitrary reason in the magic capital, right?”

“Limited, not banned— and not arbitrarirarirar… arbitrarari…”

“Arbitrarily.”

“Thank you. One of the first names those stones got was hearts of the magi; they played a large part in a very violent, brutal conflict that claimed a lot of lives.”

“I don’t remember ever hearing about anything like that.”

“It wasn’t in Aubade; it was a loooong, long, long, long time ago in a distant world… but an important one! The very history of magic itself has been shaped by it!”

“Well…” Livia looked over her shoulder, back toward the half-conscious stranger. Krey had placed the lodestone - now brimming and effulgent with heat from the desert’s fire-and-light-attuned mana - on the man’s chest, and it seemed to sooth him. “Looks like it’s saving a life this time. In the state he’s in, I wonder if that stone will make the difference between whether or not he makes it through the night.”

“I never said I thought we shouldn’t use it,” Pippy objected, “and I don’t think they’re evil… I just think keeping history in mind is important.”

“I once again find myself surprised by and impressed with your maturity, Pippy,” Emilie mused, coming to sit with them.

“Oh I’m just full of unending surprises,” Pippy purred. “I wish you’d start giving me a little more credit though, Emilie!”

“I simply don’t wish to make you complacent,” Emilie smirked. “I have your full measure, do not worry.”

If only that were so. Krey let that thought pass from his mind just as quickly as it’d arrived. “While we’re on the subject,” he interjected as he sat with them, “perhaps you can teach me how to draw mana into motes, hmm? Having a few marbles of warmth in our pockets might be a nice resource to have.”

“Krey,” Livia half-crooned, “you can stop frying your brain with constant thoughts of inventory. We have enough stuff to get us through, don’t worry. You’re making me think you have one or two nightmarish memories of these dunes you’re not telling us— you’ve been obsessive since we arrived in Dalamas.”

Krey’s mouth twisted half into a smile and half into a frown. “Yeah, I know… sorry. Between the disparity of our lands of origin, and my role as a Knight Berodyl, I… sometimes feel a responsibility to hold everyone’s hand a bit.”

“So you’re calling us naive outlanders, Krey?” Emilie poked.

“Oh, please, My Lady,” Krey sighed, “not this game again.”

“Ooh! A game?” Pippy chirped. “What game? Teach me!”

Bel could hear them from across the pavilion. He was coasting on the cusp of consciousness, not quite asleep but far from wakefulness. The warmth on his core brought rest closer, but it hadn’t arrived quite yet. At least I’m in good company, it seems, he thought.

Mostly good company, the voice intruded.

Are you incapable of just leaving me in peace for a time? The muscles in Bel’s extremities tensed for a moment.

I will leave you to sleep, it said, but do not overthink these strangers; they’re but a stone on the road.

Bel didn’t let his mind conjure a conscious response, and let himself fade into the dream world, at long last.