Mara chewed the tough strip of Shard-Hound jerky. The taste of dried meat and ancient salt was familiar now, a constant companion in the Endless Shallows. The protein was sufficient, a dull thrum against the gnawing emptiness. But the ache in her throat, the sandpaper rasp of her tongue, remained. Water was a different hunger, sharper, more insistent.
She moved across the gleaming salt flats, her steps feather-light. Every movement was economic, a lesson learned from weeks of suffering. Her body had become a vessel of conservation, each breath shallow, each blink measured. Dust, fine as ground bone, puffed around her worn boots.
From a distance, she seemed to glide, a specter barely disturbing the crystalline surface. Only the faint, almost imperceptible tremor of her passage hinted at her presence. Kael, a dozen paces ahead, grumbled under his breath, a low rumble like grinding bedrock.
“The brine-girl adapts,” he muttered, not turning. “Moves like a ghost, sips at the air. No wasted effort.”
Mara felt a flicker of grim satisfaction. He didn't offer praise, only observation. Yet, for Kael, it was akin to a nod. Her senses, honed by the desolate expanse and the subtle pulse of her own power, stretched thin across the vast, shimmering horizon.
A faint, almost imperceptible humidity touched her tongue. Not the bone-dry air of the deep flats, but a whisper of something denser, wetter. It was a sensation she wouldn't have noticed a few weeks ago, before Kael’s brutal training had awakened her body to the deeper currents of the world.
She lifted her chin, inhaling slowly. The briny tang in the air shifted, a subtle alteration in its usual dryness. A water source. Near. Her power, usually focused on the minerals beneath her feet, felt a faint pull, a resonance with the elusive moisture.
Kael, a silhouette against the pale sky, continued his relentless pace. He hadn't changed direction, yet Mara knew. He always knew. His casual trajectory seemed to drift towards the source of that newfound moisture.
A bitter smile touched Mara's lips. That monster. The term felt inadequate for Kael, whose power warped the very fabric of space with casual ease. How much more did he hide? What depths of his strength had she yet to witness? He was a force of nature, untamed and unknowable.
Soon, a colossal ridge of fossilized coral and crystalline minerals loomed ahead, sculpted by the ceaseless wind into a twisting rampart. It was a new formation, a fresh scar on the ancient seabed, pushed up by unseen forces.
Mara, a geomancer by instinct, could read the shifting patterns of the land, the subtle fractures in the salt, the fresh glint of newly exposed rock. She learned more from the silence of the earth than from any words.
Struggling up the treacherous incline, her muscles burned. The reward, though, stole her breath. Below, nestled in a deep basin carved into the former seabed, lay a still, dark pool. It was a Brine Pool, a rare, transient pocket of liquid in this desiccated world. Sunlight reflected off its surface, a dark mirror against the pale flats.
Thirst, an ancient, primal beast, roared to life within her. All caution fled. A guttural sound, half-sob, half-gasp, escaped her. She broke into a run, boots skidding on loose shale, heedless of any danger. The water. Actual water.
She reached the edge of the pool, dropping to her knees. Her head plunged in, the cool liquid a shocking balm against her burning skin. She drank, gulping frantically, the water cold and faintly metallic. It was the purest joy she had known in weeks.
As she drank, a faint, almost alluring glow caught her eye. Deep beneath the surface, a spherical light pulsed softly, a dim, hypnotic lamp. Mara paused, water still streaming from her face. Her gaze fixated on the light, a strange lethargy seeping into her limbs.
The light began to drift closer, growing in intensity, its silent invitation inescapable. Mara’s eyes unfocused, a trance pulling her deeper into the watery illusion.
A hand, hard as iron, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. “Fool! Snap out of it!” Kael’s voice ripped through the quiet, a sharp crack against the growing silence.
He yanked her back, sending her sprawling onto the rocky edge. The spell shattered. A moment later, a massive shape erupted from the water where her head had been. It was enormous, its dark, leathery body wider than Kael himself. An oversized maw, lined with jagged, crystalline teeth, gaped open. Above its head, a fleshy lure pulsed with the very light that had mesmerized her.
“A Shallow-Gnasher,” Kael stated, his voice devoid of surprise. “It lures prey with that light, then swallows them whole. Reckless child.”
Mara stared, wide-eyed, at the retreating monstrosity. Its bulk descended back into the dark pool, leaving only ripples. Had Kael not intervened, she would have been nothing but a mouthful.
Kael drew his long, obsidian-dark blade. The weapon seemed to drink the light of the Shallows. “Fools like you get bold when a drop of comfort finds you. Understand, brute?”
He didn't wait for her answer. A blur, he launched himself across the surface of the pool, his boots barely kissing the water. He swung his blade in a terrifying arc.
A geyser of brine erupted, water blasting skyward as if a bomb had detonated. The Shallow-Gnasher, startled, thrashed violently, attempting to dive deeper. Kael allowed no escape. He plunged into the pool, a dark torpedo. His speed was unnatural, cutting through the water with impossible force.
The Gnasher, realizing flight was futile, turned its massive body, jaws splitting wide to engulf its attacker. It was a fatal mistake. Kael and his blade pierced through its armored hide with contemptuous ease. The colossal monster shuddered, a final, violent spasm. Its vast form went limp, slowly rising to float lifelessly on the surface of the Brine Pool.
Kael grabbed the creature by its tail, dragging its immense weight onto the rocky shore. He heaved the body, a dark mountain of flesh, to Mara’s feet. She stumbled back, the residual awe of the creature’s death still palpable. It was unbelievable that such a behemoth could lurk in a seemingly tranquil pool.
He drove the tip of his blade into the monster’s flesh. “This is a common resident of these fleeting pools. It lures in idiots like you with that light, then swallows them whole. So, never stick your head into any still water you find in the Shallows. You empty-headed creature!”
Guilt prickled at Mara’s skin. She felt shame, a familiar sting. “Are you deaf? I said, skin it. The Shallow-Gnasher is a formidable beast. Its hide is soft and flexible, perfect for protective gear. Cut it up. Make a cowl.”
“You need one?” Mara asked weakly, her voice barely a whisper.
“Not for me, dolt! For you! Is your brain turning to salt? Are your wits crystallizing?”
Mara finally grasped his intent. She moved, flipping the colossal corpse. Its back was covered in brownish, rough protrusions, while its belly was smooth, almost black. Her salvaged knife, though sharp, struggled against the incredibly tough hide. It barely scratched the surface.
With a sigh, Mara focused. A faint blue glow pulsed from her palm. Briny energy, summoned from the very ground, flowed into the knife. The blade vibrated, its edge hardening with crystallized salt. It bit deep, slicing through the resilient skin with a harsh tearing sound. Sweat beaded on her brow, trickling into her eyes, stinging.
Skinning the beast was a long, gruesome task. Her arms ached, her hands were slick with viscous fluids. But the work wasn’t done. She had to make the cowl. No needles, no thread. She scanned the carcass, her mind racing. A jagged sliver of bone, sharpened against a rock, became a crude needle. For thread, she carefully stripped thin, sinewy fibers from the Gnasher’s back shell. Fortunately, Mara possessed an innate dexterity, a quiet precision in her movements.
It was her first attempt at such a craft, yet after half a day of meticulous effort, a reasonably structured cowl lay on the ground. While Mara labored, Kael methodically dismantled the rest of the Shallow-Gnasher. Every part of the creature, he claimed, was useful. Its meat was said to be free of significant toxins, even palatable.
He pulled a palm-sized, glistening organ from the monster’s cavity—a dark, almost iridescent sac. He tossed it to Mara. “Here. For you.”
“Huh? Eat it raw?” Mara looked at the pulsing sac, bewildered.
“Yes! It’s the best thing for weaklings like you. Consume every bit. If you don’t, I’ll force it down myself.”
“I’ll… I’ll eat it.” Mara knew Kael’s threats were always promises. She furrowed her brow, fear battling disgust. Taking a deep breath, she bit into the Gnasher’s gallbladder. The taste was vile, intensely bitter, metallic. She forced herself to swallow, every muscle in her throat constricting.
Miraculously, it seemed to melt on her tongue, sliding down her throat. Yet, no satiation came. Even after consuming the entire organ, Mara’s stomach remained stubbornly empty. She muttered a soft curse.
Then, a sudden, searing heat erupted in her stomach. It spread like wildfire, scorching her insides. An unimaginable agony seized her, intense and consuming. She collapsed, writhing on the ground, screaming. The pain was absolute, twisting her muscles, seizing her breath.
Kael, utterly unconcerned, continued to expertly slice and cook the Gnasher’s meat. Flames, born from his bare hands, consumed the raw flesh, rendering it perfectly done in an instant. He chewed a piece, watching Mara writhe, his expression unreadable. He glanced at the Brine Pool, its surface now disturbed only by the floating corpse.
“This, too, will disappear soon,” he murmured, his voice flat. Brine Pools were fleeting, illusions. They appeared one day, then vanished, swallowed by shifting salt or dried by the sun. Humans couldn't predict their erratic migrations.
The Gnasher, the pool’s ruler, was dead. But others would come. Gnashers always laid eggs in the pools they inhabited. When one died, its offspring would automatically emerge to claim the void. The cycle never ended. But to grow to this size, a Gnasher would need a century of undisturbed feeding.
Mara was still screaming, convulsing on the ground, a pitiful heap. Kael only sneered, a silent challenge in his eyes.
---
Morning dawned, painting the Shallows in bruised purples and pale golds. Mara woke, a gasp escaping her lips. A surge of vitality, utterly alien, coursed through her. Every cell in her body hummed. Her lean frame felt… different. Not bulky, but taut, dense. Her previously slender limbs now possessed a sinewy strength, muscles defined like tightly coiled wires.
She was speechless, staring at her transformed body. Beside her, Kael sat, calmly eating the Gnasher’s meat. “What… what happened to me?” she rasped, her voice rough.
“Seems your body took the medicine well.”
“The Gnasher’s gallbladder… was a medicine?”
“A rare and valuable one. Nothing better for strengthening muscles and bone.”
“Thank you,” Mara murmured, the words feeling strange on her tongue. “For… for giving me such a precious thing.”
“Hmph! What else could I do, dragging a weakling like you around? Eat this. Get ready to move.” Kael tossed a piece of perfectly cooked meat to her. Its savory steam filled the dry air.
First, Mara pulled on the cowl she had crafted yesterday. The moment the leathery hide touched her skin, a surprising chill enveloped her. The Gnasher’s skin, she realized, was perfectly insulated, radiating a subtle coolness against the oppressive desert heat. She gasped, astonished by its unexpected efficacy.
“We’ll stay here a while,” Kael announced. “Eat the Gnasher meat.”
“All of it?”
“Meat with this much nutrition is hard to find. We will consume every last scrap.”
Mara, still marveling at her new strength and the strange properties of her cowl, found herself nodding. Kael’s word, however unbelievable, was law. She ate the Gnasher meat with him, each bite fueling her newfound vigor.
Four days later, the enormous Shallow-Gnasher was gone, leaving only scattered bones. They had consumed every usable part. Just as the last of the meat vanished, the Brine Pool began to recede, its waters sinking into the ground, swallowed by the thirsty earth. It disappeared as if it had never been there at all.
Without a trace of regret, Kael and Mara turned their backs on the empty basin, resuming their endless journey across the Shallows.