A gritty tang filled Elias’s mouth, a constant companion in the vastness of the Crumbling Expanse. He chewed slowly on the sun-cured cliff-runner jerky, each fibrous strip a meager blessing. Meat from the skittering beasts of the high crags – tough, lean, almost entirely devoid of moisture. It sustained him, a quiet, stubborn defiance against the dust-sea’s hunger.
The arid air leached everything. His waterskin was a hollow echo. Elias had learned to hoard every drop of internal dampness, a primal instinct honed by endless days beneath the twin, searing suns of Aethel.
Morning dew, when it settled on the wind-scoured stones, was his only reliable drink. The rest of the day was a slow burn of thirst, a constant ache deep in his throat.
Talking was a luxury he couldn't afford. Each expelled breath, a tiny sacrifice of precious internal moisture. He moved with a glacial grace, minimizing every tremor, every shift of muscle. Even his legs seemed to glide rather than stride.
From a distance, the dust-devils sometimes made him appear to float, an apparition carried on unseen currents. He seemed to drift, a ghost upon the land itself.
Kael, ever vigilant, grumbled from behind him. A low rumble like shifting tectonic plates.
“Fool has found a way to inconvenience himself less. While others gasp and claw, he strolls through the dust as if bound for a feast.”
Kael’s voice always carried the weight of ancient stone, scarred by aeons. Elias knew his own geomantic sensibilities, though still nascent, were unnerving to the older man.
Power pulsed from Kael, a palpable force that bent the very air around him. It was a raw, untamed might, unlike Elias’s patient coaxing of the earth. Kael moved like a living mountain, a force of nature unto himself.
Elias looked to the pale, dust-hazed sky. A faint, almost imperceptible whisper of moisture tickled his senses, a thread of coolness against the pervasive heat. It was a sensation he wouldn’t have noticed before, not until his journey with Kael had sharpened his connection to Aethel’s subtle tremors.
His geomantic sensitivity, once a dull hum, now registered the world’s quiet breath. It was a promise, a fragile hope.
Glancing at Kael, Elias saw the old man’s gaze fixed ahead, unchanging. A bitter smile touched Elias’s lips. It was no coincidence. Kael, a creature carved from Aethel’s primeval past, missed nothing.
Kael was a force beyond comprehension, a being whose capabilities Elias could only guess at. He often wondered how deep that well of strength ran, how many layers Kael kept hidden.
Elias longed to truly fathom the limits of that ancient, terrible power.
A colossal rise of fractured earth and dust loomed before them, a newly birthed mountain of shifting particulate. Gusts of wind carved temporary gullies into its flanks.
‘Recently raised,’ Elias thought, a subtle hum beneath his feet affirming the land’s fresh movement. The dust-seas seemed unchanging, yet were in constant, agonizing flux. His geomantic senses confirmed its raw, unformed state.
Straining, they scaled the massive formation. Each step was a battle against the loose scree and dust. Reaching the crest, a gasp caught in Elias’s parched throat.
Below, a vast, improbable pool of clear water shimmered. A deep, verdant scar upon the ravaged land, surrounded by low, unfamiliar vegetation. A telluric spring, a momentary balm in Aethel’s endless torment.
Thirst, an old, relentless enemy, surged. It ripped through his hard-won composure, shattering his disciplined restraint. Elias scrambled down the slope, driven by a desperate, primal urge.
Kael, observing Elias’s reckless sprint, clicked his tongue, a dry, disapproving sound.
Elias reached the water’s edge, heedless of caution. He plunged his head into the cool depths, drinking deeply, blindly. The cold liquid shocked his senses, an overwhelming relief that brought tears to his eyes.
Deep within the pool, a soft, inviting glimmer caught his attention. A spherical light, pulsating faintly, drawing him in. Its gentle pulse was mesmerizing, a hypnotic lure. Elias froze, his head still submerged, his eyes fixed on the deepening glow.
He watched, transfixed, as the light drifted closer, closer to his face. A dazed, empty feeling settled over him.
“Wake up, fool!” Kael’s roar tore through the trance. His hand clamped onto Elias’s back, a vice-like grip, yanking him violently from the water.
Elias stumbled backward, spitting water and dust, powerless against Kael’s strength. A monstrous form erupted from the spring, a dark, scaled mass of muscle and bone. It dwarfed even the cliff-runners, its maw a gaping chasm lined with rows of crystalline teeth.
An antenna-like appendage sprouted from its forehead, ending in the very same luminous bulb that had ensnared Elias. The Chasm Lurker, a predator of the telluric springs, revealed itself in horrifying detail.
“A Chasm Lurker,” Kael stated, his voice devoid of emotion. “They lure fools with that light, then swallow them whole.”
Elias, reeling, watched the monstrous head sink back into the water, his mind still clouded by the near-death experience. He had been so close, so foolishly undone by thirst.
Kael drew his weapon, Gore-Shard, a blade of obsidian-like rock, impossibly sharp, shimmering with raw telluric energy. “Recklessness takes root when even a speck of power is felt, doesn’t it, boy? Do you understand?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Kael launched himself onto the surface of the spring, moving with impossible speed. Gore-Shard descended, cleaving the water with explosive force. A geyser of spray erupted as the blade found its mark.
The Chasm Lurker thrashed, attempting to dive deeper. Kael was already a blur beneath the surface, a dark torpedo. The monster turned, its enormous maw opening for a counter-attack, a final desperate lunge.
Gore-Shard, an extension of Kael’s formidable will, pierced clean through the creature. A shuddering silence fell. The vast body drifted, lifeless, to the surface.
Kael emerged, grasping the monster’s tail, dragging it effortlessly from the water. He tossed the immense carcass onto the parched earth at Elias’s feet. Elias recoiled, a shiver running down his spine. Even in death, the Lurker radiated a terrifying presence.
Such a creature in this small, fleeting spring. It was an unbelievable truth.
Kael plunged Gore-Shard into the creature’s hide. “These things are the guardians of these rare scars. They lure the unwary, swallow them whole. So don’t be a dolt, plunging your head into any pool you find.”
Guilt prickled at Elias. He nodded numbly. “Are you deaf? Skin it. Its hide is soft and flexible, perfect for protection against the dust-storms. Get to it.”
“For me?” Elias asked, bewildered.
“Who else, empty-headed boy? Is your skull turning to common shale?” Kael snarled. “Now, get on with it!”
Understanding dawned. Elias moved, flipping the colossal Chasm Lurker. Its dorsal hide was a mottled brown, rough with calcified plates, while its belly was sleek, obsidian black. But its toughness was formidable. His small travel dagger barely scratched the surface.
Elias channeled his geomantic essence, a quiet surge of telluric power into the blade. The rock-hard hide yielded then, his blade slicing through the resilient flesh. Sweat beaded on his brow, the laborious task far from over.
There were no needles, no thread for such a massive hide. After a moment’s thought, Elias broke off a sharp, thin bone from the Lurker’s skeletal structure. For thread, he carefully stripped long, pliable strands from the creature’s internal membranes.
His hands, usually precise in subtle geomantic manipulation, proved equally adept at this crude, practical craft. Half the day passed in painstaking effort, shaping the hide, stitching it into a rough, voluminous robe.
While Elias worked, Kael dismantled the Lurker’s carcass with brutal efficiency. Every part seemed to hold some value. Its flesh, surprisingly palatable, was almost devoid of any toxins.
Kael’s gaze settled on the creature’s telluric gland, a pulsing, palm-sized organ nestled deep within its cavity. He plucked it free, tossing it to Elias.
“Eat this,” Kael commanded. “Raw.”
Elias stared at the throbbing organ, a grimace on his face. “You want me to… eat it?”
“It’s a rare essence. Nothing better for hardening bone and sinew. If you do not, I will ensure it goes down your gullet myself.”
“I’ll eat,” Elias mumbled, the threat not an idle one. He knew Kael. He bit into the telluric gland, a thick, gelatinous mass. It melted on his tongue, a bitter, earthy taste, sliding down his throat.
It brought no feeling of satiation. He’d just swallowed an entire organ from a monster, yet his stomach felt unchanged.
‘Strange,’ Elias thought, a flicker of curiosity in his weary eyes. Then, an intense heat erupted in his gut. It spread like wildfire, searing, agonizing. He collapsed, writhing on the dust, a choked cry escaping his lips.
Kael ignored his torment, methodically slicing the Lurker’s meat. Flames erupted from his hands, a raw, primal magic, searing the meat to perfection. Chewing slowly, Kael glanced at the telluric spring.
“This, too, will vanish,” he murmured. “Aethel’s scars are not permanent.”
Telluric springs were transient illusions, appearing one day, swallowed by shifting landmasses the next. Their locations were random, unpredictable, beyond human foresight.
Though this Chasm Lurker was dead, another would surely rise. These creatures laid eggs in the very depths of the springs they guarded. When one ruler fell, another was destined to emerge, ensuring the cycle of predation continued.
But to grow to this size, it would take centuries. Elias, still screaming in pain, rolled in the dirt, a pitiful sight. Kael merely sneered.
---
Elias awoke to the pale light of dawn, a new sun warming his face. He pushed himself up, his muscles aching, but with an unfamiliar, vibrant energy coursing through him. His body felt different, heavier, yet more defined.
He had always been lean, almost gaunt. Now, his frame was corded with muscle, each contour taut and resilient. He felt like he had been remade, sculpted from the very rock and dust he communed with.
Beside him, Kael sat, tearing into a piece of roasted Chasm Lurker meat. “Seems the medicine settled well,” Kael grunted.
“The… telluric gland?” Elias asked, his voice rough.
“A rare and potent essence. Nothing better for strengthening the core, for knitting bone and sinew anew.”
“Thank you,” Elias said, a profound gratitude stirring within him. “For such a precious thing.”
“Hmph. What else was I to do with a weakling who collapses in a slight breeze? Eat this. We leave soon.” Kael tossed him a chunk of still-warm meat.
Elias stood, reaching for the robe he had crafted. He pulled it on. A wave of chilling relief washed over him. The Lurker’s hide was perfectly insulated, cool against his skin, a barrier against the searing air.
He hadn’t expected such efficacy. “It’s… remarkable,” Elias breathed.
“We remain here a few more days,” Kael announced. “Until the meat is gone.”
“All of it?” Elias looked at the colossal carcass. It was an enormous amount of food.
“Such nourishment is rare in the dust-seas. We consume every scrap.” Kael’s words held no room for argument. Elias ate.
Four days passed, a blur of eating and resting. The enormous Chasm Lurker was reduced to a pile of gleaming bones. Nothing was wasted.
On the fifth morning, the telluric spring was gone. Where clear water had shimmered, only dry, cracked earth remained. The land had shifted, swallowed the anomaly back into Aethel’s relentless embrace. Without a backward glance, they continued their journey.