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Science Fiction Fantasy

*more of chapter 10. Not the prompt*

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Rune shifted, frowning as a stone dug into his backside. The four travelers huddled behind a large dune, wearing hooded cloaks, the deep cowls like caves hiding their faces. The wind was not worrying yet, but Rune could feel a heavy stone of dread and fear forming his stomach. All he could think of was that one day back on Earth, the day he nearly lost his little brother, and his own life. The pure terror that coursed through his veins now returned as the wind whistled eerily through the sand and trees. It was getting stronger now, the wind, and it was paired with a distant rumbling slowly growing louder. Flashes of red light lit up the sky, casting eerie black shadows of the surrounding trees. Keila was crying, clinging to Clint’s hand, leaning against him. Clint was leaning against his father. Rune was sitting slightly apart from everyone else, but at the moment, he was too pre-occupied to feel left out.

The wind howled, kicking sand into the air like tiny shards of glass. Any piece of skin exposed stung with every piece of flying particles. Rune could feel himself being pushed by the mighty wind, it limited his vision to inches in front of his face. He could only make out silhouettes around him, thick trees, not even budging in the ferocious wind, and his friends, struggling to stay together. The sarsh could feel the sand piling around him, threatening to bury him. Imagining being buried alive, Rune could feel himself hyperventilating, but the wind tore his breath away. Gasping for air, he crawled away from the pile of sand gathering around him, his heart was pounding, thundering in his ears and drowning out the keening wind. fear muddled his mind, he couldn’t think straight. Rune stood up and ran.

At the moment, afraid of being buried alive, the storm raging around him befuddling his mind; the sarsh stood up and ran, exposing himself to the seething wind and shredding sand. He shoved blindly through the storm, keening in terror as the wind battered him from all sides. He stumbled through the thickened air for what seemed like hours before a huge gust of wind, paired with a cracking flash of blood-red lightning, threw Rune to the ground, coughing and gasping to get air that wasn’t there; he rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in his arms. Rune’s head pounded, his lungs felt like they were full of sand, his eyes stung, his teeth crunched on grit in his mouth. If everything hadn’t been so dry, he would have been weeping. Lying there, on the ground, breath ragged and every part of his body burning with pain, the sarsh drifted out of his own mind, far above the storm and far away.

____

Clint huddled beside his father, clinging to Keila with his one arm. He could hear her screaming with terror, her arms were tight around Clint’s body, her nails scraping his skin, as she clung to him. The three humans were together in a circle, unaware that the sarsh was no longer near them. Nothing but panic filled their minds, freezing their bodies. The icy hand of horror gripped their hearts. Just as Rune had, their conscience drifted away from their bodies and the pure terror faded away into oblivion.

_____

The first thing Rune realized as he drifted back into consciousness was the heavy weight pinning him to the ground, and how hard it was to get air. Panic speared through his heart as he struggled to sit up, a cough rattling in his chest. The sarsh spit out sandy saliva, his breath coming in ragged gasps; he climbed to his knees and leaned over, coughing painfully again. Purple sand poured from the folds and pockets of his clothing like waterfalls. Rune shoved his cowl back, stumbling to his feet, using a nearby tree as support; he glanced around, searching for his friends. They were nowhere in sight.

____

The three humans were assisting each other as they struggled out from underneath the sand piled on top of them. They were all coughing violently, their throats burning as the grit tore its way down. Keila glanced around, unsatisfied as she realized something was wrong. “Where’s Rune?” She rasped, her voice thin and grainy. She jogged up over the dune that had provided cover in the storm. The sarsh wasn’t there. The girl turned around and around, making herself dizzy. Clint and Jethro split, looking for the sarsh. They couldn’t call, their voices were so dry.

Worry and fear contorted Keila’s face. Her body’s energy was depleted, she stumbled as she scrambled down the dune to join the men in searching. Clint coughed, doubling over and catching his breath before speaking in a raspy voice. “Either he moved or he’s buried really deep. Keila, dig in any small dunes you see. If he’s buried, every second could mean life or death.”

_____

The sarsh glanced around for the signature dune where his friends should be, but there were only smaller dunes in sight. Weariness weakened his body, but Rune found his last reserves of strength and stumbled away in search of some sign of his friends. As he moved, he produced his canteen and drank it all, the cool water washing away the searing pain of sand in his throat. Rehydrated, the sarsh found tears pricking in the corners of his eyes as he wandered farther, no signs of life save for his own footprints. Unable to speak, and the sand having covered any tracks, a sudden and terrible realization struck Rune. He had lost his friends, and he knew it was his fault.

I wandered away; I got lost. It’s my fault we got separated. The sarsh was frozen in his tracks, worried and terrible thoughts running through his head. This is my fault. If I, or they, die, it will be my fault. I can’t protect them if I’m not there. They need me... Rune shook his head violently, frowning and cursing. His mind was drifting back to his siblings, not his friends. He was psyching himself out, worrying like this. The sarsh took a deep breath, calmed himself, and allowed his soldier’s training to kick in. I’ve tracked many things in my life, why should this be any different? He thought as he morphed into a vayne, animal instincts kicking in. He trotted through the sand, head down and mind intent on finding his friends.

____

Having been searching for half an hour with no sign of their friend, the humans were nearly hysterical, Keila the most. Her eyes were glimmering with tears, her chin trembling. Damp sand coated her hands, her clothing crusty with it. She was searching in the sand, with no luck, and now she’d given up and sat in a lump in the sand, crying. Clint sat beside her, uncertain how to comfort his friend.

“Kel,” He said in a calm tone. “Rune is the most capable person I know, he’s going to be fine. Most likely, he just got lost and will find his way back in less than an hour.”

Keila nodded, visibly trying to believe Clint’s words. She wiped away her tears, blinking grit from her eyes. “Well, what do we do?” She hiccuped. Jethro turned to the young friends.

“We should make camp here, we can rest and figure out what to do after.”

Keila nodded again and slowly picked herself up off the ground, dusting herself off. “We’re going to have to change or wash our clothes, they’re full of sand.” She gripped Clint’s hand, silently praying Rune, her new friend, was okay.

______

The day was dwindling; the sky darkening by the minute, the last light swept away in the storm's lasting darkness. But nothing hindered the sarsh; he bounded over the dunes and past devils’ holes, his head bent, snout hovering just above the sand. His heart pounded, excitement and anxiety rushing buzzing in his limbs, giving him strength he hadn’t had before. The sarsh was unaware of the weariness of his body, nor of the grand amount of sand he was kicking up as he tracked the barely perceptible scent of humans in the distance. He was getting closer.

Five miles away, Rune could still smell them on the dusty wind, and he grew nearer by the second.

Two miles. He could see a glow of orange fire, so faint it was barely visible, but it was there. The sarsh’s animal mouth curved upward in a strange smile. Hope coursed through him.

Half a mile, Rune could see the fire roaring in the near distance now, surrounded by the silhouettes of his friends. He transformed back into himself, doubling over to catch his breath. Now he was aware of the acute ache pounding in every part of his body, sapping the bit of energy he had left, and relief left him even more tired now that his adrenaline dissipated. Stumbled heavily through the cumbersome sand, the sarsh trudged to his friends.

_____

The three humans sat around the fire, wearing a fresh pair of clothes, their sandy ones were drying on a string between two trees; they washed them in a nearby stream. Their food was sitting in their laps, uneaten. Tears dripped unchecked down Keila’s cheeks, mixed with sweat that dripped down her face from the fire and humid air. Clint’s eyes were dull, gazing into the fire with a crease between his brows; he looked just like his father, who was making the same expression. Jethro barely knew the new friend that his son had made, but he felt his son’s despair, and watched Clint with watchful, saddened eyes. Suddenly, Keila made a small noise as her head whipped up and she twisted, peering into the darkness past the trees.

“Did you hear that?” She whispered, fear and hope trembling on her voice. Clint was about to ask what was wrong, but then he heard a noise and he froze. It was a deep, rough voice calling from a distance; what it was saying was imperceptible, but Clint recognized it. Tears of joy sprung into his eyes, his heart racing as he stood, nearly spilling his food, and turned around. There, nearing the edge of the woods, was Rune. Keila started to her feet, squealing with happiness as she ran and wrapped her arms around him, crying in relief. Clint was too happy to be annoyed, and he greeted the sarsh joyfully.

“I thought we’d lost you to the storm,” Jethro called from where he was devouring his food. Rune shook his head.

“You nearly did. I’m just glad I found my way back.”

Keila smiled. “We saved you some food! You can go change out of your sandy clothes in your tent and I’ll wash them.”

“Thank you,” Rune smiled faintly, stumbling to his tent and disappearing inside. Clint and Keila sat back down by the fire, breathing a sigh of relief in unison. The young woman wiped her tears away, a smile lighting up her face as she shoveled food into her mouth. They waited for Rune to come back out, but after twenty minutes, Clint stood and went to the sarsh’ tent, peering into the open front flap. The sarsh was lying on his bedroll, shirt in his scrunched fist, fast asleep. Clint smiled. Rune hadn’t even finished undressing before he fell asleep. The boy zipped the tent, going back to the fire.

“He fell asleep,” He whispered. “We’d best let him stay that way.”

Keila smiled. “I think I’m going to do the same. Goodnight, Jethro.” She stood and wrapped her arms around Clint, her head leaning on his shoulder. The young man smiled and embraced her back. Jethro raised one grey and brown eyebrow at his son’s contented face and closed eyes. He harrumphed and turned back to his food. He’d have to talk to his son about this girl who seemed to have come from nowhere, suddenly a good friend of Clint’s. For now, he let them hug their stress out.

Keila let go of Clint, her eyes not meeting his. She tucked a stray strand of black hair behind her ear. “Good night, Clint.” She whispered and hurried off to her tent. Clint sat down, a wide smile on his face that quickly disappeared as he saw his father’s expression.

“That was quite the lengthy hug, don’t you agree?” Jethro asked, a hint of suspicion and humor in his voice. His son ducked his head, cheeks burning. He said nothing. Silence stretched between them.

“So when did that happen?” Jethro finally asked, his tone free of humor now. Clint licked his lips.

“When did what happen?” He inquired quickly, unwilling to meet his father’s eyes.

Jethro chuckled softly. “You can’t fool me, son. I see it in your eyes. You love her, don’t you?”

“... I wouldn’t say love, but yes. I really like her, Dad.” Clint ran a hand through his hair, a small smile on her face. “I’ve known her for almost a year now, I think. It feel like so long, but only yesterday when I met her.”

Jethro nodded, stroking the stubble on his face. “Tell me about it.”

Clint smiled wider now. “Ok.”

______

The day woke with weak orange light, strained by grey clouds that, anywhere else but there, might have signaled rain was coming. The overcast sky worried Rune; as they picked up camp, he kept glancing up, contours visible in his dark skin. Inside, he was dreading another storm; he was still aching from the past day’s peril. However, Augen had said there were rarely two storms in a row, so they should be safe to continue on their journey. The sarsh peered through the treetops to see the mountains. They loomed close now, a few more days of uninterrupted travel and the group would reach the base of the Crown of Mountains. Of course, with the trouble they had, Rune doubted they would have uninterrupted travel; and he was right.

______

During a break, as everyone ate their prepared meals, Rune’s pointed ears twitched, his golden earring shining in the dull red light above. “Oh, no.” He whispered. Clint glanced up.

“Nature calls?” He joked.

Rune gave him a stern glare. “No. Something much worse.”

Clint snorted in laughter despite the sarsh’s dead-serious tone. His laughter quickly halted as he heard a roar in the distance, closer than the last time they’d heard the keening, screeching roar that raised goosebumps on their arms. “Oh.” Clint whispered. “That’s bad. Do you think it’s coming here?”

Rune licked his lips. “I can hear it,” He murmured. “And it smells us, whatever it is. It’s coming.”

August 14, 2021 13:57

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3 comments

TJ Squared
04:56 Nov 12, 2021

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooffffffffffffffff kjhbhgfghjhgfghjkhghjhgvcbnbvghjnbvbhjjmnbv large creature then rip. but stilllllllll a greatttttttttt parttttttttttt

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Creed .
15:06 Nov 12, 2021

yup, wouldn't want be in their shoes right now.

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TJ Squared
15:18 Nov 12, 2021

Lol

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