Hope's muscles throbbed with exhaustion as he finally slumped against a half-buried stone pillar. His chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, his breath still labored from the intense training. He rolled his aching shoulders, feeling the stiffness settling into his joints. Every inch of him was drenched in sweat, the dry heat of The Ashlands doing nothing to cool him down.
Across from him, Nefer was still swinging her sword with practiced ease, the blade slicing through the air with a near-effortless grace. The golden rays of the relentless sun cast a harsh glow over the barren landscape, causing her silhouette to shimmer in the heat. She didn't falter, her stance unwavering, every movement precise and controlled.
Hope reached for the Endless Spring, lifting it to his lips and taking a slow, deep drink. The cool liquid washed down his parched throat, easing the dryness that had settled there. He exhaled in relief, savoring the brief reprieve the mystical water granted him.
"What's our next plan?" he finally asked, his voice hoarse from exhaustion.
Nefer didn't pause her movements.
"We'll stay here for the day. By night, we continue our march."
Hope frowned. "And how are you sure there's a human settlement or citadel to the east?"
Nefer's sword came to a halt. She turned slightly, her piercing gaze meeting his.
"If you trust me, then I'll lead you."
Her words were simple, but they carried a weight that made Hope hesitate.
Trust? That wasn't something he gave freely. Not in The Ashlands.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes flicked toward Massa, who had her eyes closed in what seemed to be meditation—or something else entirely. She sat in a composed manner, her expression serene. The faint glow of the Endless Spring's essence still lingered on her fingertips from when she had passed the flask to him.
For a moment, Hope allowed himself to take in her features.
Her skin, smooth and unblemished, had a deep, rich hue that seemed to absorb the golden light of the sun rather than reflect it. Strands ofngreen hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her delicate but sharp features—the high cheekbones, the slightly upturned nose, the full lips that carried a quiet intensity even in stillness.
Her brows furrowed slightly, as though sensing his gaze.
"What?" Her voice, sharp and questioning, snapped him out of his thoughts.
Hope stiffened.
"Oh—uh." He scratched his head awkwardly. "Nothing, I was just looking at your hair."
Massa narrowed her eyes slightly, lips pressing into a thin line.
"Uhn," she responded, unimpressed.
Even Nefer, who had appeared wholly engrossed in her practice, let out a low chuckle.
Hope sighed internally. He might have outdone himself this time.
A soft rumbling sound suddenly betrayed him.
His stomach.
Damn.
He clenched his jaw, hoping neither of them had noticed.
But Massa's eyes flicked open, her lips curving slightly in amusement.
Without a word, she extended a hand, summoning a small, round pill from her soul sea.
"Eat it," she said simply. "It will keep the hunger in check for at least two hours."
Hope eyed the pill warily. He didn't particularly like the idea of relying on something that suppressed his hunger rather than satisfying it.
But his stomach protested again.
He sighed, taking the pill from her outstretched palm and swallowing it dry. Immediately, a cool sensation spread from his throat to his stomach, dulling the gnawing emptiness.
"Well," he muttered. "That worked fast."
Silence settled over them once more.
Hope leaned back against the pillar, his gaze drifting to Nefer. She was still training, still swinging her sword through the blistering heat.
The sun burned fiercely above her, its golden light making her dark skin glow like polished bronze. Beads of sweat ran down her toned arms, catching the light as they trailed over defined muscles. Her white hair, tied up to keep it from falling into her face, shimmered in the sunlight.
She looked like something out of an ancient tale—an angel of war, or perhaps a creature born of fire and steel.
Hope watched as she moved, her sword cutting through the air with effortless precision. Each motion was fluid, not a single one wasted. She was relentless, her determination evident in the tight line of her lips, the unwavering focus in her eyes.
And she wasn't even breathing hard.
Hope exhaled slowly.
She was terrifying.
And beautiful.
But mostly terrifying.