Myra gently landed in the scorching sand in her new dwarven boots with a red mist slowly fading around her. Her body remained adorned with the silk threads of spiders, a cloth tunic and pouch slung around her shoulder from The Summit, and exoskeleton plates made from scorpions and insects from Xag's defeated creatures.
Her crimson eyes rested on the hollow exoskeleton of a large ant-type insect. Its thorax was large enough for her to walk into and its head for her to crouch beneath for shade. She followed the direction its head was facing and began to walk.
It's been too long, Myra thought, basking in the radiance of the sun beneath the scorching sands.
The history she'd discovered of her people's past made her envious in certain ways of the clear, pale-skinned elves as she lifted her hands and turned them over, studying her skin.
Atlas failed us, Myra thought before shifting to bitter acknowledgement. But because of his failure, we are stronger than our counterparts.
In the far distance, she spotted another husk poking out from the sands. With barely any power she raised it back to the surface as she passed. Same with the next, and the next, until she crested a dune speckled with thoracic legs crowned with goblin and harpy skulls.
Below was a clear, sparkling oasis surrounded by sparse grass and tall palm trees with a cave entrance protruding from the sands.
Myra summoned her red mist and sent it into the entrance in the form of a scorpion before entering herself. Inside the air shifted, becoming cool and damp. An excited slithering echoed, drawing a smile to Myra's face.
Scampering up the steeply sloped entrance, a salamander large enough for dark elves like her to ride skittered to a halt. It let out another approving, happy sound, brushing its head against her and lifting her off the ground.
She chuckled, petting it down its length before giving it a grub larger than both of her hands, filling up most of her satchel.
"Myra!"
Xanveris, her son and a head taller than her, shouted as he nimbly stepped up the slope. He bore many battle scars from close fighting with goblins, more so than any other creature whether insect, scorpion, arachnid, or other forest creature they had discovered in their other settlement.
"Xanveris," Myra replied, and they hugged before she patted his arms. "How's Ebonvale?"
"Straight to it," Xanveris frowned before nodding. "It's doing well in comparison to times prior. The insects remain burrowed in the sands and have offspring. We've found a nest recently. Their larvae will provide nourishment for some time."
He gestured further into the cave. "We're about to break crust on one of their adults. Do you want to join us?"
"Please," Myra nodded, getting nudged from behind by the salamander. "And how have you been doing? Have you—"
"Yes," Xanveris cut in. "She's within weeks of delivering."
Myra paused. "Weeks? Have I been gone for that long…?"
Xanveris nodded, beginning to set the pace as they descended toward the settlement. "I was afraid you'd miss it."
"I would never forgive myself if I did."
"Have you visited Lightvale? Xelvanya is nearing her time too."
"So soon?" Myra gasped. She was about to comment about her time away again but stopped with a guilty pause.
"It doesn't stop her hunts. She might give birth and still hunt the same day."
"As she should."
As their eyes passed below the sloped entrance, red flames lit up the cavern. Their abode of worship was decorated with a dragonfly's vibrant exoskeleton, their homes with the bones and exoskeletons of their kills, and at the far end, piled and veiled in silk was where they gathered for governance. The bones of countless slaughtered enemies and friends, layered with silk, forest ingredients, and the invading grubs' innards, created a smooth, translucent flooring.
Myra took a deep breath, savoring the scent of food drifting through the cave's unique air. A sweetness and bitterness intertwined in a way that would make any other mortal race vomit.
"I've missed our home."