Golden rays filtered through the square openings along the sides of the truck.
Faelan and Ria lay cramped inside, side by side, their heads roughly level with each other's waists.
A water bottle sloshed with a pungent amber liquid each time the truck hit a bump.
"Throw it out," Ria said, annoyance evident in her voice.
"No," Faelan replied flatly.
They hadn't left the cramped space for two days now. It wasn't the first time she had brought up the argument.
"It stinks in here. Why won't you just throw it out?" she asked, sounding almost short of breath.
"We might still need it," Faelan replied.
Her breathing had changed since the night before.
"We haven't had a drop of water since yesterday. I'm pretty sure we won't need it anymore."
Faelan understood her argument.
In truth, he agreed with it.
The reason he hadn't gotten rid of the bottle was because she had only used it once.
Given how long they had remained in the truck, he found that deeply alarming.
"Just try to take your mind off the smell. You could read the book you smuggled," Faelan suggested, trying to calm her.
"I didn't smuggle it. I just took it. I doubt they'd even know it's gone," she replied. "Besides, I'm not in the mood to read."
"Fine. Then do something else."
"What?"
"I don't know. Go to sleep. I'm pretty sure you haven't closed your eyes in days."
"I don't want to hear that from you of all people. You make it sound like torture."
Faelan's expression darkened.
He couldn't deny it.
The truck lurched over another bump, and the bottle sloshed between them.
Silence settled for a moment.
Faelan noticed the trees outside becoming sparse. The soil had taken on a reddish-yellow hue, and the air felt noticeably warmer.
"We might be heading toward the savannah," Faelan remarked, twisting his body to peer through the openings in the truck.
"I thought we wanted to go to Grarg's Keep," Ria said.
"We do, but we don't know exactly where this truck is headed."
"It's heading to Grarg's Keep."
"How do you know that?"
"I heard it from the driver when we were in Caderrig," she replied flatly, her breathing still uneven.
Heard?
Faelan frowned.
He hadn't heard anything back then.
He had assumed she picked the truck at random.
He snapped out of his thoughts as he noticed the familiar walls of Grarg's keep closing in around them.
"Let's get off."
"Finally," Ria replied, getting to her feet.
Her head immediately hit the ceiling.
"Ow—"
"Keep it down," Faelan urged as he made his way toward the door, trying to work the lock open.
Ria leaned forward and struck the door hard enough to break the lock.
"What are you doing?" Faelan remarked, glaring at her.
"You said we should get off," she replied as she pulled the door open.
"So we're getting out."
She dropped from the truck and rolled through the dirt before coming to a stop.
Rising to her feet, she stretched her limbs, a smile forming on her face.
Faelan followed shortly after, trying not to roll nearly as much.
He pushed himself upright, the pain from his cracked rib having faded considerably, though it was still there.
"What now?" Ria asked.
"This is basically the edge of Solax, so staying around here might be too risky. I'll head to Dorvel right away," Faelan replied.
He knew Ria had no real destination in mind, but he wondered whether it was wise for her to remain in Solax. The Ryve uniforms bore no insignia, yet it was clear their colors were associated with Solax officials.
"Do you have anywhere in mind yet?"
"Not really," she replied.
"You should probably get out of Solax's territory."
"Is that where you're going?"
"You could say that."
"I'll probably tag along then. I've got nothing else to do."
"Oh. Alright," he replied, turning toward the savannah.
"We'll be running from here. Can you see that tower?" He pointed toward a distant silhouette.
"Yes."
"We'll have to get there before sundown."
"Why?"
"Making camp out here is basically suicide."
Faelan looked toward Ria.
"You ready?"
He noticed her breathing had evened out slightly.
"Lead the way," she replied.
With that, they set off across the savannah at a steady pace.
***
A man clad in a purple combat suit walked toward a woman crouched beside a mound of rotting flesh.
He was followed by four others.
Black hair framed his face, and a short beard clung to his jaw beneath a pair of glassy mismatched eyes.
The woman's gray eyes remained fixed on what may once have been the creature's head. Small horn-like structures protruded from the decaying mass.
"I thought you were looking for someone?" she asked without looking up.
"We are, but we've been given a higher-priority mission," the Ryve captain replied.
"It's long gone."
The woman stood, the lower edge of her long white coat stained with blood and mud.
"You seem to be missing a man."
"Yes, we are," the captain confirmed.
"That's unfortunate."
"What happened here?"
"A natural disaster with limbs and a mind. What else does it look like?"
"You said it's gone. Why would it destroy this place and just leave?"
"I doubt leveling the jungle was its intent."
"What did it want then?"
"You don't have the authority to know."
She began walking away.
"Now leave. As I told you before, it's long gone. Tracking it is pointless, and I doubt you'd be able to subdue it."
The woman removed her bloodied gloves and handed them to another man dressed in white nearby.
She entered a seamless cube-like tent, her eyes immediately landing on a body laid across a metal table.
One hand was missing.
Its forehead was bruised.
No other injuries were visible.
"Cause of death?"
"He bled out," a girl in her early twenties replied.
She had silvery hair and deep blue eyes.
"What about the gene test?"
"We ran it three times, Ms. Wrenbil. It came back the same every time."
The girl paused as Wrenbil stopped walking.
"He's a Soiran," she continued. "The first confirmed sighting in centuries."
Wrenbil resumed walking and stopped beside the table.
"Zaleab, do you know the stories surrounding Glavog Jungle?"
"Y-yes."
Zaleab straightened slightly.
"Glavog Jungle used to have one of the highest rates of missing people in Solax. Most believed it was because of the plant life. However, the numbers dropped significantly around ten years ago."
"That's when rumors started spreading about a man with alluring eyes living in the jungle."
"People would take risks just to catch a glimpse of him."
She frowned.
"Why do you ask?"
"I've been in charge of this outpost for more than half a decade."
Wrenbil drove a scalpel into the corpse and sliced through its chest.
"And we had to wait for a damn Azryx to smoke this bastard out."
Zaleab flinched.
Wrenbil rarely raised her voice.
Yet even while shouting, she continued carving open the corpse with unnerving efficiency.
"Pass me the zallsaw," Wrenbil requested as she tore away the surface flesh.
Thick veins lined the tissue, feeling more like small hoses than blood vessels.
"R-right away."
Zaleab scrambled for the handheld tool, its rotating head covered in jagged teeth.
SSS-BRZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Wrenbil struggled to cut through the gray ribs.
It was like sawing through metal.
THUD
The front section of the ribcage came away in one piece.
She removed the heart first, followed by the lungs.
Then she paused.
"They're heavy."
"What do you mean?" Zaleab asked, unsure what she was looking at.
"Heavier than a Ryve's. Maybe twice as heavy, perhaps more."
Wrenbil turned the heart over in her hands.
"The texture is strange too. The surface feels almost like leather."
She glanced toward Zaleab.
"What was the body weight?"
"One hundred and seventy-three kilos."
"Give me a hand."
Together they rolled the body over.
Wrenbil cut into its back, exposing the spine before carefully separating it from the surrounding tissue.
The bone was thinner and darker than expected, yet just as tough as the rest of the skeleton.
The spinal cord was even more unusual.
At least five times thicker than that of a normal human.
She moved on to the skull, cutting it open and exposing the brain.
Her eyes narrowed.
The organ was divided into distinct sections, separated by rubbery walls of tissue.
"Interesting."
"What?" Zaleab asked.
"It's similar to a Lyth's. Do we have anything useful on Soirans?"
"No. Knowledge regarding Soirans isn't available to many people."
"Tch. I know that."
Wrenbil exhaled softly.
"Bring me what we have on Lyths."
"Yes, Ms. Wrenbil."
***
The tower had finally come into view as the setting sun cast long shadows across the savannah.
Ria followed behind Faelan, who was panting heavily, though her own breathing had become somewhat steadier.
They reached the outpost.
Low walls surrounded the tower at its center.
Faelan produced the key and unlocked the door.
It was just as he remembered.
Inside, the air was stale.
Dust coated almost everything in a thin, undisturbed layer, softening edges and muting colors.
A cot sat pushed against one wall.
A crooked table stood nearby, one of its legs replaced by a stone.
Against the far wall stood a manual water pump.
Faelan headed straight for it.
He drank in large gulps before finishing with a long, satisfied sigh.
Ria stared at him for a moment, then at the pump. She took a few small sips.
Faelan went over to the window and opened it, letting in the cool evening breeze. He then went over to the table.
He noticed Ria sitting on the windowsill, one leg outside, her back against the wall. The window was large enough for it to seem somewhat comfortable.
Faelan went through what they had left. It was enough for another day.
He lit the charcoal stove in the corner, heating the dried meat they had in an attempt to make a warm meal.
It didn't take long to heat up.
He passed some to Ria, who was still on the windowsill.
"Hungry?" he asked as he handed it to her.
With a nod, she took it, eating almost immediately, unbothered by the heat.
By the time they had finished dinner, the moon had already revealed itself, half full, silver glow seeping into the room.
Faelan collapsed onto the small bed.
Ria remained by the window.
He was sure she'd stay there.
She'd squirm periodically, her breathing still uneven. It seemed she was better while they were running.
"I don't think you should stay there. Wulcs could get in."
Wulcs were large nocturnal aves, with large eyes situated directly on their flat faces, broad wings that made almost no sound, and talons and beaks capable of breaking bones.
"Don't worry about it, it'll be fine," she assured him, a small smile creeping across her face.
It didn't put him at ease.
He didn't press the matter.
Wulcs weren't common. He had only thought to warn her just in case, but in truth, her falling was the more likely scenario.