Harper's Pathos

Chapter One: ...Into the Fire

The harsh rays of the sun washed a searing heat down upon the desert. Lumps of glass which were scattered throughout the sands caught the light, spreading the illusion of a blazing yellow fire for miles. This flaming desert stretched as far as the eye could see, and apparently as far as ones legs could carry them as well. The pair of adventurers were two days into their trek to Nayak, and the city was still nowhere in sight. Heat beat down upon them unrelentingly, as if the hells of Infernia themselves were testing their resolve.

While their water and food supply had held out nicely, the travelers themselves faired decidedly worse. Harper's clothes exposed much of their skin to the elements; the tint of their arms and shoulders in particular had gone from rosy to bright red in mere hours, and their burns only worsened with each passing minute. They winced with every movement as their skin singed evermore.

Morgan's cloak covered almost all of her body, protecting her porcelain skin from the angry star above. However, the dark colors she wore only aided in soaking up more heat; she panted and sweated as if trapped in a cloth oven. Each step Harper and Morgan took across the flaming sand was a labor, and all they had to make it more bearable was each other.

Morgan gasped from beneath her hood and nearly choked herself as she took a large gulp of water, hoping to stave off dehydration for the day. "This is the worst shit imaginable!" she exclaimed, "I can't take this bloody heat any longer!"

Harper found it hard to argue as their burnt skin continued to peel. They wished they could do something. They didn't want to suffer the scorching sun any longer, and they didn't want Morgan to, either. They scanned their mind for a solution, for anything they could do that might help, and it finally came to them.

"Hey," they started hopefully, "Maybe I could do something with my wind magic!"

Morgan hesitated, "Hmm, maybe... Do you think you can control it? I'd rather you didn't throw me on my ass... or knock yourself out, then I'd have to carry you. Again."

"It'll be fine, I want to at least try to help!" Harper insisted.

Morgan sighed, "If it goes wrong you aren't allowed to try again unless there's an emergency."

Harper's face lit up, "I'll take that as a yes!" They took what Morgan assumed was supposed to be a fighting stance and leveled their hands in front of them.

The wild-mage took a deep breath and focused in on the power they had felt during the fight with the bandits. Their breath, their heartbeat: it all felt connected to the magic, like they could feel the energy in the air moving and breathing along with them. They took one deep breath, that connection pouring through them, then shot a hand out toward Morgan.

A six foot wave of sand washed down upon the dark haired sorceress, as if shot upward by an explosion. It left in its wake a thick, brown cloud of dust and dirt: much like a sandstorm, only on a smaller scale. Harper's eyes went wide as they heard coughing and wheezing from within the cloud and they realized the full extent of their mistake.

The blonde reached a hand out to grab the figure within the dust, but it was quickly slapped away. A now sand-covered Morgan exited the cloud, rubbing her puffy, red eyes. The girl bit back a shout of pain at the sand in her eyes, holding the sound in her throat until it came out as a frustrated growl.

"Oh gods! Morgan, I'm sorry! I-"

Morgan held a finger out to them: a symbol Harper had come to know meant, "Shut up." The tall girl slouched over and held the bridge of her nose, clearly trying to calm herself down more than deal with the sand. "How about," she tried to keep her voice calm, though her tone was still venomous, "We try to find a shady spot to sit down for a bit. We can take a break," she blinked several more times, eyes watering, "and I can try to wash the sand out of my eyes." She turned to Harper wearing a big smile, though it was clear her jaw was clenched like a vice.