MIDAS

The metal was rough to the touch; the boy's finger went over the bumpy flakes that grew atop the metal. His brows sunk as his stomach growled, his lids still closed as he tried his best to concentrate on making his mana flow through his body. Even though it stung, Midas moved his forearm to let it rest on top of his leg.

„Here, have some." Haya held a piece of smoked meat under Midas's nose, his head slightly shifting towards him as a slim smile formed on his lips, watching Midas slowly open his eyes to grasp the slim piece of meat, chewing on the rubbery fibers of it. Haya distributed the dried meat and flatbread around the group, some of it remaining for Graf to grab once they arrived at their destination.

„Your fingers must hurt, right?" Midas paused to chew down the thin slab of jerky, looking down at his arm again as his left grasped the meat. „How long did you take to learn this… technique of yours?" His gaze slowly traveled toward the burst-up skin atop Hayas's knuckles, thin pieces of skin sticking out from it. Watching Haya cover up his hand with the other, his head looked upwards into the sunken eyes of his comrade. 

"Haya... was gifted this ability by my father." Iyana began to speak, her voice slow and slightly unsure; she continued. "As a test of strength and will, he was forced to train in this style of fighting—one usually passed down between family members." Her voice grew thin, her head sunk, as Midas saw her arms travel upwards to cover her body, its movements bending the broad cloth that covered her. "I'm at fault for his shame. I was unknowing—too focused on myself... That I forgot about him." 

His words stuck in his throat, Midas was only able to watch as Haya slowly came closer to lay his hands on Inaya's shoulders. "Raise your head; I wanted to follow you—accepted the deal your father gave me. You shouldn't be worried about the shame I still am not able to accept yet..." Trying to sound through the metal that masked the girl, Haya searched her face, his brows sternly pressed against each other, reaching for her attention.

"Shouldn't—I know, yet... I should've been the one who endured this grueling training, I who so desperately voiced my dream to him. And because I didn't suffice for inheriting my father's art... You had to force yourself because of me." Leaning forward so her ear could rest on Hayas's chest, her hands followed to now lay on him; unchanged in demeanor, Haya sternly viewed the passing dunes of sand as they passed by. 

His fingers gripping slightly tighter onto her shoulders, as Haya finally redirected his gaze onto the metal shielding the girl's face, he spoke, "I am sure that an honorable man like your father gave me this ability—made me undergo this training—just for your protection... So allow me to at least free him from one of his burdens." Haya voiced, his sound much more determined, as he met Midas's lowered gaze. "Forgive me, I didn't even answer your question..." Haya came closer to the boy, as he began to smile slightly, leaving Inaya to herself, his reassurance strengthening her posture.

"The technique of curling up your fingers like this to flatten your hand—effectively making it a sharp blade to fight with—was quite easy to learn." Haya showed Midas closely, as his fingers began to fold into each other, closing his fingers up without forming a fist. Straightening the back of his hand, both youths watched, Midas mirroring his motions. "Something that took much longer to master was getting my mana to flow freely to my body... as well as growing my lacking mana supply, of course. It's quite easy to do that... You just have to relax and enjoy the wind. Make sure to eat and drink; sleep is very important as well..." Hayas's gaze wandered towards the front as he counted every single important detail he knew about the usage of mana.

"So learning the fundamentals first is important—especially for the usage of null abilities..." Midas murmured to himself as he leaned back on the hay, his eyes closed, slowly realizing Hayas's words and Jihid's teachings matched flawlessly at their core. Midas took a deep breath, slightly overwhelmed by what children his age were able to do, already mastering techniques while he didn't even bother with starting to understand the fundamentals. 

"Null Abilities...? What's that? Sounds interesting..." Haya turned his slim smile still forming on his lips, and Midas watched as the sledge slowly came to a halt. A dim wind howled through the flat dunes, the sun already starting to set as the young girl got up to awe at a giant rift splitting the sands in front of them. The sledge finally parked at the edge of its entrance, sand and stone already flooding its base, sloping down in front of them. Tiny masses of sand grains fell into the crater, kicked up by the winds, accumulating in the remains of an ancient underground walkway, now exposed by the shifted earth. 

Without setting foot onto the sand, Graf got up from the front seat, stopping to view the opening in the sand, splitting the few abandoned tents that were left behind by northern troops in two parts. The young girl laughed in excitement as Midas laid eyes on the camp. Tiny tents set up between torn cloth, submerged wooden beams, and abandoned sledges; a faint streak of smoke escaping a burnt-down campfire seemed to be the only thing that moved.

"Well, this wasn't here last time..." Graf spoke to himself, uneasy. He hopped off the sledge; not waiting for the rest of the group, he grabbed his short dagger, checking out two left-alone tents, a white cloth spanning around long sticks, strapped down by metal nails and bound together by rope at the top, forming a pointy roof. The sand-swept interior was completely empty, a dim candlelight giving color to the darkening plains of sand surrounding the tent. "Completely abandoned, it seems—much in a hurry they must have left—were they attacked by dune wanderers...?" Midas and the young girl peeked inside the tent; sand rested on sleeping rugs, and iron swords were lying on the floor, left behind just like the tent.

"They must've hurried to retreat. Are sun shards able to... cause rifts like these...?" awing at the burst-up ground splitting the camp in two, Midas risked looking downwards, his gaze quickly snapping to the ancient-looking pathway freed by the hole. "Perhaps one of the dune wanderers attacked from underground, knowing about the camp's exact location—using the tunnel to attack in surprise..." Graf made his way towards the boy, looking down at the rubble that was scattered across the sand. 

"Dunewanderers tend to avoid things like that; none dare to enter these underground ruins... They believe it grants them bad luck—or whatever it was that the sun prophet told them. Alma was really the only one I knew who seemed interested in the findings that were brought from under there." Midas's gaze shifted upwards to the bald man, his grip tightening around the handle of the hoe as he looked downwards to the opened-up tunnel again. "Wait a minute, we could get rich here..." Graf began to form a grin, his fingers sliding up and down his chin.

"Findings? As in treasure...?" Midas asked cautiously, unable to muster what Graf seemed to plan out. Watching him glance over to the carriage again, before he turned to look downwards again, his view finally catching onto the youths again. "You seem to know about these..." Midas remarked shortly.

Inaya held herself back from nearing the opening; uncertain, she stepped behind Haya as he followed Graf. The young girl was eager to show Inaya the contents of the rift, restrained by the masked girl from approaching the opening. The sun began to vanish by the time Graf was able to start a fire; the sky darkened slowly as the group crouched down around it. "If we keep up our pace, we will arrive at the drylands in no time. Once we pass them, we're in Northerner territory..." Graf leaned back, his voice dry, as he held the left-behind piece of bread in his hands.

Midas's eyes were sternly fixated on the driver, reminding himself that Graf was originally traveling the northern dunes in order to make deals, a failed salesman, unable to make any income for a while. His reaction towards the opening that stretched out mere footsteps away from their camp made the boy wonder, uneasy as he was unsure what Graf would be willing to do to gain some money.

"We have a long adventure ahead of us—finally able to rest from the long distance we were able to travel... Why don't you go to sleep...? Heal up, so we can continue to travel tomorrow." Raising his tone as he spoke to the group of children, Graf shot up once he finished digesting his bread. Iyana was the first to leave, tightly holding onto the young girl, looking back out to the distant darkness surrounding the group, unable to find the crack in the sand. 

"We should head inside the tent as well... Let your arm heal up for tomorrow." Haya sounded from him as he passed by the boy, his hand lightly resting on his bandaged shoulder as Midas realized his stern view, which was directly aimed at the driver, rubbing his dry eyes, before slowly following Haya. 

"You are right; let's sleep." Briefly replying, he glanced at the driver, uneasily finding a place to rest inside the tent.