MIDAS

Hayas's clothes were drenched; only the sound of screaming coast birds and the crashing waves, which collided with the sand, filled the group. Iyana sunk her head, aiding her partner; she twisted the heavy cloth, squeezing slim amounts of water out of it. The rest of the group was quick to fall silent. Graf didn't sound the bad news in any indirect way; Midas looked out to the sea, his worry making it hard for him to enjoy the sight; his stomach made him remember in what situation the group was in.

The young girl was busy watching her toes sink into the damp sand grains, not understanding the thoughtful and worried expressions plastered onto the faces of her comrades. Midas caught a quick glance at her before turning to the group; loosely, they formed a circle, a habit that most likely formed on their long journey before he and the young girl had joined their party. "Are we short on money as well?" Midas was more direct than he had anticipated; his brows started to sharpen, uneasy about the forspoken raise in price and the entry fee.

"Well... I find it always important to have more, but it should be enough for the rest of the trip." Graf turned to Midas, slowly marching towards the inland, before looking back at the group. "Come on...! We don't have all day, and I'm starving." He shouted, forcing Haya and Inaya to focus. They quickly followed, as Midas alerted the young girl by nodding at her. Watching her quietly catch up to him, they eventually headed back to the sleigh. Before Midas was able to sit, he turned to the village one more time; his gaze quickly grew alert as he saw three figures emerge from a distant dune, their hoods flapped around as shore winds hit the region.

"Stop dawdling around...! Sit down already." Graf grew more impatient as he looked back at the boy. His annoyed gaze watched as the boy quietly crouched down to seat himself onto the hay, unable to see his uneasy expression as he quickly turned away again to steer the ride. Midas's head sunk downwards, and his eyes scanned through the wildly scattered strains of hay as he made himself remember the familiar-looking sleighs that were parked right beside the one he now sat on. Lost in thought, he didn't realize the ride was starting to move forwards.

Hiding his face under his crouched-up hand and legs, as Midas balled together to think, his mind began to race with multiple theories. If Alma used sledges that looked nearly the same as the ones parked next to them, then the three strangers would most likely be guards who patrolled the northern fort. His teeth began to clench at the thought of them seeking revenge, a feeling Midas should share with them, since Northerners like Graf invaded the fort and killed Alma.

Midas shook his inner head at this idea; the driver is just a bypasser, someone who even aided Alma in a way, transporting ores, as well as sending out reinforcements against the northern troops that invaded the fort. The one Midas should strive to kill would be the man with the scarf around his neck, the general who was to blame for Almas's death. Midas saw his saber stab through his flesh with his own eyes that night; just the thought of this event made his breath shaky. Just by pure instinct, his left hand firmly grasped the leather making up his trousers, clenching the thick material.

"Who's that...?" Haya's loose glance wandered around the passing dunes before locking onto a sledge behind them, leaning toward Midas' direction to get a better look at the ride; his eyes widened slightly as he viewed the tiny sledge quickly matching their pace. Midas was quick to emerge from his thoughts as he heard Hayas's uncertain words, turning back to the ride, its distance to it growing shorter with every moment. 

"I... I'm unsure. Possibly guards from the northern fort... I think they want our driver." Matching Hayas uncertain tone, Midas' replied back, his sight locked onto the three hooded men, "At least one of them has a sun shard," he added. Two of them stood on the back of the sledge, already grasping the handles of their short swords. Slowly the driver turned right; Midas and Haya readied themselves. Haya stood upright, while Midas balanced himself on his knees; his left hand grasped the handle of the sickle as Inaya slowly retrieved it.

"Gihins troops...? Why here...? Shouldn't they be busy defending the northern troops from advancing further into the dunes...? Their head signed a contract with the water kingdom—northern salesmen were allowed to enter and roam in their territory freely...!" Inaya pressed her palms together as she watched the sledge matching their pace, riding across the sand with the same tempo as Graf as they bumped into their right. 

"I knew it. You're no more than mere slaves..." One of the men sounded, and Midas's eyes widened at the familiar voice. In a quick manner, the man leaped on top of the hay. Haya was quick to react, jumping over the faint space in between their rides, barely avoiding the tiny blade from hitting his flesh. He crouched down, escaping the quick jab of the second guard. Haya dashed into the enemy; the knuckles of both of his hands dug deep into the guard's stomach area, and his agonizing scream could be heard escaping the metal covering his face.

Midas clashed blades with the familiar guard; leaning forward to press his left arm against the enemy, Graf was busy steering, quickly leaving the other sledge behind as its driver got up to fight Haya. The guard redirected the boy; his rusty metal glided away from the tiny blade, as Midas was forced to stumble forward, unable to turn in time, as the enemy stabbed into his unprotected flesh. His back ached badly, as his only set of fingers held onto the edge of the ride, eventually dragging himself up onto it, just to see the enemy grasp Inya's throat tightly.

"Hah... The daughter of the general. Squabbling with peasants and Northerners... You bring utter shame onto your family, girl. Even if you follow the Gihin faith, I'll end your life as well... Your father would wish me to do so... A much better faith than serving the northerners." Holding up the struggling girl out to the sun, he raised his blade. Inaya held onto his raised arm as her feet kicked around in vain. 

Dashing right in front of Midas, as his attempt to strike him from behind was cut short, the young girl dashed to the right side of the enemy; his open hip enabled her to strike. Holding onto Grafs's blade, the young girl rammed the metal into enemy flesh, making the hooded man tumble back before he fell off the ride. "Quick, Graf...! Turn back; we need to get Haya!" With a dry tone, Midas spoke to the driver, the three of them barely holding onto the edges of the sledge as Graf turned in a sharp maneuver. Midas's eyes narrowed, grasping the handle of his sickle tightly to endure the pain of his cuts.

The young girl laughed at the guard, who bled onto the sand. Graf passed by quickly, and Inaya laid her arms around the younger child, keeping her close, as she turned forward to look for the other sledge. Artificial-looking pillars of rock were sticking out of the grains of sand spanning the coast. Haya barely dodged the attacks of the enemy driver, flinching back as another beam of stone struck out from the ground right in front of him.

With time, an abundance of pillars were raised around them, encircling Haya in foreign-looking rocks. The hooded man stood in front of him, a faint orange light flickered from his chest area, his sun shard most likely slotted into a necklace. Haya took his time to catch his breath, a stern look mustered by his enemy; both viewed each other without moving a hinch. Haya was the first of them to break the quick calmness, retreating in between the pillars to hide.

His footsteps sounded from the many corners and spaces in between the lengthy rocks; his silhouette shot up from in between the rocks, and the enemy quickly turned to gaze at them before having to focus on another shape emerging from the forest of beams encircling him. In an attempt to strike the unknowing guard from his side, Haya shot out from the rocks in an instant, his knuckles striking the robed enemy before he was able to react, smashing him into the many erected pillars. 

His fingers still curled, Haya took cautious steps towards his hooded enemy. Uncertain if he was still alive, the uncertain boy came closer. The metal covering his enemy's face shone in the sun, his head leaned numb against the fractured pillar, and his limbs rested onto the sand without any trace of movement. His hands held out at the enemy, Haya crouched down to use one of his hands, slowly trying to lift the metal mask. 

Met with a stern view looking at him, a dark glance focused on his face, the enemy dashed into Haya, tackling him, as one of his hands tightly squeezed the stone inside of his palm. After hearing a faint cracking sound, the body of the enemy burst up; stone pillars emerged from all sides, quickly spreading out from the hooded man as they reached for Haya. Unable to grow tall enough, the ball of stone beams barely stopped in front of the boy.

Haya breathed shakily as he realized the enemy's intention of dragging the boy into death with him; his head began to lean into the sand as his eyes mustered the flat top of the stone pillar, a mere finger away from touching his nose. His gaze wandered downwards to check out his lower body, the rest of the stone beams barely avoiding crushing his feet. 

Midas emerged from the pillars surrounding him, slowly striding towards Haya, as his eyes locked onto the spiky rock ball in front of him, staring at it as he crouched next to him. His eyes wrinkled in the corners in disbelief; unable to speak, he dragged at Haya's body, his arm wrapping under his shoulder to grab him.

"A sun shard did this...?" Midas spoke in disbelief.