MIDAS

Midas and Haya didn't speak much about what they saw. Graf had sent out Midas to check on him; upon their meetup, Midas was begged not to tell Inaya any details. The both of them knew exactly how shocked she was only after the attack of the guard from the quarry. Midas too had hoped not to see him; his expression grew bitter as his palm rested on his mildly aching wound. A cut not deep enough to penetrate any organs, yet enough to pain him once more. 

The young girl watched quietly, placing herself next to Midas to glance at the pair in front of them. Inaya's masked face was burrowed deep into Haya's chest; just by his eyes alone, Midas was able to feel his uncertainty; his sunken lids made his eyes glance at the many strains of hay, a sort of exhaustion plastered onto his facial features. After massaging his brows, his muscles underneath growing tired from his stern expression, Midas raised his head to the sky, taking deep breaths again.

The events that must've been playing out at the fight between Haya and the enemy driver puzzled the boy; the unorganic shape of the spiky ball, which stood like a wart right in the middle of the flat shore, was all he could think about. Midas knew the enemy had a sun shard; the fact he was able to erect all these surrounding beams of stone was not all that special to him. He knew by what Graf and Alma would be able to do that shifting around and forming stones would be possible with the sun shard.

Yet, the spiky stone ball he saw stretched out in front of him was much more different. For once, the enemy was able to make solid rock out of what seemed to be only sand; that feature alone baffled him once he saw the massive accumulation of pillars growing right out from the sands. Masses that used to exist in their shapes before were simply either destroyed, cut out, and shifted by what he saw Graf and Alma do, but the ball emerged by force, somehow forming by what the region around the stone user had to offer.

Something that also piqued Midas' interest was the mention of a cracking sound emerging from Haya's enemy right before the ball of stone formed. The enemy seemed to know that whatever he would do to end the fight most likely contributed to his death, as Haya described his body being torn apart by the masses of stone growing out of him. Midas felt bad for squeezing any last bit of information out of him; he remembered his shaky tone in which he described what he saw.

The sound most likely originated from the sun shard; the boy couldn't think of anything else that might result in such a weird growth. After it was broken, some sort of energy or mana must've escaped the shard. Forming the growth with the sand and rock surrounding them, exploding in a way in which the pillars must've formed as a result. Midas pinched the flesh of his right leg without noticing, lost in deep thought; he eventually sighed again, scratching the back of his head, unable to find an answer to how exactly something like that must've formed.

The sun came closer to the even waters, dimly revealing parked ships at the coast of the port the sledge steered towards. Its sails were wrapped together; the many wooden poles sticking out of the main body of the ships looked slim in the evening light. Haya eventually grew enough spirit to lay his arm around Inaya, still hiding herself in the poncho cloth that covered him. Graf seemed to be much calmer than the rest of the group; he didn't talk much after they got rid of the guards.

The image of him staring at his short blade after he picked it up from the sand it fell onto, after the quarry guard lost his foot on the ride, had burned into Midas' mind for some reason. His expression was similar to the calm face Alma used to have when writing letters, a concentrated glance downwards, stiff brows, yet no hint of trying to show dominance, embodying a quiet concentration towards whatever lay in between one's fingers.

The only words that he had spoken after were instructions for Midas to find Haya; his tone seemed usual, yet Midas felt some sort of pressure weighing on him, not dread like he had felt inside both of the villages they visited, weirdly enough resembling a way of grief. The more the boy thought about the way he held his shortsword in his hands, the more he wondered about where he would be now if the rusty sickle in front of him wouldn't be there.

Midas flinched suddenly; a sharp pain was forced to emerge from his wound on his back. As he turned, he saw the young girl directly looking up at his curled-up lips. He finger quickly retreaving from the wound once the boy had turned to her, Midas watched her sinking her head for a quiet moment before turning to Inaya again. "I'm sorry to ask you this right now, but... would you mind applying this paste you have used on me once more...? The cut on my back stings quite badly." An uncertain finger held out to her, Midas spoke, not trying to provoke her.

Inaya's quiet, muffled whining stopped. Turning to him in slow motion, Hayas's hand retrieved slowly as he caught his breath; she stopped for a while, her hands going through her inner pockets hidden behind the long robe that covered her body. She watched as Midas turned his wound towards her, his head looking back to her, as she began to apply the red paste onto his skin. "Forgive me; I get emotional when someone reminds me of my father..." Her fingers trembled slightly as she stopped for another quick second, "I am blessed to have Haya protect me...".

"This man, he was a guard who worked under Alma... He gathered and brought prisoners in and out of the northern fort. I met her the day she was meant to be sent to one of these quarries... We were able to escape. I suppose we were blessed to have Graf show up in that same quarry that day." Midas's voice tried to reassure her, yet he too felt much more uncertain than he liked to admit. The desert was just the start; the boy knew nothing about the northern lands. The only book Alma had in his possession regarding their language now rested lonely on his table, in a room Midas was unable to go back to.

"You had ties to Alma...?" Inaya stopped abruptly; her breathing became more noticeable once she spelled the name. "He was a regional sun priest—meddled with the royals, then was promoted into the ranks of the higher generals... He insisted on leading the northern Fort. My father often spoke about him..." Inaya turned her head to the side, glancing at the dark water; its waves reflected the dimming sun in short sparks as the waves folded into each other, disappearing in the mass of water right after they emerged from it.

"He... freed me from my cell, gave me enough to eat and drink, and even provided a room and books for me to study. Maybe... There was a greater reason as to why he insisted on taking over the leadership of the northern fort..." Midas glanced downwards at his bandaged right arm; even though it hurt greatly, he was somewhat able to move the upper halves of his fingers again. His thumb and tiny finger were easier to move than his middle and ring finger; with his left hand, he felt the even slab pounded into his flesh.

Disrupted by a growling stomach, Inaya turned to Haya; Midas was quick to raise his head again, slowly making his way onto his original seat again. "Graf... How long will it take us to get there...? I'm hungry, and my throat is all dry..." Haya complained in a dry manner, his head falling back, loosely hanging out from the carriage, not wanting to wait any longer to arrive at the port.

"Be quiet...! Remember who has to pay for all of this...! Ungrateful pack..." Graf shouted back at Haya in his usual shrill tone, mumbling words into himself to voice his complaints. "Giv'Narva is right in front of us... I can't believe I have to pay an entry fee..." The bald driver announced, as the lit-up sandstone buildings and slithering mud walls making their way in between the many houses grew closer to the group.

"Whoa... Ships...! Look at their size...!" Haya quickly turned his body around to grasp the wooden boards nailed onto the sledges sides to act as railings, his body leaning out to the vast body of water bordering Giv'Narva. His broad smile eventually turned to Midas, momentarily freeing him from his thoughts.

"Finally something to eat..." Midas remarked quietly, joining Haya to view the ships once more.