With a light groan and a heavy head, Ira lifted herself up—she now lay on the ground covered in a makeshift blanket; the crackling of fire filled her ears.
'What is going on..?'
Glancing around, Ira noticed Astheneia staring into deep space—her gaze centered on the campfire.
With a loud crack from the fire, Astheneia snapped back to Ira.
"Oh, hey.. Ira was it? How was your sleep?"
Astheneia looked paler than usual—maybe it was caused by the moonlight glow that illuminated the dreadful desert.
"Why do you ask..?"
After realizing the possible implications of her comment, she quickly began an attempt to backtrack what she had said.
Rather than growing agitated, Astheneia put on a warm smile for Ira—only for the sweet moment to be ruined by her begging Ira to join the Hellguard.
"So what do you say, Ira? I promise it pays generously, ask Adonis if you do not believe me!"
'Way to kill the moment..'
With a nervous smile, Ira answered:
"M-maybe.."
The atmosphere began to grow awkward for a moment under the silence of each other. In an attempt to light the mood, Astheneia spoke.
"But you will have to work on that killer stutter if you want to join, though!"
The comment was meant to be harmless—but to someone like Ira, it was not.
The atmosphere which was one of awkwardness, had begun to morph into something else—agitation; agitation permeated by Ira.
"Hey, hey..! I did not mean it like that.. I was just trying to lighten the mood! Forgive me if I did any harm to you, Ira."
With a heavy sigh, the silver-haired girl turned her head away from the giant brunette.
'Rude..'
She had no intentions of holding what Astheneia had said to her over her head—that did not change the fact that it had hurt Ira, even if just a little bit.
◇
Boredom began to besiege Ira—her mind wandering to the scene of men battling a serpent.
In an act to play the scene out to its fullest potential, she began to shape the meager amount of mist she had into knights and a monstrous serpent.
With a swing of one of the knight's blades, the serpent's throat was split open. In a furious display of power, the abomination continued its absolute destruction across the land of the humans.
Astheneia glanced in the direction of Ira, growing intrigued at the shapes Ira had conjured up.
"Why a Drakon out of all abominations?"
Ira did not know what a Drakon was or meant, but assumed it based on the pronunciation that Astheneia meant a dragon
"A dragon, you mean?"
An expression of utter confusion appeared on Astheneia's face:
"Dragoon? What is a dragoon?"
The young girl internally laughed at Astheneia's mispronunciation of the word dragon.
"It's, dragon, not 'dragoon'. A dragon where I was born is a legendary, reptile-like creature. They are typically massive and very powerful. They are depicted as winged, fire-breathing, scaly, horned, and four-legged abominations. My turn to ask a question, what is a Drakon?"
When Ira's interests are brought up, it seems as if all her shyness disappears—who does not love to speak to others about their interests?
"Well, from where I was born, a Drakon is a serpent-like creature.. do not ask me about the details—I only remember the word from my childhood, after all."
Astheneia spoke with a gentle tone, clearly enjoying Ira's presence, along with the absence of her usual shyness.
Soon, they went back to doing their own things.
Ira's mind began to stray from the path of mythical creatures and legendary heroes—onto something more personal.
Conjuring up a figure of two adult humans and one child, Ira donned an expression of sadness and grief.
Noticing Ira's distress, Astheneia spoke:
"What is that meant to convey?"
Glancing up at Astheneia, the silver-haired girl sighed tiredly.
"It is.. My parents. You know the saying, 'enjoy the things while they last'? I did not get to do that with my mother and father. It hurts knowing their time with me was cut short by these monstrous abominations.."
Astheneia did not know how to respond—there were no words that could comfort nor lighten the mood that came to her mind; but one thing was certain—she felt sorry for Ira.
Rather than dwelling on the death of her parents, Ira began to shape her mist into the first thing that came to mind—which just so happened to be the Dune Lord, the monstrosity she was tasked with killing.
The rough texture of its hide was as thick as a tree and as durable as steel; each of its eight arms was adept at maneuvering through the sand to ambush its prey, donning a pair of long, obsidian, sharp claws to cut any foe in its path to shreds.
"What the-! The Dune Lord!? How do you know what that damned creature looks like, Ira!?"
Surprised by the sudden burst of energy and emotion in Astheneia's voice, Ira struggled to answer—her usual shyness taking over once more.
"I.. I just know.. my instincts scream at me, telling me where to go to find it, along with what it looks like and what it is capable of.."
Ira's palms began to sweat, her body becoming nervous. Had she said something wrong? Was the Dune Lord some top-secret entity? No.. it was obvious, both Ira and the Cohort of the Hellguard were sent to kill the same creature.
"Well then, enlighten me. What are its abilities? Where is it? How do we defeat it?"
Scrambling to find the words, Ira began to speak.
"Well.. uh.. haha.. it is capable of sensing vibrations through the sand—actually, it is half blind. With its massive body, it is capable of conjuring up minor sandstorms. I do not know how to kill it—I was hoping you would be able to.. as of this moment it is located-"
Cutting off Ira with a serious expression, Astheneia asked a question that would change their relationship entirely.
"Have you ever met an Oracle before..? Specifically, one that looks like an old hag?"
The silver-haired girl did not know what the Oracle looked like—everything about the Oracle was a mystery to Ira, with the exception of her plan to apparently save the world, using Ira as the means to do so.
"Yes.. Sort of? I did not catch a glimpse of what she looked like."
Not pressing for more information, Astheneia began to leave the campfire—heading towards another nearby where her allies were located.
Had Ira said something wrong? Perhaps she should not have said she had met an Oracle before.
'Is this similar to those people who always spouted about never telling a person in your dream that you are dreaming? But I did not even say I was in a Trial!?'
The more likely answer was that Astheneia had met an Oracle in the past too—one she was not very fond of.