Our setting:

A bright, sunny day, unremarkable like the scores before it. Being in the desert, there tends to be a lot of those. A small settlement, its denizens unfettered by the scorching rays of the sun, breaks the monotony of sand and coastline with a smattering of greenery. This is Alspo, a mere rest stop for weary travelers making the long aquatic journey around Kalanichi instead of through its unforgiving interior. While the town itself does not have much of note to offer locals nor visitors, its main draw is its convenient placement that allows sailors to restock, recharge, and steel themselves for the long journey ahead.

Our actors:

A woman on the docks, clad in a desert-appropriate poncho, wide-brimmed hat and light pants, overlooks a shipment of cargo being moved from a ship to the docks as she confers with its courier. A clipboard nestled in her arm and a quill pen in her hand designate her as a trader, one who's making sure that the goods she's been entrusted with have reached the checkpoint in one piece. In times like these that predate modern technology, trade is critical to establishing supply routes across the continent and allowing its residents to thrive in an unforgiving land.

Out of her sight, a tall, wispy man clad in a similar poncho and pants, but darker, oversees the dock area. The staff in his hands, with a winged hourglass, quivers with anticipation when pointed in the woman's direction. A thin smile crosses the man's otherwise expressionless face, as if he has found a target. Curiously, despite his noteworthy garb and the giant staff, others around the docks don't seem to notice him - like they're looking through him, almost. It could be the heat, or perhaps something else - but it almost looks like his form is wavering, like reality's grasp on him is temporary at best.

Begin scene.

"Gods, the sun cannot set sooner today."

The woman wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her arm and sighed after looking at how moist her arm had become. "I guess the fact that I'm sweating is a good thing in this heat," she quipped to herself. Despite being dressed properly for the area, her lightly tanned, freckled face and golden blonde hair served as a foil to the plurality of darker-skinned and -haired folks working the docks and stalls along the sea.

She made one more mark on an important-looking paper, tore off the top sheet, and smiled her best business smile. "Looks like everything's accounted for, Captain!" she said, storm-gray eyes moving from her clipboard to the weathered, gruff man in front of her.

"Aye," he agreed. "We had a bit of a rough spell about a week ago, ship damn near flipped over - but some clever distribution of manpower kept her upright." He took the completed manifest and rolled it up, placing it gently in a sleeve for safekeeping. "Now for the matter of payment, miss, uh… Reed, was it?" he started.

"'Bridget' is fine," the woman replied. "And right. Double-check my math there, but I believe I got the right amount?"

The captain's eyes glanced over the manifest and the tabulated columns, landing on the subtotal cell. "Yeah, looks right as rain to me."

"Rain… what I wouldn't give for some of that right now," Bridget opined. "No matter." She docked her pen and started counting coins into her now-free hand. "One, two, three, four, hundred and twenty, forty, sixty, seventy, five, six… seven," she counted out, placing each coin in her hand and passing the completed sum to the captain's outstretched palm. "Payment tendered in full."

The captain nodded and pocketed the coins. "Thank you for your patronage. Now, do you happen to know if the Siren's Song is still around? The crew and I want to spend some time on land before we spend a few more weeks being rocked to sleep by the waves."

"The inn up on the hill? Yeah, still around," Bridget nodded. "Not sure when the last time you came through here was, but Frieda retired. The new cook… is fine," she said, trying to be polite, "but if you're looking for a moqueca that was worth the journey you won't find it there."

"Duly noted," the captain said. "A few of my workers will help move these to the warehouse, then it's time for us to support the local economy. Pleasure doing business with your group, as usual."

"Kalanichi Imports feels the same," Bridget asserted. "One of my associates will meet you at the warehouse to receive the cargo. As for me," she said, stretching, "I have to go very enthusiastically balance some books," she finished, sticking her tongue out in disgust. "This morning's ship didn't properly secure their load, so… that was a fun conversation to have with their crew."

"Ouch," the captain winced in sympathy. "I'll leave you to it then."

"Cheers," Bridget said with a little wave. And with that, she turned and walked back towards proper land, the salty breeze blowing through her hair.

Her thoughts turned to the road ahead - the next leg of these goods' journey was to a Naturalian settlement deep within the continent. Normally, humans and Naturalians didn't intermingle, but the one thing that rings true across time and space is that trade is a necessity for success. Bridget's company specialized in such exchanges, having liaisons across the continent for these limited trade routes. As the route navigator for the caravan she would be loading up in the next day, her job was simple - get the cargo there in one piece. Getting the humans there also in one piece was a nice added bonus, but KI didn't pay for that. She found her thoughts wandering to the captain's words - ever since the management changed, the Siren's Song did kind of suck. How she missed that moqueca, with the juiciest clams, and mouthwatering broth…

Her thoughts of seafood were so intense that she completely failed to notice the person she was about to stroll into until her subconscious picked up on them in her field of vision. "W-wah!" she yelped, coming to a sudden stop and swaying back and forth to prevent falling over. The clipboard fell to the ground, clattering loudly.

Once her balance and vision steadied, Bridget let out a little huff! of relief as she picked up her clipboard and addressed the man before her. "My apologies," she started, "I didn't see you there."

He looked at her - through her, almost? - and smiled wanly. "It happens all the time," he said. "Are you… going inland?" His voice had an airy quality to it, like his mind - or entire presence - was elsewhere.

Odd question, Bridget thought to herself, but hey, she did owe this guy basic courtesy. "Uh, not me personally, but my company does. Kalanichi Imports?" she said, hoping the name would ring a bell. Nevertheless, she went on. "We manage trade across the continent and the next caravan leaves tomorrow. Can I… help you?" Bridget asked curiously. The man didn't look like a street beggar or anything, but he also was not exactly a dead ringer for the usual merchant folk/side quest givers she was accustomed to around these parts.

"In a way," the man replied, so frustratingly vague. His gaze met hers, and Bridget startled a bit - what was previously a lax, unfocused expression had become piercing and intense. The timbre of his voice remained lofty, however. "I actually have a tall order for you… if you have the time to chat?"

Bridget looked around - was she being mugged? Did she just accept a shipment from the mob? The people on the docks behind her did not seem to notice at all, and ahead of her, the normal hustle and bustle of the portside shops had been dulled down to a low murmur. Strangely enough, even the crash of the waves on the rocks seemed like it had faded away. She got the distinct feeling this man was more than he appeared… and possibly dangerous.

So, naturally, she led with it. "Sir, are you going to hurt me?" she asked, taking a step back. Maybe her pen was sharp enough to gouge an eye out?

His eyes widened slightly for a second, then his gaze returned to a more friendly, less stabby one. "Oh! Oh, no, that's not what this is about at all." He gestured to the bag he was carrying, gently removing a tome from it. It looked weathered, but it smelled like the pages had just been pressed. The cover was inlaid with intricate designs, fanciful swirls and lines converging on a small, hollowed-out socket in the center. "You see, I am not the mere human I appear to be," the man began.

This guy is definitely going to stab me, Bridget thought. There was a rock next to her left foot, maybe if she lunged for it…

"I am what you mortals call a sage," he continued. "One of the creators of reality, as it were. My name is Seres, and I hold domain over time." He ran his hand over the tome, gently tracing over the swirls.

Admittedly, that wasn't what Bridget had expected. "One of the what now?"

Seres continued, unfettered. "Truthfully, your world is in a bit of trouble. One I have seen following time's stream downriver… but it is not too late to change fate and divert its course. And you have been chosen to navigate these uncertain waters."

This was entirely too much for a weekday. "Wait. Wait up. Start over," Bridget pleaded. "None of this is making sense."

Seres sighed. He had seen this coming, quite literally. So he adopted the Exposition Voice tone. "So, the world order is threatened by a great evil that you can't comprehend right now. You've been chosen by divine right to defeat it. To do so, you will need a partner."

Bridget tried to stop her head from spinning. What was going on? "Like… a business partner? I have plenty of those," she offered weakly.

"No, those are not the partners I am referring to. Your partner will be one whom can channel the latent Rhythm part of all beings into all sorts of powerful displays. They are a blend of Natural and human, a harmony of both worlds."

Bridget racked her memory for clues. Ah, right… the animal-like people she occasionally crossed paths with in some of the larger human cities. Not to be confused with the people-like animals she did trade with out here. Some of the Naturalian settlements she traded with, she had noticed, had posted signs forbidding entry of these so-called "mezzos", a term she ascertained to not be a complimentary one. She had never stuck around one long enough to get to know them, but surely humans with cat ears and fluffy tails weren't some kind of abomination… surely?

"Your partner is out there," Seres continued, gesturing in the general direction of the dunes and desert that Bridget knew sprawled on for days, "and you are going to find him."

"I'm assuming I can't really say 'no, thank you' here," Bridget reasoned.

Seres smiled again, but with no mirth and the return of the piercing gaze. "Correct. Fated destiny, you seem to understand." He presented the tome to Bridget, holding it out expectantly. "This will help you. It is a conduit to channel Rhythm."

Bridget looked over it, trying to examine it covertly. Didn't seem like it was going to claim her soul or anything, but it just felt powerful, like it had an aura. Hesitantly, she took the tome from Seres and opened it. "Wait, this thing is blank? What am I supposed to do with it?"

"All will be revealed in due time."

Bridget was starting to wonder if divine beings enjoyed corny puns and non-answers as much as mere mortals. "And this 'partner'… do I have anything more to go off of than 'somewhere in the middle of this sprawling desert'? Do I have a description? How tall is he even?"

"That, you will have to find out on your own. But you will know." Seres stepped back. "I trust the fate of the world is in good hands."

Bridget held her head in somewhere between frustration and what-the-heck-just-happened-ation. "I have… so many questions. And how do I explain this to my bosses?!"

Seres turned around and started walking away. "You will know what to do," he called back, turning a corner just out of sight. "Don't tarry!"

Bridget chased after him. "H-hey, wait! No, I still have so many more questions!"

As soon as she turned the corner, she was greeted with nothing but an empty street. "What…"

The crash of the waves and general hustle and bustle of the docks returned as Bridget tried to process this morning. She was left just standing there like a dingus, in the road… but she had this tome that she didn't have before, so she at least knew that that was a real thing that happened and not the extremely sudden onset of mental illness.

With a deep sigh, and a new purpose in life, Bridget closed her eyes, and set her sights on her next goal…

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"I need a drink."

~~ A few hours later, nightfall ~~

At the Siren's Song, the smell of hot food, the sea breeze, and unwashed seamen permeated the air. Next to a particularly rowdy group of sailors at the bar, Bridget sat on a stool, staring at the tome. An empty mug of beer accompanied her.

"That some kind of holy book yer lookin at or somethin'?" the bartender asked, shooting Bridget a quizzical look. He cautiously took the mug from her, and nodded towards it as if to say "another?"

She nodded at the mug as he reached under the counter for a refill. "I'm… not sure, Ahmed," she admitted. regarding the book. "It's way too long of a story to tell here, but I basically had a cryptic yet life-changing experience on the docks earlier."

"Ah, I remember my first time," Ahmed said wistfully, placing a newly-filled mug on the counter. "The boys had just got a shipment of opium in from—"

Bridget cut him off. "No! No, not that kind of… ugh, it's not even worth explaining." She sighed in frustration. "Never mind." She looked into the mug, as if it would divine its mysteries to her. As she was contemplating the frothiness of the foam, a sudden door slam behind her jolted her out of her head. She whipped around for the source of the noise as the tavern quieted down.

A man and woman who looked like they had seen a ghost - or several - stood in the doorframe, panting. The look in their eyes was wild, one of terror. Coupled with their unkempt appearance, it was clear that the duo had seen some shit.

The bartender looked up at the couple, narrowing his gaze before it widened slightly, still apprehensive. "Kelly? Rowan? The hell happened to you? Aintcha two supposed to be going to Grandina?"

The woman - Kelly, apparently - staggered in, and sat at the counter with a shudder. "The… the desert spirit found us," she said, hesitantly, holding her cloak shut. Rowan followed her slowly, revealing a limp - his leg had been hastily bandaged. Some red still leaked through.

Bridget looked at the couple and struggled to remember them - they looked familiar, but how?

Whatever residual conversation had been going on was now silent and all eyes were on the two travelers. Ahmed's back straightened and his gaze darkened. "You saw it?" he asked quietly.

"Him," Rowan said with vitriol. "We had made it just over the dunes, past the Sunkissed Cliffs, and were trying to hug the rocks to lay low… but he found us," he explained, slowly, shakily. "Flew up into the air on his demon's wings and sicced his demon animals on us. Don't know how he got a lion out here, but I'm lucky that I'm a fast runner. … Or I was, anyway," he continued. "That thing had no real life left in its eyes, just hate and instinct. Even before it started chasing us, all my hairs were on end."

"We managed to make it to a crack in the rocks where his little army couldn't get us, I dressed his wound, and we waited… when we came out, there was a lion corpse in front of us. Like he sent it a message for not doing its job well enough," Kelly continued. "So anyway, fuck this delivery, Kalanichi Imports can stuff it."

Bridget jumped slightly at her employer being mentioned. "Y-you were on a run?" she asked the two, heart sinking into her stomach as she realized where she knew them from.

Rowan turned to her, confused by the question. "Yeah. We were sent on our merry way by— wait, we were sent by you," he growled, eyes narrowing. "Your company sent us out there to be killed!"

Suddenly all eyes in the bar were on Bridget, and not in the "damn, she's a looker" way.

Bridget held up her hands defensively. "Hey hey, wait!!! I didn't know anything about this! I just got placed back at this port two weeks ago!!" she cried out. It was true, she hadn't been assigned to this corridor for over a year. Bridget thought the sun would be good for her skin, but apparently nobody at HQ had bothered to inform her of some kind of terroristic threat that had cropped up in the meanwhile. "It was supposed to be simple… that's what my superiors had said…"

Kelly got up in her face, holding up a chest with the company logo on it, still tightly sealed if not a little run-down. Bridget recognized the symbol and engravings on the front as being that which KI used only for high-stakes items, akin to a jeweler's prized gem or a timeless cultural relic. "Sure, company girl. Well, we quit," she sneered, thrusting the chest into Bridget's lap. "If you want this delivery done, do it yourself."

And with that, she gruffly pulled back to the opposite end of the bar with Rowan. "Barkeep, two of your stiffest drink. On her tab," she hollered.

Ahmed looked at Bridget. "You guys in the habit of sending people to their deaths now?"

"No!" Bridget insisted, trying to avoid the daggers being stared in her direction by the other patrons, still. "We wouldn't… I wouldn't… nobody told me!" she continued. She sighed. "And yeah, put their drinks on my tab, whatever," she said, thrusting some coin at the man. "I'm going to make this right."

"Don't go running off into the desert," the bartender warned. "As we just heard, there are monsters lurking out there."

"I know that! I just need to talk to a superior. This… whatever this is," she hesitated, shaking the box a little as if that would divine its mysteries. No luck. "Whatever this is, it's a high-priority item for the company, so I'll get it done."

"You don't even know what they risked - and you are risking - your life for?"

"N-no," she admitted. "We never do. We're just importers, exporters, couriers and delivery agents." She closed her eyes, now having two objects thrust upon her today against her will to account for. "We don't ask questions beyond what'll get us through the checkpoints, and people at my level don't know the answers." Bridget put the tome back in her knapsack, and put the chest on the counter. "And if I so much as peek, some magic anti-tampering activates and I get fired and possibly cursed."

"Have you considered safer, less draconian lines of employment?" Ahmed continued, suddenly now her therapist.

"I mean, yeah, but… what I want to do is travel, see new places, and this was the best way to do that and earn a living," she said quietly. "I don't like putting people in danger, I never would have if anyone had told me."

Ahmed nodded and pulled her mug away. "You've been a good customer, and I've never had a personal quarrel with you. But for the sake of emotions tonight, I think it's best if you leave. No charge."

Bridget hopped off the stool. "Yeah, I get it. I've got to make a delivery, anyway," she said, turning to leave and ignoring the jeers of the patrons.

Moonlight streamed in through a skylight at the Kalanichi Imports warehouse and onto a desk in one of the back rooms. By candlelight, Bridget found herself alone, poring over transaction records, trying to divine what this mystery chest could possibly contain. Alas, all the records were useless.

Bridget rested her head in her hands and let out a sigh of frustration. "Why does everything have to be so confusing all of a sudden," she moaned, clapping the latest book of trade records shut. "First all that business with that sage… or whoever he was, and I can't believe the commander said this is my problem now…"

As if on cue, her bag at her feet started… vibrating?

"Oh, what now," she muttered, reaching into the bag and putting the tome on the table. "Okay, stupid book, what are you trying to tell me."

The book's lines started faintly glowing, then it burst open to the first page. Bridget's eyes widened, not actually expecting the book to tell her something. Slowly but surely, ink started to blot the page, "Magic book! Magic book!" Bridget yelped, falling backwards in her chair. "Aigh!"

With a groan, she got up, rubbing her arm. Thankfully she avoided hitting her head, but that wasn't a graceful landing. "What the…"

On the page, a single word. GRANDINA

Accompanying it, a stick figure with long hair holding a rectangle and an arrow.

Bridget pondered the meaning, but not for long, because it was pretty obvious. "So, the magic book wants me to deliver this box," she frowned.

It's not like destiny could dump any more on her today than it had already. "You know what, fuck it, okay universe, I'll do it," she said to nobody in particular. And with that, she went to the back room to grab some supplies.

An hour later, Bridget had assembled her things - a couple of days' worth of food and water, mitigation for the scorching sun and icy night winds, her knapsack which held the tome, the chest and a couple of other trinkets, and a company camel. Humphrey was mild mannered and had never given her trouble, even as she needed to employ him on short notice. And she had even left a note for whoever would be looking for him in the morning!

"Alright, boy," she said gently, leading him on the harness, "Grandina's a day away, and assuming we get there as planned, we should have plenty of fuel," she said, half to herself and half to her dromedary companion. Although, that was considering if she took the same route Kelly and Rowan did, and given their trip ended in misfortune…

Steeling her resolve, Bridget saddled up and pulled a satchet out of her pocket, one she had taken from the company storehouse that was used for such trips. Within it was a clipping from a plant native to the area around Grandina. She held the sprig under Humphrey's nose, allowing him to take in the smell. "You got our coordinates, Humphrey?" she asked.

After taking a few deep whiffs, the camel locked on to the scent. And with that, the two slipped into the waning night, knowing nothing but dawn ahead of them.

As the sun climbed high in the sky, Bridget looked at the map she had packed and compared the admittedly sparse landmarks to where she expected to be. "Hm… it's not far to the Cliffs," she muttered aloud, "How you holding up, buddy?" she asked her steed, patting his neck. He snorted in response. "I'm gonna take that as a good thing," she said. "Buuuut it's probably about time for a break. Tell you what, we get to the cliffs up there, we'll take a rest for a bit until the sun gets less intense."

Bridget pulled a flask from her side and drank from it, savoring what little water there was in this desert. "If only this magic book had magic water," she mused. The time spent silently riding a camel in the middle of nowhere had given her time to think - what path should she take to avoid the fate that befell Kelly and Rowan? The Sunkissed Cliffs were nigh unavoidable; to pass that long through the dunes without shade or shelter would be as suicidal as risking whatever danger laid in wait. More than that, further out in the dunes one was subjected to spontaneous and violent sandstorms that could cause disorientation at worst and had a decent chance to tank any chances of survival. So she steeled her resolve, and guided Humphrey towards the cliffs, which she could now see slowly approaching in the horizon. "There's our rest stop!" she said cheerily.

Twenty minutes later, Bridget and Humphrey were in glorious shadow, hiding in the reprieve granted to them by the Sunkissed Cliffs. A long, rocky spine erupted from the desert sands, its path eventually leading to literal and metaphorical greener pastures as the lands beyond the cliffs were more fertile than the unforgiving desert. Tough, for sure, but at least you had a chance when your sights for miles around weren't sand, sand and more sand.

As Bridget hopped off her trusty steed, she took a moment to take in the surroundings. Quiet, almost eerily so. The desert wasn't exactly teeming with wildlife, especially at this hour, but even the wind and sand noises had died down. Humphrey shifted uneasily, seemingly sensing something that Bridget couldn't. "There, boy," she said gently. Bridget loosened his straps and guided him towards a stalagmite she could hitch him up to. "Easy does it."

As she was tying the straps to the rock, Bridget became aware of something more than the silence - like something, or someone was watching her. That feeling where your arms feel the tiny pinpricks of goosebumps, and you're ever so slightly more alert… Bridget was going through that and more at the moment. Not one to ignore the body's "something isn't right here" signs, she paused tying Humphrey up, and felt for the dagger attached to her belt at the same time. Still there, still not going to win a war, but maybe it would give her enough time to run away. Humphrey started fidgeting more, now looking nervously from side to side. "H-hey buddy, it's okay," Bridget said, not even convincing herself.

From the corner of her vision, she detected a silent, yet menacing presence. Steadying her hand on her dagger, she turned around. "Who's there?" she asked the desert.

She started to hear… skittering? Like many legs moving on the rocky ground. Materializing from the cracks and crevices in the rock, multiple scorpions crawled out, quickly surrounding her. They were much bigger than she thought scorpions should be - these ones were about the size of her foot, in contrast to the finger-sized ones she was used to. And on top of that, these ones radiated a malice she had never detected before. While normal insects were keen to leave you alone if you left them alone, she got the feeling she wouldn't be let off so easily. Humphrey groaned loudly, sharing in her fear.

Dozens of red, beady eyes stared at her, waiting for her to make her move.

"Okay…" Bridget started, moving as little as possible. "I'm sorry, is this your rock? We'll go elsewhere. My mistake," she said calmly, wondering if scorpions even had ears. She slowly reached for Humphrey's lead, gently moving to lift it up…

The scorpions' eyes turned blood-red in unity, and glowed. As if they were a giant scorpion-sized phalanx, they moved in unison, closing in on her and her steed.

Bridget acted purely on instinct, dropping her camel's lead and severing it from the rock with a quick stroke. "Humphrey, RUN!!" she yelled, as he took off in one direction and she ran in the opposite. Was this the work of the desert spirit? No way, right? No time to think, though, as she could feel them chasing her, and hear them. She hadn't noticed until the adrenaline kicked in, but they were accompanied by a demonic ringing - like they were listening to some greater power who commanded them. How could she lose them? As much as she had a size advantage on them, human feet were no match for an insect's when navigating the desert.

And from what she could discern from the blood pounding in her ears and Humphrey's increasingly-different shrieks, almost all of them had followed her, and they were gaining on her. She had to do something or she would surely be overrun… or run out of areas to run to. As luck would have it, such was her fate. Bridget had directed herself right into a corner, with a sheer cliff face on all three sides and a psycho bug army behind her. As if realizing they had her pinned, they slowed their advance, but still moved forward one small leg at a time.

Bridget turned around, determined to make some kind of foolish last stand. "D-don't come any closer!!" she warned, with absolutely no teeth behind it. "Man, fuck this tome and fuck this box," she said under her breath, holding her knapsack in front of her defensively. She refused to believe she was going to die out here like this.

Bridget continued backing up until her back was literally against the wall. She took her final moments to hastily compose a prayer for whoever would listen - Hi, God and/or gods, I know I'm not much in the habit of reaching out, but I could really use some help right now…

The scorpions, ignoring her of course, continued their approach. Twenty, fifteen, ten feet away…

"Get back!!" a voice called out from above.

God?

With a giant, rapid whooshing of what sounded like wingbeats, a whirlwind kicked up, blowing sand and debris through the air in front of Bridget. She held the knapsack to her face to protect her eyes as the wind howled around her. Unfortunately, it did not cover her entire head, and God-or-whoever-it-was managed to kick a small rock directly at her skull. "Hgck!" she choked out before everything started to go dark.

The last thing she saw and heard was a shadowy figure entering her field of rapidly declining vision, then one word: "Shit."

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