Deborah's POV
I slowly regained consciousness amidst the biting cold, my body stiff and aching as if bound in icy chains.
The chill gnawed at my muscles, and I instinctively curled up, trying to preserve what little warmth I had left.
I struggled to open my eyes and found myself still surrounded by the endless expanse of the desert.
The dunes stretched out in every direction, undulating softly under the dim twilight.
The sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving only a faint golden glow in the distance.
The same desert as before—but now, the sweltering heat had been replaced by a bitter, unforgiving chill.
The temperature had plummeted sharply as night fell, turning the once blistering wasteland into a freezing cage.
The wind howled around me, carrying with it a biting sting that seemed to pierce through my skin.
I tried to move my fingers, but pain shot through my hand.
I winced, suddenly recalling how I had sliced my palm open earlier to feed Matthew my blood.
A wave of panic surged through me.
My heart hammered in my chest as I quickly placed my trembling hand against his neck, feeling for his pulse—
Warmth. Steady warmth.
Relief washed over me.
His body was still warm; his pulse still strong.
He was alive.
I turned my attention to his wound, leaning closer to check in the dimming light.
Despite the darkness, I could see that the bandages wrapped around his abdomen were no longer soaked with fresh blood.
The bleeding had finally stopped.
He made it.
I released a long breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, the tension in my shoulders easing just a little.
I glanced around at the desolate wasteland that stretched out around us, feeling an overwhelming sense of isolation and despondency.
Aside from the relentless wind and the shifting dunes, there was nothing here—no life, no sound but the eerie whisper of the sand.
We were like lost souls abandoned at the edge of the world.
But I forced myself to focus. We were still alive, and that meant there was hope.
I cast my mind back, replaying the moments before I blacked out.
Every time I used magic, I felt bone-deep exhaustion, as if my entire essence was being drained away.
Especially with something as powerful as teleportation, the toll it took on my body and spirit was immense.
The magic seemed to devour my energy, leaving me weakened and vulnerable afterward.
I had to be more careful. I couldn't afford to push myself like that again.
At that moment, Matthew stirred beside me, letting out a low, pained groan. His eyes fluttered open, and I leaned closer, my heart skipping a beat.
"Matthew?" I whispered.
He blinked, then slowly sat up.
I stared at him in disbelief—his gaze was clear, almost bright, a stark contrast to the clouded, feverish look he'd had before.
"I feel… much better," he rasped, his voice rough but strong. "The pain… it's almost gone."
"Really? Don't move!" I reached out to steady him, worried that the exertion would reopen his wound.
But he shook his head stubbornly and pulled back the bandages wrapped around his stomach.
I held my breath, eyes fixed on the spot where the bullet had torn through his flesh.
Oh, my God…
The wound was nearly gone.
Where there should have been a gaping bullet hole and the jagged cuts I'd made, there was only a faint pink scar. I stared, my mouth falling open in shock.
"How… this can't be…" I murmured. "Yesterday, you were… you were bleeding so badly."
"I know," Matthew said softly, running his fingers over the smooth skin. "But… there was this warmth. It spread through my whole body… I could feel myself healing."
I froze, a realization dawning on me.
"It's my blood," I whispered.
He turned to look at me, his eyes widening.
We stared at each other for a long moment, the same thought flashing through our minds.
It was my blood—witch's blood.
"Maybe witch's blood has… some kind of regenerative properties," Matthew murmured, touching the scar thoughtfully. "It's incredible… I mean, it shouldn't be possible."
I nodded slowly, still processing what this meant.
Ever since we'd emerged onto the surface, I'd felt my magic growing stronger under the open sky.
It was as if something inside me had awoken, something that had been dormant for years.
I needed to test it.
"Ventus Swift!" I intoned sharply, trying to summon the teleportation spell again.
Nothing happened.
"Arania Tenebris!" I tried another spell.
Silence. No magic stirred in the air.
Each failed attempt left me feeling more drained, more empty.
My body was still too weak.
Taking a deep breath, I focused on a simpler spell—one I could manage even with limited energy.
"Ignis Ardens."
A tiny flame flickered to life in my palm, casting a faint, warm glow against the darkness.
The small fire illuminated Matthew's face, and I could see the exhaustion etched into every line.
"At least… I can do this much," I muttered with a weary smile.
Matthew reached out and gently closed his hand around mine, his touch warm and comforting.
"This is more than enough," he said softly. "Rest now. We'll take it one step at a time."
I nodded, fighting back a wave of dizziness.
I carefully set the flame down on the sand, letting it burn steadily between us.
The wind howled around us, colder and fiercer as the night deepened.
We huddled together beside the meager fire, clutching our last scraps of food.
It was barely enough to stave off hunger, but it was all we had.
"We'll get through this," I murmured, my voice barely audible over the wind. "Once I'm stronger, we'll teleport out of here."
"Tomorrow… everything will be better," Matthew agreed softly, his gaze steady and determined.
The lone moon hung high in the deep night, its silvery light gently spreading over the undulating dunes, casting a gentle glow across this desolate world.
"That's the moon," he murmured quietly, his gaze fixed on the bright orb in wonder.
"Yes, Matthew," I whispered back, smiling softly as I squeezed his hand gently.
"You might have read about it in books, but this… this is what it really looks like. The moon phase is a waxing gibbous. In a couple of days, it will become a full moon."
Matthew was silent for a moment, as if absorbing my words.
He shook his head slightly, a faint, wry smile playing on his lips.
"But when the full moon comes, you'll understand its true meaning." I held his gaze, my tone softening into something more serious.
"That's when you'll experience your first true transformation as a werewolf."
He froze for a moment, then chuckled softly, a flicker of both humor and disbelief dancing in his eyes.
"A werewolf transformation… it's hard to imagine. But then again, all of this—being here, seeing this moon—it already feels like a scene from a dream."
I leaned gently against his shoulder, staring up at the nearly full moon above, a swirl of emotions filling my heart.
I was silent for a long time, staring into the flickering flames.
Then, almost hesitantly, I spoke again.
"Matthew… I had a dream."
He looked at me curiously, waiting.
"I dreamt of a place… nothing like this. It was beautiful—there were mountains, rivers… and people, living freely on the surface. They weren't affected by the Enigma radiation."
Matthew's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"
"Yes. It… it felt real. Like it was a vision of somewhere we could actually find," I said slowly, my heart starting to race with excitement.
"And I think… it's the place marked on that map." I took a deep breath, the words coming out in a rush. "It's called Tirfothuinn."