Chapter One
Hot.
I am utterly convinced that if I were to lose all sense and reason, only one word would cling stubbornly to my disoriented consciousness: "hot."
Moments ago, I had basked in refreshing coolness. Now, in the most capricious of ways, I found myself drowning in a relentless, suffocating heat. As my vision adjusted to the piercing glare, an endless ocean of sparkling gold stretched before me.
In such a perilous state, one had only two choices.
One: pinch yourself as hard as you can and hope to wake from this fevered dream.
Two: may the heavens be in your favour. Dig yourself a hole and pray it ends quickly.
Either way, I needed to take heed of the situation at hand.
A door. Yes, there was a door. Flash, flash—poof, then this scenery.
The door. I need to find it.
Where is it?
Wait—where am I?
A deafening silence answered my questions. A shiver crawled over my skin, though the heat was near unbearable. There was something here—a familiarity buried deep within me, like a memory just out of reach. It hovered at the edges of my mind, close enough to grasp, yet worlds apart.
The sand beneath my feet was scorching, burning even through the fabric of my shoes. My legs wobbled, unsteady, as I staggered forward, my mind desperate to make sense of this desolate landscape.
Sand. Hold on—
Why was there sand underneath my feet?
In spite of this hellish heat, I felt a shiver crawl over my skin as realization hit me. Spread as far as I can see was a ceaseless sea of sand.
The dunes stretched out before me, their golden hues seeming to shift and dance in a bewildering display of light and shadow. Fear clung to me like a cloak. The sense of isolation and disorientation that plagued me made me dizzy. I struggled to make sense of the shifting sands and strange, undulating dunes that surrounded me, as my breaths grew heavier.
As I stumbled forward, driven by an impulsive compulsion perhaps, I could not help but feel as though I was teetering on the brink of some great and terrible realization. Yet, instead of trying to figure it out, now I wanted to run away from it.
That was why I had to move.
Anything but stillness—stillness meant surrender.
Then, a sound.
Distant. Faint. But undeniably real.
I ignored it. My only focus was to keep moving, to fight against the dizziness threatening to consume me. Succumbing was not an option.
"I have to... keep..." My lips cracked as the words rasped out, scraping against my parched throat.
A weight settled on my shoulder.
I turned my head, neck aching from the strain. Sharp eyes peered at me from beneath the folds of a cloth. Sounds—foreign, incomprehensible—spilled into the stifling air, but their meaning eluded me.
Smack!
Pain bloomed across my cheek, sudden and jarring.
"∆∆∆∆∆! ∆∆∆∆, ∆∆∆! ∆∆∆∆... me?!"
The world blurred. Shadows moved at the edges of my vision, more figures emerging, their voices twisting and overlapping in strange, unintelligible tones. I struggled to make sense of them, but the syllables melted together into a discordant hum.
I wanted to tell them to go away, to demand answers, but my tongue refused to move.
"∆∆∆∆, ∆∆∆∆∆∆∆ ∆∆∆ ∆∆∆∆∆!"
"∆∆!"
Go away.
As if answering my silent plea, my vision darkened. A wave of dizziness crashed over me, pulling me under. The ground felt distant, no longer solid beneath me. My limbs were heavy, detached. The world tilted, spiralling into nothingness.
Then, silence.
Darkness.
Stillness.