Callisto

Path of Light (pt. 1)

Heat draped itself across the warrior's body and her dog like ember-coated fingers seeking to prod at them both. They felt it as they emerged outside the apartment block and followed the long, broken road of the Iron Forest. This heat was the city of the dead's omnipresent defense system – constantly bearing down on its citizens.

Rain-Born felt the sands sift between her toes as though they probed her vital joints for weakness. She kept her eyes glued to the tops of each rigid iron tree with blown-out windows and couldn't shake the feeling – this irresistible notion – that this place was somehow alive. Everything that had happened thus far had been a test of her – of their – resolve. She and Jespar had made it this far, and the Forest had enjoyed toying with them. Its sandy bowels had lurched as it giggled playfully at each impediment it threw up in their way. If the stories Jespar had told her had the ring of truth, then the residents of this place surely felt the same – for none wondered in the open dunes that snaked between the great iron trees.

None except she and her Jespar.

She looked at him and realized why she felt such unease: he was quiet. He had been ever since they entered the city. Even with the help he had given her, he had seemed more distant lately. He still hadn't accepted her offer of staying with the tribe. But then, she couldn't blame him for that. Looking around this place – seeing this empire of iron and steel and imagining what it must once have looked like in its prime – she could understand how one such as he would find it difficult to blend in with those who walked the desert sands, arm in arm, and spoke in hushed whispers of the evils of the Old Worlders.

She had done some recon before he found her and delivered his hoard of water – much needed for the trial to come – but her surroundings still perplexed her. Destroyed placards and drained neon signs clinging to the sides of the city towers bore messages that meant nothing to her: '30% off women's swimsuits', 'Back to school accessory sale now on!', 'Go Green this year with Driscol's Dux: your no. 1 renewable energy provider!' and one sign that read simply 'XXX: Adult' outside a particularly dark and dingy alleyway. When she quizzed Jespar on the purpose of this message, he merely whistled and walked away, mumbling, "Don't know nothin' about that, kid. I ain't no peeping Tom."

She finally arrived at the spot she had marked in her memory from the day before – the tiny establishment built outside of one of the towering trees whose decrepit yet colorful structure bore the heading "Dominic's Pizzeria." Like the rest of its brethren buildings, it was sunken into the hungering sand, its entrance and insides filled and obscured, yet the odd circular delicacy it proudly showcased was still visible. It had been the perfect marker for her purposes.

While Jespar practically drooled at the signage, she put her back to the side of the building and peeked around the corner. She beckoned Jespar to follow her lead but checked his advance beyond the building with a swift kick of her foot.

"Hey!" he barked. "What the hell-"

He had noted the focus on her face even as he was about to rebuke her. As usual, this was the huntress taking over. He looked around him, seeing only walls of sand and corrugated steel between each ruined building and dune. He realized what she must have already known: the road she was looking into was the only path toward their goal.

As he peeked around the corner of the downed pizzeria, he saw it: there it was – the TV spire in all its glory, shining in the mid-afternoon sun. Though it still seemed so far – so out of reach - the path towards it was straight and narrow. Almost claustrophobic. And as he considered this fact, he began to understand Rain-Born's hesitation.

She had told him there was worse to come. He knew she was right; hell, he knew it better than she did, though he didn't let on. He knew there was just something wrong about this road. For one thing, there was no sand.