The first wave of fire swept across the sand dunes like a hungry beast, roaring and crackling as the night sky burned crimson—a fitting omen for Ka’shara’s treachery. Sael Araen, breathless and bloodied, leaned against the jagged remains of a shattered starship hull, her twin moonsilk braids whipping against her sun-kissed skin in the searing desert winds. The gilded metal strips of her ceremonial armor, looping delicately around her waist and chest, were hot to the touch, reflecting the flickering glow of the flames eating away at the wooden outpost behind her. The broad golden cuff on her arm felt heavier now, as if the weight of betrayal had seeped into the very metal. She squinted against the heat haze, staring at the figure advancing toward her through the storm of sand and embers.
Ka’shara was nothing if not theatrical. Draped in flowing crimson robes embroidered with threads of gleaming silver, she looked every inch the usurper queen she had claimed to be. Her long, ink-black hair spilled like a dark waterfall down her shoulders, framing a face equal parts regal and venomous—a cobra poised to strike. The massive twin moons of Zeyhaar loomed overhead, casting an otherworldly white luminescence over the carnage, painting shadows across the endless amber dunes. Behind her, looming figures of the desert clans, their faces hidden behind bone masks, stood as silent sentinels against the encroaching dark.
“You should have left the Sands of K’Tharith and returned to your temple when you had the chance,” Ka’shara hissed, her voice smooth as oil but laced with an edge sharp enough to draw blood. “Your defiance only drags out the inevitable, Sael. Surrender the Keystone, and I may grant your people mercy.”
Sael coughed, tasting blood and sand in her throat, and tilted her face defiantly toward Ka’shara. Her bronze skin glimmered in the firelight, slick with sweat and streaked from the strenuous battle that had brought her here. Her metal bikini-style armor, pieced together with intricate gold filigree and gemstones glowing faintly with some ancient power, was unmistakably defiant. It marked her not as a warrior of blood, but of spirit—a Keeper of the Old Ways. Her piercing jade-green eyes locked with Ka’shara’s, daring her to come closer.
“Your mercy is a lie, Ka’shara,” Sael spat, each syllable like tempered steel. “You poisoned the Council, slaughtered the acolytes, and burned the emerald spires of Shareth to the ground. There is no mercy for tyrants. If I die here with the Keystone, so be it. Zeyhaar will never bow to you.”
For a moment, there was silence. The kind of silence that usually precedes the breaking of storms and hearts. Then Ka’shara smiled—a cold, predatory thing. “You were always too noble for your own good, little Keeper.” With a subtle motion of her hand, the bone-masked warriors behind her raised their energy lances, each tip glowing ominously with starfire.
Sael’s muscles burned as she shifted into a defensive crouch, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her ancient blade. The weapon, forged centuries ago from pure etherium, shimmered white-hot in defiance of the impending doom. Her breathing slowed as she attuned herself to the hum of the Keystone strapped to her hip—a crystalline shard pulsing with the remnants of a dying star’s energy. She could feel it resonate with her heart’s rhythm, its power flickering as if waiting for her command. For a heartbeat, she closed her eyes, feeling the sands beneath her bare feet shift, grounding her in this moment of desperate clarity.
Then, as if spurred by the silent cry of the desert moon itself, Sael sprang forward, blade flashing in the firelight. Her motion was fluid, like the drifting sands themselves. She caught Ka’shara’s warriors off-guard, her blade carving arcs of light through their ranks. Sparks erupted as energy lances clashed with her etherium weapon, sending vibrations shooting up Sael’s arm. Every step was laborious—Ka’shara’s warriors were well-trained, and Sael, though agile and determined, was running on the last reserves of her strength.
“Keeper!” a voice boomed from the dunes behind her. Sael turned just in time to see Fen Arrik, her estranged companion-turned-bounty-hunter, charging into the fray astride a dune-lizard the size of a starship pod. His patched combat leathers glinted in the firelight, and his pistols barked brightly in the night as he tore through the ranks of Ka’shara’s warriors with reckless abandon.
“About time!” Sael called over her shoulder, her voice tight with both relief and irritation. “I thought you’d finally abandoned me.”
Fen smirked, vaulting from his mount and landing with a flourish next to her. “And miss all the fun? Not a chance. Besides,” he added, his tone shifting to something softer, “you owe me a drink. And your life.”
They stood back-to-back as the remaining warriors closed in, their breathing ragged but their resolve unshaken. Ka’shara watched from a distance, her smile fading into a scowl as she raised her hand to unleash a volley of dark energy that rippled toward them like a tidal wave.
“Hold on,” Fen said, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a small device gleaming with blue energy. “If this works, we’ll have five seconds to get clear.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Sael asked, slashing through another opponent.
“Then we’re probably vaporized, but hey, at least we go out with style,” Fen quipped, pressing the device’s activation switch.
Suddenly, a pulse of blinding energy erupted around them, knocking both warriors and Ka’shara herself off balance. The sands beneath their feet began to quake, shifting as if the desert had come alive. A distant, thunderous roar echoed across the moonlit dunes, and Sael felt the Keystone vibrate wildly at her side.
“What have you done?” Ka’shara screamed, her voice dripping with fury.
Fen grinned, grabbing Sael’s arm. “Run, Keeper! It’s waking up!”
As they sprinted into the desert’s endless expanse, the ground split beneath them, revealing an ancient, labyrinthine city buried for millennia beneath the amber sands—a city that glimmered with energy far older and more powerful than anything Ka’shara could have imagined. And behind them, the roar grew louder as countless golden lights flickered to life, each one marking the awakening of something vast, something alive.
The Mirage of Ka’shara had begun to crumble, and Sael Araen, Keeper of the Old Ways, was no longer running from her destiny. She was running straight into it.
The Source…check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Unleash Your Inner Princess with a Gold Bikini Cosplay | iNthaStyle.com
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