(This chapter contains unsettling scenes; reader discretion is advised.)

The tent flap fell closed behind Elena, muffling the sounds of the village. Incense thickened the air, and faintly glowing lanterns—each hung with polished stones—cast shifting specs of light across the rugs under her feet.

At the far end, an elder beastwoman sat waiting, her posture regal despite her years. Her wise, steady eyes followed Elena’s every step, as if assessing her in silence before speaking.

The elder’s voice carried warmth as well as authority, low and steady, like wind across the dunes.

“Welcome, Queen of Lornyth. You stand in Solkara, a dimension broken away from reality—a land older than the walls of your kingdom. All who arrive here are brought for a reason. The desert does not reveal its purpose at once; it watches, listens and waits.

You will face its trials. They are battles not of steel but of the heart. Some journeys require strength of spirit rather than strength of body.

Be at ease for now; the sands do not rush, and neither shall I. In time, you will understand.” The elder explained.

Elena shifted in the spot, the elder’s words pressing on her like the desert heat.

“What kind of trials?” Elena asked quietly, her voice unsteady but earnest.

The elder’s eyes softened, though her expression remained unreadable.

“The kind you cannot prepare for,” she replied. “Whether harsh truths or gentle lies, they will show you who you are, and who you may yet become.”

Elena’s gaze drifted over the room, taking in the intricate patterns on the rugs and the faint glimmer of the polished stones. The air smelled of warm sand and herbs, and the strange comfort of light from the lanterns seemed to pulse in time with her own heartbeat.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” she thought to herself.

“You begin by noticing,” the elder replied softly, as if reading her thoughts. “The desert teaches patience. Listen, watch, and feel. Your trial has already begun.”

A quiet curiosity began to replace the weight of uncertainty pressing on Elena’s chest. In this place, the trials did not demand immediate action; they asked only awareness, reflection, and willingness to face what might be hidden within herself.

“You may leave. Stay close to Fenric and walk the grounds if you wish,” the elder said.

Elena nodded. She stepped outside the tent. Beyond lay stretches of desert, golden and endless, the horizon melting into the same pale blue sky. The weight of expectation softened into something she could almost touch.

Fenric waited nearby, his presence a quiet reassurance. He bowed slightly.

“My lady,” he said simply.

No words could capture the strangeness of this land, but his calm steadiness was grounding.

Elena offered a small, grateful smile.

“We have lodging for you to stay while you’re here,” Fenric said. “A guard gave me the address. Though the sun doesn’t set, it is late, and you should rest, as the desert is vast. You may find some paths that will test you in ways I cannot foresee, and you must walk them alone.”

Elena glanced at him, uncertainty flickering across her face.

“Alone?”

“Even with guidance, some truths are only revealed in solitude,” Fenric replied, his tone gentle but firm. “You will not be in danger, as I will not let that happen, but the trials require that you sometimes walk without me. I will return when the desert allows.”

The words sank into Elena. She understood that his calm reassurance wasn't always guaranteed. And that thought, while unsettling, also sparked a quiet determination within her.

***

The next day, Elena awoke with the bright sun beaming through her window.

“My lady, are you awake?” Fenric said, knocking on the door.

“Yes, give me a moment,” Elena replied.

She put on her accessories and adjusted the peak of the scarf in the mirror, which was placed upon the sandstone wall, revealing the small lioness carving in the centre of her circlet.

She opened the door.

“Shall we?” Fenric said.

They walked to the village entrance, where the elder and her entourage were waiting.

“Though we shall never see you again, travel safely and return to your precious young lioness,” the elder said.

They walked through the village arch, and as they looked back, the village began fading. The warm scent of sand and distant herbs lingered, carried by a gentle breeze that seemed to whisper of paths yet unseen.

“Fenric, keep her safe and return in one piece,” a voice echoed before the village disappeared entirely.

Elena inhaled, feeling that vast openness of Solkara stretch before her—inviting, yet strangely watchful. Her fingers brushed the edge of her circlet. She had never felt so far from home, yet she still felt calm. The desert was large, the trials unknown—but she had to face them with Fenric or by herself if the sands wished it so.

Elena and Fenric walked along the winding path that led away from where the village used to be. The sun hung high, casting long, sharp shadows across the dunes and cacti.

Fenric walked a step behind her, giving her space while remaining close enough to be a steady presence. Elena found herself noticing the minor details: the way the light shifted across the dunes, the distant call of desert birds, the whisper of wind against her scarf.

“This place… it feels different from what I imagined,” Elena murmured.

“Solkara is older than most remember,” Fenric replied. “It still teaches through observation, even when it was once neighbours to Lornyth. But not every lesson comes with danger. The trial will continue the moment you choose your path.”

A moment later, she noticed the path splitting ahead. One route appeared smooth, the sand pressed firm underfoot, while the other looked rougher, dotted with rocks and small gullies.

“Which way?” she asked quietly.

“The easier route may comfort the mind, but the sands often test where it matters most. Choose the path that challenges you, and observe what you learn,” Fenric guided.

Elena swallowed and adjusted her scarf. Her pulse quickened, not from fear, but from the anticipation of something unknown. She stepped onto the rougher path, feeling the uneven ground beneath her feet. The wind picked up, as the flatland disappeared, stirring small clouds of sand around her ankles, and for a fleeting moment, Fenric fell behind slightly, his shadow stretching long and thin across the dusty ground of the dunes.

Elena knew she wasn’t alone, yet she was beginning to understand what it meant to walk a path that required her full attention.

As the fresh path stretched before her, she realised the trials were truly unfolding as the sand shifted beneath her feet.

Elena scanned the land as she followed the path. Fenric walked beside her at first, but as the dunes stretched on, a shallow ravine caught Elena’s eye—a delicate depression in the sand where small desert flowers clung stubbornly to life.

“Look,” Elena said softly, pointing to the tiny blooms. “Even here…there’s life.”

Fenric’s eyes followed hers, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

“Solkara rewards those who notice. The smallest details often hold the greatest lessons.” Fenric explained.

Encouraged, Elena stepped carefully towards the ravine, bending slightly to observe a tiny bloom shimmering with dew-like dust. A sudden, subtle shift under her foot made her pause. The ground felt softer than expected, yielding slightly. She tested it with her other foot—it gave way again, deeper this time.

“Fenric…” she called, her voice tinged with caution.

Before he could respond, the sand beneath her gave way more dramatically.

“Fenric!” Elena cried.

Elena’s foot sank past her ankle. She tried to step back, but the earth took hold of her other foot and began pulling her down. Fenric lunged, but the terrain slowed him.

“Stay calm, my lady,” he called, his voice steady. “Don’t struggle, or you will sink further. I’ll reach you.”

It was a scary feeling, but Elena tried to calm her fast-beating heart. She focused on slowing her breathing as she felt it pull her deeper.

As Fenric arrived, Elena quickly reached out towards him. Even though it could be the sands testing her, she didn’t want to be in this situation any longer.

“Think, don’t panic,” Fenric said as he took her hand.

“How would you act in this situation?!” Elena blurted.

The sand grip got tighter, turning her fear into panic.

“I’m sorry! Please let me go!” Elena said quickly.

Fenric’s calm vanished—Elena was truly in danger now.

“Elena, you must calm down. I understand this is scary, but it's the only way I can get you out!” Fenric said sharply.

She tried to slow her breathing once again, but her fear lingered.

“I can’t,” she gasped.

“It’s taking you deeper. What I need you to do is hold your breath; it’s going to take you under quickly. I will get you out, I promise you,” Fenric said, letting her go.

“Fenric,” Elena said, her voice trembling.

Elena trusted him. Despite her fear, she complied with the request as the ground swallowed her.

As Elena opened her eyes, she was no longer in Solkara, but in Lornyth's courtyard. Except the stones wept black water that pooled at her feet. The air was thick and muffled, as if someone had draped the world in heavy cloth.

“Elira?” Elena said suddenly.

The name slipped out before she had realised. A shape stirred at the far end, and Elira stepped into view. At first, her daughter was exactly as Elena remembered, with bright eyes, a faint smile tugging at her lips. But the longer Elena stared, the more wrong she became. Elira’s side bled black, her smile fixed, her eyes refusing to blink.

“Elira…” Elena said cautiously.

The smile widened. Too far. It split her expression like a mask stretched beyond breaking. Her voice came, layered and fractured, echoing as though many voices spoke at once.

“You let me die!” Elena’s chest tightened.

“No… I never wanted—”

“You arranged it all!” Elira said louder, more distorted.

Her eyes hollowed into black pits, and her voice grew more distant. The courtyard warped with her. The wall bent inward, shadows spilling from the cracks. Elira’s body convulsed, limbs twitching in unnatural positions as if she were overtaken by something.

“You should have caught my hand as it fell!” it said.

Her head snapped sideways, the smile unbroken, as she began dragging her feet toward Elena.

“Elira…please!” Elena cried, tears blurring her vision.

Her face warped further. Elena stumbled back as her feet began to sink once more. Sand rapidly poured across the courtyard, pushing Elira back and swallowing up the black pools, creeping higher up her legs. Elira lunged, laughing maniacally, the sound cutting through the air like splintered glass. It got closer, and the shadow started shifting away from Elira's face, preparing to reveal her new features, but the sand flowed in fast, pulling Elena deeper, smoothing the sight of Elira’s broken form. The sand claimed her once more.

Then Elena woke, but nothing escaped her throat. Stone walls caved over her, and a bright firelight reflected orange across them. Her body couldn’t stop trembling as the nightmare faded away from her mind.

Fenric was at her side in an instant, supporting her from behind.
“You’re safe. It was only a dream,” he said, his voice steady, meant to anchor her.

But the feelings lingered like the echo of a scream she could no longer hear.

“I don’t remember what was so terrifying, but all I know is sand pulled me under as if rescuing me from something,” Elena whispered, her voice shaking.

Fenric studied her carefully, his expression unreadable in the firelight. “The desert trials can reach into places deeper than memory. Dreams here are not only dreams. They test, they reveal, and sometimes they protect.”

Elena pressed her hands together to steady them, the memory already slipping like grains between her fingers. She couldn’t recall what she had seen, only the weight of something she never wanted to face again.

“The sands saved you,” Fenric affirmed gently. “But they also showed you something you must carry forward. Even fear can be a lesson.”

Elena drew in a slow, shaky breath. The trembling began to ease as his words sank in. Whatever had happened — whatever had nearly been revealed—she knew the desert had chosen not to let her see it fully. And part of her was grateful.

***

Days slipped by in Solkara, marked not by sunrise or sunset but by the shifting light across the dunes. Each trial that followed seemed less like punishment and more like quiet instruction.

She learnt to face the echoes of her own doubts and to walk through mirages without chasing them. The desert demanded patience, awareness, and trust in herself, and slowly, she began to offer it.

She woke beneath a sky of mirrored glass. Every step she took reflected another version of herself: angry, afraid, uncertain. Only when she faced them without turning away did the mirrors crack and fall back into the sand.

Another time, she crossed a canyon where whispers rode the wind—voices of her council, her people, her husband. They accused, pleaded, and praised in equal measure until the noise became unbearable.

“You rushed into your marriage!” the council shouted.

“Please, goddess, return my daughter!” Eldric pleaded.

“Why did it have to be the princess?” a townsman sighed.

She silenced them not by shouting back, but by calming herself; only then did the voices fade, echoing the doubts that had once been her own.

On the third trial, she wandered into stillness so deep she feared she had gone deaf. Then, from the silence, came the sound of her daughter’s laughter, soft, clearing, forgiving.

“Please don’t blame yourself, Mother. My death may have been sudden, but it was never yours or anyone's fault but my own for not being careful in the treacherous rain that day.”

Elira's words echoed in her mind and carried Elena onward through the emptiness.

Fenric appeared and disappeared as the days blurred together, guiding her when the path demanded reason and vanishing when it required faith. Slowly, the desert’s cruelty began to feel like instruction, its heat, a kind embrace. Each lesson stripped away another layer of emotion until she moved with quiet confidence, no longer resisting what the sands chose to reveal to her.

But Solkara wasn’t finished with her.

One afternoon, the wind rose without warning. The ground trembled, and the dunes erupted into a spiralling storm. Sand whipped through the air, turning the sky gold and white.