The desert stretched before them, a rolling sea of sand that caught the twin suns and reflected like molten gold. Each step sank into the grain. Dane's arms flexed rhythmically, the sled behind him creaking under the weight of Zeph and the supplies. Zeph was still slumbering, his wings folded tightly against his sides. Freeloader Dane thought to himself and then let out a small chuckle. Heat shimmered over the sands, distorting the horizon into waves.

  Lyra staggered behind him, her boots scuffing loose sand, as her pale skin reddened with the heat. Her face was flushed, and sweat matted her dirty blond hair to her head. Her breath was ragged.

  Dane stopped. The sled groaned under its own momentum, digging a trench into the sand as he anchored it with the iron spike that hung chained at the side. He moved to shade Lyra with his body, the broad lines of his shoulders blocking one of the twin suns from burning her unprotected skin. And handed her one of the canteens.

  "Sit before you collapse," he said, his voice even, carrying that strange calm that always seemed to surround him.

  She collapsed, gasping, and took the canteen he handed her. She drank greedily, as if trying to empty it all in a single desperate moment.

  "Slowly," he said, voice low but firm. "If you drink it all at once, it'll come back up."

  Lyra blinked at him, chest heaving. "Can't… help it," she said, coughing. "Feels like my blood's boiling."

  He let her catch her breath, silently scanning the horizon. He had no idea where the Beast Tide would be. He only hoped that Zeph would wake up soon. In the bottom corner of his HUD, a timer pulsed faintly at the edge of his vision: [5 Days Remaining].

  He adjusted the sled slightly, ensuring Zeph's wings were tucked and his head cushioned.

  She looked up at him, eyes half-lidded. "I… can't keep up like this," she admitted, voice hoarse. "Are you going to leave me?"

  Dane didn't answer. Instead, he opened up his system screen and logged into the Archon tab. The Earthbound System hummed. They're was a list of everyone who used the system, and right at the end was Lyra Ironwood. He double-tapped her name, pulling up the settings. Everyone was taxed on cosmic energy. However, she was slowing him down, so he temporarily removed that from her, hoping that pushing her up past level 18 would increase their speed.

  Warning: Lyra's foundation may suffer severe consequences due to power leveling.

  He ignored the caution. Lyra needed this. If she didn't level quickly, the desert would claim her before the Beast Tide could even be found.

  "You need to level," he said. "And fast."

  They moved again, the sled cutting a line through the sand as Lyra followed with faltering steps. The heat was merciless. Sweat stung her eyes, and sand clung to her lips. Dane could see the strain in the slight tremor of her arms, the uneven rhythm of her breath. He had already begun running calculations in his head: distances, rations, survival times under the twin suns. At the current pace, they would never make it. Not without a miracle.

  And he intended to give her one.

  The desert shifted before them, a subtle ripple that told him something stirred beneath the sand. Dane froze. He signaled Lyra to do the same. A long, jagged swell moved under the surface, and then a head that was broad and glistening in the sun burst forth. That was the biggest worm he had ever seen. Its eyes were tiny, but its maw stretched wide enough to swallow a horse. Its body undulated, scale ringing against scale, moving with a terrifying rhythm that reverberated through the sand.

  "Get your bow ready," Dane said quietly.

  Lyra's hands shook as she drew her weapon. "I… I can't..."

  "You can," he interrupted. "Trust yourself."

  The worm surged toward them. Lyra loosed an arrow. It whistled wide, burying itself uselessly in the sand. Another arrow flew, and this one grazed the creature's hide. Dane stepped forward, shifting his weight. He plunged his knife into the side of the beast and used the handle of the blade to throw himself on top of the beast. He stabbed everywhere that Huntsman lit up. The sand beneath the worm's body buckled and vibrated as the worm slowed. The worm hissed in pain, thrashing unthinkingly.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  He continued his assault until the creature convulsed and lay still. Dane hopped off the worm and strolled towards Lyra.

  Lyra sank to her knees, breathing hard. "What… was that?" she asked.

  Dane exhaled slowly. "Have you ever trained with that bow?" he said, voice quiet. "I don't think it's right for you."

  Her eyes flickered to his hands, bloody from the fight. "What do you mean? I have trained since I was old enough to crawl to wield every weapon."

  "Do you have any weapon skills? With that much training, something would have come up," he said, crouching beside her. "Do you have mana?"

  She frowned. "I will not use a coward's way of fighting."

  "Magic is not a cowardly way to fight." He said, pausing to gather his thoughts. "What does your honor mean if you are dead. There is a quote from my homeworld: if a fish judged its intelligence by its ability to climb a tree, it would think itself stupid. Lean into your strengths. If you are untalented with the bow, then you need to find something you are good at. I won't always be here to keep you safe."

  Lyra looked down at her feet. She wanted to argue, but decided against it. "I do have some mana."

  Dane's eyes softened. "Then let's see it. You won't survive this desert relying on a bow you can't handle."

  He crossed his legs and sat in the warm sand. "Focus. Feel the energy in your core. Don't force it. It should feel like the relief of a deep breath."

  Lyra swallowed hard, sweat still dripping down her temple. She closed her eyes, inhaled the scorching air, and felt the faint pulse of power in her chest. It was weak, flickering like a candle struggling against the wind, but it was there.

  Dane's voice was calm but firm. "Good. That's it. Now move it, you don't have any mana channels. This part is important. There are shards that you must avoid."

  A tremor of energy answered her thought, raising a small plume of sand that danced above her hand. Lyra's eyes widened. She had always trained with weapons, always measured her strength in muscle and precision, but this… this was different. She was a natural.

  "Again," Dane said, a hint of a smile crossing his face. "And this time, try to hold it longer."

  He guided her through the first exercises.

  Dane's patience never wavered. Step by step, he showed her how to center herself and how to channel the shards of her spirit into stable conduits. Slowly, faint ripples of water shimmered around her fingers. They danced, hesitant but alive.

  By nightfall, the desert cooled slightly, and they set camp near the carcass of the sand worm. Flames from the small fire flickered against the dunes, casting long shadows across the sand. Lyra sat cross-legged, staring at her hands, exhausted.

  "I always thought my path was supposed to be one of steel and loyalty," she said quietly. "But… now I have abandoned both."

  Dane listened. He shared fragments of his own story, his own loss, exile, and the weight of decisions that had cost lives. The firelight danced in their eyes as they spoke, their pasts coming together like two branches of the same river.

  Hours passed. Lyra fell asleep, but nerves chewed through Dane as he lay in the freezing sand. After tomorrow, Lyra would sleep in the sled with Zeph, and he would pull them through the night.

  Dawn came, soft and pale. Dane scanned the horizon once more and saw movement in the sand. The Crucible timer blinked [4 Days Remaining]. Lyra was awake shortly after the first sun rose. She began to manipulate her energy. Small droplets of water condensed in the air on her palms, trembling but visible.

  "Not bad," Dane said, voice low. "You're shaping it."

  "I can feel it," she whispered. "It's… alive."

  He nodded. "Good. That's your affinity. Water. You have to conceptualize a spell, something you can control and repeat."

  They worked through the morning, Dane guiding her to focus on compression, direction, and release. Lyra's first genuine attempt coalesced into a jet of water; she shared the notification with Dane. It was very similar to his own Jetting Geyser spell, but hers was called a water burst.

  "If you choke the nozzle of that spell, the force will multiply," Dane said

  A sudden tremor rolled beneath their boots. Lyra froze, and her heart was hammering.

  "Dane…" she whispered, voice tight.

  He pointed to the sand. "It's time. You're on your own. I'll watch."

  Before she could protest, he kicked her out of the party and disappeared, leaving her in the center of the battlefield. Lyra's stomach dropped. Alone? Against a worm? She swallowed, forcing herself to stand tall.

  A jagged swell broke the sand's surface, followed by a massive, glistening head. Its black eyes, tiny and pitiless, fixed on her. The maw opened wide, a sound like grinding stone echoing across the dunes.

  "Focus on the flow," Dane called, voice calm but firm. She looked, but he was still nowhere to be found.

  Lyra clenched her fists, drawing in a shaky breath. You can do this.

  She held out her palms, feeling the faint pulse of power that had woken the night before. The desert heat made it shimmer visibly, condensation rising from the sand where her energy touched. She whispered the incantation, and a jet of water erupted from her hands, striking the worm's scales. It hissed, recoiling, but the attack was weak, scattered by the sand blowing across its body.

  The worm lunged, slamming a massive tail into the dune. Lyra stumbled, sand clinging to her face. "I...I can't control it!" she yelled, panic rising.

  "Steady! Visualize the channel!" Dane's voice cut across the distance. He stayed still, letting her take the risk.

  Her hands trembled, but she forced herself to center. She drew a deep breath, eyes closed, feeling the pulse of water in her core. Slowly, steadily, she compressed it, shaping a narrow, pressurized stream. This time, the jet struck the worm's side with precision, carving a shallow groove into its thick scales. The creature shrieked.

  Encouraged, Lyra refined her technique. She formed a crescent of water, slicing through the sand to lift and redirect the worm's momentum. Each pulse of energy sent sand spraying, obscuring her movements from the worm's eyes while she repositioned. Her fear began to melt into exhilaration.

  The worm charged again, but Lyra was ready. Water burst into multiple jets, her control improving with each breath. She compressed, guided, and released, chaining attacks into a dance of fluid motion. One powerful surge struck the worm's head, sending it reeling into the sand. It thrashed violently, but Lyra maintained the rhythm. She imagined a nozzle in her mind, her water jet flowing exactly where she intended.

  A final, concentrated attack shot from her hands, striking the worm squarely in the chest. The beast convulsed, sand billowing around it like smoke, then lay still. Lyra's knees buckled, exhaustion washing over her, but she remained upright, staring at her handiwork.

  Dane approached slowly, clapping once. "Impressive. That's all you."

  Lyra swallowed, chest heaving. The HUD in her vision flashed: [XP Gained: 3200 | Level Up: 21]. Her skill list updated: Water Cutter

  "I… I did it," she whispered, disbelief still in her voice.

  "Yes," Dane said, voice low but firm. "And now you know the difference between a weapon and an extension of yourself. You were your own weapon today."

  Lyra's lips curved into a tired but genuine smile. The desert seemed less hostile now, the heat less punishing. She had survived and grown stronger.

  Dane's gaze swept the horizon. "Rest. Tomorrow, we'll see if you can keep this up against the next challenge."

  Lyra nodded, looking down at her hands. Water still lingered in the air around her fingers, trembling but alive. For the first time, she truly understood: this was her power, and it could save her life.

  The system chimmed, and she was offered: Tidecaller.