With the Beast Tide on the horizon, Dane began to pull the sled with renewed vigor. Lyra and Zeph looked at each other in surprise but said nothing. He had been running on fumes for the last seventy-two hours, give or take. The System even decided to make it official, hitting him with a new status effect: Exhaustion. He received a 50 percent debuff to his physical stats, but the worst part was his 90 percent drain on mental ones.

  Zeph and Lyra were speaking in the sled as he pulled, but it sounded like incoherent mumbles. A lot like the Charlie Brown parents. That's a stray thought that he hadn't had for a while. I would kill for some cartoons. A stupid grin cracked on Dane's face, and he was barely pulled out of his sweet daydreams of Cats chasing mice and young kids who could control all four elements.

  A hard slap rattled him, and Dane brushed his palm lightly on the red mark blooming on his face. He looked down, and he had almost pulled the sled into the cavernous maw of a rust colored sand worm. Despite how close they were to their goal, they decided to rest and continue when they felt better.

  Dane tossed and turned in the sand; it was surprisingly comfortable. The howling winds covered him with a blanket of the golden sea that made him feel cozy while also a little cooler, keeping the broiling sun off him.

  By the time he drifted off, it only felt like a moment before he was disturbed. The twin suns took about 20 hours to fall, and night only lasted for a small sliver of the 24-hour cycle. Still, it was always noticeable when it finally became dark. Dane inhaled sharply as if he were late for school. His eyes shot open. A flying whale the size of a bus was overhead, floating on tiny hummingbird wings. It had bloated out the setting suns and was gracefully landing. Well, it would have been graceful if it hadn't been coming straight for them.

  Dane scrambled to the side and narrowly avoided the landing beast. He was still debating whether the whale was real or not. That debate was quickly settled by a skwalking man bird that was now face down in the sand with a sled on top of him.

  Zeph spat out a beakful of grit and twisted his neck with a pained click. "Of all the beasts in all the deserts," he croaked, "you had to stop under a sky grazer."

  Dane blinked. "That's what that is? I thought I was hallucinating."

  "Not this time," Zeph said, pushing the sled with Lyra's help.

  "Do you need a lift?" A beautiful fox woman said, her voice far too bright for someone he remembered as pure spite and fire. If Dane didn't have the Huntsman skill, which identified the woman as Sara of the Earthbound System, he would've never guessed this smiling creature was the same revenge-driven storm they left behind at the bandit camp.

  The trio climbed onto the colossal back of the sky grazer after salvaging what they could from the crushed sled.

  Dane's brain disagreed with his eyes about whether they were moving or not, and he lay down while his world began to spin. He checked his status screen to see if he had exhaustion to thank for his vertigo. Oddly, the exhaustion was replaced with a buff that said well-rested. No, this was all him. Dane was a C rank, and he would live for thousands of years. He was the chosen of the Dragon god and the holder of not one legacy but three. Yet, it seemed that his carsickness, in this case whale sickness, would follow him through all of the changes.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  It was oddly calming to know that no matter how inhuman he felt, he would have something that survived.

  Dane closed his eyes, trying to focus on the steady rise and fall of the sky grazer's back beneath him. The motion was rhythmic, almost soothing. Almost.

  Zeph and Sara were already deep in their own world, laughing, voices low, standing a little closer than friends should. The sharp edges in her tone were gone, replaced by something warm and silky like honey in steaming tea.

  Lyra hesitated for a long moment before sitting beside him. The creature's leathery hide pulsed faintly with bioluminescent veins, painting her in soft teal light that contrasted the amber hues of the setting suns. "You look like you're about to fall apart," she said gently.

  "I've been worse." His voice came out hoarse.

  She smiled and reached out, resting a gentle hand against his back. Her fingers were cool, but her palms felt warm. The feeling of her touch crept under his skin, and for a fleeting second, he let himself sink into it.

  Amelia's face surfaced in his mind: the way she smiled when she pretended not to worry, the stubborn fire in her eyes. He wondered what she'd think if she saw him like this, half-dead, half-dreaming on the back of a flying whale, with another woman comforting him.

  He shifted slightly, breaking the contact. "Thanks," he murmured. "I'm fine."

  Lyra studied him for a moment but didn't push. The air between them settled into something different.

  The sky grazer let out a deep, echoing hum, and a sudden vibration rippled through its body. Zeph straightened, with his eyes narrowing. "We're here."

  Dane blinked against the glare as the horizon became speckled with firelight. A vast camp sprawled below, tents of hide and bone, pyres burning in ritual lines, the sound of drums rolling like thunder over the sand. The scent of smoke and beast musk hit him a heartbeat later.

  Dane stumbled off the sky grazer, legs trembling as if the desert itself were rolling beneath him. The bioluminescent veins on the creature's armored skin flickered faintly beneath his hands, but they did little to steady his vertigo. He blinked, trying to ground himself, and for a moment, the sand seemed to shift like water under his feet.

  From the edge of the camp, a tall, imposing figure moved forward. Draka Ashfang. Her scales glimmered faintly under the firelight, the ridges along her spine catching every flicker of flame. She walked with measured steps.

  "Zeph," she said, voice smooth but firm, carrying over the crackle of distant pyres. "I hadn't expected your return. Not after your pretend oath."

  Zeph bowed his head slightly, shoulders squared. His posture was like that of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "It seemed the honorable path called for… other choices."

  Draka's gaze flicked toward Dane. The exhaustion etched in his face, the faint scorch of wind on his skin, even the traces of man-made items clinging to him, she took careful note of everything.

  "You've been using tools you shouldn't," she said slowly, stepping closer. Her claws scraped the sand in a smooth rhythm. "And your mana channels…" Her eyes narrowed. "Do you even comprehend how much work you destroyed?"

  Dane shifted his weight, attempting a grin, though it faltered as the world still tilted beneath him. "I… had to," he murmured, voice rough from sand and fatigue.

  Zeph stepped slightly forward, but kept his tone calm, almost deferential. "He is not one of the Beast Tide; you are too harsh to judge him. Dane's path is one of strength. I have seen with my own eyes how he takes what is useful and blends it into his own style."

  Draka's gaze softened briefly at the subtle defense, a flicker of pride hidden behind her stern expression. She turned back to Dane and touched a scaly finger to his stomach. He could feel her mana; it was just a slight prod, but he knew that he felt something inside of him that resonated with her. "You've found your own path… and yet, you make it difficult for me to teach you."

  Dane swayed slightly, gripping the edge of a nearby tent post for support. "I've been… surviving," he admitted.

  Her lips quirked into the faintest hint of a smile, just enough to betray her approval without giving away her amusement. "Surviving, yes. But you will learn, Dane. That is why you are here. Come. Let's see if we can fix what you broke."

  With a careful step, Dane followed her as she led the way into the heart of the camp.