The Unmaker

… Dahlia had heard stories of the ever-burning, ever-bright orb of light in the sky: the ‘sun’, as the textbooks called it. It was like a firefly that could single-handedly illuminate the entire world, and you couldn’t run from it no matter what corner of the continent you put yourself in. You could always see it. You could always feel it on your skin; she’d already gotten a brief taste of sunlight for three days down in Alshifa, through the little hole in the ceiling that’d always been damp with cold vapours and icy stalactites, and while she’d been preoccupied for the most part dealing with the Swarm invasion, she felt she’d already learned what sunlight was supposed to be.

But on the surface, ‘sunlight’ wasn’t something anyone could just choose to ignore.

The sky was a cloudless, peerless, endless blue, but the moment Alice dragged her out her room, the wave of heat that smashed into her bare skin immediately made the world around her distort. She reeled back with a hiss, two arms flying over her eyes while two crossed over her chest, trying to shirk back into the shade. Alice blinked and yanked her out again, down a sandy flight of stairs. She’d never felt so drunk without actually being drunk, but through squinted eyes she almost felt as though she were hallucinating impossible things—buildings couldn’t wobble, could they?

[You are experiencing minor heat exhaustion.

[Injecting weak cooling agent.]

Eria stabbed its little stylet tube into the back of her neck, and again it was like someone stabbed an icicle into her head, removing the part of her brain that signalled heat and danger. Her lips felt numb. Her skin felt numb. Soothed by the artificial relaxant, she let her arms drop unwittingly and stopped resisting Alice as she half-stumbled down the stairs—her eyes freezing over the cluster of low sandstone buildings huddled around a giant oasis in front of her.

… Bright.

Too bright.

This is–

“The Sharaji Oasis Town,” Alice chirped, grinning with her head half-turned, her teeth sparkling in the sun. “Come. I’ll show you around first. You must be feeling all humid having been stuck in that dingy room for so long.”

The oasis town’s layout was simple. Unlike Alshifa, the sandstone buildings on opposite ends of the streets were built far and wide from each other; ‘spacious’ was the word that came to mind. There were only about a hundred constructions in the entire town, far less than even a single cardinal district in Alshifa, but the desert beyond the oasis was endless and everyone had the space to spare.

As Alice brought her down to ground level and started dragging her through the main street, she couldn’t help but squint at the strange, curvy, bronze-gilded architecture of all the constructions. Narrow alleyways were few and far between, quiet and serene, but the main street was bustling with activity at this time of day—the circular bazaar running around the giant oasis was a melting pot of stalls, sounds, and aromas that captivated her heightened senses. The air was still dry and oppressive with heat, yes, but merchants with faces weathered by the desert winds presided over their stalls with airs of quiet dignity. They were a dense and diverse lot, some clad in flowing layers of deep indigo or rich saffron, their heads wrapped in striped ghutras; others donned simple, loose-fitting tunics and trousers, their faces sheltered by wide-brimmed palm leaf hats; Alice pointed out everything even remotely interesting to her, and for her part she didn’t feel like stopping the Hasharana.

At the spice merchant’s stall, ladies in long, flowing beige abayas reached for colourful jars of spices. “Saffron and cumin, cinnamon and cardamom,” Alice said, as their fingers left fleeting trails of ‘paprika and turmeric’. Pungent in the air. Sweetly fragrant all the same. At the brassware merchant’s stall, his eyes sharp and his beard tinged with henna, children were clamouring to weigh their chosen accessories on a scale; she didn’t need Alice telling her to know, very well from her time trading in Alshifa’s Bazaar, that they were probably haggling prices. Nearby, a bored potter on a stool displayed his handcrafted wares on a sprawl of rugs—ceramic bowls and vases adorned with intricate blue and white feathered patterns, their glazes shimmering in the intense sunlight.

“I don’t know much about the undertowns, but… hey. I’d assume–” Alice jerked both of them off to the side as the crowd parted momentarily to let a giant humpbacked beast pass, laden with water gourds strapped on its back. The beast’s feet padded heavily against the sand, its long lashes batting aggressively at her as the man riding it waved her off; she gritted her teeth and tensed her muscles, unable to hold in her surprise. “–the bazaars down there aren’t at all like the ones on the surface. That’s a ‘camel’. The man riding it is making rounds around the town to distribute water. Nobody’s a real merchant in the sense they have outsiders buying their goods—every household handles a different task to make sure the oasis town stays afloat all year long.”

Not like Alshifa, then. Even with her head lowered and her four arms clutching her shawl tightly around her chest, she could tell the oasis town was significantly smaller in population. If everybody only looked out for themselves, there was no way they could sustain living out in the middle of… apparently nowhere.

And ‘nowhere’ was the right word.

As Alice yanked her off into a narrow alleyway and out of the circular bazaar street—ducking under canvases and woven palm fronds overhead that cast dappled shadows onto the heat-blasted sandstones—they emerged onto the edge of the town where the dunes were plain and rolling like waves. Everywhere she looked it was just sand, in every conceivable direction. A single gust of wind blew through the town just that moment, and while she braced her face and sputtered a mouthful of sand, the entire landscape changed. The dunes weren’t the same shape, weren’t in the same positions, yet nothing in particular caught her attention.

It was all so… big.

Wide.

Free.

She felt if she reached her hand out now and tried to grab at the slowly rising sun, she’d find it suddenly farther away than she’d thought… and when she did try, almost unconsciously, she nearly stepped off the sandstones and slipped down a dune.

Were it not for Alice yanking her back by the shawl, she would’ve planted her face into the ground for sure. Instead she was pulled along the edge of town, skirting around the storehouse shacks, passing a humongous belltower, before she was dragged back into the centre of town through another narrow alleyway. She realised why they’d taken a little detour on the outskirts when they emerged on a not-so-crowded street—the main street was almost permanently congested with people and foot traffic—and now, face to face with the sparkling emerald oasis stretched out in front of her, she felt her throat rumbling for a drink she really should’ve had with her dumplings from earlier.

She looked nervously around first before checking Alice’s face for permission. It still irked and creeped her out a little that the Hasharana looked exactly like her, but no doubt it was a mutation ability, and she was still very thirsty—so when Alice smiled and tilted her head at the oasis, Dahlia immediately rushed forward to kneel by the water’s edge.

Cupping a handful, she brought her hands to her mouth and drank greedily, loudly. Her extra arms hung limp behind her, resting on the sand. Starvation she was quite used to, but dehydration… not so much. If there was one thing Alshifa wasn’t lack of, it was water from the underground basins their great ancestors had built the undertowns over. Her tongue was numb as she awkwardly swallowed handful after handful, squeezing her eyes shut; the oasis water was clean and pure, almost too pure. It almost didn’t taste like water. She’d been expecting some chunks of sediment or teeth-grating minerals in it, but–

A jolt rippled up her spine and she spun, her extra hands clawing at the air as Alice tried to touch her without warning.

…

She’d moved fast. Very fast. Unknowingly she took two steps back into the oasis, cold water reaching up to her shins, but she heaved and panted and wiped water from her lips as she glared at the Hasharana—and Alice looked utterly nonplussed though she’d almost had her throat clawed out. On the young girl’s identical face was a cordial smile that didn’t carry the meaning behind it, lips stretched to mimic friendliness, red and black irises struggling to make direct contact with hers; she couldn’t help but shudder again with her two normal arms hugging herself.

“... I was just trying to check out your insect arms. Sorry if I frightened you!” Alice said with a cheer, without a hint of worry, as she spread all four arms out and laughed. “You’re… well, my Altered Swarmsteel System refuses to give me any information on what exactly an ‘Assassin Bug’ does. I know you’re some sort of hemiptera, and there are rumours that people who mutate black chitin are bad omens, but… I’m still curious, you know? Can I touch your insect arms for a bit? Just for a bit?”

The corners of her eyes twitched. “N… No.”

Alice tilted her head. “Why not?”

“Because… because they’re mine.”

“You can touch mine if you want. I don’t mind!”

“No, it’s not… that. Wrong. If you get closer, I might… I might lose control again and–”

“Like this?”

It happened in an instant, though she was entirely focused; Alice took a step forward and it was like she’d taken three instead, the Hasharana’s grinning face mere inches from her own.

That did the trick.

Her heart pounded, her spine screamed, she clutched her head with both hands and doubled over as her extra arms shot out, going straight for Alice’s antennae. For the Hasharana’s part, she didn’t panic, didn’t do much of anything; Alice sidestepped casually, and suddenly it was like Dahlia’s whole body was wrapped in invisible wires.

She couldn’t move as Alice hummed a joyous beat, stepping around her to touch her arms.

[Calm down, Dahlia. This is another fit. Endure this, and–]

Vision swirling bright red, she chomped down on the air in front of her and bit… something away. She couldn't see it, but there were invisible threads binding her body. Alice blinked. The Hasharana’s smile was as blank and empty as ever. With one restraint on her head loosened she freed the rest of her limbs in tandem, jerking them forward and out of the threads with sheer brute force—and she felt she would’ve pounced and ripped Alice’s face off were it not for that warm, familiar sensation wrapping around her neck again.

Someone was hugging her.

Many someones.

[... Don’t, Dahlia,] Issam whispered in her left ear, his breath tickling her skin, her burning blood subdued by his voice. [I’m sure she didn’t mean anything bad. She’s curious, that’s all. Don’t fight her over something small like that.]

[I fight Aylee all the time, and I never go for the face,] Ayla whispered. [Maybe one good hit to the stomach. Just that one. But no more than that, okay?]

[She saved you,] Aylee said.

[Don’t bite the hand that feeds,] Amula agreed. [Unless she bites you, of course. Then feel free to kill her and drink her blood.]

[Thweep!] Jerie agreed.

[Besides, you’re still weak and hungry. You’re not like me. Sit the hell down and calm yourself,] Raya mumbled—and that was the final straw.

The boiling, feral blood in her calmed down.

The red tendrils slowly faded from her vision, slithering back behind her eyes. She managed to throw herself off to the side before she could lurch straight into Alice, and that made her tumble, fall, roll sideways through the shallow waters before sitting up straight, gasping—her head wasn’t muddled now. She could hear the winds cutting gentle breeze across the palm trees, flinging trails of sand across the town, and the loud, not at all indistinct chattering of the crowd beginning to form around them; and the hundred or so of them looked as angry as they were wary.

At first, she wondered if they were simply frightened of the way the two of them looked—both sporting four arms and vibrant-coloured eyes that were entirely out of place in a sea of dull greys and beige–but then she saw their furrowed brows and nasty scowls and someone immediately stepped forward from the crowd. It was a middle-aged lady with dark skin, clad in a finely embroidered attire of orange silk. The ruby necklace and brass headchains gave off an air of authority around her, and the two burly men trailing her with mail armour and long saifs sheathed on their belts were more than indication enough; she had the power to turn the entire town against them with a single word.

While Alice chatted amicably with the lady in the foreign tongue she couldn't understand, she took yet another unconscious step backwards, deeper in the oasis. She didn't mean to. She just didn't like hearing the townsfolk shout and seeing them point fingers at her—but her fourth step made the lady snap at her from the shore, unsheathing one of her guard's saifs so she could raise it at Dahlia.

Dahlia froze, her blood running cold in the sweltering heat.

What did she do wrong?

“... The chief says we're not supposed to be standing in the oasis,” Alice translated, shrugging aimlessly as the chief continued shouting at her, face twisted into a horrible, nasty scowl. “She's telling both of us to get out now before we incur the wrath of Madamaron, a local… spirit, or something. If we anger it, misfortune will befall upon the entire town and there'll be no rainfall for the rest of the month.”

That sounded easy enough to comply with. Hurriedly, she skipped out of the oasis and back onto the sand, dragging Alice along with her. Still, the chief didn't lower the blade. The rest of the crowd started shaking their fists, raising their voices, clamouring around the two of them as the chief's guards put the least amount of effort in keeping the peace; Dahlia couldn't help but wince and wilt behind Alice as the chief kept on shouting at her, eyes still unbelievably furious.

“She's saying they've nursed you and kept you safe for long enough, so now they want answers,” Alice translated again, standing between her and the chief. “In her words, ‘one four-arms is more than enough’. They don't particularly like people who eat insects here. They want to know what happened in your undertown that led to you being the sole survivor before they can accept you as a permanent townsfolk.”

Dahlia gulped.

Alice rapid-fired a slew of words that didn't sound like a human could make, and while the chief argued back at first, her guards’ hands on the hilts of their weapons, the townsfolk quickly grew quiet. Loud chattering became hushed murmurs, hushed murmurs became nothing at all—most of the wrinkled elders looked suspicious of her, still, but the younger folk looked… placated. Understanding of their situation. Alice turned back to her a moment longer, shooting her a wide grin.

“I told them to give you one week,” Alice said. “One week for your body to acclimate to the surface, for your mind to calm, and then you’re going to have to spill everything you know to me. They’re worried about more hidden undertowns like yours opening up into ravines. It’s going to be more work for them, after all.”

Dahlia twiddled her claws, cutting her palms in the process. “More… work? What's that mean?”

“Nothing you need to worry about. You must be hungry about now, right? Surely those dumplings weren’t enough for you? Wanna go to my uncle’s tavern? It’s pretty out of the way, so I’m sure we’ll get some peace and quiet there!”

“I’m… I’m fine–”

“Let’s go!”

Alice wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and before she could even reel away, the Hasharana started pulling her through the crowd. Despite her protests, Alice didn’t stop; it wasn’t long after that she stopped resisting as well, because the hundred or so pair of wary eyes trained on her wasn’t reassuring at all. She’d resigned herself to being stared at wherever she went, but if Alice’s uncle's place was going to be less crowded…

She supposed she could trust Alice for just a little bit longer.

… Eria.

[Yes?]

Do you know what, exactly, is Alice’s insect class?

How did she bind me in place like that?

Silence for a while.

[By order of the ranking of Altered Swarmsteel Systems, I am not permitted to disclose that information.]