Arthur slowly opened his eyes, his body still heavy with the fatigue of the previous night. The sky still carried an orange hue of dawn, and the scent of the extinguished campfire mingled with the dry wind that swept across the campsite. Nearby, some classmates were already moving, dismantling tents and organizing supplies.
Alexius sat on a stone, gazing at the horizon with a stern expression while fiddling with his strange metallic device, which reflected the first rays of sunlight. Mia, on the other hand, woke up lively, stretching before helping to gather the utensils.
The morning routine unfolded with a certain discipline: some students tended to the horses, offering water and hay; others coiled ropes and packed the tent cloths. Despite the simplicity, there was a synchronicity in the group, as if everyone knew exactly what had to be done.
When everything was ready, Alexius rose to his feet, drawing the attention of the students:
— The researchers' village isn't far. If we keep our pace, we should arrive in about four hours. Prepare yourselves — today's journey will demand endurance.
The young ones nodded, mounting their horses. Arthur adjusted himself on the saddle, a flicker of unease stirring in his chest as he recalled his sensei's words from the night before.
The ride began in silence. The barren terrain stretched endlessly, almost lifeless, accompanied only by dust and scattered stones. The steady rhythm of hooves striking the ground created a constant, almost hypnotic beat.
Up front, Alexius consulted the device again, its surface displaying symbols and lines that no one but him seemed to understand.
And then, something strange happened.
The wind ceased.
The sound of hooves vanished.
The dust rising from the ground froze, suspended in the air.
Arthur blinked in confusion. Everyone around him was motionless: Mia caught mid-sentence, the horses frozen mid-step, Alexius staring at the horizon. Even Arthur's own heartbeat seemed to falter, as though time itself had been torn from reality.
He could not move his body — only think.
And in that suffocating stillness, a voice echoed within his mind:
— Beware of the ground…
The voice was deep, distant, impossible to identify.
— Ahead, sand worms will emerge and claim lives.
Before he could react, the world began to flow again. The wind stirred, the dust fell, the horses marched on. Arthur gasped, his heart racing wildly.
Without a second thought, he shouted:
— Sensei! Everyone spread out! Sand worms are going to attack!
The group startled, turning their eyes to him. Alexius raised an eyebrow, surprised, but his expression soon hardened. A detail caught his attention: the ground beneath the hooves was trembling ever so slightly.
— Everyone, scatter! — he commanded firmly. — Now!
Though confused, the students obeyed. Horses neighed, reins pulled sharply, and the riders spread apart in different directions.
And then the earth exploded.
Two colossal sand worms burst forth amidst clouds of dust and dirt. Their massive bodies rose like living towers, circular maws lined with countless rows of teeth grinding everything in their path. A guttural roar echoed across the plain, shaking the ground even more.
Students screamed. Some instinctively drew their weapons, while others struggled to rein in their panicked horses.
Arthur swallowed hard. This was no simple academy training.
The beasts lunged forward, bellowing with fury.