The pack struck like a storm.
Claws raked across Kanan's shoulder, hot pain lancing through his arm as he slammed the stick into the beast's side. It yelped but didn't falter, jaws snapping again. He barely rolled free, sand biting into his wounds.
Nilo screamed as another creature bowled him over. Its slobber dripped black onto his face, teeth snapping an inch from his throat. He shoved with everything he had, arms trembling, but the thing was too heavy.
"Hold!" the old man barked, voice cutting through the chaos.
The girl was already moving. Silent, precise. She slid in low, blade flashing as it pierced the beast's underbelly. It screeched, convulsed, and slumped off Nilo. He gasped for air, scrambling back, heart slamming in his chest.
"Get up!" Kanan shouted, swinging wildly. His stick splintered against another beast's jaw. The crack stunned it, but only for a breath.
Nilo staggered upright, blood running down his arm where claws had caught him. His hands shook, but he clenched his fists anyway. "I'm not going down here."
They began moving together, clumsy at first, desperate. Kanan drew their attention, shouting, feinting strikes. The girl darted in, each motion clean and surgical. And Nilo, wild-eyed but stubborn, found openings to land blows, small but enough to keep the pack unbalanced.
Still, the beasts were relentless. One latched onto Kanan's leg, teeth digging deep. He roared, smashing his stick down again and again until the thing finally released with a yelp. Blood poured from his calf, hot and slick.
"They won't stop!" Kanan gasped, dragging himself back.
The old man finally rose, kettle still in hand. He traced a circle into the sand with its spout, muttering words too old for the boys to understand. The tea hissed as it touched the earth, and the air thickened, hot, strange, shimmering.
The largest beast slowed mid-leap, eyes flickering with unease. Its pack faltered, growls wavering, the scent of whatever the old man conjured pressing heavy on them.
"Now!" he snapped. "Strike as one!"
And for the first time, they did. Kanan's stick cracked down, Nilo drove his shoulder into the beast's ribs, and the girl's blade found the heart. The creature collapsed, twitching once before falling still.
The pack hesitated. Then, with whines sharp as broken glass, they scattered back into the desert, swallowed by the dunes.
Silence. Just the hiss of cooling blood on hot sand.
Kanan collapsed to one knee, panting, his leg burning. Nilo slumped beside him, chest heaving. The girl stood tall, blade still dripping, though her shoulders sagged with exhaustion.
The old man sighed, kneeling back by the kettle as though nothing had happened. "So," he said softly, pouring what little tea remained into a cup. "You've had your first taste of what awaits you beyond these sands."
He passed the steaming drink to Kanan, who stared at it with trembling hands.
"What was that?" Nilo rasped.
The old man's eyes flicked to the girl, then back to the boys. "The desert reminding you that hunger never sleeps. And that strength… means nothing without trust."
The desert was quiet again, but not dead quiet.
From the dunes, faint shapes lingered. Shadows shifting. Eyes glinting in the half-light. The beasts hadn't gone far. They were waiting. Watching.
Kanan tried to rise but his leg buckled, blood pouring down his shin into the sand. He bit back a scream. "I… I can't move."
Nilo's face twisted, panic tightening his jaw. "We can't fight them again. Not like this. We'll die."
The girl didn't speak, only planted herself between them and the dunes, blade raised though her arms trembled.
The old man finally stood, kettle still in hand. His voice, though low, carried with a calm weight. "Sit. All of you."
"We can't just -" Nilo started.
"Sit," the old man repeated, sharper this time. And strangely, they obeyed.
He crouched beside Kanan's torn leg, kettle in one hand, the other hovering just above the wound. The sand around them seemed to still, the air dense and buzzing.
The old man closed his eyes.
From his palm, faint light bled, warm, golden, like fireflies pressed into flesh. The wound hissed, blood slowing, the torn skin knitting together as if time itself bent. Kanan gasped, a sound between shock and relief, as the rot was pulled out and pain dulled, then ebbed away entirely.
When the glow faded, only a thin scar remained.
Kanan stared, wide-eyed. "What… what was that?"
The old man sat back, weary but composed. "That was Oorja. The same force that keeps the stars burning. That drives rivers through stone. The pulse that lives in every living thing."
Nilo swallowed hard. "And you can just… control it?"
"No one controls Oorja," the old man said, pouring tea calmly into the sand. "You listen to it. Respect it. Let it move through you. Then sometimes it listens back."
The beasts in the distance let out low whines, their eyes dimming. One by one, they slunk away into the endless dunes, as if some unseen hand had turned them back.
The silence that followed felt different, heavier, but safe.
The girl lowered her blade at last. Kanan touched his leg again, disbelieving. "If you hadn't been here…"
The old man gave a faint smile, though his eyes were tired. "The desert tests those who wander it. Tonight, it tested if you could bleed together without breaking apart."
He glanced toward the horizon, where the dunes rippled under moonlight. "And it will not be the last test."
[To Be Continued...]