Watcher of Fate

Elara’s eyelids felt like they weighed a ton as she struggled to open them. The world around her was a blur at first, a haze of pale colors and distant sounds. Gradually, her senses sharpened, and the blurry shapes came into focus. She was lying on her back in a makeshift litter, the gentle rocking motion suggesting a horse was pulling it. The sky above stretched out in a deep twilight hue, and the cool desert air brushed against her skin, a stark contrast to the throbbing heat in her limbs and the lingering fog in her mind.

“Oh, look who’s finally decided to rejoin the living!” Quill's familiar voice cut through her disorientation, a blend of mockery and concern. “About time, sleepyhead. I was beginning to think you were auditioning for a career as a boulder. I’ve seen sloths move faster than you came around.”

Elara groaned, rubbing her temples as she tried to sit up, the pounding in her head echoing with every beat of her heart. She glanced around, noticing the horse plodding ahead of her, pulling the litter. “Thanks, Quill,” she muttered. “I knew I could count on you for a warm welcome.”

“Warm? Oh, I’d say more like scorching,” Quill continued his tone light but his gaze sharp, watching her closely. “I mean, I get it, you’re tired, burning all that mana and whatnot, but collapsing in the desert after pulling off the magical equivalent of an angry Tarrasque impersonation? You’re lucky I’m too loyal to leave you here for the vultures.” Despite his teasing, there was an unmistakable edge of worry beneath his words, a tension that only seemed to relax when he saw her eyes focus on him.

Elara managed a weak smile, her body still feeling like it had been wrung dry of every drop of energy. “I’m up now. Promise I won’t try to become desert decor again anytime soon.”

Before Quill could retort, Lily came rushing over. Her brows furrowed with a mix of frustration and relief. “Elara, that was... reckless,” she scolded, though her voice softened slightly as she walked beside the litter. “Going for an illusion that large would’ve been dangerous even on a good day, but while weakened by the whole mana core process? That was just deadly dumb.”

Elara leaned back on her hands, still feeling the ache of overexertion in every muscle. “But it was super cool, wasn’t it?” she countered, a slight grin tugging at her lips despite her exhaustion.

Lily’s stern expression broke slightly, a begrudging smile forming. “I won’t deny that,” she admitted, “but you nearly dropped the whole thing before it could do any good. I had to grab the illusion and stabilize it before it crumbled too much. I managed to hold it up just long enough to finish the job of scaring the bandits away. They’re still probably running for the hills.”

Elara laughed weakly, a bit of pride creeping into her voice. “Well, at least it wasn’t all for nothing.”

She could see Lily’s lips curl into a full smile now, the worry in her eyes giving way to a softer expression. “No, it wasn’t. But next time, let’s try not to take your last breath for the sake of being dramatic, alright?”

Elara chuckled, glancing at the desert stretching out around them. “Fair point. I guess I should save the Tarrasque stunts for when I have a bit more juice left.”

She shifted slightly in the litter, the gentle sway of the horse’s gait beneath her. “So… I’m guessing we won then? And we’re not prisoners of the bandits?”

Lily nodded, walking alongside the litter, but Elara noticed a slight tension in her posture, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. “We won, yes,” Lily began carefully, “but you’re not quite right about the second part. We’re currently guests of the Ataruk tribe,” she explained, though there was an edge to her voice. “They’re a nomadic group of Lamia and humans who work together to survive out here. They were defending the caravan and invited us back to their settlement to rest and recover.”

Elara caught the subtle shift in Lily’s tone, the way her words seemed to dance around something unsaid. She raised an eyebrow, probing gently, “Guests, huh? And we’re sure we had a choice in that invitation?”

Lily’s lips thinned into a wry smile. “Not exactly,” she admitted, her gaze flicking away momentarily to the horizon as if searching for the right words. “It was more like… they told us they were taking us back with them. Not that we could say no in the state you were in. They were worried about you, but also,” she hesitated, her tails twitching slightly, “they wanted to keep an eye on us. Make sure we weren’t more trouble than we’re worth.”

There was a glimmer of guardedness in Lily’s eyes, which Elara recognized all too well. She could sense the kitsune’s discomfort with the lack of choice they’d been given, the underlying worry that came with being in a new and uncertain situation. Still, there was a hint of resignation, as if Lily had already weighed the risks and decided they weren’t too severe.

“But I think it’ll be fine in the long run,” Lily firmly continued. “They don’t seem hostile at least not after we helped them fend off those bandits. It’s just... they’re cautious, and out here, I can’t say I blame them.”

Before Elara could respond, Quill cut in with his usual flair, attempting to lighten the mood. “Oh, you’ll never guess where their settlement is,” he teased, his feathers ruffling excitedly.

Elara squinted at him, her curiosity piqued. “Where? In a hidden oasis? In some ancient desert ruin?”

“Ha! Nope!” Quill crowed, his eyes bright with mischief. “It’s on the back of a massive desert tortoise. Not just any tortoise, mind you, a behemoth that’s probably older than this desert itself!”

Elara blinked, trying to process the image. “You’re telling me their whole settlement is on the back of a… giant tortoise?”

“You got it, sleepyhead,” Quill confirmed, his tone filled with amusement. “A Horizonback tortoise, to be exact. The tribe calls it Olorun, and it’s been their moving home for generations. Big enough to carry a small city on its back and slow enough not even to notice.”

Lily nodded, her expression relaxing slightly as she shifted back into storyteller mode, a small smile tugging at her lips. “The Ataruk tribe has quite a unique way of life. Their settlement holds around two hundred people, maybe more, all living atop this ancient creature. The tortoise itself is like a living island in the desert, its back is wide and flat, covered in sand and rock, and they’ve built everything from tents to sturdy huts on top of it. There are even small gardens, where some hardy desert plants grow.”

Elara tried to picture it: a massive tortoise with a small settlement on its back, slowly moving across the desert, an entire community living and thriving atop a living, breathing mountain. “That’s… incredible,” she murmured, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as she imagined the sight.

Lily’s smile softened, the earlier tension easing from her shoulders. “They say, we will be there soon, it's just about the only thing they will talk to us about. It seems they are quite proud of Olorun.”

Elara settled back into the litter, a sense of eager anticipation building. Despite the lingering fatigue, the idea of seeing such a unique and wondrous place filled her with a renewed sense of energy. “I can’t wait to see it,” she said, her voice soft but filled with excitement.

Quill fluttered closer, perching on the edge of the litter. “I can't wait to see it also. But for now, rest a bit more, sleepyhead. You’ll want to be fully awake when we arrive.”

Elara nodded, letting her eyes close for just a moment, the rhythmic sway of the litter lulling her into a light doze as they continued their journey toward the extraordinary home of the Ataruk tribe, where their “invitation” would unfold into whatever lay ahead.

---

Elara stirred awake as the gentle rhythm of the litter’s travel suddenly shifted. The steady sway she had grown accustomed to gave way to a new, slower motion, accompanied by a subtle but noticeable change in the ground beneath her. It felt as though they were no longer moving on sand but on something more solid, more immense.

She blinked her eyes open, squinting against the bright light of the desert sun. As her vision adjusted, the sight that met her eyes was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Towering before them was a colossal tortoise, its shell as wide as a small village square, stretching out farther than the eye could easily see.

Atop this immense creature was an even more astonishing sight: a sprawling structure made of wood and mud bricks. This architectural marvel looked as if it had grown organically over countless years. The structure seemed to cover nearly the entirety of the tortoise’s back. What might have started as a scattering of simple huts and small buildings had, over time, expanded, merging into a chaotic, multi-leveled city. Wooden beams jutted out at odd angles, supporting makeshift balconies and walkways, while walls of mud brick and thatch leaned into one another, creating a patchwork of homes and market stalls that piled upon each other like a haphazardly stacked pile of children's blocks.

The whole settlement was alive with activity. Vines and hardy desert plants climbed the sides of the structures, creeping over the rooftops and adding splashes of green to the earthy tones of wood and clay. It was as if the buildings themselves were an extension of the tortoise’s shell, a living city moving slowly through the sands.

Elara could barely comprehend the scale of it all. The tortoise’s legs moved with the slow, deliberate power of ancient trees bending in the wind, each step causing a tremor reverberating through the ground. As they approached, several strong members of the Ataruk tribe carefully lifted the litter, guiding them toward a series of ramps and pulleys ingeniously designed to hoist people and goods up into the settlement.

She felt the ascent as they were gradually pulled higher, the ground beneath them giving way to the makeshift streets and pathways crisscrossing the tortoise’s back like a web. The air grew cooler as they rose, the sun’s heat partially blocked by the shadows of the buildings towering above. The ramps wound around the edges of the massive shell, leading them deeper into the heart of the settlement.

Once they reached the top, Elara and Lily were gently set down, and the tribe members began to lead them through the maze-like pathways. The streets were narrow and twisting, lined with market stalls selling various goods, everything from dried fruits and spices to handcrafted jewelry. The air was filled with the sounds of daily life: the laughter of children playing, the bartering of merchants, and the soft murmur of conversations drifting from open windows. Despite the lively atmosphere, Elara could feel the curious and cautious glances being thrown their way by the residents.

Elara’s head swiveled as she tried to take in her surroundings, her curiosity growing with every turn they made. The pathways seemed to twist and turn like a serpent’s coils, doubling back on themselves or leading into tight alleys that unexpectedly opened into sunlit courtyards. The buildings loomed overhead, their upper stories leaning so closely together that they created a canopy of interwoven wooden beams and cloth banners, casting long shadows over the bustling streets below. It was a confusing, disorienting place, and the further they were led, the more Elara felt the urge to ask.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked her tone a mix of curiosity and unease. But the tribe members leading them offered no answer. Their expressions were neutral, and their focus was solely on guiding them through the maze of pathways.

She exchanged a glance with Lily, who shrugged slightly, clearly as in the dark as she was. The kitsune seemed to be taking it in stride, but Elara could see the subtle tension in her posture, a readiness to act if the situation turned sour. Elara’s senses were on high alert, her eyes darting to every shadowed corner and every figure that passed by them. They were guests, but the uncertainty of their destination made her uneasy.

Their guides led them around another tight corner, and suddenly, the narrow path opened into a wide room. The change was jarring as if they had stepped into another world entirely. The space was vast, larger than any chamber Elara had expected to find on the back of a moving tortoise. Richly colored textiles draped the stone and wooden walls, deep reds, golds, and indigos embroidered with intricate patterns of desert flowers and celestial motifs. The tapestries hung in layers, overlapping like the petals of a blooming flower, creating an illusion of depth and warmth that filled the room with a sense of elegance and grandeur.

The floor was covered in thick woven rugs, each one more elaborate than the last, their colors vibrant against the muted sand-colored stone beneath. Soft cushions were scattered around, inviting visitors to sit, while large brass braziers along the walls emitted a soft, golden glow, casting delicate patterns of light and shadow that seemed to dance with the slightest breeze.

As they stepped further into the room, three figures entered behind them, one of the [Human Traders] from the caravan and two of the [Lamia Guards] who had fought bravely in the battle. The trio moved with purpose, their heads bowed slightly, their hands held together over their hearts in a gesture of respect and submission.

Elara followed their gaze to the room's far end, where a raised platform sat, draped in thick fabrics and soft cushions. There, atop the platform, was a creature unlike any Elara, had ever seen in person but whose description she had read about in the old tomes back in Barrowbridge. Her breath caught in her throat. A lion’s body, powerful and sleek, formed the base, but instead of a beast’s head, there was a woman's face, framed by a mane of dark, curling hair adorned with gold beads and delicate chains that glinted in the soft light. Her eyes, a sharp amber that seemed almost to glow, locked onto them with an intensity that felt like they were peeling back layers to see their very souls.

Elara’s mind raced back to the dusty pages of the old books she had devoured in her youth. She remembered reading tales of such beings, guardians of ancient knowledge, keepers of secrets, and riddle-weavers. Creatures of both wisdom and power, whose favor could lead to great fortune or, if offended, a swift and merciless end. A sphinx. She was almost certain of it. The descriptions from those faded books were unmistakable: a creature with the body of a lion and the head of a wise and regal woman, eyes filled with the weight of centuries.

Seeing their gesture of respect, Lily quickly followed suit, mimicking the bow and hand placement, a sign of acknowledgment to the imposing figure. Elara, catching on, did the same, lowering her head and placing her hands over her heart, hoping not to offend. Her mind raced with questions, but she forced herself to remain composed, watching closely and taking mental notes of every detail, every movement.

The [Human Trader] stepped forward, his voice steady but laced with the weight of their recent ordeal. “Khan Khareema,” he began, his tone reverent, “we come bearing news. The Kethari Raiders attacked and nearly ended the caravan. Without the aid of these two”, he gestured to Lily and Elara, “we might not have made it here at all.”

Elara could feel the sphinx's gaze shift to her and Lily, those piercing amber eyes sizing them up, as if measuring their worth. The intensity of Khareema’s gaze was nearly overwhelming. Elara kept her own eyes respectfully lowered, her heart thumping steadily in her chest as she waited for the Khan’s response. Her mind was sharp, ready for whatever might come next, knowing that every word, every gesture from this point forward could be crucial. The stories spoke of the wisdom of sphinxes but also their temper. She hoped today would only reveal the former.