Soothing Sands

> After all the years of fulfilling your duties, the gravity of it all catches up to you one dreary, lonely night.
> Faces, countless faces of those you've had to cut down swirl like ghosts in the flames of your campfire. Silence, yet somehow the loudest thing you've ever heard.
> Feeling a pressure on your chest, you remove your armor, a rare occurrence these days. The weight does not dissipate from your heart, however.
> Tormented by your past, unable to sleep, and weary from another day of wanton slaughter, you start to wander from your little campsite
> You had originally made camp about a few hours away from the grand desert, one said to go on forever. It was as good as place as any for you to atone for your sins.
> Walking without water, food, or any supplies, you cast yourself into the sandy wastes. Even when the sun rises, you press on.
> Time loses all meaning. You're not sure whether you've walked two hours or two days. Your body has long since given over to the pain in your heart and mind.
> A sudden, soft rumble briefly brings your attention back to the mortal plane.
> To your right, a respectable distance away, the carapace of some great worm is poking its head out of the sand.

> You pause for a moment, as does the worm. Still, it remains the same length from you.
> A vague memory of a campfire tale floats across your mind. One of men snatched from the dunes and never seen again. It seems the stories might have some truth to them.
> After the worm makes no move for what could have been hours, you start walking again. Another rumble tells you that it's following you once more.
> Eventually, you forget that it's even there. Or, rather, a part of you simply accepts that this thing, whatever it was, will make sure that your remains go to some use. Perhaps a better use than your sword had ever been.
> You don't even notice that you've stopped walking, having fallen over and begun circling in the sand. A darkness overtakes you, and you embrace it.
> Floating without purpose, without reason, without form, you wonder if this is the fate that awaits all after death. Perhaps it was fitting for one such as you.
> Despite this, you begin to feel warmer and wetter, to the point where your body begins to send your lost brain sensations once more.
> Wearily, you crack your eyes open to find yourself staring up at a strange, fleshy woman. After several minutes of blank staring, you realize that the woman is actually the "tongue" of the worm that was following you earlier.
> Unable to speak, to ask why she hasn't consumed you, you simply close your eyes and cough.
> To your surprise, she speaks first. "You're a brave one, to come this far with nothing but your will to sustain you."
> Brave... no that didn't apply to you. Only cowards would do what you did. But you're in no shape to argue.
> "Be that as it may, you need your rest now. Sleep for a time."
> Another sensation of warmth and wetness washes over you as the soft voice trails off.
> This time, you find yourself drifting off to sleep.

> Nightmares haunt your dreams, sending you into a writhing fit. All the evils you had ever committed, all the wrongs you had wrought, they weren't going to let you slumber peacefully.
> Breaking away from the hell, you awake screaming. All around you is a fleshy wall, soft and moist. So the worm decided to eat you after all...
> "Shhh, it's okay..."
> A mass of flesh rearranges itself next to you, taking on the form of the woman from before. Gently, she hovers over you, then drapes herself around your form.
> As this strange being embraces you, its voice rings out once more in a caring whisper.
> "It'll be okay, I promise. We're almost to the oasis now. Just relax and let me take care of you."
> ...Why? You didn't deserve to be taken care of. You deserved to die. Parting your chapped lips and forcing air out of your tired lungs, you croak as much at her.
> The hug tightens, but not enough to be uncomfortable.
> "Perhaps the heat of the sun has gotten to your mind. It will be okay. I'm here for you."
> A small bit of anger wells up in you at being denied the release of death, but the sorrow quickly quiets it. You find yourself weeping and lamenting openly while in the maw of the worm.
> All the while, she keeps you close, listening without interruption. At some points in your mad, traumatized tale, she presses herself further against your chest.
> You pour every thing out to her, not caring that it was taking the last of your strength to do so, or that you may simply be spewing pure gibberish. Finally, your words stop, if only because there is no more moisture to be found in your lungs.
> Darkness overtakes you again, but not before you feel something slip into your mouth.
> "Rest. I will watch over you."

> Floating once more in the dusk, you feel vibrations in the "air" around you. Focusing, you come to realize that it's some sort of song.
> The actual words and their meaning are lost on you in this state, but the angelic vocalist brings your soul a sliver of warmth.
> Protected by the song, your dreams are without demons. Instead, you simply awake some unknown amount of time later.
> No longer do the fleshy walls surround you. Instead, a jutting rock face overlooking a small pool of water shades you from the sun.
> Try as you might to move, your body refuses to listen to you. All you're able to do is press yourself upright against the rock before your strength gives out once more.
> Panting, you look around. Aside from you, the oasis was vacant of all animal life. Not even the worm from before is present.
> A small tear rolls down your face, wondering whether it truly was all just a dream.
> "Oh... You're awake. I'm sorry. I must have dozed off..."
> What you thought was the rock shifts and opens up above you. Again, the worm-woman looks down at you, concern and care in her eyes.
> "You look like you're doing much better. How do you feel?"
> You manage a grunt, yet she still smiles at your response.
> "That good, huh?" Her laughter proves to be contagious, causing the corner of your mouth to twitch.
> Bending herself down, she brings herself to be at eye-level with you. By now, you realize that perhaps the worm is simply an outer shell, meant to protect this being inside. You had certainly seen stranger things on your travels.
> Your travels... A wave of revulsion drowns you in an instant, and you find yourself hurling what little your stomach contains into the sparse grass next to you.
> A hand, her hand, comes to rest on your shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze.
> "Let it all out. You have come so far and helped so many, but at a terrible cost. For that, I am truly sorry."
> She moves to embrace you once more, and you willingly melt into it.

> Minutes, hours, maybe even days pass before your new companion... no... caretaker pulls back.
> "Do you think you can get yourself into the water? I don't want to leave you in the open for too long, and we could both use some food."
> You nod and try to stand, only to collapse right back down to the ground.
> As you sigh in desperation and hopelessness, the worm's maw carefully plucks you up and deposits you into the pool. It does not seem very deep, and you're left almost laying and floating in the cool liquid.
> "You don't need to strain yourself. Now, promise you'll not drown while I'm gone, okay?"
> Another grunt warrants another smile, and she quickly dives back into the sand and speeds off.
> The moment her rumbling has all but gone from your senses, silence overtakes you once more. Just when it grows to be unbearable, your mind produces the song you heard during your slumber.
> It keeps you sane, once again warding off the evils that haunt you. For a moment, you consider whether you had truly passed on. That perhaps some angel had found your soul in purgatory and was trying her best to save you.
> Your thoughts are interrupted as you find yourself being plucked up and deposited on the shore. Your caretaker has returned, and with her an assemblage of small rodents, snakes, and lizards.
> "I do not know what you humans usually eat, but I hope that these will be edible. I apologize that there is no fire to cook them upon."
> You find yourself waving a hand in dismissal. Worse things had found their way down your gullet, yet here you were.
> As you eat, the worm simply waits and watches you. She seems content simply that you're eating.
> When you finish, a question finds its way from your lips: Why?
> "Because no one deserves to be alone."

> Words abandon you as your ally for the rest of the day, what few hours of it remain. Thankfully, the silence that settles between the pair of you is one of warmth and comfort.
> Whenever you find yourself tearing up or trying to speak, the worm simply listens and offers a reassuring hug or squeeze.
> By the time the blazing sun has dipped below the horizon, the temperature has plummeted drastically.
> Shivering, you try to curl up into a ball. Noticing this immediately, your caretaker starts to shift her massive body. All said and done, she's manages to make a grotto around you, with her maw hovering down over the entrance.
> Having her walls around you, stemming the flow of the desert winds, has already brought you comfort. You try to thank her, but she shakes her head.
> "I require no thanks. Truthfully, I would have preferred to have been able to take you to Ix tonight. But the village is too far, even for me, and there is a storm fast approaching."
> As she sighs gently, you hear a distant clap of thunder, slightly amplified by the artificial cave surrounding you. After a moment, it dawns on you that your caretaker will be shielding you from the weather with her body.
> Before you can utter so much as two words of protest, she yawns and smiles. "I needed a bath anyways. I may be a sandworm, but even now and again it feels heavenly to have my carapace cleaned. Just focus on getting some rest."
> The way she says it satisfies you at first, but a nagging feeling tells you that there's still something wrong. Despite this, you soon drift off to sleep.

> You do not dream that night, and even then not for very long. An earsplittingly loud crash wakes you at once, causing you to shoot upright. Having forgotten where you were, your head immediately collides with the underside of one of the worm's coils.
> As stars momentarily cloud your vision, your ears clue you in to two new sounds. First, the heavy patter of rain against the worm' exterior. Second, that the worm is shivering. It's a very subtle sort of scrapping sound, barely audible, but still present.
> A flash of lightning illuminates the worm's half-open maw and the woman inside. Turned slightly away from you, she seems to be trembling inside of herself as she watches the storm ravage the dunes.
> Still weak, you crawl over to her head and knock politely on the underside of her jaw. It clamps shut reflexively with a small "eep" from her before she peeks back out at you.
> "S-Sorry... Did I wake you?"
> You waylay that fear of hers quickly, shifting focus onto whether she's alright. A forced smile crosses her face in response.
> "Yes I'm fine. Maybe a little cold, but nothing I can't handle."
> Another flash and clap causes her to jump slightly. What did subterranean beasts like her do during storms anyways? Perhaps they normally weathered them underground? Still, after all she's done, you start to feel immensely guilty.
> You tell her that she can go underground if she needs to, leaving you in the oasis to fend for yourself. You somehow managed to survive the snow-topped peaks of the southern mountain range, so this should be no problem.
> "I couldn't just leave you to the elements like that. Don't worry about me. Just rest."

> Her face betrays her dismissal, lined with fear. Grasping at straws for a compromise, you remember how she took you into her maw before. Suggesting as much, she seems to lighten somewhat.
> "T-That's a wonderful idea, though I do not want to force that up-p-pon you. I already feel guilty for having to do so earlier to keep you hydrated..."
> You ask her to open up and move over. Timidly, she does so, only to clamp her protective shell shut the moment you're inside. Another rumble reverberating around you seems to indicate that she's taken you both underground. After a few minutes, her trembling stops, as does the rumbling.
> "We should be fine here for the night. There's plenty of moisture now, so keeping us breathing won't be a problem. And tomorrow we'll be able to travel far easier."
> She pauses, then gingerly brushes your side with one of her hands.
> "Thank you..." she murmurs, making to turn over next to you. Before she can do so, however, you pull her against your chest tightly.
> You tell her that she shouldn't push herself for someone like you. That you don't deserve it.
> The worm returns your embrace, resting her head on your shoulder.
> "Everyone deserves to be comfortable and to feel safe. If only for a moment."
> You find yourself smirking and replying without thinking, telling her that that is supposed to include her as well.
> She simply squeezes you tighter, then begins to hum her song. It might just be your imagination, but it sounds even more lovely than before. You still cannot understand the words, though.
> Eventually, curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask her what it all means.
> "It's the story of my life. All sandworms sing their stories to one another. I could try translating, if you'd like."
> You tell her that you'd like that very much.

> Most of her story has no direct translation from her language to yours, but she's more than happy to try anyways.
> "...that means 'The Great Watery Expanse.' I think you humans call it the ocean..."
> Her life seems to have been filled with travels to places that lie beyond the sands. Certainly, none of the locations she describes are recorded in human literature.
> Overall, it's a happy tale. Still, she's weathered so much and been just as alone as you've been. The difference, though, is that she did not let it define her as yours did you.
> Noticing you sighing, the worm pauses and inquires whether you're alright. After reassuring her, she seems to grow warmer around you.
> "If you insist. This next part, though, I think you already know."
> Like one might describe a meeting with their beloved, she ends her song with the story of a human wishing to become one with the sands. It's poetic, bittersweet, and leaves you sobbing once more.
> She waits until you've calmed down, then adds, "...Normally, sharing one's shell is a highly intimate act. But I don't mind breaking that social taboo if it keeps you happy."
> Your heart breaks for what feels like the fifth time that evening. You've done nothing to warrant this. Nothing at all. Yet here you were, in the sandworm's embrace, having the walls around your wounded heart pulled aside so that she might curl around it.
> Without thinking, you kiss her, pouring everything that you are and ever have been into the passionate movement.
> The flesh around you grows wetter as she returns the affection. It takes a moment, but you realize that this must be how sandworms cry.

> Time seems to stop as you and your caretaker dance across one another's faces. It's less an expression of love or lust, more of an intense desire to simply feel close to something. Someone. To feel that emotional bond that both of you have lacked for so long.
> Tears flow willingly from the both of you, quickly becoming the focus of your combined efforts as the initial frenzy dies down.
> Sniffling, you try to apologize, mostly out of worry that you forced yourself upon her. She quickly places a finger on your mouth to stop you, though.
> "No. None of that. You should never be ashamed or worried about expressing how you feel. And, let's be honest, I think we both needed that."
> Her smile crushes your heart once more, but you're at least able to mumble your thanks.
> As you share an embrace with her, the pair of you breathing heavily, your mind starts to race. How is it that you can see in the first place from within her maw? Was there any truth to the tales about travelers being abducted? ...What was her name?
> The last question causes you to freeze up as it passes across your mind. She had not once mentioned it, nor asked for yours. And yet, despite this, you felt more attached to her than any other person, human or monster, that you had ever met before.
> Sheepishly, you squeak out your inquiry. Bracing against the laugh that never comes, the worm simply squeezes you tight and speaks into your ear.
> "My name? It is Basira. Just, Basira. I must apologize for not giving it to you sooner. Names are such a fleeting thing among the endless sands that it slipped my mind."
> She pauses, then shifts so as to look down into your eyes with motherly warmth. "But what of yours?"
> Your mouth opens, but no sound comes from it. Did your name, one stained with blood, really mean anything now? Would it not be best simply to start life anew? Was that the dishonorable thing to do? To cast aside your old life so easily?

> While the battle in your mind wages, Basira silently waits. Finally, you tell her your true name. She had the right to know the monster for whom she was caring for. Casting aside your gaze, you trail off, admitting that you wished to be able to start anew.
> "Starting over... To be honest, I only half understood your laments from a few nights ago. You were so dehydrated and your body burned that I don't think you knew quite all what you were saying. Still..."
> She shifts, bringing you upright to lean against one of her walls. Placing her head against your chest, she closes her eyes.
> "...I heard the pain in your soul. To carry around such a burden... No, I don't blame you for wanting to cast aside such a thing. As I said, though, names are a fleeting thing in the sands of time. You may see yourself as a villain now, but history may paint you in a different light. Or perhaps it may not paint you at all, fickle as it is. All that matters is that you should do what you think is best. I shall support whatever that may be."
> You fall silent, failing to come up with a proper answer. Not wanting to leave Basira hanging, though, you tell her that you need time to think. In the meantime, though, you tell her that you'd like to know more about her and her race.
> Her contagious laughs vibrates throughout her entire body against and around you at each of your inquiries. "For one who claims they are but a simple tool of war, you have a child's wonder about you. I would be more than happy to tell you whatever you'd like, so long as you promise to get some rest soon."

> Before drifting off to her singing some hours later, you discover a plethora of things about sandworms. Ranging from their position as desert couriers, to their ability to store items in pouch-like cavities within themselves, to their bio-luminescent inner flesh, you marvel at how efficient her design was.
> In a way, it all makes you feel even smaller compared to her. You don't express this thought, though, knowing full well that she'll hug it out of you. ...Funny that. You never once thought you'd ever be close enough to someone to know how they'd react. It is... nice.
> In the morning, you're awoken by Basira opening her maw to let in rays of sun. Somehow, she managed to bring you both back up to the surface without waking you. Perhaps it meant that your slumber was becoming more peaceful.
> After letting you stretch and relieve yourself in the privacy offered by a close by dune, she scoops you back up and dives back into the sand. It's not long before the pair of you end up revisiting the discussion from the night before.
> You're still not able to give her a concrete answer about your name, but you were curious about these pouches of hers. Without pausing her outer shell's forward momentum, her inner body twists back on itself for a moment. Turning back, you see that she is now cradling a handful of some sort of coin in her hands.
> "See? Nice and easy storage. I can make the pouches be as moist or as dry as the contents need to be. But here, take this."
> Basira deposits the currency into your lap without warning, causing you to frown.
> "No, don't you even think about refusing that. We'll be at Ix soon, and we've got to get you some proper clothing at the very least."
> ...She really was a mothering soul at her core. Still, the gears in your mind begin to turn, searching for any way to repay her generosity.

> Sadly, by the time you arrive at Ix, you have no ideas. The sight of the village, however, quickly pushes this concern away. The settlement is the embodiment of all you've ever worked for - peaceful coexistence between man and monster. Here and there, beings of all sort dart about their daily lives, though the humans have far darker skin than you've ever seen before. Had you known such a place existed, even in such a barren realm as this...
> "You're frowning again~"
> Apologizing, you sigh and lean back against her chest. From this position, she starts pointing out details of the village and its people as you both travel inwards.
> Due to her size, Basira is only able to go so far into the settlement. Leaving you at a crossroads, she gives you directions to a trader whom owes her favors. After promising to meet back here in three hours time, as the sun sets, you both split up.
> You get lost once or twice on the way, and it's slow going to your aching body. By the time you reach the trader, the meager strips of cloth that were your clothes hang from you, soaked with sweat.
> Inside the trader's tent, a wide variety of trinkets and fabrics line the walls. After mentioning Basira's name and showing him the coin you had on hand, the man simply tells you to pick five lengths of cloth to make the outfits from. However, before you can even so much as begin pondering which items to get, he adds that your worm companion has had her eye on something of his for quite some time. If you were willing to settle for a single outfit, he would be more than happy to give it you.
> The trader seems genuine enough, and the chance to do something nice for Basira automatically takes precedence in your mind. Leaving the tent now properly clothed in desert attire, you wander back towards the crossroads with a small package under your arm.

> You end up arriving last, but Basira doesn't mind at all. However, upon seeing what you're carrying, she frowns. It is the first time she's ever done so in your company, almost frightening despite the fact you know she's simply concerned.
> "Did that old man con you? I hope not. The last time he tried it on me, I ended up chasing him across the western trails for months before he finally apologized."
> You pause, then look down at the package in your hand. You don't even know what's in this thing, yet you trusted the man blindly. Clearly being a fool was something you would never escape from. Still...
> Offering it out, you tell her that you hope it's what she wanted. This causes her expression to change to one of confusion as she gingerly takes it from you and begins to unwrap it.
> Inside, a stunning, heart-shaped, cut ruby lies within an ornate wooden box. Upon seeing it, Basira starts to tremble.
> "W-What is this? How did you...?"
> You tell her that you don't understand, and that you're sorry if you offended her in some way. After taking a few deep breaths, she calms herself and pulls you close.
> "...This is another one of those social taboos, but it is not your fault for not knowing. Unless, of course, you meant to propose to me just now."
> The way she says it makes you realize that she knows this is all just a misunderstanding, but that a part of her was overjoyed to see the gem all the same. Even though she had done so much for you, in such a short while... marriage?
> Taking her hand in yours, you tell her to keep it, but on one condition: that she only truly accept it should you prove to be a worthy companion to her.
> Wiping her face, she gives you her strongest hug to date. "You already are, but I understand. When we're both ready, we'll journey down that path. For now though..."
> Pulling back, she points to the horizon.
> "I have to ferry several packages to the Port of Saz. You are, of course, welcome to...eep!"
> You had jumped in with her without a second thought.

---

> "Trouble sleeping again?"
> Basira yawns and re-positions herself against your side as you sigh deeply. It's been two days since you both left Ix, and you've yet to slumber. Though your body is beyond weary, your mind keeps revisiting and obsessing over past wrongs. It's not nearly as bad as it was earlier in the week, but it's enough that sleep keeps dancing out of reach.
> The sandworm picked up on this quite quickly, and she's been trying everything she can think of to help you relax: singing, story-telling, and even just listening to your pathetic ramblings. Though each helps in its own way, none of them let you escape to the void for but a few minutes. By now, you're even starting to become angry with yourself for making her worry.
> When you voice this thought, mostly due to your inability to keep a reign on your sleep-deprived brain, Basira sighs herself.
> "The sins of this world would trouble anyone. In a way, you've trapped yourself in what might be the worst hell imaginable. A mind wandering without purpose often circles dark places. I only wish that I were a better guide in helping you navigate these doldrums."
> Before you can stop yourself, you spit out that it might have been better to let you die. All at once, Basira stops moving through the sand and pulls away from you.
> "Perhaps it is I who has committed the gravest sin of all by forcing you to carry on. But what is done is done. The sands of time will be our judge. Ah... but this isn't helping at all..."
> Seeing the worry on her face hurts you more than any past wounds or demons. Timidly motioning for her to rejoin you at your side, you apologize for snapping at her. For being a fool.
> Basira resumes moving through the sands as she curls up next to you again, but not before offering one last musing.
> "A true fool would be unable to see his folly for what it was. Thus, you are no less a fool than any other."

---

> "You're crying. Is everything alright?"
> No, no it wasn't. But how could you tell her that?
> You want to scream, to yell until the inner demons and pain in your heart is chased away. But you can't. Every time you try, the dull pain in your throat just gets worse. It's as if your heartache has replaced your vocal cords.
> By now, she knows the best thing to do is give you your space. For a time, anyways.
> "Is it that empty feeling again?"
> You nod, trying not to look at her. How she puts up with such a pathetic mess, you'll never know.
> "Well, if your words find you again, I will be here ready to listen. Just as I have been in the past. Just as I will be in the future."
> Her hand briefly gives your shoulder a squeeze
> Somehow that helps, but you fear you still have a long night ahead of you.

---