Forged Destiny [Book 6: Ch. 1, Ch. 2]

The day dawned early and we dawned earlier – hurrying up the staircase towards Beacon as the sun peaked up over the city.

—Forged Destiny [Book 6: Ch. 1]


"This is hell," Yang panted. "I'm… I'm convinced. This is a nightmare made reality."

"It's not… It's not that bad," Weiss said, or tried to say. The Mage staggered a little and swayed precariously, propped up at the last second by Ruby, who had already taken to using Crescent Rose as some kind of walking stick, or third leg. It helped on the sand dunes, no doubt, which we'd soon discovered could be more slippery than the worst Atlas had thrown at us.

And the heat, by the Gods themselves, the heat! I'd thought I hated the cold. After Atlas and then a cold winter back in Vale, I'd longed for warmer days, but this was ridiculous. I decided that I hated the heat more than I did the cold. At least when it was chill outside I could wrap up, start a fire or snuggle into some blankets. If someone showed me a blanket out here I was liable to stab them.

Our pace had slowed to a crawl, too. I stopped to uncork my flask and take a swig. I wished I could pour a little over my face, dry and cracked as my skin was, but that would be a disaster and I knew it. Even after corking it and starting moving once more, no one had overtaken me. Every step was laborious, every dune an insurmountable object.

"Grimm," Nora warned, slumped against her hammer. The Barbarian sounded like she might burst into tears at any moment. "Can't they just leave us alone? I'm already dying…"

No one answered, though we all agreed. Weapons were drawn and we held our ground, watching and waiting for the Grimm we could see cresting the rise ahead to reach us. It was not the first attack, nor would it be the last. The black carapaces stood out against the golden desert, letting us see them for miles, though sometimes the dunes were misleading, looking flat but hiding goodness knows what.

Grimm weren't bothered by heat, exertion or thirst. In this hellish landscape, they were tireless and filled with aggression, the complete antithesis of us.

"Stay back, Weiss," I said, the words coming out as more of a sigh than anything else. "We're going to need your ice spells more to survive than fight."

The Mage held my gaze for a moment and nodded, sheathing her weapon and staggering away. The little flash of injured pride I'd seen had been erased by the realisation I was right. Right now, if we had a choice between Weiss assisting us in a fight with magic, or Weiss providing water through her melting ice, we all knew which we'd take. Yang had jokingly called Weiss our portable water canteen earlier. Half a day of harsh walking had proven that anything but a jest.

[...]

It was around mid-afternoon, maybe three or four if I had to guess. It was hard to get a reading from just the sun, since I couldn't tell if the landscape before us was flat, sloped or not. We had our tents and camping equipment with us, however, as painful as it was to carry.

[...]

An hour later – and two more skirmishes with the Grimm - saw us crest the final dune and reveal the mountain Blake had referred to, a large, but awfully squat red-rock thing.

—Forged Destiny [Book 6: Ch. 2]