first walk

A burst of phantom wind kicked up the dust underneath his feet, shrouding his vision in sandy brown. He drew a deep, desperate breath as if he'd just surfaced from under water, and doubled over coughing as his lungs flooded with dry air. He reached out his hand in search of a solid surface to lean on before he collapsed, and found not a stable city wall, but a rough, uneven boulder by his side.

"Hello?"

The word had to force itself out of a throat already ravaged by the choking lack of humidity. It was the natural thing to do, to shout for help when hundreds of people were within a few feet. But as he finally looked up, taking in his surroundings, there were no other people. No structures to be seen, no sound other than the whistle of wind over countless miles of dusty land as it weaved through the rocks and over the dunes. Other than himself, there was no life here, not even plants. The places that weren't covered with drifting sand were cracked and parched. Dead.

He looked overhead, to a sky wider and more blue than any he had ever seen, entirely unobstructed by the tall buildings he'd known. In a way, it held wonder, as for the first time in his life he saw where sky and land met. But it also came with a terrible exposure. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to go. Whatever dangers this strange place held, they could swoop down on him from that neverending sky and end him in a second. An enormous bright sun beat down on him, and he realized that despite the stifling heat, he wasn't sweating. No, of course he was, he thought. It was just being whisked away by the thirsty air before he could feel it.

He shivered. If he didn't find a way out, or some sort of shelter, he would die in this strange place. Whether dehydration or some other unknown danger would claim him first, he didn't know. And he wasn't about to stay still long enough to find out.

Raising his palms together, he idly made sparks dance between them to remind himself that he wasn't defenseless, and immediately noticed another oddity about this bizarre land. The dry air conducted his electricity wonderfully, but that wasn't the problem. Holding onto the mana to power his magic was an ordeal, and when he did grasp it, it crept up his arms sluggishly like dirty oil. He frowned, and stopped, his hands falling back to his side. Well, it still worked, at least.

There was still the issue of getting out of this hellhole. Somewhere to at least get his bearings and a drink before he tried to find a way back home. As his eyes swept across the land once more, he finally saw it. A landmark, some sign of civilization in this decrepit place. But rather than give him comfort, it just brought more uncertainty.

Two spires, curling in close to each other like a pair of horns. As if a massive beast sat just under the horizon, and would any second rear up and tower above the desert. To the side of the left spire hung a second sun underneath the larger one, exactly the right size to fit between the horns. Too perfectly to be a coincidence.

He wondered, for a moment, what would happen when the sun finally drifted there.

Before he could wonder much more, a horrible, muffled screech broke the silence. From a crack in the ground something burst, wrapping rotted fingers around his leg. He yelped, and turned to confront his attacker, only to be met with a visage of horror, a face pulling itself up from the sands that had peeled partially away from the bone after years of being subjected heat and erosion.

Out of reflex he immediately sent a jolt of electricity down his leg, trying to force the awful creature to let him go. But there simply wasn't enough muscle mass to cause a reaction. Its flesh and bone charred slightly, but its hold remained strong, and it pulled his feet from under him, toppling him to the ground in a cloud of dust. He tried to kick it away, but more hands, two, four, six, burst around him, forcing him down. He saw the flash of yellowed human teeth closing in, and-

And as abruptly as he had appeared on this plane, he vanished, in a peal of thunder and the ghost of a humid downdraft. Raindrops fell onto the groud where he had been, immediately swallowed by a land that had not known water in years.