Chapter 131: Reminiscing Eyes

Safira glanced behind her, where Huda was now berating a different unfortunate Soul—this time a young woman who had dared to wear sandals instead of boots to dive.

"Hm..."

She tapped her chin with one finger.

"My companion Huda and I are heading down to the depths. We have... business there. Important business."

She paused, her eyes meeting his again.

"If you’d like, you could join us partway. It’s dangerous to travel alone, even in the upper layers, and I’d feel better knowing you had someone watching your back."

Malik kept his face perfectly still, even as relief flooded through him at her words.

Exactly as planned.

"That’s generous of you. I’d be grateful for the company."

Safira beamed at him, then turned and waved at Huda, who was just finishing her tirade against the unfortunate sandal-wearer.

"Huda! Come here! You remember the stranger from the East, don’t you?"

Huda stomped over, her boots kicking up dust with every step, and the moment her eyes landed on Malik, her face twisted into a scowl so deep it looked like it had been carved there.

"It’s you again!"

Malik nodded, keeping his expression pleasant.

"Hello."

"What the Hell is a Demon like you doing here?!"

Huda jabbed a finger at his chest, hard enough that a lesser man might have stumbled backward.

"I appreciate you getting us out of there—I do—but this and that are different! I don’t like stalkers. And I definitely don’t like Demons who follow me around!"

Malik felt his eye twitch.

He could feel the anger bubbling up inside him, but he swallowed it down, forced it into a small, tight ball in the center of his chest, and let a stuttering smile crawl across his face.

"It’s nice to see you too."

Huda blinked.

She stared at him, her finger still hovering in the air where his chest had been, her mouth opening and closing.

The anger didn’t drain from her face so much as it stalled, caught off guard by his complete lack of reaction.

He had seen that look before; rather, he had been the cause of that look more times than he could count.

’People expect you to react. When you don’t, they don’t know what to do with themselves.’

After a long, awkward moment, Huda glanced back at Safira, who gave her a small nod.

Huda’s jaw tightened, and she let out a scoff.

"Fine."

She turned on her heel and stomped back towards the line.

"Fine! But if he slows us down, I’m leaving him for the sandworms!"

Safira chuckled and reached out to pull Malik forward by the sleeve of his robe.

"She’s accepted you, Stranger. Congratulations."

"Hm."

Malik’s reply was utterly flat.

"I’m so happy."

Safira giggled at that, a genuine laugh that made a few heads turn in their direction.

"You’re really a lot like my Teacher, Stranger."

Malik said nothing to that.

He simply allowed himself to be pulled along, his eyes fixed on the path ahead, his mind already turning toward the darkness that waited below.

’You have no idea how much like him I am.’

It was obvious from the way he acted that he didn’t want them to introduce themselves to him, nor he to them.

Safira respected that, and surprisingly, despite all her actions, Huda did as well.

The queue swallowed them, and the three of them walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

People stared at them as they passed.

Of course they did.

Huda was striking, with her wild hair and gorgeous features, the kind of beauty that made men nervous and women jealous.

Safira was softer, gentler, with her ginger curls and her warm smile, the kind of beauty that made people want to protect her, even though she was the one protecting them all.

And then there was Malik.

A weathered old man, walking between two of the most beautiful women in the South.

The envy was almost palpable, a hundred jealous glares bored into Malik’s back.

Though he didn’t bother acknowledging such trivialities, focusing on his journey.

He hoped that it wouldn’t be long, but well, things never went to plan, did they?

Once they reached the entrance to the Abyss—a massive crack in the earth that seemed to swallow the light itself, its edges jagged and black, its depths impossible to gauge.

The seekers ahead of them descended one by one, some climbing down ropes, others simply stepping off the edge and letting themselves fall, their bodies disappearing into the darkness.

Huda stopped at the edge, looked back at Safira and Malik, and raised her hand.

She snapped her fingers, making them float with her wind.

"Let’s go."

...

The Abyss opened up around them.

They passed through the towering mushroom forests first.

Then came the lake, a vast sea so still and so filled with danger.

They reached a nearly never-ending forest after that, a tangled maze from the ground.

Huda flew them through it all, until, finally, they emerged into the yellow desert.

Sand stretched out before them, its surface rippling in waves of heat that had nothing to do with the Suns and everything to do with the fires that burned somewhere far below.

Below, seekers could be seen walking across the sand in shuffling patterns—almost dancing, really—their bodies swaying from side to side, their feet never leaving the ground for more than a moment.

It looked ridiculous, almost comical, but Malik knew better.

He knew firsthand what happened to those who walked normally across such deserts.

The sandworms rising from the depths were a nightmare to most Magi, a certain death.

This walk was how they bypassed that nightmare.

One wrong step, and you were nothing more than a meal.

But Malik wasn’t focused on the seekers or the worms.

His attention was on Safira.

Her eyes were fixed on the sand below with an expression that Malik had never seen on her face before.

There was pain there, loss, and something else—perhaps guilt.

Huda had slowed them down, her earlier aggression softening.

She glanced at Safira, and for once, she didn’t say anything.

Safira needed this moment.

Malik was confused as to what ailed her in this land.

What memory was she reliving across this endless yellow sea?

He opened his mouth to ask—

Thump.

—only for a... memory to take over.

IT’s spell wasn’t yet over.