You draw your breath in and out.

  The chill on your skin pulls you from the dark. You open your eyes to silver clouds drifting on the wind, foliage swaying in a rhythmic dance above.

  Turning slowly, you find an endless horizon of water. To your right, white sands stretch toward a line of palms. You sit up, looking down at clothes that were once formal—now nothing but ragged, salt-stained silk.

  With mustered strength, you stand.

  The sky bleeds into a deep orange. You watch, fascinated, until the sun dips below the world. Darkness settles, but it is short-lived. A sudden, violent brightness erupts from the tree line.

  Trees are burning. The fire spreads wide, engulfing the mountain peak like a golden crown. Like a moth to a flame, you walk toward the heat.

  The scent of ash fills the air as you delve closer to the source. Birds fly overhead in frantic droves, their chirps a chorus of panic. A herd of deer bursts through the brush, hooves thumping against the earth. You raise your arms to shield yourself, but they flow past you like water around a stone. Not one bumps you.

  The fires surround you now. Embers fall like orange snow and the grass hisses as it vanishes, yet you move forward. Your lungs begin to ache; your eyes grow weary and tear from the smoke.

  Then, a sound breaks through the roar of the flames.

  A cry for help.

  You perk up and follow the voice. With every step, the sound clarifies into a desperate wail. You find them: a girl desperately trying to heave a burning log off her companion. The boy's legs are pinned tight, his skin bruised a sickening shade of purple.

  Your footstep snaps a twig. They both startle. The girl reaches for a dagger, her hands shaking.

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  "S-stay away! Don't get any closer!"

  Despite the warning, you approach. You feel neither concern nor hesitation.

  "KYAAAAHHH!"

  She lunges, her dagger pointed at your throat. You freeze, bracing for the kiss of steel. But the forest floor is slick with moisture; she trips, falling hard at your feet with a groan of pain.

  Up close, you see it. They are gray and scaly. Their eyes are wide, slit-like, and unmistakably alien. The girl looks up at you, trembling, covering her head.

  "I-I... I’m sorry! Have mercy!"

  You stare for a moment, then move past her. You crouch beside the trapped boy. His scales are a different hue—a mix of crimson red and iridescent green. He breathes in sharp, jagged gasps, eyes squeezed shut against the agony.

  "H-hey! Um..." The girl scrambles up, pushing against the log again. "Please... help us."

  You nod. You observe the log for a heartbeat, then give it a sharp, heavy kick. The timber tumbles away as if it weighed nothing.

  She watches in shock. Shaking off her disbelief, she immediately begins tending to his mangled legs. You watch them in silence. Eventually, she heaves him onto her back, his weight leaning heavily against her.

  "Well... are you coming with us?" she asks, her voice softer now. "I must repay you. And I’m sorry for the knife... I thought you were a slaver. We’re refugees."

  The silence between you is awkward until a roar of collapsing trees breaks it.

  "We should go! This fire came out of nowhere," she sighs, adjusting her friend’s weight. "Misfortunes follow our kind. Maybe you’re an omen that things might finally get better."

  You nod. She offers a hopeful smile, and you follow.

  As you leave, you take one last look at the destruction. There is a strange beauty in the flames licking the air—a scent that is both fresh and rotten, the smell of new fire and old death.

  The full moon is high by the time you reach the forest’s edge. A small stream leads the way into a plain of tall grass where crickets creak in the dark.

  Mei-Ling stops to catch her breath, sliding Zhao to the ground to rest. You stand beside them, your shadow long and still.

  "How..." she gasps, wiping sweat from her brow. "How are you still not exhausted?"

  You stare at her blankly.

  "Alright... enough with the staring." She looks away, annoyed, then sneaks another glance at your tattered clothes. "You genuinely don’t understand a word I'm saying, do you?"

  Silence.

  "Ugh. Not the peace and quiet I wanted, but I suppose it’ll do."

  The grass rustles. You and Mei-Ling turn as a group of cloaked figures emerges, crossbows leveled and clicking into place.

  "State your purpose!" the leader shouts.

  Mei-Ling clears her throat, her voice high and nervous. "I'm Mei-Ling! This is Zhao. We’re just looking for shelter!"

  The leader nods slowly. "And the other one?"

  The crossbows pivot to you.

  "Their name is... is..." Mei-Ling fumbles, her eyes darting to you. "Their name is Jin!"

  "I see." The leader pulls back his cloak, revealing a human man with curly hair and a rough stubble. He looks friendly, until he doesn't. "Welcome to Asyl. We’ve been gathering refugees at the church. Most of you look roughed up by the journey... except for your friend here."

  His tone turns cold. Suspicious.

  "What do you mean?" Mei-Ling asks.

  "Well, let’s just say, pretty lizard lady—" The man smirks, his hand flying to his hip. "—that thing is a Deorcian. And I advise you to stay back!"

  He lunges, his longsword whistling through the air in a deadly overhead arc.