Speaking of luck, Konehl-Ghervil’s heart sank as she watched the knight guzzling cactus sap as if it were a refreshing drink.
Only she had seen the cryptic notes, and Ishmele-Esli, she suspected, had been entangled in this predicament by some cruel twist of fate. Escaping without further misfortune would be a stroke of immense luck, so relying on chance for their survival was clearly not an option.
Still, they weren’t entirely without leads. This dreamscape, in all likelihood, was the very place detailed in the pictorial notes. If her assumptions were correct, a small town should be nestled somewhere nearby, offering a potential solution to their immediate survival needs.
With ice pressed against her forehead, she barely noticed as the melting water trickled down her cheeks, past her collarbones, and finally pooled on her chest.
Her expression was far from pleasant.
The dampness was profoundly uncomfortable; her undergarments clung unpleasantly to her skin, and the constricted fabric in that specific area made any attempt at adjustment quite difficult.
At the time of purchase, she hadn’t given it much thought, believing ‘suitable’ was enough.
Her body’s development had taken an unexpected turn, burgeoning in rather peculiar areas.
‘Oh, my Goddess, why would you not grant me height?’
She fervently wished for no further growth, save for her stature, knowing that comfortable, high-quality undergarments came at a steep price.
Replacing them so soon after purchase simply did not align with her frugal and disciplined way of life.
“What is your current state?” she asked, hoping to divert her thoughts by questioning Govet-Ghervil.
“I can only perceive what you do, from your subjective viewpoint,” Govet-Ghervil replied. “My power and time are constrained; I cannot remain by your side constantly, as I might in an ordinary dream.”
“That is sufficient,” Konehl-Ghervil responded. “Clad in that thick fur, you would be thoroughly cooked within minutes in this heat… No, I mustn’t dwell on such thoughts! The idea of roasted meat only intensifies my hunger.”
It was peculiar, to say the least; unlike ordinary dreams where hunger and thirst were unknown, her physical sensations here mirrored those of reality.
She ought to be grateful she hadn’t refused the kind offer of snacks back at the medical center.
“Knowing you still have the presence of mind to joke puts me at ease,” Govet-Ghervil remarked, a hint of resignation in her voice.
Why couldn’t her sister’s personality match her outwardly endearing appearance?
“What of the others?” Konehl-Ghervil pressed, her curiosity piqued.
“Not particularly well,” came the somber reply.
“They’ve entered this true dreamscape as well!?” she exclaimed, a flicker of alarm in her eyes.
“No, it is your situation that has deteriorated,” Govet-Ghervil clarified. “The identity you so painstakingly concealed has been exposed, and they are currently deliberating your fate.”
Her identity’s exposure had been an inevitability, so perhaps it was for the best that she wasn’t facing the immediate fallout. This would at least grant Dr. Callan a buffer, a chance for her anger to subside.
But why would they ‘deal’ with her?
“…Shouldn’t their priority be to awaken me?”
“Indeed, that is the case,” Govet-Ghervil confirmed. “However, opinions are now sharply divided. The Epidemic Prevention Bureau and the Manor insist you be transported to the Royal Capital, where they believe you can be saved.”
“Dr. Callan, however, vehemently opposes this, asserting it’s safer to keep you close. She argues that assistance can still be sought through the hospital’s channels, as the time it takes for information to travel remains constant regardless.”
A train journey from Florence City to the Royal Capital was considerably longer than from Mistfall City, requiring a minimum of three days.
As the lead on the case, Dr. Callan was in no position to simply abandon her duties and depart.
Was this truly her concern?
With Dr. Callan overseeing things, she felt a sense of relief; the Chief’s formidable capabilities were beyond question.
“Are you feeling any better?” Ishmele-Esli inquired. “If you’re too weak to walk, I can carry you.”
Ishmele-Esli’s lips were stained an unsettling green, yet she offered a wide, reassuring grin as she extended a hand.
Under this scorching sun, being carried on her back would surely turn her into sun-dried jerky.
“I am not so frail,” Konehl-Ghervil retorted.
Pushing herself to her feet with the help of Ishmele-Esli’s hand, Konehl-Ghervil noticed a vast expanse of cacti not far behind the knight, utterly decimated.
“Are you certain?”
Ishmele-Esli’s gaze swept over her, taking in her appearance.
“I’d advise you to remove your socks,” Ishmele-Esli stated. “Your current attire likely contributes significantly to your heatstroke.”
That, however, was entirely out of the question. Her skirt already had a tear, and removing her socks would reveal even more skin.
It wasn’t merely the fear of being seen by others.
Even she would feel a flush of shame at the sight.
Unable to articulate her reasons, she simply turned away in silence, beginning her trek toward the distant Gobi Desert.
“Oh, my apologies!” Ishmele-Esli called out. “I quite forgot you were a nun.”
Presuming Konehl-Ghervil was offended, Ishmele-Esli materialized two twenty-centimeter ice sticks from her palm. She bit into one, then hurried to catch up, extending the other.
“Here, have an ice pop to calm your temper,” she offered.
“You refer to this as an ice pop?” Konehl-Ghervil questioned, a hint of disbelief in her tone.
Konehl-Ghervil found herself utterly devoid of any desire to bite into it.
It was far too hard.
She harbored no illusions that it would shatter her teeth.
“Is it not?” Ishmele-Esli asked, genuinely puzzled. “I’ve always consumed it like this; a touch of honey makes it even more palatable.”
‘May you one day experience the delight of a true ice pop,’ Konehl-Ghervil thought silently.
With that silent wish, Konehl-Ghervil tentatively placed the ‘ice stick’ into her mouth.
Perhaps it was merely her imagination, a trick of the mind, but she swore she detected the distinct taste of cactus, despite never having sampled the plant itself.
An hour and a half later, they finally arrived at the Gobi Desert.
Her stamina remained this body’s persistent weakness. Refusing to be carried, she resigned herself to a slow, deliberate pace.
The sandstorm had largely abated, a small mercy, for otherwise, their journey would have stretched even longer.
The endless supply of ice mitigated the exhaustion somewhat.
Concerned Ishmele-Esli might be overexerting herself, Konehl-Ghervil repeatedly inquired if she had sufficient water.
Each time, the reply was that she could drink to her heart’s content.
Ishmele-Esli’s boundless energy hardly suggested she was being untruthful.
Along the way, Konehl-Ghervil outlined their precarious situation and her hypotheses, hoping that the knight, seasoned by years on the front lines, could offer a more effective plan of action based on her extensive experience.
Instead, she received a burst of praise: “Truly, a nun from Solis Abbey! To possess such extensive knowledge is remarkable!”
Govet-Ghervil, meanwhile, had seemingly ‘disconnected,’ vanishing without a trace.
With no other recourse, Konehl-Ghervil knew she had to rely solely on her own judgment.
The landscape here was predominantly composed of weathered gravel.
The largest of these stones measured approximately three meters in diameter.
The overall terrain featured gentle slopes, stretching for dozens, even hundreds, of meters, interspersed with undulating gullies of varying sizes. At its apex stood a sheer, five-meter vertical cliff face.
It extended for a considerable distance, forming a formidable barrier of reddish-brown sand and rock.
Partway up the slope, certain rock formations jutted out, creating a space beneath that could, at a stretch, be described as a small cave.
It would offer adequate shelter from both the sandstorms and the relentless sun.
“Quickly, over here!” Ishmele-Esli shouted. “Guess what I’ve discovered?”
Ishmele-Esli, remarkably nimble, scaled the five-meter cliff face without any aid, then waved excitedly from its summit.
“Just tell me!” Konehl-Ghervil called out impatiently.
Unable to ascend, Konehl-Ghervil could only shout up from her position below.
“It’s a town! A small settlement nestled within the desert Gobi, complete with an oasis!”
“More details, please! Its size, the number of buildings, and so forth.”
“It’s too distant to discern clearly!” Ishmele-Esli yelled back. “And it’s too high; I can’t find a way down!”
“What did you say?”
Just as Konehl-Ghervil was about to shout again, she witnessed Ishmele-Esli execute a truly astounding maneuver.
From the five-meter precipice, Ishmele-Esli launched herself into the air.
She leaned back, adopting a skiing-like posture, and glided precisely on the sand and rocks, coming to a halt directly before Konehl-Ghervil.
Amidst a swirl of smoke and dust, Konehl-Ghervil found herself hoisted over Ishmele-Esli’s shoulder.
Her center of gravity shifted, the world spun wildly, and the ground rapidly receded.
Moments later, she found herself standing atop the cliff face.
She imagined a rollercoaster ride must feel something like this.
“Next time you decide to do something like that, could you perhaps ask for my consent first?”
Still reeling from the shock, she smoothed her painstakingly arranged hair and glared at the unfortunate knight.
Then she noticed Ishmele-Esli staring into the distance with a look of astonishment.
“How can this be…?”
Uncertain of what she was seeing, Ishmele-Esli rubbed her eyes and looked again.
Konehl-Ghervil followed her gaze.
Far in the distance, so far that it appeared smaller than her palm when she held her hand out to compare.
It undeniably seemed to be a town and an oasis, yet upon closer inspection, the houses, trees, and lake surface were all inverted and distorted.
“A mirage…”
They spoke in unison.
****
Night fell.
They settled into a small rock cave, five to seven meters deep, nearby.
Dinner consisted of several shriveled sand lizards and two nameless black-skinned snakes.
Konehl-Ghervil, already unable to taste much, didn’t mind anything edible.
She heartily devoured her portion, praising the cooking with a clear conscience, despite her lack of taste.
Buoyed by the compliments, Ishmele-Esli immediately offered to go out with a torch to catch a few more.
Fearing Ishmele-Esli might freeze to death outside, Konehl-Ghervil quickly declared she was already full.
With night temperatures dropping to single digits, Ishmele-Esli huddled close to the fire.
As Konehl-Ghervil didn’t need sleep, she took on the task of keeping the fire burning throughout the night.
“Do you know what I found when I caught the snakes?”
Wrapped in her jacket, Ishmele-Esli sat beside her.
She remained alert, despite being curled into a ball.
“A snake nest.”
“There were baby snakes inside, but I, being benevolent, let them go.”
“Sister Konehl-Ghervil, are you listening?”
Konehl-Ghervil had intended to feign sleep, but she simply couldn’t. She turned over, her back to Ishmele-Esli, and mumbled a perfunctory, “I am listening…”
“I can’t understand how their eggshells were so large, yet the hatched snakes weren’t even enough to fill a tooth gap. And there was only one egg per nest.”
“Otherwise, we could have eaten more…”
‘What kind of snake lays only one egg per nest?’
The more Konehl-Ghervil listened, the more uneasy she felt, worrying that this unlucky individual had stumbled upon something ominous.
She quickly asked if the place where Ishmele-Esli caught the snakes was nearby.
Upon learning it was a forty-minute run away, Konehl-Ghervil finally lay down with a sense of relief.
Half an hour passed, yet she still couldn’t sleep.
The good news was that Ishmele-Esli had gone to gather firewood nearby, offering a moment of quiet, which Konehl-Ghervil hoped to use to drift off.
However, in the rock crevice a few meters behind her, black scales silently slithered past in the faint firelight.