Chapter 22: The Dead Beast
'I'm thankful for the clothes and all, but damn it's so hot out here I'm about to tear them off,' Arthur thought, wiping beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. 'Holy crap, I didn't know it was summer in Aragon right now.'
The relentless sun beat down on him from above, turning the monk's robes into a personal oven. It was getting progressively harder for Arthur to maintain his focus and not give in to the roses' siren call as the scorching heat drained his mental fortitude. Every step became an exercise in willpower, his concentration wavering like a flame in the wind.
Thankfully, the sun hung low on the horizon, promising relief in the coming hours. Arthur squinted at the distant skyline, noting how the light had taken on the golden hue of approaching sunset. Nightfall would give him one less discomfort to contend with, though he wondered what new dangers darkness might bring to this already perilous realm.
The field of dead roses stretched endlessly in all directions, a barren wasteland devoid of geographical features. No hills, no valleys, no streams—just an endless carpet of the greyed roses extending to the horizon.
'It's like the whole world is contained in this field,' Arthur mused, his eyes fixed firmly ahead. 'What kind of god needed all this? And why?'
He let his curiosity wander, using his speculations as a shield against the roses' influence.
'From the field of roses and the drawings in the temple, my best guess is some sort of god of nature or something... though nature isn't usually this... monotonous.'
These ponderings helped occupy the spaces in his mind where the roses might otherwise take root, giving him mental refuge as he trudged toward the persistent pull of his realm core. Each step brought him marginally closer to his goal, though the distance remained immeasurable to his senses.
Arthur was so lost in thought, so careful about keeping his gaze lifted, that he nearly missed it—a dark shape lying among the roses directly in his path. He stopped abruptly, his body tensing as instinct flared warning signals through his nervous system.