Chapter 29: Shelter

The desert was descending into darkness, the last rays of the sun bleeding orange and purple across the horizon. The air, once blistering, had begun to cool, carrying a biting chill as the heat fled the sands. Shadows stretched long and twisted, swallowing the dunes in an eerie stillness.

Kael's hollow eyes scanned the expanse, their faint, unnatural glow flickering beneath the shadow of his hood. His gaze roamed over the undulating dunes and jagged rock formations, searching for any hint of shelter amid the desolation.

"I don't see any place," the raven said, its voice sharp and restless. It fluttered down from a nearby rock and landed in the sand, talons sinking slightly into the cooling grains.

"Just keep looking," Kael replied, his voice low and unyielding as he took a step forward, the hem of his cloak whispering against the ground.

"Fine," the raven grumbled, hopping a few steps away. It stretched its wings briefly before folding them tightly against its body, ruffling its feathers in frustration.

Kael turned slightly, the motion measured and deliberate. "I'm going to look ahead. I suggest you do the same."

"Oh, okay," the raven muttered, its tone wary. Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, it added, "Wait… I hope you're not trying to leave me behind."

Kael paused, tilting his head with a deliberate slowness that made the raven shift uneasily. His empty sockets locked onto the bird, his stillness unsettling.

"Oh, thanks for giving me the idea. I hadn't thought of that," Kael said, his tone dry and humorless.

"Ehh, don't even think about it!" the raven squawked, hopping in place as if to shake off the tension.

"Suit yourself," Kael said, turning his gaze back to the horizon. "We'll meet here again. Tell me what you find."

The raven sighed, a long, drawn-out sound of resignation. "Fine."

"And try not to get eaten," Kael added, taking another step forward.

"You too," the raven shot back, its tone clipped.

Kael stopped, his skeletal frame straightening slightly. "There's nothing to eat in me."

"What do you mean? You'd be an even bigger meal for a monster," the raven said, cocking its head in confusion.

"Trust me, there's nothing for them to eat," Kael replied evenly, his bony fingers brushing a stray strand of fabric from his cloak.

"Why not?" the raven pressed, hopping closer.

"Because I have no flesh."

The raven froze, tilting its head sharply. "No flesh?" It seemed genuinely taken aback. "But how?"

"Because," Kael said, turning to face the bird fully, the movement causing his cloak to shift, revealing glimpses of his skeletal frame beneath. "I am a skeleton."

"A skeleton?" the raven repeated, its voice pitching higher.

"Yes."

"But—"

"The reason you didn't know," Kael interrupted, gesturing at his cloak, "is because of this. And also don't you think I look almost like a grim reaper?"

"What's a grim reaper?" the raven asked, blinking rapidly.

"You don't know?" Kael's tone carried a faint trace of exasperation.

"No."

"Just forget it," Kael said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "All you need to know is that there's nothing for the monsters to eat in me."

The raven let out a sudden cackle, its laughter breaking the quiet. "That doesn't mean they can't chew bones!"

"Just shut up and get going," Kael snapped, his voice cutting through the night like a blade.

Without waiting for a response, he turned his back on the bird. His cloak billowed slightly as he strode into the encroaching darkness, his skeletal frame melding with the shadows until he disappeared entirely.