I laugh and say, “Well then, let’s see what biome awaits us next.”
We make our way to the water’s edge. Once it reaches our waists, Mia climbs onto my back, her arms latching around my shoulders. I push off, propelling us into the last leg of our swim. The ocean’s surface is uncharacteristically still, but I know the Storm Brewer will be dormant for a while after the tempest it made.
Time seems to blur, marked only by the passage of the sun overhead and the gradual ache building in my muscles. But just as I begin to wonder how much farther we must travel, something on the horizon catches my eye. Squinting against the glare of the sun, I realize with a start that it is land—blessed, solid ground rising up to meet the sea.
Excitement surges through me, and I redouble my efforts, eager to reach our destination. “Mia, look,” I call over my shoulder, my voice rough with exertion. “We’re almost there.”
I feel her shift against me, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the shoreline. A breathless laugh escapes her lips, the sound pure and joyful. “I see it!”
Her elation is contagious, and I grin as I propel us forward. The water grows shallower, and soon I am able to stand, Mia sliding from my back to splash into the surf beside me. Hand in hand, we wade ashore, but what greets us isn’t the expected warm sand, but rather, a frozen tundra.
The frozen shore stretches before us, a glittering expanse under the pale sun. I slide gracefully onto the snow-covered ground, feeling the chill immediately bite at my scales. Mia’s teeth start chattering as she huddles close to me. I wrap my tail around her protectively, a shield against the cold, and we stand together, surveying this desolate landscape.
The beach is devoid of tracks, and I sense no sign of Vornas or any other threat. With a subtle flick of my tail, I obscure our own tracks, ensuring our passage remains unknown. The final biomes of the Loop are renowned for their treachery, and I know that surviving this tundra will require all my skills and vigilance.
As we trek through the deep snow, a peculiar sight catches my eye. In the distance, a plume of steam rises, twisting and curling as it ascends toward the pale sky.
We draw closer, and soon I realize it’s a geyser. The area surrounding it is lush with vegetation, vibrant greens and earthy browns that stand in stark contrast to the icy expanse that stretches out in every direction.
“Look,” I say, pointing to the oasis. “We can warm up there before we continue on.”
She nods, her teeth chattering too much for her to speak. We hurry toward the geyser, our pace quickening with the promise of respite. As we step into the verdant haven, the temperature change is immediate, the air warm and humid against our skin.
Mia sighs in relief, rubbing her hands together as the color slowly returns to her cheeks. She looks around, awestruck by the green grass and the steam rising from the bubbling pools. “I sure hope this isn’t the only oasis in this biome.”
I observe the geyser as it shoots out a plume of steam. “This can’t be the only one. If there is underground pressure, it’s likely that there are multiple release points, not just a single vent. I’d wager there are other hidden oases scattered throughout.”
Mia nods, her brow furrowed in thought. “So, then our plan is to find these oases as we go, warm up, then get back out in the cold?”
“Exactly,” I confirm. “But we’ll need to be strategic about it. The distance between each one could be significant, and we don’t want to be in these elements for too long.”
As we bask in the warmth of the oasis, I forage for sustenance, plucking ripe fruit from a nearby tree. The sweet flesh melts on my tongue, a welcome respite from our grueling journey.
While Mia savors her share, I gather large leaves and sturdy grass, weaving them into makeshift coverings for her feet. My fingers work deftly, creating a barrier between her delicate skin and the frozen ground that awaits us.
“Here,” I say, offering her the crude but functional footwear. “These should provide some protection against the cold.”
Mia slips them on, wiggling her toes experimentally. A small smile of gratitude plays on her lips, warming me more than the geothermal heat ever could.
But as much as I’d like to linger, I know we must press on. The longer we stay in one place, the greater the risk of Vornas catching up to us. We had every advantage in the ocean biome, but here, we are equally matched, and he could easily be upon us before we know it.
The day wears on as we travel, and we manage to find oases every hour or so, each one a welcome respite from the biting cold.
But as the sun dims, the temperature drops even lower, with no sign of another geyser. Mia shivers beside me, her teeth chattering audibly.
“K-Krakenos,” she stammers, her voice tight with cold. “We n-need to find somewhere to s-stop for the night.”
I nod, scanning the horizon for any sign of steam or greenery, but there’s nothing. Just an endless expanse of white, broken only by the occasional jagged rock formation.
“We’ll find something,” I assure her, trying to keep the growing concern from my voice. “Just a little further.”
But as the last of the light fades from the sky, I realize we may be in trouble. The cold is bone deep now, and even I am beginning to feel its effects. Mia stumbles beside me, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated.
“Mia, stay with me,” I urge, wrapping an arm around her waist to support her. “We have to keep moving.”
She nods, but her fatigue is clear. We push on, battling the whipping snow that threatens to bury us, and our progress slows to an arduous crawl.
The biting cold seeps into every scale, and even my aquatic physiology, typically resistant to extreme temperatures, struggles against this merciless chill. I know that if it’s difficult for me, then Mia, with her human fragility, is faring far worse. We must find the next oasis, and fast.
A metallic clatter behind us catches my attention. I turn to see one of the ever-present drones plummet from the sky, its mechanisms frozen and failing. Another follows, then another, their egg-shaped bodies disappearing into the deepening snow.
“Even the drones can’t handle this cold,” I mutter over the howling wind.
Mia’s reply is a mere whisper, her lips blue and trembling. “If m-machines are freezing… What chance do w-we have?”
She is most certainly right, but before despair can settle in my chest, I catch sight of a dark smudge against the white landscape. As we draw nearer, the smudge takes form—a cave, its gaping mouth offering us sanctuary from the relentless cold.
“There,” I say. “We’ll rest there for the night.”
Mia doesn’t reply, her head lolling against my shoulder. I sweep her into my arms, my heart lurching at how icy her skin has become. Cradling her close, I quicken my pace, striding toward the cave with purpose.
Mia’s body is cold as ice in my arms. I half-run, half-stumble into the cave’s mouth, kicking snow from my feet as I go.
I lay her against a wall. “We need to get you warm,” I say, though I worry she can’t hear me.
I scan the cave, spotting dried moss and sticks on the ground. There’s a small chance, I think, dropping to my knees and sifting through the debris. I search for something—anything—that might catch a flame. My fingers close around a piece of flint. It’s not perfect, but it will have to do.
I get to work, clearing a space in the center of the cave and arranging the sticks and moss into a small pile. With a few strikes of the flint, I create a spark, and the dry material catches light. I blow gently, making the flames grow higher.
Soon, a fire blazes before us. Mia’s eyes flutter open, and I pull her closer to the flickering light. She stares into the flames, her eyes half-lidded. “T-thank you,” she whispers.
I know warmth alone won’t be enough for her to recover. She needs sustenance. I stand, scanning the cave walls for anything edible. I notice a cluster of strange, iridescent clams clinging to the damp rock. I approach cautiously, prying one free with my knife.
I sniff tentatively at the creature inside. No acrid scent of poison. With a silent prayer to the gods, I place one of the clams on a flat stone near the fire’s edge, letting the heat simmer the flesh. The shell pops and sizzles, releasing a savory aroma into the air.
Once it seems fully cooked, I extract the meat and place it on my tongue, testing it for any hint of poison or danger. The flavor is briny, but not unpleasant. I swallow and wait, assessing my body for any ill effects. When none come, I harvest the rest of the clams and cook them in the same manner.
I return to Mia’s side and offer her the strange bounty, now steaming and fragrant. She takes one hesitantly, eyeing it with suspicion. But hunger wins out, and she takes a tentative bite.
“It’s… actually really good,” she says, reaching for another, and soon the both of us are eating to our hearts’ content.
As the last morsel disappears, a contented silence settles over us. Mia leans back, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I feel… almost human again,” she murmurs, and I chuckle at the irony of her statement. For a moment, the weight of our predicament seems to lift, replaced by a shared sense of relief and gratitude for this simple pleasure amid the chaos.
As the fire crackles and pops, casting shadows on the cave walls, I watch Mia’s face. The warm glow softens her features, highlighting the gentle curve of her cheek and the flecks of gold in her eyes. Time seems to slow, each moment stretching as we bask in the newfound warmth and safety.
Eventually, Mia breaks the comfortable silence. Her voice is barely above a whisper, as if she’s afraid to shatter the peace we’ve found. “You know, I never really allowed myself to think about it before, but…” She pauses, swallowing hard. “I honestly didn’t believe I’d make it out of here alive. Being trapped in this place… It’s a constant reminder that Earth might as well be in another universe.”
