The very instant Vanna’s eyes landed on the scene before her, a rush of tension surged throughout her body. Every nerve was electrified, every muscle primed, as she locked her gaze onto a vast silhouette gradually taking form amidst the curling whirls of dust and mist. She was set, ready to spring into action should the situation demand it.
However, slicing through the sandy haze that billowed around her, a serene and measured voice reached out. It remarked, “Ah, a traveler. It’s been an age since I’ve met someone unfamiliar in these parts.”
A wave of surprise briefly washed over Vanna. In the succeeding moments, as the swirling curtains of dust began to settle, the figure fully revealed itself. Towering before her was a being akin to the giants of lore. This entity dwarfed her, standing an astounding four to five meters tall. Vanna had to tilt her head considerably upward just to glimpse its face. Covering its formidable frame was a cloak of the darkest shades, bearing a resemblance to frayed fabric. This garment, which perhaps once showcased grandeur, now bore the scars of wear and tear, a testament to countless battles against the elements. The physique of the giant itself seemed gaunt, as if long journeys had sapped its strength, but its thin fingers held an enormous staff with surprising firmness.
The staff, even in the colossal grip of the giant, looked unyieldingly heavy. Its main shaft had the likeness of a rigid tree trunk, segmented in parts, while its top bulged out like an immense, uneven stone. Its entire surface was decorated with a plethora of delicate yet cryptic designs.
Almost involuntarily, Vanna’s eyes were drawn to the staff. It wasn’t just a simple walking aid; it felt more like a formidable weapon or possibly a sacred relic that commanded deep respect. A reverence that she felt stirring in her own heart.
Her attention, however, was soon recaptured by the giant.
Leaning slightly toward her, the massive entity studied Vanna with an air of gentleness. His facial features, though defined, held a stark, almost sculpted quality, as if carved from the hardest rock. The eyes that peered down at her were a deep shade of hazel, and deep within, they seemed to flicker and dance like candle flames, bestowing upon Vanna a sensation of immense gravity.
“Traveler, whence do you hail?” the giant’s voice rumbled.
The very act of him speaking seemed to influence the desert itself. The winds, picking up in fervor, twisted and turned around Vanna. Miraculously, she remained untouched by even the tiniest grain of sand.
Struggling internally to remain steady and to regulate her racing heart, Vanna swiftly communicated the bewildering developments to her captain using their deep-rooted mental bond. Collecting herself and marshaling her thoughts, she responded, “I hail from lands that lie beyond this vast desert, from places distant and unknown. I am perplexed as to my presence here. Pray tell, who might you be?”
“Oh, from regions beyond this barren wasteland…” The giant mused, his voice echoing softly as he acknowledged her words. His gaze was deep, reflecting an eternity of memories as he continued, “This world has transformed into a seemingly boundless desert over the ages.” While he took in Vanna’s words, he skillfully evaded her direct question. Instead, his tone, laden with reminiscence, conveyed more than his words did, “You are a fascinating being, traveler. There’s an essence about you that feels unlike the mortals of my memories. Yet, perhaps my recollections betray me, for it has been eons since I last interacted with an outsider.”
Unlike the mortals of his past?
A rush of anxiety gripped Vanna’s chest. She pondered what could set her apart from regular mortals in the giant’s eyes. Could he somehow perceive the rare gift she had been granted from the depths of subspace – the miraculous ability to resurrect due to her uncle’s pleading?
Before she could delve deeper into this mystery, the giant resumed his inquiry, “You spoke of originating from a distant realm. Just how distant is it? Did your journey span across the vastness of space, or perhaps, did it cut through the fabric of time?”
Caught off guard, Vanna hesitated, her brows knitting in perplexity.
What could he possibly infer from such a query?
Seeking clarity, she looked straight into the giant’s hazy, profound eyes, “Your question is rather… obscure. I’m not entirely sure what you’re getting at.”
The giant sighed, his voice taking on a note of resignation, “Forget I ever posed the question then, traveler. Maybe the beginning of a journey is as inconsequential as its ending.” But just as quickly, his demeanor shifted, and with a glint of intrigue, he asked, “Are you, by any chance, conversing with someone else right now?”
Stunned, and in the middle of mentally updating her captain, Vanna momentarily lost her composure. Although she strived to maintain an inscrutable facade, she worried that her flicker of hesitation might’ve betrayed her to the keen-eyed behemoth.
Nevertheless, the giant’s query appeared casual, even nonchalant, as though he didn’t expect a truthful response. He offered a dismissive shrug, “If you opt to remain silent, I understand. Every being holds their own secrets.”
Regaining her footing, Vanna studied the giant’s every gesture and nuance. With renewed determination, she ventured to ask once more, “Can you tell me who you are?”
“You’re seeking my name?” The giant paused, genuinely contemplating her question. After a momentary silence, he replied with a hint of melancholy, “Time has eroded so much. I can’t seem to recall… It’s truly been ages.”
His piercing gaze met Vanna’s, and the lines on his timeworn face deepened, resembling age-old carvings on a monument. “You see, traveler, in a world devoid of other voices, the significance of a ‘name’ dwindles. When no soul remembers or calls out to you, and you no longer need to present yourself, your own name begins to fade. It becomes another casualty, forgotten, as the world slowly relinquishes its hold on you…”
He stood still for a moment, a distant look in his eyes as if the sands of time were flowing backward, enveloping him in ancient recollections. The weight of countless eras seemed to press upon his massive frame, and his countenance took on an introspective hue. Returning from the depths of his memories, his voice rolled out, rich and full-bodied, “Though my name has become a fleeting whisper, there are still fragments of my past that remain crystal clear. Long ago, the inhabitants of this land revered me as one of their gods. This realm you now behold as an arid desert once thrived in an entirely different form.”
Vanna’s eyes were wide, and her pulse quickened. Among the myriad theories she had conjured regarding this mysterious giant, the idea of him being a god was far from her considerations. She grappled with her emotions, a whirlwind of disbelief, awe, and skepticism.
The irony of the situation was palpable. As a devout disciple of the storm goddess Gomona and an esteemed priestess of the Storm Church—one of the renowned divine orders—she was now ensconced in the mysterious aura of an unfamiliar being, confronting a figure who announced himself as a deity. By the tenets of her faith and her position as a spiritual adjudicator, she would be expected to stand in judgment against this self-professed god.
Yet, the experiences aboard the Vanished had taught her to navigate the unfathomable with a tempered disposition, balancing curiosity with caution.
“You present yourself as a god?” Vanna queried, her voice imbued with a mix of caution and intrigue. “Who were ‘they’ you spoke of earlier? And where exactly do we stand now?”
The giant’s reply was layered with melancholy. “They were the denizens of this realm,” he began, gently gesturing with his monumental staff towards the endless desert. “But those times… they either seem distant as if lost in the annals of time, or paradoxically, as though they occurred just a blink ago.”
A momentary confusion seemed to cloud the giant’s thoughts. He stared intently at the staff he held as if it held the keys to his elusive memories. After what seemed like an eternity, he sighed deeply, “Time has played a perplexing game with me. It elongated, stretching endlessly, only to coil back suddenly. The precise chronology eludes me. However, I vividly recall this region being the epicenter of a mighty empire. What you perceive as an ocean of sand was once a tapestry of dense woods and verdant meadows. Majestic aqueducts crisscrossed the terrain, directing waters from elevated sources cascading down the undulating hillsides. These very grounds bore witness to the rise of magnificent white citadels, interconnected by great walls, spires emerging from the foliage, and luminous beacons piercing the nocturnal expanse… The splendor, I can assure you, was unparalleled.”
The behemoth’s manner of speaking was deliberate and drawn out. His extended solitude seemed to have dulled his facility for seamless conversation. His utterances, at times, felt like a jigsaw puzzle with pieces awry, akin to the ramblings of one deep within a trance. Vanna had to diligently piece together his fractured narrative, striving to decode the intended messages. As he spun tales of a bygone era, she endeavored to visualize an erstwhile verdant world drastically distinct from the current barren desert.
Abruptly, the giant’s discourse ceased. He angled his massive head down, regarding Vanna with an unmistakable spark of intrigue, “And you, traveler of this world, who might you be? Do you possess a name?”
A fleeting pause. Vanna’s mouth tightened instinctively. A reflexive retort loomed on the tip of her tongue, but she withheld. In this unfamiliar territory, divulging one’s true identity to an unknown being, particularly one asserting divine status, could be fraught with risk.
The notion that entities of immense might could inadvertently alter a mortal’s destiny, regardless of their benevolence or malevolence, had deeply resonated with Vanna ever since she had allied with the captain.
After a contemplative pause, she replied guardedly, “I’m Vannessa. I don’t belong to any distinguished lineage or hold significant titles. Merely a wayfarer, lost in this vastness.”
“Vannessa…” the giant echoed, rolling the name gently over his tongue before shaking his head in subtle contradiction, “No, that’s not the essence of your true identity.”
A jolt of anxiety coursed through Vanna.
Nevertheless, the giant dismissed it with a gracious wave, “It’s inconsequential. As previously mentioned, all beings harbor their own concealed truths. If you prefer to shroud your real name, I’ll continue addressing you as ‘Traveler.’ Given that we’re the sole occupants of this desolate world, there’s little risk of a mistaken identity.”
With a fleeting glance of chagrin, Vanna signaled her assent with a slight nod.
“Traveler,” the giant proceeded, “to which place do you set your sights upon?”
Vanna’s eyes inadvertently strayed to a distant outline, bearing semblance to ancient city ruins.
Observing her line of sight, the giant extended a friendly proposition, “Why not accompany me on this expedition? Though my memory of this realm’s intricate tapestry has eroded, vestiges of its grandeur persist.”
Vanna remained contemplative as if awaiting an external cue.
Shortly thereafter, a familiar voice reverberated within her psyche, emanating from her profound bond with the captain.
“Trust his guidance.”
Affirming the directive, Vanna raised her gaze to meet the colossal deity’s eyes, “It would indeed be a privilege to journey alongside you.”
