The wind screamed outside the crumbling temple walls, kicking up waves of golden sand. Three robed figures materialized from the dust like nightmares on parade — mounted atop skeletal, shadow-warped beasts that looked like someone had murdered a camel and cursed it into existence.
Zane stood just inside the entrance, shadows lazily coiling around his shoulders like a cape. The green-haired archer was still tied up behind him, glaring daggers through her hood.
As the storm closed in, Nyx muttered, "We could still run, you know."
Link floated beside Zane's ear. "Or we could negotiate. By 'we,' I mean you. You're the one with a face and vocal cords."
Zane raised his hand.
His voice cut through the roaring wind. The mounted figures slowed, sand swirling around them in spirals, their glowing eyes narrowing beneath their hoods.
"I know what this is," Zane called out, squinting through the storm. "You're here to kill me. Standard cult drama. Maybe toss in some spooky threats, scream something about balance and chaos, I get it."
He held the 't' long enough that even Link sighed audibly.
"—we both know you can't actually kill me."
The wind paused. Even the desert seemed confused.
Zane smirked. "Not because I'm all-powerful. Yet. But because you really want this girl back," he gestured behind him with his thumb, "and I'm the only one not currently trying to make her shadow punch herself in the face."
The green-haired girl grunted, "Still not possible!"
He stepped forward, one boot crunching dramatically on the sand. "So. Here's what we're gonna do."
The cultists stirred. A low growl echoed from one of the beasts.
Zane raised both hands. "I'll give her back. No blood, no big scary magic showdown. You walk away, I walk away, everyone lives to be weird again another day."
"But!" he added, raising a single finger again. "One condition."
The wind howled dramatically, as if nature itself leaned in to hear.
Zane took a deep breath, eyes narrowing seriously.
"...How the hell did a perfectly healthy tree grow in the middle of the freaking desert?"
Nyx slapped her forehead. Link audibly groaned.
One of the cultists leaned toward the other. "Is he serious?"
The middle one — probably the leader — raised a hand to stop his ally, then slowly dismounted his beast and stepped forward, cloak fluttering in the wind. His voice came out raspy and oddly calm.
"You kidnapped our agent... to ask about botany?"
Zane didn't blink. "Yes. And I want details. Species. Water source. Maybe a little backstory on how she climbed it so dramatically."
The cultist was silent.
The green-haired girl behind him muttered, "I swear I'm going to stab you the moment I'm untied."
Zane didn't break eye contact. "Answer the question and I might let you stab me just a little."
The cult leader exhaled.
"...It's an illusion spell. We plant one near every ambush zone. To blend in. Fool the eyes."
"Oh. That's... actually kind of smart."
Link floated past, arms folded. "You risked three cult elites and a hostage situation to interrogate someone about fake desert gardening."
Zane turned around, satisfied. "Okay. I'm done here. You can take her now."
The green-haired girl blinked. "Wait, seriously?"
He snapped his fingers, and the shadow ropes unwrapped like obedient snakes.
She stumbled to her feet, brushing herself off. "You are infuriatingly stupid."
Zane beamed. "Yet alive."
As the cultists regrouped and helped their comrade onto one of the nightmare-camels, the leader paused one last time.
"You'll regret this, Voidborn."
Zane shrugged. "I regret a lot of things. That fake tree? Not one of them."
The cult vanished into the storm.
Link whispered, "So uh... we gonna tell him we actually could've fought them?"
Zane stretched. "Nah. Sometimes questions are more powerful than swords."
Nyx muttered, "That was the dumbest standoff in history."
Zane: "And yet, victory."