Then, carefully, she placed everything inside: the onions, garlic, ginger, every useful root and herb she had gathered. Some meat and jerky too, just in case. She layered it with more leaves—one after another until the scent was muffled and the contents hidden.
Finally, she packed it all in with soil, then sand. And on top of it, she rolled over a large, oddly shaped stone. It stuck out enough that she’d remember it, but not enough to draw attention.
She stood there for a moment, hands on her hips.
"Lets get out of here".
After stepping out of the cave, Kaya dusted off her hands, squinted up at the sky, and gave a satisfied smile. Then she turned to Vayu with a glint in her eyes and said, "Do it."
Vayu—lean, silent, and perpetually unimpressed—raised a brow. "You really think I can do anything?"
Kaya rolled her eyes. "Nah. I know you’re useless," she said, patting his arm like one would console a sulking pet. "But with that ridiculously huge body of yours, at least be my bulldozer."
The snake narrowed his eyes at her, sighed long and hard like someone carrying the weight of everyone’s stupidity, and finally gave in. With a sharp twist, his form shimmered—and then expanded. Bones cracked, scales stretched, and in moments, the sleek man was gone, replaced by the enormous serpent she had grown oddly fond of.
He slithered forward, coiled his massive body, and with a single swipe of his tail, he knocked a huge stone from the side and rolled it right in front of the cave entrance. The earth rumbled slightly as it settled into place, perfectly sealing the opening.
Kaya gave an approving nod. "Good," she murmured, almost to herself, before giving his scaly side a firm pat like she was checking off a task from a list.
As she turned to walk away, Vayu—still in his serpent form—looked back at her. There was no real irritation in his voice when he muttered, "I cannot believe this. This woman... What the hell is she?"
After that, Kaya began walking in the direction the snake claimed led to the ocean. But there was no way in hell she was going alone—not with strangers who looked way too calm for her liking. So, she shoved the snake to the front. If anyone was going to get eaten or ambushed first, it wasn’t going to be her.
Her gun, now properly loaded, rested at her waist. This time, she made sure it was placed where she could pull, aim, and fire without wasting a single second. No more playing nice. Trust? That word had long left her vocabulary.
At first, the journey seemed uneventful. The forest stretched endlessly around them, looking exactly the same as it had the day before... and the day before that. Trees, bushes, weird bird noises. Rinse and repeat.
They walked. And walked.
And walked.
And walked.
By the third day, Kaya was done. Her patience, already fragile, was wearing thin. She kicked at a random branch, muttering under her breath, "What kind of cursed forest doesn’t end? Is this some twisted loop?"
If there really was an ocean, it was either a myth or playing hide-and-seek with her sanity.
But then came the fourth day. Something shifted. Kaya paused mid-step and looked down. The soil was different—looser, grainier. Sandy, almost. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
By the fifth day, the earth beneath her boots was full-on sand. Dry, warm, and clinging to her steps like it had been waiting for her all along. And above it all, there was light—not the filtered light through trees, but open, blinding, horizon-kissing light.
And finally, on the sixth day—after countless steps, a whole lot of cursing, and the snake nearly getting shot twice—they stood before it.
The sea.
Kaya had seen sea before.
Not many, but enough to know what to expect. She’d walked along the shores in Hawaii once, stood by the water in distant places during her travels. The sea had always been vast, always loud. But never beautiful. At least, not in the way people romanticized it.
To her, the ocean had always been just the sea. Big. Restless. Sometimes cruel. Sometimes calm. But never something that moved her.
Until now.
The sight in front of her made her pause mid-step. The sea here wasn’t just water meeting the horizon—it was something else entirely. The sunlight touched its surface in a way that made it shimmer like gold, as if the sea itself was breathing light. It wasn’t just beautiful. It was breathtaking.
She didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stood there for a while, watching. Letting herself feel something she hadn’t expected to feel.
The sand beneath her feet was green—not the green of algae or mold, but a soft, muted tone, almost velvety. The texture was smooth, clean. Unfamiliar. In her world, beaches were scattered with footprints, littered with forgotten wrappers and broken pieces of plastic. Even the most maintained shores always had something hidden beneath the surface.
But here... there was nothing.
No garbage. No sound of people. No heavy scent of oil or chemicals. Just wind. Waves. Light.
Maybe it was the absence of pollution. Maybe it was the quiet. Or maybe it was simply because this place had never been touched by the world she came from.
Kaya took a few slow steps forward. The breeze brushed against her face, soft and cool, carrying the faint scent of salt and something wild, untouched.
She looked out at the endless stretch of water, her chest tightening for reasons she couldn’t explain. It didn’t feel like fear. Nor was it joy. It was something deeper—a quiet recognition.
For the first time, she saw the sea not as something vast and indifferent, but as something alive. And incredibly beautiful.
Suddenly, Kaya’s legs gave out beneath her.
Without warning, her knees buckled, and she stumbled forward. If not for her quick reflexes—her hands instinctively shooting out to brace herself—she would have hit the ground face-first.