It didn't take Faruzan long to realise how little the Akademiya and herself knew of the old desert civilization. King Deshret's ruins were fascinating, yes. And also incredibly dangerous. Even after Buer lost all her memories and wisdom, the ruins remained a taboo even amongst the most ardent explorers. By the time Faruzan had become a proper Scholar, that taboo had finally been broken.
Though not the first, Faruzan had the most successes. A true linguist, Faruzan had unravelled many previously undecipherable words and sentences and discovered that the Ancient tongue was an ergative–absolutive language. She had dabbled into many other theories as well, but for that, she needed more examples.
That's why she wandered towards a previously unknown area. Faruzan was the leading figure in Haravatat studies, the teacher young students looked up to. If anyone could notice a trap before it even activated, it had to be her.
That hubris blinded her.
Stumbling into an old ruin, she had become trapped inside it. She couldn't exactly recall how. Or where she was.
It was only the chamber. No doors, paths, halls or anything. A simple, wide room with four columns supporting the ceiling. She could travel its width in ten steps. The only source of light was the torch she had carried. The walls were mostly bare, with few words carved into them. The columns had more words, but none she could properly understand. Overall, it was a sober room. Nothing exciting or exotic about it. A limestone room. That was it.
The trap it contained was also simple. A stasis trap.
She was completely conscious, but her body remained in stasis. There was no hunger, no pain or pleasure. She tried burning her hands with the torch, yet it didn't give any type of heat. Like her, the flame couldn't be turned off, and it couldn't hurt her. The torch's source of light was in stasis like her body. Her physique moved and didn't tire. Her voice resonated and never strained. But her mind couldn't do so. It was thought after thought, feeling completely exhausted yet unable to stop. Sleep was as impossible as resolving the puzzle of escaping. Beating the trap was the only way to escape this hell.
With the few materials she had brought, little more than ink and paper, Faruzan recorded each step on the journey to decipher the trap's designs. Her mind, devoid of any feeling besides thinking, could only afford to keep itself occupied with the ever-declining chances of escaping.
How did she manage to get trapped? She couldn't remember anymore. Only walls of indecipherable glyphs and phonetics ran through her mind. Common language became but an afterthought, something she only noticed after months of perseverating in the endless contraption keeping her bound to the room.
The nature of the chamber also became clear. Although originally not meant to be used while conscious, this specific room was. Faruzan gathered that it was originally meant for patients of an unknown disease, such as Eleazar. The disease would not worsen as long as the patient was kept asleep and in stasis until a cure could be found. Yet, if used on a conscious individual, it would turn into a punishment. A torture chamber, meant to whittle down even the strongest of minds. Devoid of feeling, even the sanest minds would go mad.
Faruzan was no exception.
After the first few years of her prison, she became aware of that lingering thought in her mind. Crestfallen about her abilities. Or, perhaps, about someone. She decided, to shield her own mind from needless pain, that this had not been her fault. Faruzan was a genius, after all. She wouldn't have just… wandered into a clever trap made by someone centuries ago. Somebody trapped her there. That's what she lied herself into. Perhaps somebody would catch such a fiend, and liberate her from this chamber. That lie felt comforting for a few days or weeks.
Not long after, she stopped believing that lie. And the numb feeling of despair took her over completely.
Another unknown amount of time passed and consistent thoughts ceased. She ran out of paper to write, of floor to scratch words into. The walls and the writing of the ancient civilization mocked her. There was nothing to feel, nothing to taste and only the same walls to think about. On the last bit of the floor, she gave a few final thoughts. Perhaps all her trouble would help someone outside to learn how to escape if they ever found themselves trapped. In the end, she wrote her name and returned to the middle of the room.
Nobody outside even knew where she was. Perhaps they didn't care either.
And if they didn't care, she didn't need to either.
What exactly occurred for Faruzan's mind to snap and become completely numb? She believed that moment to be it. When it happened, she didn't know. Her mind kept working, her body moving, but she was not aware of her actions anymore. Sometimes, she'd find herself laying down on the floor. Other times, she hit her head against the walls only to feel no pain. The pencil she carried bounced off her skin. The only thing she could do was try to escape.
In those agonising years, she longed for anything to keep going. Her mind protected itself by projecting hallucinations. Any kind. Something to stimulate her existence. On lucky moments, Faruzan saw herself back in her classes, teaching young students about the enigma of language. Other times, her mother and father brought her home after finding her on a rainy day. On more awful days, shapeless forms harassed her and tried to hurt her. Whether good or not bad, those hallucinations were the only source of emotion after an unaccountable amount of years.
Yet besides a fabricated joy, sadness and terror, her mind didn't replicate anything that could awaken her psyche.
And then.
Cold.
Her mind, again, was playing tricks to keep her aware. That coldness was a lie. As well as the warmth she was feeling on her chest. Her eyes were open, but they weren't watching anything. For that reason, it took her a few minutes to see that the background was actually shifting.
She was somewhere in the cold, dark desert.
Now, it recreated wind. Another foolish attempt by her mind to try and maintain sanity. The wind felt so cold and dry, never before had she felt a wind so biting. Or perhaps she had. Her hallucinations were getting stronger, it seemed.
Something entered her left eye. A grain of sand? Was this the best her mind could offer? So quaint. And… odd… The sensation in her eye burned. As if… she was in pain. Was this how pain felt like? Her memory was too fuzzy to recall.
Regardless, she blinked and rubbed her eyes against the warmth in front of her. And once she closed her eyes, they did not open again. A hundred years of exhaustion didn't allow her to do so. Instead, she slept for the first time in a century.
Faruzan opened her eyes after what seemed like an eternity. The illusion didn't seem to stop. Up above, the ceiling of the room trapping her had disappeared. Instead, she was staring at… a hat of sorts and the stars above. That was not the only irregularity. A soft and warm touch filled her whole body. A bedroll, it seemed. Not only that, she felt somewhat rested and hungry.
She didn't want to make up false premises, so she chose to slowly move out of the bedroll and looked around her location.
The sky above was dark, displaying constellations she hadn't seen in years. And the cold, biting wind of the desert pushed her to return to the safety of the bedroll. The warmth and crackling of the campfire seemed real as well. Everything pointed to a hollow yet real truth. She had somehow escaped. That couldn't be. How come she didn't remember what happened? This had to be an illusion, and she knew how to prove it.
Without a hint of fear, she kneeled next to the campfire and extended her hand over the fire. It had to be the torch she had carried, and it wouldn't hurt her even if she grabbed the flames. That confidence quickly dropped as the heat increased. And then…
"Are you stupid?" Someone suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her back. A wanderer, it seemed, with a scowl that could kill a dozen people. That didn't matter, however.
His grip was so strong that her arm was bruised almost immediately. And that pain, though clearly hurting, brought her immense joy. As such, she didn't even scrutinise the odd Inazuman clothes of the Wanderer or his pejorative comment before. This wasn't an illusion. She had escaped!
Faruzan wiggled her arm out of his grip and laughed in joy. She touched her face, her arms and her torso, and they all felt cold! This meant her sense of touch was back! And her skin was so tickly, it almost hurt to touch! So many years without any real sensation, and even the faintest of caresses were unbelievably strong!
The moment touch returned, her hands quickly brushed her own hair. It was still as silky as ever, just like the last time she touched it. So many emotions swirled inside her, that they overwhelmed her mind. And so the laughter turned into sobs as she cried her eyes out, still reeling from the shock and joy of freedom.
"Here." She barely registered the voice handing her a handkerchief.
And the cloth of the tissue just felt so good as well? Faruzan could barely even recall having such strong feelings over a piece of cloth? So incredible! Life truly was marvellous! She could even tell the fibres of the lousy material!
"So you are stupid. Use it for your tears." The voice beckoned, but she couldn't do so. She was too overwhelmed with emotion that she just kept stroking the tissue. "The things I have to…"
The man forcefully took back the tissue and cleaned her tears from her cheeks, eyes and everywhere they shed. The first interaction with another human being simply forced her to her knees but managed to slowly fizzle out the tears.
"You done?"
Finally, Faruzan managed to turn and observe the man accompanying her. The first thing she noticed was that if his glare could kill, she'd be dead tenfold. But besides his frightening scowl, the man's overall demeanour seemed meek and delicate. As if he had been moulded to seem unintimidating by default, even if he tried to hide it.
Of course, while the world itself wasn't an illusion, perhaps this man was. Maybe she hurt herself in the arm beforehand, and no real human touched it.
So her hand poked the man's face once. And then he slapped away her hand. He seemed pretty real.
"The hell are you doing?"
Faruzan mumbled an answer, having forgotten how to speak for a fraction of a second. Then, her mind made the connections and rewired her speech.
"…How long has it been?" She asked, pulling rubbing her hand and turning towards her host. "What year is it?"
As if the question carried idiocy concentrated, the Wanderer grimaced and held back a sigh. He took a moment to answer, which only furthered Faruzan's impatience. And his answer was not any better.
"It's been one hundred… Amusing joke, but I do not find it funny."
"I presented you the facts, at some point you'll accept them." The Wanderer retorted, turning towards the bedroll. There was a small rock beside it, where he had been sitting previously. "I found you ambling through the desert in a daze. You've slept for an entire day or so." He sat back down. "You should not eat hallucinogens in such a hostile environment."
Her first contact with another human being in years, and he was a completely disrespectful brat.
"Excuse me? I am a distinguished Haravatat scholar, not an intoxicated fool. You must have found me near the ruins I was investigating." Faruzan's answer didn't seem to faze the Wanderer in the slightest, as he sat on the very same rock beside the bedroll.
"You can't travel two paces without stumbling into ruins. It would be more surprising to not find you near one." He motioned her to move. "You're blocking the heat, Twintails. Move aside."
Faruzan looked at the campfire behind her and begrudgingly stepped aside. Without much interest to argue, she kneeled next to the fire and enjoyed its warmth. A sensation she had long forgotten.
In that moment of solace, realisation reappeared in her mind. She had really left. This was no illusion. Yet, had it been a hundred years? She was aware that some years had passed, but she didn't put it past ten. Then that meant nobody came looking for her. Or if they did, they never found her.
And though happy with managing to solve that dreaded puzzle, she now felt an insurmountable emptiness inside. It was the shock, she decided. Once she reached Sumeru City, she'd calm down and try to reorganise her thoughts. She just needed time… the time she had been stolen by those ruins.
"Twintails," Faruzan looked back, just in time to catch the flying canteen. "Drink up." She warily looked at the metallic bottle. "It's just water. Or you can dehydrate yourself to death, see if I care."
Accepting that she had been too distrustful, she unscrewed the cap and took a sip. Water. It was cold, mostly tasteless with a hint of iron. Yet, after so many years, she had forgotten how it felt like. The sip became a gulp, and then another one and another one. This was bad. Drinking so much in so little time would end up hunting her. But her mind craved stimulus, and so she couldn't stop. She would have drunk the whole bottle if the odd Wanderer hadn't stopped her.
"You're a lemming jumping off a cliff. Drink more carefully!" He forcefully took the bottle off her hands, before placing something wrapped in leaves in exchange. "Try not to choke on this. It's some overburnt bun that tastes like garbage. Considering the circumstances, you'll like it anyways."
Unwrapping the leaves, the mystery food was none other than three Charcoal-baked ajilenakh cakes. The aroma of the nutty interior immediately made her salivate. Mustering the strongest of wills, she merely took a bite from one of them. The first food in a century tasted… delicious. Perhaps it was the sugar, the nuts, or the delicate texture of the interior. But before she knew it, she had eaten every single one.
Wanderer gave her back the water canteen, though this time she restrained herself to a few sips.
After that high stimulus, she came down hard. She looked at her forearm, where the Wanderer had grabbed her. There was no bruise like she believed. Her mind was too hyperaware of everything, and even the menial strength he used on her arm felt overbearing.
Even away from the stasis chamber, its ghosts still haunted her.
And worst of all. A hundred years had passed. Everyone she knew. All family she had. They were all gone now. Everyone must have thought she died back then. And now, nobody was left.
"What's with that upset expression? I told you it was garbage, yet you ate it up like a pig." He filled the silence, taking back the canteen again. "If you're going to puke, do it somewhere else. I'm not cleaning that up."
Those words fell on deaf ears. Faruzan hugged her legs and hid her face on her knees. She had nothing now, did she? No home, no job, no ties. Perhaps there were still records of her in the Sumeru Akademiya. Maybe she could re-enrol herself and… hope that the world hadn't left her knowledge behind. If she did that, all she learnt in that dreaded room could be passed down to others.
She had to push through. Failure was simply another step on the road of wisdom. As a scholar, things like this couldn't stop her. Beginning from zero could also be a blessing. Her mind was just too sensitive at the moment, and everything Faruzan hadn't felt in those ruins was overwhelming her.
"Hey," Faruzan decided to focus her mind on other matters. "What's your name?"
"I don't have a name. Call me whatever."
"Well, Whatever, what about a title?"
"You must think you're hilarious. I have no titles. A Wanderer, that is all I am. And I dislike small talk, so unless you have something to tell me…"
Odd, but not as strange as the ruins around them. Yes, this Wanderer wasn't a local. His attire screamed Inazuma, though his attitude sorely lacked. Adventurers like him usually travelled to the Red Sands, so it was not too strange. Though, back in the day, not many people from those islands ventured outside them.
Something was odd, however. Not giving a name wasn't particularly strange, some people merely gave fake names… But a distrustful traveller was peculiar. Especially when this man had been the one who saved her from the clutches of the desert.
An enigma. He could be the different puzzle to cleanse her palate. Perhaps, this way, she'd be able to forget that horrid trap.
"You said I slept an entire day. Does this mean you stayed here watching over me?" Her question prompted a frown from the Wanderer.
"You're heavy, what else was I supposed to do? I tried to carry you to Aaru village, but you kept thrashing, muttering mantras and pulling me towards crevices. At some point you fell asleep and I set up camp here… You weren't waking up even if I tried to."
That made sense, she believed. Faruzan could be tired, but she couldn't find any particular reason this man would help her so much. Besides pure altruism, of course. She had been in some sort of daze and he simply helped her, as any good-willed individual would do. While asleep, she didn't even feel the scorching heat of the desert day. How did he even do that? A bedroll wouldn't do, that's for sure. And looking around, she saw no natural barriers against the sun and heat.
Another piece for the puzzle, it seemed.
"So what's your story, twintails?" He asked, his eyes stuck to the fires. "If not high on narcotics, what was it?"
"Unlike you, I have a name. So please refer to me by using it." She opened her mouth to say it, but somehow the Wanderer already knew it.
"Alright, Faruzan. Do you remember what happened?"
Did she ever present herself? Perhaps while she was hallucinating? There was no other moment, so that had to be it.
She took her time to explain all she could remember. How she was following a lead and found an unmarked ruins site. Though how the trap got set into motion was lost in her mind, the constant probing of all possible solutions remained. The intricacies of her mind and her loss of mental fortitude were something she didn't bring up.
"So you've forgotten most of it. And are you sure nobody trapped you?"
Faruzan shrugged, looking away.
"You managed to escape, so what's with that downtrodden face? Do you miss your prison? Those chains?" The words of the Wanderer carried a heavy weight as if speaking from personal experience.
"Why would I ever want that? I am not upset about my escape. It's been one hundred years, that's the issue. Nobody will know or recognise me. Everyone I knew is dead, as well as their descendants. How much will the world have changed… Did my research even help anyone?"
"So you're all alone, with nobody left who remembers you. I don't see what's the big issue. Perhaps certain relationships cannot be regained, but everything else? You recovered a semblance of sanity even after a hundred years without proper stimuli. You're still you. As long as that fact remains true, you can regain everything you have lost… If it was worth recovering, I suppose."
The sudden soft-spoken nature of the Wanderer surprised her. The man was completely rude and seemed like an awful person to hand around. But he wasn't insensitive, at the very least. Or perhaps it was the lack of human contact in years that made him seem more appealing than he truly was.
"I appreciate the faith in me, you should know someone like me doesn't give up that easily. I just need… time to accept my current predicament." Faruzan strained her eyes staring at the fire and forced her gaze to the ground. "I just want everything to return to what it was… well, if it can be better, that'll be good."
A couple of silent minutes followed. Though her spirits had somewhat lifted, it seemed her saviour's had plummeted. His empathy must have been so great, that he was feeling the same distress. Faruzan saw no holes in that theory.
"You don't know how you got trapped." The Wanderer's voice lured her eyes towards him. "Are you really sure nobody's responsible? If it was somebody's fault, what would you do? They should be punished in some way."
"Even if that was the case, they'd be long dead. And if by some miracle they're not… I do not know. I am no jurist. I would rather not talk about topics I do not know about. If you wish to hear my uninformed opinion, I suppose… They would never be able to amend all the time I lost in that chamber. All I have… Everyone I have lost as well. I do not think there's any punishment comparable." As if Faruzan's answer brought him shame, he looked away. "I suppose they would have to rebuild my life in some way. That would be enough for me."
As if it was a personal quarrel of his, the Wanderer snapped back. "That's no punishment. When a thief steals something, giving the stolen object back is simply the first step. More reparations should be expected. Would you truly be satisfied with that?"
"Well… At the moment I have nothing. So yes, I would be. Well, I'd expect an apology too. Besides, it was my own fault, nobody really trapped me." Faruzan's answer didn't satisfy him, so she pushed more. "However, you are responsible for something! Saving me! And I haven't properly thanked you for aiding me."
He immediately scoffed at her answer. "Think nothing of it. Travellers help each other, that is all."
"I could have died right after escaping. If it wasn't for you…"
"Did I stutter?" Wanderer raised his tone, scowling at her. "You don't need to repay me. This is the least I could do." Faruzan was about to reply, but he raised a hand. "I want no more words. If you can walk, then start moving. Sumeru is a long way from here."
Faruzan couldn't help but be reminded of all students she scolded for being lazy, irritating or overly zealous. Instead that this time, she was the student for some unknown reason. She caught a glimpse of the anemo vision on his chest. He indeed was a good-natured traveller who didn't want any praise for his actions. A free-born soul, he'd be out of Sumeru in no time, wanderlust driving him forward. She didn't even have anything to give either way, so perhaps this was his way of trying to help herself first.
The enigma of this Wanderer clearly went deeper than it looked. Faruzan was now certain, she had to unravel his mysteries before they went their way.
"If you do not wish a reward, then be somewhat civilised and refer to me properly. I am, even after so many years, a respected and distinguished scholar of the Akademiya. As such, call me either by the title of Scholar, Professor, or Madam Faruzan. Is that clear?"
The Wanderer didn't even look at her. "Whatever you say, Twintails."
"Thank you. Wait… You did it again! What, would you be happy if I called you 'Hattie'?!"
"I'm really not that picky with nicknames." He kicked sand over the campfire, putting it out. "So yes, I would be."
Faruzan scoffed at his answer. "Don't be satisfied with demeaning names. I'll think of a proper and dignified name."
"Whatever you say, Twintails."
"Good! Wait, not again! You called me by my name beforehand, why are you avoiding it now?"
Pushing up the rim of his hat, he gave Faruzan a warped smile. "Because that's not the attitude of someone who has to recover their life, Twintails."
"Neither is yours!" Faruzan mulled over her lacklustre answer. "I mean, like… Not like you have to regain in it too, but in an isolated scenario where you replaced my… Wait, I got one! Neither is your dumb face!"
The Wanderer didn't react and started walking away. "Punishments have to feel awful, I suppose. This is going to be a long fucking trip."
