The Test of Tests

The Dusts of Andulain

The hot desert sun bore down on the dusty plains, scorching and miserable. It was the kind of heat that made you pant, the kind of heat that made the air waver like an oil slick, the kind of heat that made you think no soul could ever live out there. And to the heat's credit, no souls did.

But the two souls making their way through the desert didn't live in the desert. They didn't live at all, not in any technical sense. 

"This better be worth it," the first said, right as the two crested a tall blood-red dune. He was man, tall and lean, wearing a black cloak with a hood that hid his features. In this heat, a cloak like that should've been unbearable, and it would have... if the man wearing it felt heat. "If you dragged me to this godsforsaken corner for nothing, I will put you in a coffin," he said, and from the shadows of his hood, his eyes flashed an impossible red.

"I spent a century in a coffin once," the second figure replied, voice like billowing dust. She was awoman, and she wore a plain leather tunic, tall boots, and dark gloves. A curved cutlass hung at her hip. "It wasn't half bad."

"Really?"

"No. It was f*****g terrible."