It's early in the morning. By the palm, there's still 2/3rds of daylight left in the day. Ika and Mako are inside the carriage, drawn by unseen and most likely unknown horses. They're chit-chatting amongst themselves - honestly, nothing of importance. The carriage suddenly stops. "I go this far, and no further, ladies. The sands are murder on the horses. The ride is on the house." The duo depart from the wood, and so too, does the man depart, off into the distance. "You know, Mako, I didn't think the entrance to a desert would be so... forest-like? The trees are denser than ever." Mako whacks a stick out of her way with her axe. "It's not really a *real* desert, it's like... A fake one? You'll see." The dense brush and bristle of the forest eventually clear after walking a decent amount. Instead of stepping on branches and dried leaves, the duo now find themselves walking on... sand. Ika picks up some sand from the ground. "Okay, this *definitely* isn't normal. Maks, can you... hold out your arm?" Mako raised an eyebrow, but then outstretched her arm - the one that was free from her lopsided shirt. "Like this?" With precision, Ika carefully sprinkled some of same onto her fore-arm. "Uhuh. Just as I suspected." "You needed my arm to see that the sand was purple?" "No, but since we measure the daytime by our hands, I figured we could measure color by it too. Am I wrong?" Mako burst out laughing, having been around Ika so long that the strange things she says have become comedy gold to her. "Ahaha... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, sweetie... oh, the Knights..." "Are you done yet?" "Almost, aha, almost..." Mako recompiled herself, finally having rested. "Sorry, sorry..." "It's alright. Do you know anything about these... Uh..." Ika got a decent look on the landscape proper. The forest they came from looked like a pittance to giant landscape in front of the duo. It was sprawling, vast, dunes as far as the eye could see... all of sand a deep shade of purple. Ika looked up and got a good look at the... Sun? "Mako, I think day just broke." "That's... The sun's not supposed to do that." The sky had darkened, taking on a minor pink plaid pattern across a starless night sky. The sun itself was not immune either, having been fractured across its bottom half, replaced by lines that seemed to emerge from the tear and disappear where the sun normally would. "Ika, do you have any idea what's going on? Should we run...?" Ika didn't respond. "Ika?" Ika bent to the ground, instinctively grabbing the hilt of her sword from its sheath. "Mako... I've been here before..." A silence. "You have, sweetie? What do you remember...?" "Its faint..." Ika grips her head with her other hand. "No, no, I haven't just been here before... This used to be my home... I think I know someone who can help us. I think. I don't know, but it's worth a shot." Mako bent down. "Do you trust yourself?" Ika looked up, looked at her precious partner... "I've only ever been more sure about meeting you." She stood up from the ground. "If I remember correctly- You see that pillar over there?" Ika pointed far in the distance. "I think, from there, we can get to somewhere where we can bunker down if we need to." Thus, off they ran into the desert. The feeling of roaming the sands was still returning to Ika, but to Mako? It was very freeing. Despite the intuition that the desert would slow them down, they found it easier to run at breakneck speeds than ever, like the ground itself was propelling them. Ika used a few waypoints that she could faintly call to get them around - a pillar with a flame atop it, a broken statue, and finally, a ram-shackled shack. "You sure this is the place, Ika?" "I believe so. Nobody lived here, I think. We should probably knock, though, just to be sure." The shack itself was obviously hastily put together - the exterior made of corrugated metal plates over what would otherwise be normal drywall, with a shed on the side, though it was more of a dumping grounds. The door itself was actually quite pristine - something probably imported from the local forest and then finished off with a varnish. Ever the polite, Mako knocked on the door. Nothing. "See, Maks, nothing." "You sure? I swear I heard something." "I'll be out in just a minute! _{whippernappers...}" Complete shock passed over the duo. "You said nobody was in there, Ika!", Mako yelled out, pressing on Ika's shoulder with a pointed finger. "Hey, shh, shh, sorry, okay? Let's just be polite about this." "Alright, fine." The doorknob rattled. Rattled a little more. Okay, *now* the door is open. Bursting onto the scene is... A surprisingly old man, holding a cane in his right hand. His hair is old and greyed, but still full, his eyes, one seems normal, but the left eye is digitized, in a sense - the eye is merely a hologram, covering up machinery behind it. This evening, he's wearing a plain blue shirt, barely covering up his belly, and some shorts that are barely covering up *anything*. Ika started, trying to get into a role, like she felt she wasn't fit into in a while. "Hey, sir, sorry to bother, but do you know anyone by the name... Era?" "Era... Why, it must have been a thousand aeons since I heard that name! By which, I mean, I've never heard it in my life!" The old man spoke with a gruff, scratchy voice, like his voicebox was about to break. "Why, you two girls lookin' for yer man?" "Uhh..." Mako interjected this time. "Oy! We're actually together, old man! Show some respect." She turned her head up in a snooty fashion. "That voice... The hair..." Just before the girls walked away, the old man called out. "Hey, uh, redhead! Sorry to be weird, but... Is yer name Mako?" Mako perked up at this. "Yes...? How did you know?" The old man grunted as he reached into the pocket of his shorts, and pulled out a wallet. Sifting through *that*, he found a picture and handed it to Mako. "Mako... This may came as a bit of 'er shock to ya, but... I'm your grandfather." Mako pulled the picture out of the old man's hand. She looked at it... for a while. It was of a young girl, a child, with reddish hair and purple grime all over their face - but a large grimace nonetheless. Standing next to her was the old man she had been talking to, almost in the same exact outfit (though, he was polite enough to wear jeans, in that occasion.) Her hand started to shake. Profusely. Tears started forming, memories started rushing back. Ika was taken aback from the display. She grabbed Mako's free hand with both of hers. "Mako, Maks, are you okay?" She didn't say anything. She looked up from the picture. Looked down at it. Up. Down. She eventually settled and ran over to hug the old man. "Gramps! It is you!" "Ough- careful! 'Yer Gramps ain't what he used to be, I'm 'fraid..." Ika stood there awkwardly. "Do you two, uh, need a moment?" Maki finally released her grip on Gramps. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" Mako stuck out a hand to present her love. "Gramps, this is Ika. We've been dating for a good while now, I think..." "Girlfriend, eh?" Gramps came out of the doorway and went up to Ika, inspecting her like you would a car. Ika just stood there, trying her best not to run away at full blast down the desert's sands again. Gramps came back to Mako's side. He whispered. _{"'Ya know, if she's giving 'yer trouble, I got a-"} "What, no, Gramps, it's not like that! Ika's the sweetest, most loving girl I know." Gramps stomped his cane. "Well, if 'yer say so. Please, Ika, would 'ya like to come inside?" Ika bowed, like you would when meeting a ghost. "That would be delightful, sir." Gramps laughed like a jolly 'ol fellow. "Ohohoho! Please, 'ya can call me Gramps too, Ika! We're all family, right?" "F-[[Family]]?" Mako interrupted. "Uh, Gramps... Ika never knew her family... Its a long story, though." Gramps held out a hand for Ika. "Guess I 'ave two grand-daughters now, don't I?" Ika wiped away a tear just before it could become anything serious. "I... I would like that s- Gramps. I would like that a lot, Gramps."