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Miros’ gift proved useful in the barrens, if not for Vykeli itself, and mother encouraged him to practice constantly so that he might soon unlock new abilities. And she was right. With practice came understanding that flowed through Miros’ veins like his own throbbing heartbeat. The soft red glimmer of his power tingling the edges of his skin in a sweet of static energy. He loved using his magic.

And the barren, despite its ceaseless heat, was a good place to work his tired muscles. All the brown emptiness stretching on forever couldn’t stop Miros’ gift from finding flecks of red life beneath the ground and under the shadows of rocks. He just needed to find a good place to use the power.

He tread carefully, testing the ground with the tip of a hoof before settling his full weight. The earth around him was cracked and carved with deep rivulets, baked hard from the sun. He was looking for black shadows that might indicate a proper hole or den under the ground. The sun was in his eyes, though, making him squint against its thundering brightness. Already sweat was beginning to pour dark patches down his flanks.

That was fine. He could manage a while longer yet.

The open desert swallowed noise so Miros didn’t notice the crunch of tough ground under hooves until he overtook the doe. The squeaking metal from her bucket pinged his ears and made him pause, alert. It was a strange noise to whisper in the barrens. He lowered his head, cautious, scanning the bleak landscape, but saw nothing more than a handful of boulders at his shoulder.

… until he rounded one and stumbled into an unfamiliar sabino doe.

“Oh!” Miros trickled backward to give her space. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you… are you alright?”

No harm done, they hadn’t bumped into one another, but it was the quickest opening that sank in Miros’ mind. He’d be walking on his own for hours now and the desperate need for company poured the words from his mouth before he’d thought of them. He couldn’t recall the doe’s face, but she looked roughly about his age, a grullo like himself, with much flashier colors.

Her bucket was a curious thing. The smell of water made him salivate but he tamped the need down. He’d be fine for a while yet, and it didn’t seem like she had very much left from the pitiful sloshing.

“That’s a smart idea!” he said, bobbing his head at the bucket.

“Your bucket,” Miros stated with a flick of his chin toward it. “Bringing water out here.”

He’d seen plenty of noulicorns loaded with saddlebags of water, but you needed help to get into them and the sloshing weight of liquid could force you to your knees in this heat. Travelling the barrens was a burden for anyone but an atmos user. The bucket, though… lighter weight, you only had to carry what you needed, easily accessible by a single traveller without a familiar, and it was easy to get rid of if you needed to shed the excess weight quickly. He’d let mother know about this. She’d forbade him from bringing water on his barren excursions.

”It’s better to learn how to survive without it than rely on always having water on hand,” she’d said, after he’d returned panting and sunstroked from a training excursion.

After that, she’d shown him how to find water in the few precious underground wells deep within the Barrens. They were sparse, and once exposed the water would be gone in days, but as long as he knew the signs, he could search for new sources.

“I’m Miros.” He shook himself to the present and offered the stranger a bright smile. “What brings you to the barrens?”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mielikki.” Miros dipped his head politely, but his ears sprang forward, attentive, at the mention of her quest. “I’m searching too!”

Was there any other reason to be out in the barrens? Searching for things to bring back to Homewood, healing Vykeli with drops of power in a vast bucket, or travelling to and from Grandfather Tree. The heat and drought forced many from stepping foot for recreational reasons.

“Not for objects, though. I’m hoping to find old bones or seeds to bring back for revivification. My mother sends me on excursions like this.” More so now that he had his first ability from Grandfather Tree. Detect life was useful for things that were still living, but hunting for relics remained elusive as ever.

“We could look together, if you’d like?” Eagerness painted his voice bright. The barrens were lonely work, and Miros ached for company. “The time would go faster that way, and two sets of eyes are twice as likely to spot something.”

She’d agreed! Miros cantered after her, head held high, rejuvenated in the promise of company. His hooves beat a joyous tempo off the packed earth while his tail swished to the rhythm.

“Shiny should be easy out here,” he said as he paced level with Mielikki. “With this sun beating on everything!”

He kept his eyes open for anything glimmering on the horizon, but stopped when Mielikki paused. The sprig of dead grass curled yellow-brown in the heat, dry as fire crackles. Miros lowered his nose to it, snuffling.

“I don’t know,” he said, frowning in consternation. “It could be a species we have in Homewood, but it might be something else. I’m not familiar enough with grasses to be sure, but…” he eased his teeth around a few crisp blades and plucked it from the ground, tucking the mess into his mane for safe keeping.

“A gardener would know. Better to bring it and be safe.” He shot Mielikki a warm smile. “Thank-you!”

Something gleamed star-bright in the corner of his eye. He turned to look at it. It was difficult to make out, but something metallic was strewn in pieces further ahead, a splotch of dark grey and shining sun reflection among all the drab sand.

“There’s something over there!” Miros exclaimed.

She wasn’t following him? A strike of panic bit him and he glanced over his shoulder to see why. Perhaps he’d been too obvious in his want for company. Maybe she waited for him to leave and took the polite road out, leaving while he wandered off. But, no. She was still there, placing something in her bucket. His ears perked at the sight but he said nothing. For now. He beamed as Mielikki caught up with him and hurried toward the shining object at a brisk canter.

He reached it with furrowing concern. Pieces of jagged metal sprayed outward in a thin circle, half-buried under the sand. Bright and shining for the most part, with black scorch marks crusting the edges. Just outside the circle lay a heavier object, about the size of his head, stinking like coal and fire. He nudged it with a hoof and it gritted solidly over the sand.

It was definitely an alien object left here by the Others, but he had no idea what it could be. What was it meant for? From the shrapnel around it, it seemed dangerous. Or, at least, it had been once.

Mother forbade Miros dallying with Other technology. His curiosity was useful in different directions.

He turned to Mielikki, open and questioning. “What is it?”

“It might be dangerous,” Miros replied, legs splayed and neck stretched to inhaled the horrid stench without going too near. The scorch marks were evidence of destruction, blasting outward in a grey-black radius filled with curling pieces of metal. He didn’t know what that meant. The closest he’d ever seen to this was when lightning felled a tree, leaving its charred corpse singed and stinking.

He didn’t think it had any useful purpose to healing Vykeli, so he shouldn’t be concerned with it. Mother would be angry he’d dallied this long.

“Should we…” leave it be he should have said, but he raised his eyes to Mielikki, tail swishing with uncertainty. “Take a piece to study? Maybe one of the sage’s back in Homewood knows what it’s for. If it’s dangerous then we-” the collective we, of all noulicorns “- ought to do something about it, so no one gets hurt.”

Mother couldn’t be upset. He’d never tell her, and besides, Mielikki would take the thing along in her bucket and Miros could wash his hooves of it.

“At the very least we should leave some sort of mark here, so we don’t forget where this is.” Of course, Miros didn’t bring anything that could be driven into the ground as a flagpost. He did the best he could, scratching out a wide “X” next to the pile of metal bits.

Miros stared at the bone, wide-eyed. That was a much better find that the bits of dead grass he pulled from the dry ground. He leaned down to sniff it, but any secrets it might have contained were long gone, bleached away by the sun. He wouldn't be able to tuck this in his mane. He kept close to it as Mielikki examined the shrapnel.

Miros grimaced, but nodded. "Hot from the sun, do you think? Or... from something else?"

Metal in a hot sun would bake to burning, but he didn't care for the look of these shattered, alien objects. What if they still contained some power? The nouls in Homewood would be able to figure it out and Mielikki seemed the competent sort. He trusted her to handle it correctly.

They both had treasures now, and questions to go along with them.

"Should we head back now?" Miros finally picked the bone up, held loosely between his teeth. He'd have a difficult time conversing with that in his mouth. He flicked his tail and glanced Homewood-bound. Mother would be proud of these finds!