The Triarch

Echo took a deep breath and steadied himself. He always felt nervous going to see the Triarch. The hot wind had picked up, and the sand was beating against his goggles. Running his fingers over the pipe in his pocket, Echo took one last look over the dunes, lifted the canvas flap, and headed inside. The interior of the Triarch's hut was spacious, but sparse. He could hear the whirring of the stack, hooked up to mummified corpse with a series of beaten wires. Echo tried, unsuccessfully, not to look at the body. Its eyes were wide open, and always felt like they followed you around the room. An optical illusion, obviously. The Triarch doesn't need eyes. Echo shuddered, concealing the action by taking out his pipe and stuffing it with falroot. He lit it, and took a seat near the door. The sand mask was heavy, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him as it fell to the ground. The tent was simple, but provided adequate respite from the harsh desert outside. Second sunrise was coming, and anyone caught outside would be done for.

An hour went by peacefully as Echo smoked his pipe. The Triarch hadn't addressed him yet, and Echo had been around long enough to know not to rush. Besides, he was happy to have some time to himself. A small ray of light shone through a gap in the flap. Small particles played in the beam, twisting and twirling in a helix pattern. Outside, the winds tore through the dunes; inside, it felt as if time itself had stopped. Echo closed his eyes, the sound of the sand battering on the side of the tent was soothing, like heavy rain on a summer night. When he awoke, the suns had set, and a soft strand of moonlight was creeping under the flap.

The stack started clicking gently, and words and symbols started forming in Echo's mind. They were fragments, somehow scattered, but still instantly intelligible. "Give the device//The device is given//We will clutch."

Echo shuddered again. It felt intrusive having the Triarch... "speak" to you. It wasn't like normal communication, there weren't words as such, instead meaning felt implanted. Felt like you always knew it, like it had been there since you were a child. Like it was something you will learn tomorrow, in a year, on your deathbed. Like a sudden realisation, and something you've been preparing for your whole life. Echo didn't like it. He placed the locator next to the stack, the device vibrating with a monotonous consistency. "Seek//Found//You will discover," the voice appeared once more in his thoughts. He knew it was time for work. He grabbed the locator, donned his mask, and hastily left the tent. The howling wind kicking the sand into a frenzied fury made the desert look like an endless expanse.  

The Triarch's tent was nestled on the periphery of the village. The whole village comprised fifteen tents in total, though through the beating sandstorm were only a vague silhouette cast by the moon against the horizon. This was the first time Echo had been home in weeks, and the distance was starting to wear on him, but he knew he didn't have time for a break. The Triarch had plans for him, and the Triarch gets what it wants. With a tinge of regret that he pushed into the depths of his mind, Echo turned his back on the village once again, climbed on his rider, and headed into the darkness ahead of him.

The sand was a thick wall creating a blinding fog through the dark in front of him. It didn't matter, though. The endless desert presented no obstacles, as long as he could feel the soft vibration in his cloak pocket, he was heading in the right direction. The small rusted device would be his eyes. He pulled a hydrator out of the rider's front compartment and jabbed himself in the thigh, giving him some respite from the dry heat. It was a long night of riding ahead of him, with nothing but the purr of his rider for company.