Cute to be Cryptic

The desert sands hide secrets and a surprising discovery. As Theros’ guardian, Aspasia thought she’d seen everything - but she couldn’t be more wrong.

Shimmering dunes stretched hungry fingers towards the towers of Theros, false water threatening illusory floods in the blinding sunlight. Aspasia watched the travellers trudge across the sands day and night, huddled beneath meagre shade-cloths even as their sprawling caravans stretched out towards infinity. They kept their eyes downcast, avoiding the glare of the ever-present sun that beat down overhead, but they looked up at her approach. They always looked up.

Left leg aching from a recent wound, some fool who thought she could be driven off to die in the sands and instead found himself dead and dry in the heat, Aspasia approached the incoming group. Small, possibly a family unit, but with sharp-smelling spices that tickled her nose from a hundred paces away tucked beneath their awnings. Six people, and none looked belligerent, which was a pleasant change.

Whispers broke out at her approach, frantic rustling carrying the sounds of barely restrained terror, and she did her best to ignore them. Two of them darted behind the wooden cart, and she bit back a sigh. Did they think she would gobble them up simply because they were there? The remaining four were stauncher, one staring at her with such intensity it was almost a relief to look away from those burning eyes to address the stooped figure who at last approached her. Crouching down, sifting sand between her fingers, she spoke.

“You approach the city in the sands. I am the second guardian. If you desire entry, you must first answer my riddle.”

The elderly human nodded, his eyes sharp as iron spear tips. Three pairs of similar eyes regarded her evenly from behind him, two more peering from behind the cart. Aspasia blinked slowly at them, then began.

“I bloom in the night,

Spread wings of white,

Blind but seeing all,

Rising high only to fall.

Night-bound is both truth and a lie,

What am I?”

Consternation wrinkled the weathered face further, and he turned back to his family. Whispers chased their own tails, circling round and round then darting away, tiny birds circling a cactus as they debated. One of them gestured pointedly. Aspasia kneaded the sand beneath her paws, tail flicking idly as she waited. The urge to prick her ears was ruthlessly quashed as she heard a fragment of the answer dance past on the wind; she hoped they chose wisely, now. It was always hard when she knew they had come this close, only to fall.

The sand was beginning to warm now, the morning sun quickly giving way to the unrelenting fever heat of the day. She could smell the salty tang of sweat from the travellers, heat and nerves working together. They would certainly answer soon, or else walk back into the shifting sands in search of a different oasis. But they looked intelligent, so they would likely attempt an answer - only fools searched for water outside of Theros.

Nervous glances were shot her way, and she heard the quiet rattle of metal moving against leather. Sharp metal, probably. Without being too obvious, Aspasia rolled onto her stomach, protecting her underside from easy attack, and made a point of flexing her claws, as if bored. The rattling stopped.

The withered old man returned, stooped even further like a dead cactus nearly uprooted by a storm, sands shifting away to undercut the dried-out husk.

“O guardian of Theros, the answer to your riddle is the moon.” Aspasia flicked one ear to the side, watching with lidded eyes as the travellers glanced anxiously at one another. Most of them, anyway. One, the same one as earlier, was staring intently at her with a cutting intensity. Yawning in an attempt to hide her sudden discomfiture, Aspasia climbed to her feet. Sand flew as the old man hurriedly retreated, one of the others grasping his arm and pulling him close, but Aspasia merely blinked slowly at them and inclined her head towards the shimmering towers of the city.

“Then step onwards; the city awaits, travellers.”

She could nearly smell their relief, certainly she could hear the gasping rush of breath released at her words. The tension slipped from their shoulders and sank away into the sands as a snake sloughed its skin, and the little convoy rolled past her. Even as it bumped its way over the next dune, Aspasia could have sworn she felt eyes on her, but she kept her back to the travellers and ignored the way her fur bristled along her neck. 

***

Barely even two days later, as Aspasia watched the final caravan of a convoy trundle into the setting sun, she heard a cough from surprising close by. Fur standing all on end, tail whipping through the air, she turned and met steely grey eyes, somewhat lower than she expected. This close, she towered over the human, her breath close enough to ruffle their hair.

“You look familiar,” she said at last, breaking the silence that had grown into a deafening void between them. Something flickered deep in the human’s grey eyes, some hidden emotion quickly tucked away and out of sight. Aspasia took a small step backwards, sinking slightly into the sand. Being so close to that stare was unnerving.

“I came through a couple of days ago, with my family. Name’s Seti.” If they noticed her subtle retreat, they gave no sign of it, which at least served to soothe her wounded pride. Worst of all was that they didn’t even appear to be armed; she was nervous about some tiny human being too close to her. Yet, there was something about the way they watched her that made her... she didn’t know what it made her. Nervous? Scared? Intrigued? Aspasia bit back her confused emotions, aiming for chilly courtesy.

“I recall. You do not need to answer a riddle in order to leave the city, only to enter.”

A nod greeted her words, which only confused her further.

“I know. I...” Now it was her turn to watch the human closely, wondering if the pink dusted across their cheeks and creeping down their neck was due to the fading sun or some emotion. Human faces were strange, hard to read, and they suddenly wouldn’t meet her eyes. 

They coughed again, glanced at her and then away as if burned. “I liked your riddle. Um... and I wrote one. For you. Uh, I mean, not to um... I— I mean, just for fun. If... if you want to hear it?”

Aspasia blinked at him.

“You... wrote a riddle? For me?”

Another nod, this one less certain than the last. The human’s hands were trembling, much like the sudden butterflies crowding her stomach and making her heart skip beats. Slowly so as not to startle the human, Aspasia sank to her haunches before lying down, tucking her paws beneath her. Much to her surprise, a purr wormed its way out of her and she tilted her head to one side. The human stared at her wide-eyed, their breathing hiccuping in their throat.

“I’d love to hear it,” Aspasia managed at last, her purring redoubling as a brilliant smile lit the human’s face.