It was hard to focus on the sounds whilst the rumbling of the railways, the whistle of the train, the thrumming of the engine, and the song of the sands blasted on her ears, but nonetheless, Aloe heard something treading through the dunes before she saw them. It didn't matter if she had heard them or not, she could feel them. Feel their thirst for blood.

  "This is a message to all passengers, please close any open windows. I repeat, please close any open windows. This is for your own safety." A sound echoed through the whole train from some kind of device.

  "We should enter right now," the ticket examiner pressured.

  "What's happening?" Xochipilli asked as they made their way back into the train.

  The man locked the door behind them before answering. "A stampede of Thousand Cuts."

  "Thousand Cuts?" The young druid repeated.

  "A type of plant that seeks life, if only to extinguish it," the examiner elaborated. "They have sharp thorns that exsanguinate any person that it's trapped in them."

  "I knew it…" Aloe mused under her breath. That feeling… she opened and closed her hand, remembering the evolved seed of monstrosity in her hand. But how? I didn't plant that seed, well… I guess I never disposed of it. Could it have planted itself? Or has someone managed to discover Evolution like I much feared?

  "Why do they do that?" Xochipilli asked. Even after hearing the examiner's words, he wasn't scared, but curious. Aloe found that endearing.

  "I…" The man was at a loss for words. "I can't say I've ever asked myself that question, they just do that."

  An evolved member of the Centaurea Diffusa species, a species known for its ability to pursue any moving living creatures to lacerate it. Aloe recited from memory. Interesting…

  "So these Thousand Cuts… how do they look like and move around?" Aloe finally joined the conversation.

  "Well… they are just kinda like tumbleweeds, but bigger, darker, thornier, and ignore the wind. They seemingly move by their own accord and lock their sights on anything that moves regardless of the wind's direction or might."

  "Anything that moves, or anything living that moves?" She asked for specifications.

  "Uh? The latter?" The examiner proved to be not as knowledgeable as he once appeared. Maybe it was her fault for putting him in such a high pillar, of course, no man would have answers for everything.

  "That would be enough," Aloe held a groan.

  "So," Xochipilli interjected. "Is the train always attacked by these Thousand Cuts?"

  The sight of seeing a child so excited to talk about attacks was a bit jarring, but she wasn't going to deny her disciple his happiness.

  "Not really," the ticket examiner made a motion with his finger to follow him and started walking. "Stampedes only happen in the Whistling Sands – Thousand Cuts don't like the Evergreen for some reason – and it's not like there are that many of them. Depending on the migration of birds, we may not see them for months as the mindless plants like to pursue the birds even if they can't ever catch them."

  "Oh!" Xochipilli's eyes glinted with childish glee. "I would like to see that!"

  "I'm afraid you won't be able to. The stampede is now locked onto us, and it's not migration time, so unless a rogue roc appears, I doubt the Thousand Cuts will unlatch from us."

  "Why are you calling them a stampede?" Xochipilli continued asking. "Are they that numerous?"

  "Oh, not really, 'stampede' is just how we call a group of Thousand Cuts, like a herd of sheep or a murder of crows. Way shorter you see."

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  But Aloe had different questions in her mind. The first one, she couldn't share. They call it Thousand Cuts, but that's the name given by the Aloe Veritas. Have they found out about the veritas? I guess it's possible if they had the Myriad. Or perhaps… It comes back to them having discovered Evolution; it always does.

  "How do you remove the stampede from the train?" The second question was more innocent, in a skewed manner of speech.

  "Well, if the lady wants to know…" The man checked his handheld device nervously as if pondering something. He sighed. "Follow me."

  As they traversed the whole train, all passengers looked nonplussed by the alert. Either it wasn't their first time experiencing a stampede, or they at least had heard about them. Their walk was a bit slow as the examiner had to stop on every wagon to check that indeed all windows were locked, but walking around was better than doing nothing for the whole day.

  How curious that riding the train is infinitely more tedious than traveling by foot. Having made traveling this comfortable and effortless, has made it severely less enjoyable. Not that I enjoyed running for my life in the desert for weeks without end, though, but at least I wasn't bored. Couldn't afford to be.

  After a solid quarter of an hour, they finally made it to the first wagon of the train: the engine.

  Not only it was incredibly loud, but also very hot. But most importantly, gathered around the furnace – which was being constantly filled by a man throwing scoopfuls of coal – was a group of people with more than a Haya to their name.

  Cultivators, all of them.

  "Omar, why have you brought a woman here?" A burly man with exposed biceps asked. Aloe instantly found him repulsive.

  "Well, the lady asked to see how you dealt with the stampede," the examiner, Omar, replied nervously.

  Mmm, Aloe hummed. He does not look comfortable. Has my glamour influenced his decision-making even if I haven't pushed him to do anything? That would be problematic if that's the case.

  "Did she now?" The man chuckled and walked up to her. Because she was so tall, the man had to slightly incline his head upwards as she was a head taller. "This is no place for a lady, miss. So how about you bring that cacao of yours and…"

  "I could kill before you utter your next word," Aloe casually commented, pressing her parasol against the floor.

  She could deal with men bossing her around. Most had tried since she was young from her reduced stature and frail frame – though she would have expected her increased height to change that – but acting condescendingly toward Xochipilli was something she didn't accept. They weren't dealing with Aloe Ayad, scribe of commoners, a sad and pathetic girl.

  They were dealing with Aloe Ayad, first druid, a very tired woman.

  Silence lingered on the outdoor location which was the engine room. The machinery still was incredibly loud, and so was the wind, both the one being pierced by the train and that cursing through the sands. Yet all fell into background noise at Aloe's threat.

  The vegetable woman saw it in the man's eyes. He questioned what she was talking about, that she only had a single Haya – he was that readable – but he found himself unable to let out that snarky remark. For deep down, he knew it hadn't been a threat. But a promise.

  "That's good and all," the man shoveling coal commented between grunts, "but there's a stampede that needs to be taken care of."

  The burly man shook his head and snapped out of his confusion, the hooks and tendrils of charms unlatching from his mind. "Of course. Fellas, let's get this done!"

  The cultivators chose to ignore Aloe for the time being, which was the correct answer. Aloe herself chose not to kill those men. You shouldn't think like that. She kept to herself. Maybe they are a bit gaudy, but they aren't criminals. No person deserves to die for speaking out of place, that's… what Aaliyah would do.

  Aloe didn't finish that thought, for it nauseated her to impossible degrees. The last thing she wanted was to be like that woman. Now that she had power, she needed to be better, not worse.

  Beyond that outburst, no one seemed to realize her internal conundrum. Not even Xochipilli as he was hiding behind her skirt. He was a child after all, and the cultivators had intimidated him. As much as he liked to think of her as a goddess, Xochipilli had no way to measure her upper limits. I doubt I can do that myself either.

  "The stampede is coming!" One of the cultivators announced, and sure enough, there it was looming on the horizon with a dust cloud trail.

  "So that's how they look, huh?" Aloe murmured.

  The ticket examiner had described the looks of the Thousand Cuts, but it was different seeing them in person. As he had said, they looked like overgrown tumbleweeds, if just meaner looking. Instead of arboreal debris, the Thousand Cuts were composed of sturdy-looking black thorns. There wasn't one part of the moving plant that wasn't covered in thorns.

  The rest of the people gathered on the engine didn't seem to see them quite yet, as they were blinded by the dust cloud. Aloe was just pondering how those mean-looking thorns would utterly thrash her dress.

  "Xochipilli, let's go back inside." She grabbed her disciple by the hand and led him back onto the train.

  Exposing her dress and the child – the child and then the dress, Aloe, for heavens' sake – to the stampede was a moronic proposal. She would be more than happy to see how the cultivators dealt with the bloodthirsty plants from afar.