Nobody could say for sure what sorts of demons lived in the desert. All that mattered was that they were behind the deficiencies plaguing their world.

At least, that's what most humans thought.

Adeline knew better.

She had only been a child at the time - a mere wisp of the thing, daughter to two desperate, struggling, plainly hateful parents who could not care for her. To give her up, to publicly admit defeat, would have ruined them - and so they carried her to the desert early in the morning, bundled in a blanket, sleepy and uncertain.

They put her down by a plant, a tall, prickly thing that gave her but a strip of shade, and they kissed her on the head. Told her they would be back soon.

And then they had left.

Adeline had waited there for hours. Hours, as the sun beat mercilessly down in her, exhausting in its abundance. She had been so small, so sure her parents would return to her.

And they had not.

By the time she realized this terrifying fact, much too difficult for a young child to properly think about, it had been too late. She was too tired, too hungry...but most of all too thirsty. If water was an issue in their village, with some semblance of infrastructure and a team of hardworking people hellbent on survival, there was no hope for an abandoned child in the wildness of the desert.

It had been a little while after that, as a deep, instinctual sense of defeat began sinking into Adelaine's very being, that the specter had come to her.

She had been able to see right through it, which made the budding hope in her chest sink down to her toes to die amidst the burning specks of sand. She couldn't see through humans. But this thing, this orb of floating fire, appeared as thin as a sheet of paper.

It had stared down at her - or would have stared, had it possessed eyes. Had it had anything other than flames based in nothingness. As it was, it just floated there uncertainly.

And then it turned and vanished into the swimming sunlight of the desert.

About a half hour after that - maybe more time, maybe less, Adelaine's childish, dehydrated brain could not be sure - the caravan had appeared. Filled with traveling people, moving between kingdoms.

She did not care where they were going. All she cared about was the shade of their wagon, the soothing balms they spread over her burns - and most of all, the water they poured between her cracked, bleeding lips.

It had taken her three weeks to begin talking. Another week to fully recover, both physically and emotionally.

She never told anyone what she had seen in the desert that day. Not when people began asking her about her experience, not when she began facing her past, not even when she began hearing stories about the Eclipser.

*

The day dawned bright and early. Adelaine was awake to greet the sun, sitting on the small porch that her wagon sported, staring out across the flatlands. In the distance, towering, snow-topped mountain ranges encircled the land.

It was Adelaine's favorite sight, one that she got up early every morning to witness. The day's first rays of light spilling over the jagged teeth of the mountain, painting the sky with deep, bloody hues and the ground with dappled, alternating patterns of darkness and shadow, was something she wouldn't miss for all the world.

Once the sun got high enough in the sky, however, she knew that the sun would become partially obscured. Once it was that high up, though, she would hardly want to see it in all its glory. Whatever the Eclipser was doing, it was welcome in this part of the land. Especially for wanderers such as Adelaine's family - they could always use a break from the beating sun.

Adelaine moved her gaze up to the sky above her, the shapes that were not visible from here but soon would be. She found herself wondering yet again what exactly the objects were, the ones that concealed the sun.

Whatever they were, they were calming the desert. Less of their supplies disappeared, less animals became strangely spooked. Daytime had begun to match nighttime in the peace that the desert could bring. This land was no longer the horror Adelaine had known as a child, alone and dying in its depths.

A hand clasped down on her shoulder and she turned to find her husband, Timothy, standing behind her, gazing out over the desert.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

She nodded silently, raising her hand to cover her husband's. "What do you suppose is up there in the sky?"

His hand squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. "What, covering the sun?"

"Yes." What else could she mean?

"I've heard whispers. Nobody I've met really knows. Some say it's a ship."

"A ship?"

"One belonging to something like aliens. You know."

"No, I don't. Aliens?"

"Like I said, I've heard only whispers. Not sure I believe them, myself."

"No, it's not a ship."

"You know what it is, then?" His voice was gentle, teasing, but a note of curiosity lingered there, too. They all wanted to know what was happening with their skies. The people of this land had been taught not to trust good fortune, not for a second.

"No. I just know that it's not a ship."

He laughed gently, squeezing her shoulder again. "You are a strange one."

"Thank you." Adeline's lips curled up in a smile as Tom returned indoors to tend to their infant, a beautiful baby boy named Marcus after Tom's father.

Adeline's father would be lost to the ages. She wished it so.

*

That afternoon, Adeline left the caravan - parked for a water break - to explore the desert surrounding them. This area was rockier, small hills and curves in the landscape leaving unexplored areas and wider patches of shade than usual. It was an ideal place for resting - and for exploring.

Adeline rounded a large rock structure, pausing to lean against its side and watch the sun on its way below the mountains. It was not yet low enough to paint pretty colors on the sky but she found the sight beautiful all the same.

She had always had a strange transfixion with the sun, ever since that day in the desert where it nearly played judge, jury, and executioner.

She was so fascinated with the sun that it took her a few moments to notice the shape floating before her.

Adelaine yelped in surprise, trying to leap backward and forgetting about the rocks behind her. Rubbing a now-budding bruise on her skull, she stared in numb shock at the thing before her.

The orb of see-through fire, so familiar to her, so strange.

It hovered above the sand. She had no idea whether or not it was facing her, no idea whether or not it was aware of her presence.

All she knew was that the creature hovering before her was the same thing she had seen all those years ago, when she was a broken and afraid little girl, desperate for her parents and knowing deep down that they would never return.

This thing had found her, watched over her. And in some way, she had never been able to forgive herself for not doing more with it. For not interacting with it - thanking it, perhaps. She had always found it strange how quickly the caravan had found her after she had been visited by the orb of light.

She had always sort of considered the two events related.

She reached out as if in a trance. Maybe she truly intended to touch the orb - maybe some shred of her remaining common sense knew better.

Either way, she was snapped out of her reverie when she heard her husband calling, "Adeline? Adeline, where are you?"

She turned towards his voice automatically, about to return to him, before her instincts vanished and she remembered the strange creature in front of her.

But when she turned back, it was gone.