Ash III: Ashlands

The errant sun looked down on her like a great eye of fire. A constant, unbearable heat accompanied its gaze, making Azluun feel as if she was being cooked alive with each and every step. Keep moving forward. She thought to herself. I can't stay here long. Her boots squeaked against the glassy surface beneath her as she pressed forward. Hundreds of years ago— well before her time— the errant sun had descended upon what was once a promising frontier at the edges of the continent. Plants, animals— even the homesteaders— all of it was burnt to ash in an instant.
The ashlands have slowly but steadily grown ever since, forming concentric rings of ash-dunes around the errant sun at its center. An invisible wind emanated from the fiery mass, pushing everything outward. When directly beneath it as Azluun now was, it bore down on her, making her feet feel heavy as she struggled forward. One more step. She thought. One more... She repeated the mantra every time a heavy boot landed on the smooth surface beneath. She now trekked through a lake of pearlescent glass, full of shimmering colors that would've taken her breath away if she wasn't already breathless from her struggle.
Should've brought a camera. She thought sullenly, as she did on nearly every adventure. Cameras, she thought, were more distraction than anything else— instead of focusing on the here and now, they made her constantly think about what would make for a good photo. By the time she got home, she'd find that she had spent more time worrying about the future photos than enjoying the actual journey. For now, she'd have to content herself with taking in the sights— and hope her words could do it justice, later.