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The Crown of the Dawn Father beat down on the desert sands relentlessly, shimmering waves of heat clouding my vision as the arid winds whipped sand about into little dust like clouds that stung and scuffed at my body. For malms on end the ivory sand seemed almost alive as the shifting dunes send wisps dancing to and fro like illusory creatures. The tracks to the Tribe had been lost some time ago, shortly after reaching The Burn. The constantly agitated ground was sure to not hold any clues for long. I come to rest atop a large dune, trying to get my surroundings as I wrap the craps of my tunic up around the nape of my neck. I could feel my skin blistered and bubbling, there was nary any shelter to be had in this landscape forsaken by Nhaama herself.
My weakened legs buckle as I try to take a step, my now frail body letting out a yelp as I’m sent careening down the sand-kissed slope. Flat on my back, my gaze finds itself staring at the sky. It was a beautiful shade of cerulean, not a single cloud could be seen. Despite the blistering heat it was, in many ways, a nice day at the very least. I let out a chuckle between coughs at the silver lined sentiment as I open up my pouch. Inside lay hardly half an onze of meat from my last kill before I had reached the desert, and wasn’t likely to find any food- or water for that matter- until I was out. Solutions to the lack of water had run as dry as the desert I stood in. My waterskin lay empty, foliage is sparse and dry. Begrudgingly I had even implemented techniques used by the Bairon, given less efficiently, to filter water out of my urine with charcoal and other desert resources. But my body’s fluids were spent, I couldn’t sweat and my mouth feels like it’s full of cotton.
My fist slams down into the sand, scattering grains as I let out a raspy yell of frustration. I know they came this way; the tracks went South out of the Valley and into the Burn. Shortly after they disappeared, but they were definitely still headed South, past the Burn, through the Desert, and by all likelihood are in Valley Mirroring the Kagon mountains. Mind racing, I cast a quick Glance at the sky through my clouded vision. I can feel my eyes dilate as they widen in shock. I track the horizon with my finger, and once again to be sure. I had been going North this entire. I feel my stomach sink even lower into my gut as I fall back into the sand below as the haunting realization starts to dawn on me. I have no idea where I am, or where the Tribe had gone for that matter.
Shock sets in quickly as my head begins to spin with worry, eventually slapping myself with fervor back into lucidity. A major setback, for sure, but there was still hope.
“If Myra can find her way back in the middle of a maelstrom, than I can get out of some lousy desert.” My voice rasps with a reassuring laugh heard between fits of coughing. Throwing my rucksack back around my shoulder I start to retrace my steps, following my gaze along the path I had been walking before setting off once again.
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I feel sand seep into my mouth as I hit the ground. I don’t even remember falling, or any pain other than the sand pressing against my face, I guess my legs just decided they were done holding me up. With the last scrap of strength I can muster, I roll onto my backside to try to put my scales between my skin and the sizzling desert sand. Between how hot and rough it was, the feeling of it scraping against my open blisters made me want to scream, but I had no energy to muster even a whimper. It had been another three days since I had changed direction, and the vast expanse of sand felt like I was no closer to finding the tribe than when I began. Through my half-hooded gaze I could make out the blurry silhouettes of vultures circling far overhead, they knew my time was short and deep down I did to, no matter how much it pained my soul to admit it. Curling my fingers in the sand, I try to lift myself off of the ground again. Every muscle in my body screams in protest, the raw and burned skin and rubs against the sand forces me to cry out in pain. One last time I rested my head back down into the cushion of loose sand. I feel my eyes try to squeeze out tears, but the dried-up reservoir of my body has nothing left to give. Dry, choked up sobs are all that can be heard in this arid expanse as I close my eyes in a vain attempt to get away from that awful sun for even half a second.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… Mother…Father…Myra... “. My fingers weakly grip at the shifting sand underneath me, knuckles whitening as I try to grip the granules in vain whilst they slip out from between my fingers. It hurts to cry, it hurts to breathe, everything hurts, and I just want it to stop. I feel a modicum of relief in my chest as I manage to stop myself from crying anymore; letting my body catch a breath as I shut my eyes once more.
“Nkhaama minii setgeliig enkhrii tevrelt dor chuglüüleerei.”, I utter out a final prayer to the Dusk Mother, relinquishing myself to the Land for my last sleep. No sooner had I shut my eyes to welcome Death’s sweet embrace did an unexpected feeling jolt my senses. Splat! A drop of water splashes down onto my face, its biting chill a stark contrast to my parched skin. My eyes jolt open in shock, the once blue sky had turned into a slate gray mass. Slowly at first, but with a terrifying crescendo, the rain picks up in intensity. Moving quickly from a showring mist to a torrent. My aurals start to ring as a stroke of lightning pierces the sky, thunder that followed shaking the very ground beneath me as my body wedges itself into the mud. My face breaks out into a fit of laughter drowned out by the din of the storm, opening my mouth wide to drink deep the waters of the land as a second wind gives me strength to sit up.
A chill swept the quenched desert as a terrific gust nearly toppled me onto my back once more. Forced down to my hands and knees I catch a glimpse of a shadow looming overhead. My gaze snaps up in time to see a massive silhouette of some…creature. Its wings black as obsidian against the dull gray sky as it listlessly drifts over the land.
“OW!”, I wince as something hard strikes me in the back of the head as it tumbles to the ground. My fingers fumble for it in the mud, for it where a glistening white sphere greets me. Hail? Here? My eyes shifted back up to observe the creature above, but it had already flown far from my sight, stranger still the mysterious storm that materialized had vanished as quickly as it had come. The swelting heat of the sun began to beat down once more turning the miserable, arid air of the desert into a humid mess. I would have thought it was a hallucination of exhaustion had it not be for the wet, muddy ground and pooled puddles of water that surrounded me. My brain snaps me out of my stupor – not wanting to squander this chance I immediately set to work getting what water I can into my pouch before it’s drank deep by the parched desert sands. Digging my hands into the mounds of mud I slather it against my body; the cool kiss of the water relieves the burns, more so to protect against the heat that was to come. One last time my legs find the vigor to lift me while I focus my attention back out towards the horizon. At this point my resolve for finding the tribe took a backset, first I needed out of this forsaken hellscape.
Seems Nhaama isn’t done with me quite yet.