1217-09-25
The sand stretched endlessly, shifting underfoot like waves frozen in motion. I walked, my boots sinking into the loose grains with every step. There wasn't a dragon to ride in a small town like this—not that anyone could afford one. So, I trudged through the sands, the cart pulling me deeper and deeper into the desert's embrace. The heat was oppressive, smothering. It clung to me like a second skin, making every breath feel like drinking fire.
The heat played tricks on my mind. Shadows flickered at the edges of my vision, shapes that shifted and danced in the haze. Once, I thought I saw a great serpent rising from the dunes, its golden eyes watching me before vanishing in the shimmer of sunlight. But I kept walking. I had no choice. These sands—I knew them as well as I knew the lines on my palms. They were treacherous, unpredictable, but they were also home. The Sand Seas. The great dunes that swelled and dipped like ocean waves, cloaking the land of Sha'tar.
After hours of walking, the Central Sea came into view, its waters glinting like molten silver on the horizon. Relief washed over me, though it did little to cool my body. The familiar shores grew closer, the sandstone houses of my village rising like old friends. There it was—the gate, weathered by years of storms and winds, but still standing. My home.
I wasn't sure if I was in the clear. It had been days since I had stolen from the Queen's depository. By now, they must have discovered the missing supplies. I had done my best to cover my tracks. Moving under the cover of darkness. I felt the weight of the stolen goods pressing against me. Heavier than the satchel slung over my shoulder.
I was happy to be home. For the first time in weeks, I rested. I had enough now—enough. My sister's face flashed in my mind, her laughter like bells ringing through the market square.
Would she still greet me with that same bright smile?
I practiced the lie I'd tell them, mouthing the words as the sea breeze carried away my voice. "The Queen no longer needs me," I'd say. "I'm free now. I'll help Father with the fishing." Maybe
I'd even talk about becoming a merchant, traveling beyond the sands. A new beginning. Who truly knew what the future held?
As I reached the gate, I paused, hand resting on its rough surface. The weight of my choices bore down on me, heavier than ever. But I pushed it aside. For now, I had made it back. For now, my family was waiting. That was all that mattered.
Grimsund—a coastal settlement on the central sea. It faces the UIK to the west, a distant yet ever-present neighbor.
Grimsund is my home. It's where I store everything I need, where I rest between journeys. My travels through these sands would be impossible without the sand dragons.
People lived within the walls, their homes carved into the stone itself. Beyond the gate, the Central Sea stretched wide, its cool breeze cutting through the relentless heat of Sha'tar. The town was greener than most of the desert, thanks to its scattering of trees and shrubs fed by the nearby river.
At the docks, a few boats swayed softly with the rhythm of the water.
The gate groaned as I eased it open, sunlight spilling across the familiar sandstone walls of our house.
I opened the door slowly. The smell of roasted dates and fish greeted me, and inside, the glow of the hearth lit the cozy room. My mother was at the table, her thin hands working dough, while my father sat sharpening a knife.
"Son?" my mother said, her voice trembling as she looked up.
Before I could respond, she was at my side, her arms wrapping tightly around me. "You're home," she whispered. Her touch was warm, and I could feel how much she'd worried. She pulled back, her hands resting on my face. "You're thinner. Have you been eating? Are you all right?"
My father stood, his frame filling the doorway to the other room. He didn't rush over but studied me with his sharp eyes before finally stepping closer.
"Well," he said, his tone gruff but warm, "the desert didn't swallow you." He clapped me on the shoulder.
"It's good to be back," I said, smiling faintly.
"And Neith?" I asked, her voice filled with hope.
"She's better now. The welts have gone away slighly. The medicine worked."
Relief hit me like a wave, and I exhaled deeply. "That's... good. I'm glad."
I gestured to the satchel over my shoulder. "I brought more, just in case."
"You're a blessing," she smiled.
"When are you leaving next?" my father asked.
This was the moment. I'd practiced my story a hundred times.
""I've retired," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I thought it was time to come home, to help you with the fishing."
"Retired?" my father echoed, raising an eyebrow.
I nodded. "That's right.I'd rather be here, helping the family."
He eyed me for a moment, his expression unreadable, then grunted. "Fishing's no easy life, boy. Nets don't haul themselves."
"I'll do my part."
My mother stepped in, her soft hand resting on his arm.
"Let him settle first," she said, smiling at me. "It's enough that he's here. Neith will be so happy to see you."
I felt my chest tighten. For now, I was home, and that was enough.