The Grand Library of Aramun was a fortress of knowledge, but on this night, it felt like a cage. Aya crouched in the shadow of a towering bookshelf, clutching the brittle map to her chest. Her breathing was shallow, but she couldn't stop her heart from hammering against her ribs. Somewhere above, the glass-domed ceiling reflected the faint moonlight. Below, the flickering glow of torches grew brighter as the king's guards combed the endless rows of bookshelves. Their boots thudded against the marble floor, their armor clinking with every step.
"Search every corner! Leave no shelf untouched!" a gruff voice ordered, sharp and commanding.
Aya's fingers tightened around the edge of the map. The parchment felt alive in her hands, as though it, too, sensed the danger closing in. She dared a glance at it under the faint torchlight filtering through the cracks of her hiding place. The ancient symbols shimmered faintly, the ink—written by hands long turned to dust—seeming to pulse with a rhythm of its own.
The Shaded Oasis. It was real.
Her discovery should have been cause for celebration, but the Vizier's men would ensure that she never left the library alive. Aya took a deep breath, silencing the doubts gnawing at her resolve. She had to escape.
The sound of boots stopped dangerously close to her hiding spot. Aya froze, her mind racing. She could hear the harsh breathing of a soldier just beyond the tapestry concealing her.
"Nothing here," the man muttered, his voice muffled. The torchlight wavered, and the footsteps moved on.
Aya released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Carefully, she pulled the hood of her cloak tighter over her head and slipped out from her hiding place. She moved like a shadow, silent and deliberate, navigating the maze of towering shelves with practiced ease. Years spent as an apprentice in the library had given her an intimate knowledge of its labyrinthine layout. She only needed to reach the hidden passage beneath the archives, and she would be free.
The Grand Library, once a sanctuary, now felt suffocating. Aya's mind flashed back to the moment she had uncovered the map earlier that day. Tucked between the pages of an unassuming book, the parchment had seemed ordinary at first glance. But the intricate symbols and the unmistakable words etched in a language few could read told her otherwise.
"The Shaded Oasis…" she had whispered, her voice trembling with wonder.
It was the stuff of legends, a place that scholars debated endlessly but had never proven to exist. Some claimed it was a haven of knowledge, a repository of wisdom left behind by an ancient civilization. Others believed it was a wellspring of divine power, a gift from the gods. Whatever the truth, it was said to be guarded by trials so deadly that none who sought it ever returned.
And now, the map was in her hands.
Aya's steps quickened as the echoes of pursuit faded behind her. She reached the staircase leading down to the archives and descended, the air growing cooler and damp with each step. Her hand brushed against the stone wall, seeking the small, inconspicuous latch that would open the hidden passage.
"There you are!"
Aya spun, her pulse spiking. A guard had spotted her, his torchlight cutting through the gloom.
"Stop her!" he bellowed.
She didn't hesitate. Her fingers found the latch, and the wall groaned as a hidden door slid open. Aya darted inside, pulling the door shut just as the guard reached the stairs. She heard his frustrated shout on the other side, but the thick stone muffled the sound as she bolted down the narrow tunnel.
When she emerged into the cool night air, Aya didn't stop running. The streets of Aramun stretched out before her, a maze of sandstone alleys and darkened bazaars. The city was quieter than she had ever seen it, the usual bustle of merchants and travelers replaced by an uneasy stillness. Even the beggars and stray animals seemed to have vanished, as though sensing the unrest that brewed in the palace above.
Aya pulled her hood low, blending into the shadows as she slipped through the streets. The desert lay just beyond the city walls, its vast expanse promising both freedom and danger. She had no illusions about what lay ahead. The sands were merciless, and she had neither the strength nor the knowledge to survive them alone.
By dawn, Aya stood at the edge of the desert. The golden dunes stretched endlessly before her, shimmering beneath the rising sun. She adjusted the map, squinting at the faded symbols. They pointed toward a distant ridge, barely visible on the horizon. Aya's stomach churned with doubt. What had seemed so thrilling in the safety of the library now felt impossibly daunting. But there was no turning back.
The sound of hooves and the creak of leather drew her attention. A lone figure approached, riding atop a camel. The man's face was mostly hidden by a weathered turban, but his piercing eyes gleamed beneath the shadow of his headscarf.
He stopped a few paces away, his gaze scanning her with cool detachment.
"You're far from the city, scholar," he said, his voice low and rough.
Aya straightened, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as she could muster. "I need a guide."
The man raised an eyebrow. "A guide?"
She nodded, holding up the map. "And you need gold."
The man snorted, dismounting his camel with practiced ease. "Gold doesn't buy survival out here." He approached, his movements fluid and unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world. "What's so important that you'd risk the desert alone?"
Aya hesitated. She didn't know if she could trust him, but she didn't have a choice. "The Shaded Oasis," she said finally, her voice steady.
The man froze his expression hardening. "The Shaded Oasis?" he repeated, his tone laced with skepticism. "You're chasing a myth."
"It's real," Aya said, unfurling the map. She held it out, the parchment trembling slightly in her hands. "And this proves it."
The man studied her for a long moment before taking the map. His eyes narrowed as he traced the symbols, his lips pressing into a thin line.
After what felt like an eternity, he handed it back. "If the oasis exists, it's cursed. But…" He paused, his gaze meeting hers. "I'll take you as far as my tribe's lands. Beyond that, you're on your own."
Aya nodded, relief flooding her chest. "Thank you."
The man smirked, climbing back onto his camel. "Don't thank me yet, scholar. The desert doesn't take kindly to outsiders."
As the sun climbed higher, Aya followed her new guide into the vast expanse of dunes.
The journey was harsher than Aya had imagined. The sun blazed overhead, a relentless oppressor, and the sand burned beneath her feet despite the thick soles of her sandals. Every step felt like a battle against the elements, the endless dunes offering no respite.
Her guide, who had introduced himself as Idris, moved with the effortless grace of someone who belonged to the sands. He rode his camel in silence, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon for threats.
"You're slowing us down," Idris muttered, glancing over his shoulder.
Aya scowled, sweat dripping down her brow. "Not all of us were born in the desert."
Idris smirked but didn't reply.
That night, they camped beneath a canopy of stars. The desert, so unforgiving during the day, transformed into a serene, almost magical landscape under the moonlight. Idris built a small fire, its warmth chasing away the chill of the night.
Aya sat cross-legged, studying the map by the flickering light. The symbols seemed to glow faintly, their meaning tantalizingly just out of reach.
"What do you hope to find at the oasis?" Idris asked, breaking the silence.
Aya hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of the map. "Answers," she said finally. "To questions, no one dares to ask."
Idris didn't press further. He knew better than to question the desert's call.
As the fire crackled between them, Aya felt a flicker of hope. The journey ahead would be long and perilous, but for the first time, she dared to believe that she might succeed.