Red awoke from a deep sleep, furiously rubbing his eyes. Something irritated them, and the more he rubbed, the more irritated they became. While he couldn't see, he felt the sun beaming down, burning his skin and whatever was beneath him. Moving his back slightly, he could feel the ground shifting slightly. He stopped rubbing his eyes for a second and rubbed his hand against the ground. It was coarse and rough. And very hard. But most importantly, he felt small grains of something. He gripped it and let it slip through the cracks of his hands.
Sand. Sand?
He shot up right away and rubbed his eyes, instantly making his situation much worse. Screaming, he stood up and ran a short distance, tripping over something he couldn't see.
Laying in his stomach, he screamed and hyperventilated for a while, but as he calmed down and listened, he could hear something.
Woosh! Woosh!
The water crashed violently, slamming against the sand. Red stayed on his stomach for a while and eventually was able to open his eyes, if only slightly. To Red's horror, vibrant yellow sand met deep blue water right before his eyes.
A beach? Why am I on a beach? Where am I?
Before Red could think about his situation further, he heard quiet footsteps stepping light through the sand, followed by the tap of a cane shortly after.
He sprung up and turned his body, seeing a short older man facing him and frowning. The old man wore regal and elegant clothes with ornate patterns that managed to stay completely clean even though they stood in the middle of a beach. Despite his appearance, or maybe because of it, Red's body shook uncontrollably as the man approached.
"You're not from around here are you, young man?" The man spoke sternly, like a military leader. There was no give or playfulness in his tone.
Red stood up and dusted himself off, "Sorry, I appear to be a bit lost. I'm Roalais Estremores," Red extended a hand to him.
The older man only looked at his hand, then back up at him.
Red put his hand down, "Would you mind telling me where we are right now?"
The man put a hand on his chin, "Interesting, so you don't have a clue where you are? Not even what region?"
Red shook his head.
"We're in La Des, on the southern tip of Stolid. If you go past those walls," the older man pointed to giant walls made of sand with his cane, "You will be in Meio, the sunny capital of La Des."
"What in the hell?" Yasuke thought to himself, "At best, I'm at least two thousand miles from Oldum. It'll take me at least two months to walk back. And I have no clue what happened to Day or Yasuke…"
Red looked at the man again and examined him closely. There was something familiar, almost nostalgic about him.
"Hey old man, do we know each other?" Red backed up from him slightly.
"Do you finally recognize me Little Red?"
Before the full sentence escaped his lips, Red jumped back and summoned a blood spear.
As Red planted his feet to ready an attack, the old man silently closed the distance and began pulling on Red's eyelid, "Charan was right. There are stars in your eyes…"
Red jumped back once again and began to draw symbols in the air. The old man looked down at his hand to find it completely mangled and broken.
The old man sighed, then bowed deeply, "My name is Desmond La Frante the Troubadour and I am under the command of Charan the Yoma. By order of the Cleric, and the kingdom of Socotra's faith army, I will bring you in."
"You sound a lot different than you used to, old man. What's wrong, did they take your fangs out? Did they break you into their little pet?"
The man reached his unbroken hand into the sky. After a few moments, light gathered into his hand, beginning as an amorphous blob but soon taking shape into something more. It only took a moment for the sword to take the shape of a rapier but the size of a great sword.
"I'm not a pet Little Red. Pets don't get paid."
They circled each other, both warriors fighting a thousand invisible battles in their minds. This continued for a while, and it seemed as though all sound seemed to dissipate from the area completely. Without even realizing it, both of them stopped moving and only stared at each other.
Desmond unleashed attack after relentless attack, putting Red on the back foot. Red attempted to stab with his blood spear but it shattered under the weight of the barrage of attacks.
Red transformed the spear into a lance used it to block the stabs. Red swung the lance but before it could reach him, Desmond stepped in and stabbed him.
Red coughed up blood and recoiled, summoning a large spiked shield.
Desmond walked up to him slowly, "I see you still have that passivity just like I remember."
Red laughed, "There's nothing passive about shields. Especially when I use them."
The spikes from the shield exploded outward as Desmond disappeared into particles of light and reappeared a short distance away.
Red pushed the shield to the side, revealing his hands clasped together. He focused all of his energy on a condensed ball of blood in his hand. He could feel it responding to his every thought, bending and shaping itself to his command. He let out a cry of determination and the blood exploded outward, exploding into a thousand protruding spikes, all aiming directly at Desmond's body. Desmond blocked all of the spikes, taking his time to weave between any that slipped by his defenses. After Red's assault finally stopped, he stood hunched over, completely exhausted.
Desmond laughed aloud and waved away his light sword, "You can relax, Red. In truth I'm not here for you."
"You're not?"
Desmond teleported onto the ground next to Red, "I'm on an assignment for Socotra right now of the utmost importance. I only came to investigate you because somebody from that city asked me to. The cleric told me even if the sky falls, I still shouldn't deviate from my mission. You appearing in front of me is not as significant as that…"
Red ran his fingers through the sand, "When you say someone from the city…do you mean Meio? You're friendly with the people here?"
"This is a good place to have friends," Desmond put his hands on his knees, "The busiest trading region on the southern edge of the continent. They should have a mode of transportation that can shorten the months-long hike back to wherever you came from."
"So you're really going to let me go? Why are you helping me?"
Desmond crossed his arms, "I'm not, so don't misunderstand my actions. If I received a signal from Socotra to attack you right now, I would do so without hesitation," He got up off the sand slowly, "I amused myself enough, no need to attack you further if I'm not being paid or tasked to do it. I would say see you around, but it would be better for you if we didn't."
Desmond snapped his fingers and disappeared in a flash of light.
Red gritted his teeth and slammed his fist into the sand, "Why did I have to see Desmond of all people? From what I remember, that old man beat the 'legendary knights' and I on the way back from a battle and prattled off some nonsense about not being paid enough."
Red stood up slowly and shook sand out of his head. As he walked toward the wall composed of solid sand he thought to himself, "If that battle went on a little longer, would I have beat Desmond?"