Into the black dessert, the scarred man walks, and with him, death lingered over. Step by step, the man ushered himself to move forward. Sharp winds kept on blowing black sand into his sunburnt face. He covered his eyes, preventing the grains from blinding him. His naked feet burned from the baked sand. Sweat no longer trickled his skin for it was dried by the hot wind. He tried to look up ahead. All he could see was a sea of black particles surrounding him. The sky was no better. There was nothing to see except for the golden sun that was slowly melting him away.

He continued his path, his legs carrying on despite cramping several times. Here and there, he would often pass by big blocks of stone buried in the sand. They were his only companion. He would often rest beside them, hiding in their shadows. They, after all, provide a limited space of shield from the sun.

After wandering for some time he came upon a corpse. It seems that the vultures already made work of it for there was nothing left except the bones. This unfortunate fellow was even robbed of its rotten scent. He went to it with unhurried steps, taking his time. It wasn't that he wanted to go slow. Every muscle on his body was already protesting for water.

He stooped low to the corpse. A tiny spark of hope lit up inside his heart. He knew that the chances of finding a canteen filled with water were low. Nevertheless, he could not help hoping for it. He started rummaging the sack nearby.

Instead of water, several gems and pieces of jewelry peaked in the sack.

He looked at the corpse, studying the whole thing.

Must've been a bandit. A dumb one at that. Nobody uses this route to escape.

He searched the corpse thoroughly until he found a canteen. Licking his chapped lips with anticipation, he took it. The light weight of the canteen disappointed him the most. It contained nothing but dust.

Death's playing with his food

He kept the canteen for later use. Out of habit, he also kept the sack of jewelry.

Might need them later after all. Maybe I could bribe God?

The dry wind kept pounding at him as the sun continues to move westward. Sometimes he would see what he thought of as an oasis, only to find nothing. It was the so-called desert mirages that mother nature cruelly played. By sunset, he couldn't walk anymore. He collapsed face forward. In the distance, a sandstorm was brewing. He quickly looked for a tall slope but didn't find any. Instead, he found a broken pillar. Marked with intricate designs, it stood there, a piece of what once must have been a great temple. Summoning all his last strength, he crawled towards it. The howling sandstorm can be heard approaching closer. He tried to snake his way himself behind the pillar but failed as his last ounce of strength left him. The sizzling sand burned his cheeks. Giving up, he ignored it and closed his eyes.

Looking back in his past, many people wanted him dead. He spent his whole life making too many enemies instead of friends. If fate had been kinder, he would rather spend his life back in the faraway lands of the south. Unlike this desert hell hole where nothing grows, the south was prosperous.

He pictured himself tilling lands while watching his children play tag in the sunset. His wife would probably be in their shack, cooking dinner. Every night he would lie in bed, tired from all the labor he did. But that wouldn't matter. The warm body of his wife would heal his aching back. When morning comes, the fresh breeze of the southern mountains would greet him.

Not a bad life at all.

Unfortunately for him, his luck was shit from the start. He could not help but feel a tinge of anger towards the gods for giving him this life. Feeling bitter for himself, he continued resting his head. Death was soon coming for him. All he had to do was wait.