Three days.

It'd been three days since the attack. Three days of traveling with this monster. Three days of silence.

Gwen had tried speaking to her captor, but it seemed that he only possessed a few words of the common tongue, and even those were confusing. His accent was hard to make out, and what he knew he used as vague commands.

They traveled mostly by day, and hid in clefts of the rocks by night. One night they'd found a cave, and she was allowed a warm resting place by the fire. The others, she'd spent shivering. The chill wind in the mountains did not seem to bother him, nor did the lack of sleep. He spent most of the nights on lookout whilst she slept.

They'd had nothing but the donkey meat that entire time. She'd thought it would be bad by now, but he'd treated it somehow to keep it edible, she hoped. In fact, it seemed that she was the only one eating it, which made her wonder if he just didn't care if she became sick. It tasted fine at any rate.

They were moving at a pace that was difficult even for her legs, used to hours of manual labor every day. At times, when the terrain was too rough for her to keep up, or when he seemed to become impatient, he would carry her as he did that first night.

In the day time, the ride was even more dizzying. Their ridiculous speed was more obvious when one had light to see by. This beast that was her new master was obviously far from human. When he ran, he ran as swiftly as a horse in full gallop, except he did not stick to flat trails. He would carry her over rocks and up steep cliffs like a goat. Sometimes even leaping from stone to stone, the impacts not even fazing him, though they certainly jarred her!

His stamina was incredible as well. They traveled much further whilst he carried her than what she could walk in a full day. She felt that he could have travelled the whole country by now if she wasn't slowing him down, and she knew she was slowing him. Even after one of his runs, he would not be tired. He seemed to only put her down just as her body was beginning to reach its limit. She did not think his kind sympathetic to human weaknesses, but he at least did not want to cause her lasting damage.

She could still feel the bruising on her chest as they rounded the last bend in the path. Then she stopped and stared in awe.

She had always believed that there would be a great city on the other side of these mountains. After all, traders came through this pass carrying many exotic goods. She did not however, expect to find a golden sea of sand.

It's so beautiful...

Gwen realized that she now stood within the last stretch of the mountain range, and for as far as she could see was a vast desert. She knew there was still a long way to go before they were out of the mountains, but soon they would be within that vast ocean.

And then what?

She had thought that they'd be heading towards a city, but now she realized how stupid that idea had been, considering her company. Now she realized that this journey had only begun, and that it was obvious that her captor meant for them to cross this desert. But how did he expect to do that with less than one skin of water, and maybe a mina of food left?

Perhaps he could travel that distance on his own, but not with her in tow, being a burden on his limited resources. Unless...

Gwen looked at her captor's broad shouldered back and felt the same doubts that she had the first day. Had he really brought her with the same intentions as an army leading cattle? It made sense, in a sick way, but she shook herself out of it. If that was his intentions, then so be it, it was better to die by his hand than to suffer what the others were prepared to give her.

He seemed to slow after they had come in sight of the desert, looking around at every bend in the trail, the same way he'd searched for campsites all the way here. It seemed odd to her, considering how much longer they had before reaching the bottom, and that the sun had yet to reach its peak.

They walked at this pace for some time, only stopping to let her rest and take water, while he continued searching. At last, much later, he stopped at a flat outcropping, directly facing the desert. When Gwen finally caught up with him, he seemed to be inspecting a hole in the mountainside.

The hole looked much like the entrance to a wolf's den. It was barely big enough to squeeze a small person into. She watched her companion skeptically. Does he think there might be game inside? She admitted that it made sense. They would need more food in order to cross the desert, and it was still broad daylight. She could tell that there was a lot more travelling to be done, but it might be possible to reach the foothills before dark, and possibly find a stream for much needed water.

To her surprise, he attempted to squeeze his bulky frame into the hole. After a few moments of struggling he actually managed to wriggle partway inside! What the hell is he doing?

Once he had wriggled his torso inside, his legs quickly disappeared into the hole as well. Gwen stood there stunned. There was just no way that something that big could so easily crawl into that hole.

She stood dumbfounded for a few moments before she realized that he'd left her alone. This was the first time she'd been left alone since that night. Sure he'd given her some privacy to take care of her needs, but he'd only been around the corner.

She looked around, taking in her surroundings. The trail did not branch. There was the direction from which they'd come, and it continued past this hole, down the side of the mountain, and around it, out of sight. Across from the cliff face was a steep drop that over looked miles of foothills, sparse trees, and finally, that beautiful golden sand.

She felt herself being drawn to that sight. It was so open, so free. She took a step forward and then looked back, trembling. He was still not back, so she took another tentative step forward.

She felt her legs begin to shake, but she forced herself to take another step, then another. By the third step, she felt the trembling in her entire body, she began to feel the stinging pain in her back, and when she attempted to continue she nearly doubled over with nausea.

Gwen stepped backward and felt immediate relief. She felt cold sweat running down her arms and realized that she'd hugged them about herself, and was now clawing into them with her nails. She didn't stop until the shacking subsided.

Gwen turned back to the small hole. Gwen was not considered old, though she was past the normal marrying age, she still had some youth left. Still, she'd not known freedom for most of her life. Brenson was a decent man, but he'd not been her first master, he'd not been the one to teach her what happens to slaves that run.

Logically she understood that staying was likely suicide, but something inside her resisted. After all, a slave's life was always at the will of its master. What was the difference between this master and the one she'd have once she was caught and punished for being a runaway?

This one might eat you. Then again, so might the next. Surprisingly, that thought calmed her, so she walked back towards the stone wall to wait for her master to reemerge. She did not have to wait long before she saw two satiny pale hands reach out and grasp the edge of the hole. She watched them flex, and his head appeared with his mane of beautiful dirty blonde hair.

She was still not used to this creature. Over the past few days merely staring at its back, she was often taken in by its beauty. Its skin was flawless, and at times it seemed to glow with an aura of dazzling light. Everything about it captivated the eyes, including its own vile, serpent like globes.

There was a strange smell at this end of the cavern. It was acrid, and stale. The water did not move, and was black and smooth. There was definitely something wrong. She stopped along its shore. If he'd not stopped her, she'd probably have run head first into this pond, not knowing what this water could do to her.

She had bathed in unclean water before, but it'd had the smells of life, not this tainted smell of death. She sat at the water's edge, defeated. She'd truly wanted a bath, and worse she realized, to prove the smug master wrong. It'd been some time since she'd felt so rebellious. The attempt to run before, and now directly disregarding her master's wishes, just to find that he'd been right. It was so infuriating that she wanted to cry!

As she sat there pouting, she began wondering if this would be how her tenure with this creature would be. Following it around day in and day out, being robbed of basic human needs.

The food was barely edible, and water had been sparse. She constantly felt thirsty and the few streams they'd stopped at, he'd not let her bathe in.

She did not know how long she sat, feeling sorry for herself. But at some point she realized that he'd walked out into the water in front of her, and began slowly wading towards the center, carrying nothing but his strange shepherds crook.

When the water reached his knees, he plunged the sharp end of the crook down into the water and stood there holding it with both hands as he bowed his head. Gwen remained motionless, watching. She felt a strange sense of awe coming over her. She could not quite puzzle it out, but for some reason, she felt that this deserved her full attention.

She heard soft whispers at first. The whispers drew her in however, and began to grow louder. The sounds in the cavern seemed to reverberate from the walls, spreading it throughout. Somewhere in her mind, she knew that it was her focus making the whispers clear, not their volume.

As the hushed words grew in clarity, she began to notice a new form of light. The crook began to emanate a soft aura. She had noticed this at times during the night. She had believed that it was the finish, reflecting the ambient light, but now, it seemed obvious that it glowed from within.

The whispered chorus of words flowed around her like the soft murmur of a brook. She felt herself being drawn into a relaxed, trance state. The words made no sense to her, but she felt like she could understand their meaning. It felt like a call for help, a child pleading to their parent. Yet there was power in that call. This was not a powerless child, but neither was it demanding.

As she watched, it seemed as if the crook's glow grew brighter and brighter. With each refrain of verse it grew brighter, and Gwen's mind felt like a tide. Her clarity coming in at full force, then receding from her grasp.

She noticed that the water had begun to shimmer with the radiant light as well. But it was more than just a reflection. It was as if the light was bleeding into the lake. Before long it spread throughout the pool, and reflected across the crystals in the cavern. At first it seemed like a hundred stars shone down to meet the ever growing sun, then the brightness grew so that even the crystals became difficult to look at. Finally it was so bright that Gwen felt that she could no longer stand it.

And in an instant Gwen realized that the light was gone. She seemed stunned and had to shake herself. She noticed that the light was slowly dissipating from the staff, and in an instant it was all but extinguished.

She watched as her caretaker slumped against his staff. He slowly turned and began to climb out of the pool. For the first time since she'd awoken that night, he seemed truly tired. It was as if he'd aged suddenly and drastically. His back was bent and his gait was now sluggish and clumsy, a far shift from his earlier grace.

He slumped down to the stone floor beside her, then, cupping his hands, dipped them into the water and drank. It seemed to revitalize him somewhat, but not nearly enough. He looked at her, weary, and in a raspy tone declared, "Good", and proceeded to chuckle.