An eagle flies in the sky, below, a sand storm blankets the land. The desert is a rough place. The few inhabitants it fosters took thousands and thousands of years to adapt to its vigor. Barbara Kelak had lived in the desert for about ten years now, near a river in the mountains, where trees provided their shade. Right now she is far from any body of water, not a tree in sight, and her jug of water empty, she looks for the road she was sure was beneath her. Now everything is covered in sand, and the dusty wind is in no mood to stop its onslaught.

Barbara knew running away from home would bring a slew of obstacles she had to overcome, she didn't expect to run into any problems so soon after leaving. Master always got them out of trouble, he knew the lay of the land almost by instinct. She imagines what he would say, that annoying laugh he would always howls out after anything would not go her way. She turns, in the direction of the mountains, where her old home is found, she turns around again, endless desert before her, she continues looking for the road.

"Where is the fucking road?" She screams.

Barbara falls to her knees, the sand burns against her skin, she doesn't care, too tired, too thirsty. The endless desert before her, dressed in hills and slopes, has taken its toll on her. Her exposed skin red from sunburn, had it not been for all the sand in the air it would be worse, at least there’s that to be grateful for, she thinks as she spits dirt from her mouth, her eyes water from all the dust the wind shoots at her face. She closes her eyes, hoping the wind would just give her a break.

The desert has enough crags and rises tall enough to be considered cliffs, but the sun at its peak height left no shade to refuge under. Barbara puts her weight on her cross hilt sword to help her back on her feet, trudging along, against the wind. She finds a dune tall enough to cover her from the wind, taking refuge briefly before the wind changes direction and she has to find somewhere else. This goes on for a while, slowly but surely, after what seemed like hours, the wind begins to slow, letting the dust settle.

Barbara looks up at the clearing blue sky, now the sun will shine even brighter. She at least now has a better view of the layout of the land, and she begins to recognize the area around her. She turns her head back, in the direction of the mountains she came from, turns back around to look at where she finds herself.

“I haven’t gotten far at all!” She screams.

Once again, dropping to her knees, she begins to truly question her intentions of leaving home. Something pulling her deep inside in two directions, she can turn back to the mountains and continue with her quiet, meaningless life, or she can find a more efficient way to make it south to Pillotlan. The wind, now, much calmer, continues to hum and whistle around her. Barbara closes her eyes, clearing her thoughts, concentrating on her breathing, as Master had taught her. She listens to the wind sing, sand rustling beneath her, her mind going silent, the sunlight no longer bothering her, the song the wind sings gets louder, and clearer, cows moo.

Barbara opens her eyes. She looks around, over some hills dust rises into the air, there’s a lot of movement, exactly where the singing is coming from. She gets to her feet, supporting some of her weight on her sword, stumbling towards the hill, she crawls as she nears the top, making herself small to not be seen by a potential threat. Over the hill a herd of about thirty cattle make their way south, at the rear, a few people, two men and a woman, the two men draw Barbara’s attention at first glance, twins by the look of it, dressed the same, giant in size, both with crossbows on their back, and a sword at their hip. The woman rides on a carriage, barrels of what Barbara’s dehydrated state convinces her are full of water, at the very end of the caravan, a lone, saddled horse, tied to the saddle a jug of water.

Barbara’s eye’s light up, all she has to do is patiently wait for them to make it further down the road, once they have their backs turned she’ll sneak towards the lone saddled horse and get herself some water, maybe they’re headed to Pillotlan as well, she could follow them all the way there. Committed to her plan, she waits for the caravan to pass by the hill where she lies. Once they had turned their backs towards her, she began to slowly descend from the hill, making her way towards the neglected horse, a dark bay mare, the horse doesn’t seem to mind Barbara’s presence as she approaches. Barbara’s heart races, both from the adrenaline pumping through her veins, and the pace she struts along to keep up with the caravan. Finally, Barbara is able to free the tied jug of water from the saddle, only to find once its full weight is in her hands that it’s empty.

Barbara drops to her knees again, hidden beneath the dust cloud left from the herd’s stomping. She thinks over possibilities, asking for help comes to mind, but for all she knows these people might also be slavers, or organ harvesters. She observes the caravan as it moves along, away from her, through the dust she can see another horse a bit further, a jug of water also hanging at its side. Determined to get a drink of water, she gets back on her feet, hunching low, she makes her way forward, passing by the lone saddled horse, approaching the dun stallion. Unlike the horse at the rear, this horse is wary of her presence, once Barbara raises her arm to attempt to grab the jug of water, without missing a step, the horse raises its leg and kicks Barbara’s abdomen, she is sent hurling to the ground, the jug she had got a hand on breaks, its liquid seeps into the dirt, everyone is alerted by the sound of the clay jug shattering. The horse having knocked the wind out of her, she struggles to get a breath of air.

“What the hell is that desert lizard doing?” Yells one of the armed twins.

“Get her!” Yells the other, turning his horse, charging towards Barbara.

Barbara gets up, getting back at the horse with a smack to the rear, it panics, charging forward, startling the other animals.

Barbara makes a run for it, running up the hill she came from with whatever energy she has left, by the time she gets to the top, she’s overwhelmed by fatigue, suddenly everything is a lot hotter, her body, the air she gasps in through her parched lips, even the sweat trickling down her brow. She stumbles to the floor, her legs no longer responding, she crawls through the rough, scorching terrain, not wanting to cry to not waste any more of her bodily fluids.

The armed twins make their way through the startled herd and ascend the hill on foot with relative ease. Barbara gets up, supporting herself on her sword, facing the twins. They chuckle amongst themselves, both reaching for their crossbows.

“Nowhere to run, desert lizard.” Says the twin on the right, raising his crossbow.

“I thought the smell came from the cows.” Barbara coughs a laugh at her own joke, unsheathing her own sword.

Both of the twins scowl as she continues coughing off laughs.

“The desert broke her. Take her out of her misery.” Says the twins on the left.

The bolt snaps loudly as it darts forward; louder, the clang of metal that was heard shortly after. Barbara drops back down on all fours, gasping for air, not expecting to have exerted so much effort in such a short while. Her gasping turns into coughs, soon turning into gagging, her throat completely dry.

“No fucking way.” Breathes the twin on the right.

The twin on the left raises his crossbow, again the loud swish of the bolt is heard, this time, making sure not to blink, the twins see how at impressive speed, Barbara quickly raises to one knee, swinging her sword at the bolt before it can come any closer.

“What the hell are you two doing?” The woman on the carriage makes it to the top of the hill, mounted on the horse that had kicked Barbara, joining the twins as they stare, mouths agape, at the girl stumbling to the floor.

The last thing Barbara knew, she had swatted the second bolt out of the air before her sight started flashing balls of various colors, all slowly turning white, just before everything else went white, then black, losing consciousness.