Chapter One: The Corpse and the Flower

As a cruel sun watched over her, Larishi carefully nursed her waterskin, the cold water tasting almost as sweet as nectar. Each sip soothed the desert-dweller’s dry throat and returned moisture to her cracked lips, but still it was not enough. This summer proved to be harsher than those in previous years and she had foolishly underestimated its strength when preparing for her journey. She’d assumed that the usual amount of provisions would suffice but now here she was, caught in the midst of the dunes, just a little over halfway between the port town and the hidden oasis that she called home, with less than a mouthful of water left to sustain her.

“Why am I so stupid? I should’ve listened to the others, they tried to warn me,” said Larishi with a sigh. Below her, as if trying to complain about their predicament, her camel let out a hearty grunt. “Quiet down there,” Larishi commanded, “you need water far less than I! Given how much you drank before we left, you should be good for at least a week. I, however, can’t say the same… I should’ve just filled my reserves when I had the chance, but I felt so sure that we’d have enough! I didn’t want to spend any more coin than I already had to.”

“Times are tough, afterall,” she told her mount. “Not even just for me, but for everyone in the tribe. Just a month ago Mohstan had to barter off his ****; he couldn’t afford to keep her. Though to be honest, that poor girl is probably better off without him. I’m sure even you heard the way she’d scream from time to time… I don’t want to know what he was doing to her in that tent of his.”

Larishi peered down the neck of her waterskin, eyeing the final drops of liquid. “Though it could always be worse,” she muttered. “The merchants were saying that bandits in the area have been a lot more active as of late. I suppose we should count ourselves lucky that we haven’t encountered any of them.”

Around her, the wind swelled, kicking up enough sand to render her effectively blind. The desert-dweller clenched her eyes shut and buried her face into the thick scarf wrapped around her neck, far from eager to spend the last dregs of her water flushing out sand from her eyes or some other orifice.

Once the wind had died back down and the dust had settled, she raised her head once more to find a queer sight awaiting her. Atop the dune directly ahead was a misshapen mass, jutting out from the sand.

Larishi urged her mount forward, a morbid curiosity overtaking her. In the desert, it wasn’t uncommon to come across a corpse, though it was always unpleasant. All too often travellers would get separated from their parties during a sand storm or would wind up getting themselves lost while making a foolish attempt to cross the desert solo.

The dunes are as unforgiving as they are harsh, Larishi thought as she climbed down from her mount to get a closer look. It takes a special kind of person to survive in such an environment, let alone thrive. Everyone wants to believe that they are the exception… they never are…

The corpse laid face-down in the sand, their head resting on an outstretched arm. Their lower half was already buried but they hadn’t been dead for so long as to be consumed fully by the desert. Hovering over the still body, Larishi felt her heart ache for the unfortunate stranger. Whether by choice or by coincidence, they had fallen just a little over an arm’s reach from a desert flower. A lush lily with pale orange petals that eagerly basked in the light of even the most vicious of suns. It leapt from the sand, striking and bold, unhindered by the desolate land that it called home.

“Such is the nature of this land,” Larishi mused with a chuckle. Such thoughts made her feel like a poet. “That which can survive such cruel conditions is destined to become stronger and greater than any would think possible, and more cherished than any treasure. Afterall, in the desert, beauty is not simply a matter of appearance, it is determined by your spirit.”

The desert-dweller debated for a moment whether or not to pluck the flower, her hand hovering around its stem before ultimately deciding to leave it be. “Such a beauty is not mine to pluck,” she told herself.

Turning back to the corpse, Larishi grimaced. This was the part that she truly despised: the looting. It felt wrong despite knowing that they had no further need for any of their possessions. In truth, it was simple, either she could claim anything of value as her own or let it be buried by the sands and lost forever, wasted.

Eager to get the job done as quickly as possible, Larishi gripped the corpse by its shoulders and rolled it onto its back. The action eliciting from the body a groan loud enough to startle her. “Leave me,” it murmured, the words falling from bleeding lips coated in sand. Larishi watched in stunned awe as tired eyes flickered open, revealing soft brown orbs hidden beneath dusty lids. They looked to her, only for just a moment, before flickering shut once more.

“You’re alive…” Larishi gasped, eyes wide in disbelief. “How are you alive?”

The desert-dweller fumbled over herself as she rushed to procure her waterskin. Pulling free the cork she was reminded of just little remained. “You need this more than I,” she whispered gently, tilting the stranger’s head back just enough to pour the liquid into their mouth. The stranger gulped hard. No doubt their body was shocked to receive even a single drop of water after what must have been an age without.

Larishi’s mind was racing just as much as her heart. Never had she imagined that she’d find herself in such a situation. The stranger that she now held in her arms murmured incoherently, clearly teetering on the edge of ****, and yet she couldn't determine the best way to proceed. “Outsiders can’t be brought to the oasis,” she reminded herself, “not unless they're slaves, but you’re clearly not a ****… Right? I can’t see any branding.”

She fumbled with the stranger’s scarf and cloak, searching both their neck and torso for the markings of a ****. Her search yielded no results. The stranger’s light-toned skin, though rough to the touch and covered in burns from where the sun had pierced through the fabrics that they wore, was free of any man-made markings.

What Larishi did find was a plump purse of coin strung around the stranger’s neck and tucked between their breasts, as well as an ornate dagger tucked into their belt.

“You’re definitely not a ****,” Larishi said, snatching both the purse and the weapon before covering the girl back up out of fear of what damage further exposure might cause. “You seem better off than some merchants I know, makes me wonder how you ever got yourself into this mess. Though I suppose it’s more important to figure out how to get you out of said mess.”

“I could always lie, say that you’re new on the market and have yet to be branded. That might be enough to get you past the patrols, but then what do I do when you wake up? What if they ask why I bothered to buy a half-dead ****? What if they see past my lies?”

No answers came to Larishi’s questions but she knew that she was running low on time. She had to make a choice: to either void herself of responsibility and leave the stranger to die or accept the many risks being posed and bring them back to the oasis.

“I don’t know what to do…” groaned the desert-dweller, frustrated with her own indecisiveness. “If my tribe found out the truth, they would have you killed without hesitation, but if I leave you here, **** is guaranteed… You’ve clung to life for so long, I don’t want it to be for nothing…”

She turned to look again at the flower, so strong and beautiful. Surely it had struggled in its own way, surely it had endured moments where its survival would have been called into question. Yet it had persisted, just as the stranger cradled in Larishi’s arms continued to persist.

Her camel grunted loudly, clearly dissatisfied with the addition of further weight onto its back, but Larishi was quick to shush him. “You’ll be fine, this girl can’t possibly weigh more than me,” she said, checking over the ropes once more to assure that the stranger was properly fixed to the saddle. “Besides, it’s not like you have to carry us both. I’m fine to walk the rest of the way.”

“Please… Spare me…” said the girl, murmuring yet again, though this time their voice was noticeably less ragged.

“Don’t try to speak,” Larishi warned, “you need to conserve your energy. Just rest, you don’t need to be afraid. I promise that you’re in good hands now, I will take care of you.”

“Please…” the stranger echoed before growing silent. For a moment Larishi feared the worst but a quick inspection revealed that the girl was still breathing at a steady pace and had simply drifted back into an **** state.

“Come,” said Larishi, speaking now to her camel as she tugged on its reins. “We still have some distance left to cover and I doubt we have any time left to spare.”