Sea of Sand, Dragon Heart Series Book 4

It was almost impossible to come across someone in the street while the scorching midday sun was high in the sky. Here at the border with the Sea of Sand, no one dared to venture outside the relief-giving walls of taverns and hotels. The small town, surrounded by walls made of yellow stone, stood on huge golden and orange dunes that stretched across the horizon. They seemed to loom overhead like the waves of a raging sea and threatened to overwhelm the little settlement and the sparse vegetation surrounding it. Here, in the vicinity of the town named Three Horseshoes, one could still find the occasional bushes and low trees sprouting from dry, red earth, and sometimes even springs flowing through canyons. But no one went there, as everyone knew that the canyons were where the bandits lived. Fortunately, every border town had a deep well with tasty, and, most importantly, cold, clean water. At this time of day, with the sun’s rays bearing down so mercilessly that even the camels were hiding in the shadows, people mostly stayed in teahouses. In one of them, a middle-aged man was sitting on some comfortable pillows. He was wearing a caftan and a turban on his head, holding a pipe. His pointed beard was a little gray, but the cool gaze of his almost black eyes and the curved hilt of a broadsword meant that people didn’t bother him. “Thank you, darling,” the man nodded, taking another bowl of hot tea from a waitress. It may have seemed odd, but the Bedouins and residents of the Sea of Sand always drank only hot beverages. That way, they kept cool. They had to spend a huge amount of money on incense, as they wanted to cover the stench of their own sweat. The hotter the drink was, the more they sweated, and the more they sweated, the cooler they felt, which led to more incense to cover the smell. A month ago, Hadjar had considered this to be made up, but now he was calmly sipping hot tea while observing the far table. A young man was sitting across from him. He kept glancing at the waitress with the kettle. There was definitely something to admire there: her thin, silk clothes were translucent enough to draw the eye of anyone so inclined. “Are you listening to me, Shakh?” the man grinned, having noticed that the young man was distracted by the waitress. “Yes, uncle,” Shakh nodded, adjusting the sash that held his curved daggers. “Of course I’m listening to you.” “Are you sure? It seems to me like you’re looking at the thighs of that desert emerald instead.” Hadjar raised his bowl and the girl poured him some tea. Hadjar saw the small spark in her green eyes — all that remained of a once blazing fire. The girl was obviously tired, and her bronze skin had even turned slightly gray due to her weariness. Alas, that didn’t bother the owner of the institution, who continued to ‘exploit’ his only employee, as well as the young man named Shakh. “No, uncle, I’m listening to you attentively,” Shakh kept insisting. “Are you sure you want to go to the Empire with me, Shakh?” the man scratched his beard as he looked into his nephew’s eyes, as if trying to find the answer to his question there. “It’s a long journey,” he continued. “We’ll end up traversing the entire Sea of Sand. Our transport is simple: camels and Desert Beasts at the stage of the Awakening of Power, no higher. We’ll be gone for at least three years. This isn’t some month-long jaunt in a caravan of nobles.” “I don’t have the money to travel with nobles, uncle.” “But your father does,” the man shrugged his shoulders and called the waitress over with a gesture. The girl immediately went over to him, bracelets jangling on her bare ankles, and splashed some more fragrant tea into his bowl. After a moment, she moved on to the next table. The tables were wide and round, with short legs, almost resting on the ground. There were no chairs, just cushions, and the ceiling was a round hole covered with dry branches and mats. Hot air would quickly leave the room through such a ceiling, making way for life-giving coolness. Hadjar hadn’t been able to get used to that for a long time, nor to the fact that during the several months of his journey to the border of the Sea of Sand, it hadn’t rained at all. “He doesn’t want me going to the Empire,” Shakh sighed, sipping at his bowl as if a fortified wine was splashing around inside it. “I can understand your father’s reasons. My brother is wise.” The young man’s eyes flashed menacingly and he flushed. “Your brother wants me to dig wells all my life, just like him!” “Because you are the eldest son of the eldest brother,” the man ignored the boy’s outburst. “That is our tradition, Shakh. Besides, where will you find a person richer than a good well digger in the Sea of Sand? Everybody needs water. Even the best practitioners!” “What if I don’t want to be a well digger or a practitioner? Uncle, I could become a cultivator in the Empire! I could walk among the clouds and birds. I could see the world, meet people with different skin colors...” “Look behind you,” the man nodded toward Hadjar, who pretended not to notice it. “You see, underneath our sun, the difference in skin color is rendered almost unnoticeable. The man from Lidus is almost like us now.” Hadjar had really gotten sunburned over the past few months. However, even that tan couldn’t hide his origins from the locals. The quickness with which they’d identified him as being from Lidus was startling and sometimes scary. “Admit it, Shakh, you just want to run away from your father. From your mother. From your sisters. You think that you will gain freedom in the Empire, but that’s just not true. Even if you survive our journey through the Sea of Sand, Darnassus will destroy you. It’s more or less an endless struggle there.” “I’m strong, uncle,” there was determination in Shakh’s eyes now. “Even without my father’s support, I reached the Formation Stage by the age of twelve! Now, at seventeen, I am the best practitioner in town, as you well know.” The man nodded and placed his bowl on the table. “I know, Shakh. No one in town can handle your Technique. The foundation for your Transformation of the Mortal Shell Stage is as strong as the God’s Tooth.”