“What are you doing here?” asked Vlada.

“I… I’ve been waiting here all night, felt sleepy by the morning, and thought that if I took a nap with my back to the door you would wake me up. So you did!” He beamed, looking victorious.

Vlada raised her brows in a silent question.

“I’m coming with you!”

Silence.

“I mean it!” Kangassk insisted, his hands crossed on his chest. “I will follow you anyway. I can’t let you go into the Burnt Region alone!”

“Why not?” thought Vlada. “It’s not like a healthy young man will be a burden on the journey, and what a life can he, a “freak”, have here anyway? Getting away from that city might be a life-changer for him.”

“Are you good with weapons?” she asked quietly.

“Yes!” shouted Kan, unwillingly letting all the energy he prepared for persuading the Wanderer go into this word alone. It made Vlada chuckle.

“Which ones?” She smiled.

“Short bow! I’m the best archer in all Kuldagan!” That could’ve been true considering how rare archers are in a desert with too many rocks and too few trees. “Also swords, daggers, clubs, you name it. I’m a smith’s apprentice, so I’ve had some practice with every type of weapon I ever made”.

“Okay, I got it. Let’s go…” Vlada shrugged and signed Kan to follow her.

They left the city through the gates, still unattended and wide open.

Close to the mountain pass between Kuldagan and No Man’s Land the desert suddenly decides not to give up without a fight. Every dune becomes a tall rampart you have to storm if you want to keep going, every step takes you twice the effort.

Kangassk and Vlada travelled on foot, the Wanderers’ way. At first, the young man walked with a spring in his step, feeling all brave and inspired. He even tried to take the backpack from Vlada again to carry it along with his own. Two hours later he was secretly glad she hadn’t allowed him to do this. After two more hours, the journey, however short it seemed, had tired him out completely. He could barely walk, too exhausted even to be ashamed of himself for dragging his feet on the sand like an old man. Meanwhile, the girl kept walking at a steady pace like a true Wanderer raised among the dunes would.

“Wouldn’t it be better to travel in the night when it’s cool?” Kan asked her.

“No, it wouldn’t,” she answered in a peremptory tone and kept walking.

Kangassk was too tired to demand an explanation. Instead, he focused on trying his best to keep up with Vlada. Staying awake in daytime was another struggle that kept him busy. Nocturnal habits die hard.

He woke up from his monotonous half-slumber when a hard stone had suddenly replaced the dragging, soft sand under his feet. Kan found himself standing on the ancient road made of grey, time worn cobblestones obviously enchanted to keep the sand away. The edge of the Mountain Ring separating Kuldagan desert from the outer world seemed so close now! The monstrous dunes, Kuldagan’s last ramparts, ended there, fading into a flat rocky surface beside the mountains. Not that it changed much for Kan and his guide, of course, they still had a long way to go, but the view was uplifting.

A shady spot under the lofty black obelisk at the end of the road looked like a good place to rest after all the hours of walking under the merciless sun, so rest they did.

What is the easiest way to make people happy? Just take their basic comforts away for a while, then give them back.

Oh, how pleasant it felt to enter a shade again, to lie down on the ground, to stretch their tired legs, and quench their thirst! Especially the thirst! The best thing? There was no need to ration water: they were just a few days of journey away from Border, so they could drink all they wanted!