Chapter One

Sand.

Like dirt, but not quite.

Sand.

Neither her brother’s eyes nor hers could see the end of it. The stuff just happened an endless amount, until days bled to weeks, and weeks crinkled out an eternity. An endless sea of grains with wavy hills that never depleted or ran out. Katatene’s feet plodded on through the not-quite-dirt, her legs hardly strong enough to lift.

“The heat,” her brother Rooven said dryly. Neither cadence nor personality dressing his words, outfitted solely to shade the heat with something more than the somber notes of nothing’s silent orchestra.

Kat looked at him, her feet felt blistered and hot, she smiled at him. A barren smile, like her brother’s words; deflated. About as lively as a cadaveric spasm. Her white robe desecrated by the sand that flew freely in the harsh wind. Every step prelim to the skin breaking beneath her toes.

Rooven stopped himself, unstrapping the cloth bag from over his shoulder. And Kat stopped with him. An action that felt more tiring than restful; her momentum gone now. The bag dropped into the sand, he cradled his aching shoulder. Kat’s shoulders were sore as well. Albeit, likely not as much. They were on rotation over who carried the satchel.

It was Roo’s turn.

Kat let out a breath of air from her lungs, so dry and so agonizing an act she couldn’t help but chuckle at her own dismay. Roo cackled back, sounding as if he would kill over before the day’s end. Into the bag next, first unfastening the crudely done knot applied by Kat, Roo brought out a large jug of water, plucked free the cork, and took a long and deep swig of the warm liquid.

Kat noticed some of the water go down his chin and drivel down his undressed torso. All she could think about is how he was drinking all of HER water! Soon, she found her childish angst muffled, because, after all, she drank nearly a third of it in the first hours while he hadn’t even had a drop. He drank with both hands clasped onto the bottle. At last, he finished, looking like he had to pry himself away from the jug to keep from chugging it all down in one interval.

He gasped for air, then grinned, amused by his own over indulgence.

“You’re happy now,” Katalene said, taking the jug from him. Roo dropped the cork off into the palm of her hand, still breathing heavy. She took a quick and fast gulp of water to moisten her throat, “But when you’re cringing in pain from a stomach ache, you’re going to wish you rationed that out a little better.” Kat took a bigger drink, though, still much smaller than Roo’s.

The taste was exquisite, deeply strengthened by the blistering heat that beamed down on them. Katalene plugged it back up with the cork and dropped it back into the bag, pulling at the strings and readying for it to be tied.

Roo rested his hands over hers, almost seeming loving with his gentleness, but then, like the mean-spirited cretin she knew him to be, he threw her hands off. A sly smile from him. “I think I’ll tie it this time, like to keep it out of a knot I can’t untie.” A hearty chuckle came next, but it was followed up by a queasy reflux. He cupped his hand over his mouth fast.

“You always have to be stubborn, don’t you? Willing to let yourself kill-over by the heat rather than taking a drink. It never pays off for you, do things in moderation and you wouldn’t be about to throw-up all over the whole Whispey Deserts!” Kat steadied her demeanor somewhere between jesting banter and controlled annoyance.

“You think you know me so well.”

“I know you’re an idiot.”

“Big deal,” Rooven replied. “Everybody knows that.”

Once tying the strings of the bag into a knot, Rooven lugged up the bag and threw it over his shoulders. Kat noticed the lighter parts of skin on her brother’s shoulder from where the sack had blocked the sun’s rays.

They pressed on deeper into the never-ending Whispey Deserts, and once more, the view ahead offered nothing except for, … exactly that, … it offered nothing. Except sand, of course.

Katalene had read once before about mirages in the desert, about seeing things that weren’t there. How that hope sounded delectable, even if it would be found fictitious soon later. Seeing the illusion of an abandoned castle, filled with gold coin and freshly made food, at least they’d have a glimpse of something substantial to show for their troubles.

“We still haven’t found anything,” Kat mumbled, her body felt much more rejuvenated from the water moistening her lungs, though her feet still ached.

“And that’s your problem.” Roo answered back. “If I’m the stubborn glutton, then you’re the impatient one.”

Kat let out a fake laugh, glaring at her brother, but she knew he was right.

The Whispey Deserts earned its reputation in their village for a reason.

The Deserts could make or break you, and more often than not, it was the latter. Hence why their family never exactly got behind the idea of them voyaging about the sandy plains in search of riches. That was fine though. The folks and relatives would see reason by the time they found the treasures they were looking for.

But, for now, they had no idea of any treasure’s whereabouts, had no idea where they were headed, except a crudely drawn map by their Uncle Morgis they nicked out from his private quarters back home.

The map wasn’t specific. Old and worn, it offered only a general overview of some things. However, it was difficult to figure out how far along they were or distinguish when they were closing in on something.

Nobody had ever made it to the desert’s end, or at least, nobody ever returned to tell of what they saw. Many believed the deserts simply went on forever and ever, until leading back to Zeal. Zeal was the name given to the area that had Tuncid, the much-larger Jerleak, and some other areas Katalene hadn’t heard of.

Life in the desert was hard to maintain. Most didn’t even bother attempting it and found greener pastures, and the others only lived, at most, a few miles deep. Roo and Kat, they lived in Wilson, a small, but well-respected and known village in Tuncid. A beautiful village with green grass, healthy flowers, thriving agriculture, and well-managed tradition. Looking into the endless sands, Kat found herself almost missing what she had left behind. Almost.

Opportunity. Beneath the sands and the sun, the Whispey Deserts had opportunity. A chance for excitement and purpose, and a chance to excel beyond ones’ own limitations, be it financial or religious. Uncle Morgis did.

But as Roo and Kat looked around, they didn’t see much opportunity sticking out from any of the sand’s crevices. Only large hills, smaller hills, and large hills again.

Kat tried to keep from becoming discouraged. After all, if finding something in the Whispey Deserts was easy then everybody would have done it to death and drained it dry… drier.

The Deserts had pyramids and tombs, and treasures buried. Morgis said even the largest pyramids couldn’t be spotted because the winds. Kat felt the sands slapping against her face, becoming caked onto her from the sweat. They had been walking for only a few hours, but their battered bodies stood to emphasize why so few ventured in and took the risk.

“How far do you reckon Morgis goes out, he’s an older man and all, so he can’t possibly go too much further than this.” Roo called out, using his forearm to cover the front of his face from the winds.

“For every one time he finds something, Morgis says there’s another twenty or so he doesn’t. Besides, he’s more of a merchant these days, buying low and selling high.” Kat replied plainly. She wasn’t happy about finding nothing yet, but she accepted it, and expected it going in.

“What if we have to go back?”

Kat shot a mad look back at Rooven, whose face was neither playful nor joking, but exhausted. Walking slower and with less oomph than before, he looked damn-near defeated. Because of this, Kat cooled her demeanor, but spoke stern, “If we go back, we go back to them. To nothing.”

Rooven nodded his head, too tired to speak his rebuttal, Katalene responded by offering the same. When Kat noticed Roo pampering his shoulder, she offered to carry the bag, for which, he begrudgingly allowed.

The tranquil thoughts of yesteryear came to Kat, perhaps only out of boredom. Of a childhood when sticks and stones held relevance. Battling lefts and rights, swinging twigs at one another, pretending they were swords. She reflected on how Roo would take it easy on her because she was his younger sister. But now, years later, his absolute best would not be enough to defeat her. Now, it always ended with the back of his head down on the dirt with the stick at his neck, herself towering over him. Rooven was a lover not a fighter. Kat knew that. She, on the other-hand, was unsure of where she fell.

Her fingers felt the hilt of her sword. It never left its scabbard, unless in training. But never in active combat, something, for which, she was grateful.

She smiled to herself, battling sticks. When she was a child, nothing mattered, not money or power, or need for grandeur. Little things had such importance.

Things weren’t like that anymore.

Roo and Kat walked on for a while, searching with nary a course to their travels, simply walking fourth in a general direction: Forward. Morgis’ map circled and dotted locations, but since they hadn’t the faintest idea the mass of the Desert, they would never know when they traveled too far.

They would travel together until one of them died, probably, and then, the other one would die shortly therafter. Kat was fine with that. If they came back empty-handed, their family would kill them for leaving for the Deserts.

Beneath their feet though, at last, they felt something strange and bizarre, something hard, like buried treasure or a large rock. Most likely, a large rock.

They both looked at one another with skeptic, but enthused looks.

“Huh,” Roo said, and that had been the first words out of either of their mouths for some time. He stepped forward, stomping down on the sandy plains, sand flew about, but didn’t help uncover what the object was that caught their attention. It could have been nothing, just a random spot where the sand congregated and accumulated into a dirt clod. (Sand clod?) The environment could be uncompromising and rude like that, and for no good reason at all.

Roo and Kat both walked on. The object seemed to etch itself upward in the sand like a hill. “I have no idea what it could be.” Roo remarked, scratching the back of his neck.

“The wind blows hard here,” Kat said, illustrating her words by raising her right-hand like she was presenting the wind to come up and accept some award or trophy. “Maybe, something really, really big got buried over the years.”

“Like a tomb?”

“Maybe, or something smaller like a coffin, not everybody was a Pharaoh back then.”

Rooven dropped himself to one-knee, still over the sand-clod, or rock, in question. Meanwhile, Kat stood, holding the bag strapped over her shoulder. He began by dusting off the sand with his hand, trying to uncover whatever was beneath them. But, as he did so, nothing distinguished itself, the color, no doubt, faded by the hot-sun and sand that rose over it. “Whatever it is, it’s hard, as hard as a rock,” Rooven said, eyeballing it with high intrigue.

Kat sighed. “So, it’s a rock?”

Roo shot a look over to Kat, seeming annoyed. “It doesn’t feel like a rock.”

Rooven climbed back up to his feet, wiping the sand off from his clothe leggings. Sweat plagued his long-dark hair, the hair which Kat highly recommended him shave before the expedition. He looked down from off the large-hill of sand, and for the first time, Kat really started to admire the shear size of it as well. The peak of the hill was huge, and going up, it just became bigger and bigger. The curve was notable, and it looked almost like someone could simply slide down the top of the hill. A strange shape for an ordinary rock. It spanned for about thirty, thirty-five, maybe forty feet from beginning to end.

Kat continued admiring the spectacle, completely flabbergasted by it. In-comparison, Roo seemed almost unamused. He was at first excited about finding something after all the exploration, but now, he only cared about what it was and how to sell it. Knocking on it with the top of his toe, Roo observed no sound, whatever it was, it wasn’t hollow. And was still, almost certainly, a rock.

Kat kept her eyes traveling around the sanded outline, but found no distinguishable clue for what it could be. She thought about heading over to the bottom and simply beginning to dig it out. If it was a tomb, maybe she could cause a cave-in, exposing a door-way on the side or something. If it was pure, solid gold, it still wouldn’t be that much to their benefit. They hadn’t the tools to move an item of such bulk. Uncle Morgis would be willing to assist them, but only for nine-tenths of the profit. And that was assuming they’d be able to find it a second time.

Roo slid down a steep side of the hill, bringing down sand with him that stuck to the sweat on his back. He turned around, slapping his hands together, fleeing the intrusive sand from the crevices between his fingers. Kat simply stood, holding the bag.

“Any ideas what it is?” Kat asked, yelling, because the whistling winds talked over her when she didn’t.

“It looks like a statue or a monument,” Roo said, his hands over his mouth like a funnel as he yelled. “It is definitely worth something though,” he sounded enthused with that line. He skidded his fingers over it. “There are impressions and indentations on it. Immaculate attention to detail, and I bet it looks terrific when it’s been polished well.”

Roo started climbing back up the hill. Kat threw out her hand and helped pull him back up with her. Their eyes met, and exchanged with each other their exasperated expressions. Roo looked down at it for what fell like the millionth time, this time like he was looking at it differently with his new found discoveries.

Roo jumped on it and landed. Jumped on it and landed. A hard sound came each time. But nothing else happened. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t break or crack simply by the exertion and weight of a one-hundred and fifty-pound teenager.

“I can at least say it isn’t a rock,” confirmed Roo.

“Shame it doesn’t come in a size smaller than this,” Kat replied, the energy she once felt had left her. A large statue wouldn’t be of much use to them if they couldn’t bring it back to Wilson.

“I don’t want to share this with Morgis, the old bastard has enough.”

“If it were a ring or a suit of armor, it’d be different, but with this, we don’t really have much of a choice, do we?”

“I suppose not.” Roo admitted, sounding glum and disappointed.

“This is something though, we can’t forget that. Morgis won’t completely fuck us over. He’ll cut us in on at least a finder’s fee percentile, that should get us somewhere.”

Roo’s demeanor didn’t seem too uplifted by Kat’s words, and perhaps, they shouldn’t have been. The whole expedition had been premeditated for months, their mother and father both being of the work-work-work persuasion could never understand their yearning for adventure, for excitement, or why they hated their mundane and rudimentary lives. If they would come back with riches and riches, that might shut their mouths, but any treasure of Morgis’ wouldn’t be a treasure of their own.

Still, as long as it got them a one-way ticket to Jerleak, it didn’t really matter.

“We can keep looking for a little bit too,” Kat added. “Maybe we will find something else too. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”

Roo smiled. “All that matters is we’re out of Tuncid when it’s over, and that you’re happy.”

Kat smiled back. They both wanted this for themselves.

But then, it moved.

The rock, that is.

Beneath their feet.

But, not a rock, evidently not.

It twitched, shaking the foundations of itself like an earthquake, sand sprouted off of it in the air. Katalene and Rooven both struggled to keep themselves at a vertical basis. As Kat’s eyes looked down at the lower-side of the hill, she saw something waggling, slapping back in fourth, from one side of the ground to the other.

A tail.

“Fuck,” is all Katalene could think to say as a reaction.

The tail was only the first of many things to become visible out from beneath the sand. After that, her head turned the other direction and, at a glimpse, she saw the head of the creature. But, it was only a glimpse. The creature bucked both Kat and her brother off from its back, sending them up into the air before they tumbled off into the sand.

The fall was enough to knock the wind out of her, as the momentum rolled Kat backward a few times over until she finally landed on her back. Roo fell further and faster than her, his chest breaking the fall and keeping Katalene’s head from knocking back. She felt his hand on the top of her head, “Are you alright?” he whispered weakly, but Kat was too far from not alright to find an answer.

Grains soared off into the air like a tidal wave while the serpent slapped its body around back in fourth. It kept Katalene from having a clear look at the monster before them, but she could assume the gist. The sand swallowed them whole for a time, and at moments, they saw nothing overhead or all around them except for sand. Katalene found herself gagging when sand went beyond her lips and filled her lungs. She coughed and coughed, feeling Roo slap at her back in an attempt of assistance.

Roo mustered the strength to find way back to his feet, and afterward, assisted Kat back to her feet as well. By that time though, the sand had fallen back to where it belonged, and with their hands no longer having to cover their faces, they were allotted a clear-picture of their foe: a dragon.

Like none in the history books, and none in the children’s tales. It lacked the polish, beauty, or elegance of such a creature. Large. The Creature towered over them with terrific height. Its face looked more gorilla than lizard, beaten down and disfigured, haggard after what was likely an eternal sleep. It had large, floppy ears dangling all the way down to its torso. It didn’t have scales like Kat had come to expect from fiction’s portrayal. But it didn’t have fur or feathers either, more like a layer of thick charcoal-black skin that seemed to sag some at his stomach and torso, but was fitted hard at the back. Its eyes were an emerald-green.

Even in the hotness of the desert, Kat felt chills slither up her spine, dampened by the beads of sweat that went down. Kat stepped back for a moment. The Dragon Creature was only looking at them now. Not reacting. It looked bewildered.

Kat nudged her brother; a feeling of panic coursed through her veins that wouldn’t waiver or be silenced. Her brother, who seemed more intent on scavenging up what was knocked from their sack than fleeing, had to be tugged by the wrist and made to oblige.

Their feet scampered on. The blisters and aching sensations adamant, but ignored. Kat could tell from Roo’s face he was in-shock, but she felt the anxiety with complete and utter clarity.

Behind them, Kat could hear the Dragon’s feet stamping down. The sound of something else could also be heard. Kat found herself describing it in her head as the sound of someone trying to whistle and failing, but it was so faint underneath the sounds of their feet she couldn’t find a more precise description than that.

The fact they hadn’t already been crushed meant something, Kat knew that much, and for that, she forced herself to turn her head and see the Dragon Creature behind them. It followed them, but at a slow speed, taking its time. However, the very second it met eyes with Katalene, it made a presumptive swipe at her with its tail. This meant, of course, a swipe at Rooven as well, but with himself having a lead ahead of Katalene, he was able to evade the brunt of the attack.

Kat, on the other-hand, felt its tail smack against her stomach, and in that second, felt as though everything had expired and been lost. In that second, she felt as if she had been sliced in half. She crashed off into the sand, the ache of her mid-section and spine, all of it feeling disjointed somehow, or broken. There was the rustic taste of blood on her tongue.

Katalene rested her head down into the sand. Everything felt uncomfortable and peculiar, but the feeling was not agonizing pain. She wanted to shut her eyes.

For the first time in her life, Katalene believed she was going to die.

The Dragon Creature stood in-front of them. It didn’t look frustrated or annoyed, or like it wanted to kill them. However, from the suffering she felt, which included some broken ribs, she could assume with reasonable certainty that it wasn’t friendly.

Time stopped. Metaphorically, not literally. Time stopped. Katalene no longer felt herself breathing, no longer heard the noise of the sand. The Dragon Creature sat, perched like a statue, completely still. Its eyes with a serious, urgent, and wide stare.

The Creature brought its face down toward Katalene. It was within only a few feet of her. Large, black pupils within the dark-green, and they were aimed at her without much thought or emotion. Attentive though. It looked more confused than anything else. It’s nostrils were large, and in one sniff, Katalene felt her scent being taken in by the Dragon.

The Dragon Creature licked its lips, and in doing so, it exposed its large teeth. Yellow. Not like they were rotting, but more to say they were stained by the sands. The sands which had dominion over everything. The Creature bobbed its head back away from Katalene, like a python backing away for a strike.

Katalene braced herself for her own demise, but found herself and the Dragon taken aghast by her brother’s attempted heroism.

The water jug, the only thing Rooven managed to keep his hands on in the scrap of it all, didn’t make for that powerful of a weapon, but it was enough to shake the unintelligible psyche of the Dragon.

It jerked its head back fast, its stability temporarily disrupted, but once it regained itself, Rooven had already lifted Katalene off of the sand and over his shoulders.

The act was not done with much poise. His body long-since drained, but off adrenaline, he started to flee, running around the distracted dragon.

Soon came the sound of either a roar or a squawk behind them. The noise sounded dry and weak, but still ever-so unsettling. Katalene could feel Roo’s legs quicken from the sound.

Regardless of her brother’s efforts, Katalene knew if the Dragon decided it wanted them dead, they would be. Kat saw Roo’s head turn back at the Dragon, whose feet made muffled stomps with every step. Turning his head back, Roo did the worst thing he could have done in the situation.

He tripped.

The very same spot in-which the Dragon Creature was once resting made for a large indention into the sand plains, and like that, Katalene, alongside her brother, were rolling down into what would most likely end up being a bowl for the dragon’s next meal.

Katalene’s body ached the whole way down in her dissension. She could feel her cracked ribs protruding against her stomach, yearning to break free from her skin. It felt like everything in her mind had stopped working, or was starting to stop work. But, be it adrenaline or shock, or something in-between, she kept herself from losing consciousness.

She tried to lift herself off the sand with her hands, but they buckled in seconds. Roo, however, was soon back to his feet, and he walked over to her, not even stopping to dust the sand off himself.

But, in the midst of that, he came to a halt. About four or five feet away from her is where he stopped. He was looking down at something beneath him. He stomped his foot, and with it, made a peculiar knocking sound.

Kat took in a breath of air, which only sent a larger surge of agony up her chest.

The Dragon had won. They wouldn’t be able to outrun it, and like it had always said in the storybooks, everything had slowed down before her to prolong her demise. Roo, on the other-hand, wasn’t giving up. Her brother kneeled to his knees like he was about to make a prayer, … which Kat assumed was the equivalent of giving up.

But, he wasn’t, instead, he swept around some of the sand and exposed a wooden plank on the ground. It looked worn and barely held together. How it was not crushed by the dragon’s weight was miraculous.

His eyes went away from the plank and up to where the dragon stood. Quite large, but standing off to the side of the hole, it looked even bigger. It took one foot forward, descending partially down to their level and causing most of the sand to cave in the process. Roo moved around hurriedly, taking some effort to lift the wooden plank.

Katalene crawled over to him. Then, using her knees to crawl back to her feet, she helped him lift at it. At last, they pried one side of it up in the air, not really knowing what to expect, but what they saw was not one of the possibilities they imagined. A wooden staircase that went down and down, and down some more, with a roofing over head to keep the sand from piling in.

Katalene and Rooven didn’t take time to voice skepticism, thinking only about their survival from the fiendish creature in-front of them. They both walked down the stairs, letting go of the wooden plank before they descended.

The puckering sound of the Dragon came from behind them, and soon after came a wind.

Katalene fell, having to lean on Rooven to keep from tumbling all the way down the stairs, but Rooven managed to keep his footing.

The Dragon’s winds were felt, but not tremendous, behind them, they could also hear the sound as it bit the wooden plank off from its hinges with ease. The siblings both ignored it though, and only continued down the stairs, by a point, they were far enough down to be safe, but that didn’t stop them. Their movements slowed, but didn’t cease, and then, the stairs ended.

They were in complete and total blackness. But they were alive and that was more than Katalene had any reason to expect.