• Sharuul was beginning to hate the camels.

    They were a necessary expense in order to transport his abundant trade goods across the ever expanding Pan Desert, but he hated them nonetheless. They reeked of sun baked manure and their bodies were the grazing grounds of every fly within a hundred feet. If they weren't the only beast capable of withstanding Setyra's harsh climates, Sharuul found it hard to believe anyone would keep them around at all.

    "How much further, merchant?" A cracked voice inquired from the back of one of the foul beasts. Sharuul looked sidelong at his only other human companion, a man from further south who seemed to have an odd predisposition of wearing entirely black garb and clothing. He had paid Sharuul in advance to guide him to the next city beyond the desert, but beyond that the merchant had had no other real words with him. He was a foreigner without doubt; his paler complexion and broader build, not to mention his intolerance to the heat was enough to be certain of that, but the rest remained a mystery that Sharuul cared little to find out. His coin was as good as any other.

    "Only a quarter day's ride if the sand permits our passage." The Pan Desert was notorious both for its size and its fury, many a traveler has been buried by its storms. "I believe you'll be able to rest and have a drink of Anatheia before the sun even sets."

    But as Sharuul himself began to daydream of his coming respite, the shrouded man suddenly stood up in his saddle and placed a hand to his brow, shielding from the sun's glare. Sharuul followed his gaze across the formless dunes and at first he saw nothing, but then like a mirage, a dark shape appeared. A body laying in the distance, motionless.

    Sharuul pulled out his amulet and kissed it, a prayer to the poor soul who had become yet another victim of the merciless desert, but his companion flew from his seat and began running across the sands in a futile struggle to save the stranger. The merchant swore under his breath as he watched him kneel beside the fallen figure and check for signs of life; it was a pointless effort. Or so he had believed.

    He found himself somewhat stunned when he saw his companion wave him over frantically, for it could only mean one thing: the unknown figure in the sand was still alive. Sharuul extricated himself from his saddle and made his way over as quickly as the sand would allow; and then he received his second shock. The mysterious victim was a young boy barely into adulthood. His hair was an ashen black, his skin light in color, and he wore clothing entirely unsuited for the harsh climate. Sharuul was surprised he managed to survive at all.

    His companion, however, wasted little time. He raised the boy's head upon his knee and removed a water skin from within the folds of his dark cloak, bringing it to the youth's lips and gently pouring it into his awaiting mouth. Once he was finished he replaced the skin on his person and tore off a long strip of cloth that he then wrapped about the boy's head and upper body; a barrier against the sun's rays.

    "May we take him, merchant?" The man asked, already lifting him into his arms. Sharuul scratched his mangled hair in frustration.

    "We have no room for another body."

    "He shall have mine."

    "You would walk?"

    "I would."

    "It would slow us down."

    "It does not matter."

    Sharuul swore openly now and tossed his arms up in exasperation. He hated complications almost as much as he hated the camels.

    "You will pay extra upon arrival." He demanded, and was annoyed when the man nodded his head without hesitation. He made his way back to the caravan and began strapping the boy carefully into the saddle. With a final sigh, Sharuul stomped toward his own steed and whipped the reigns; stirring the beasts back to their task.

    The pace was much slower, now that the cloaked man was forced to walk beside his camel and keep the young boy from falling out of the saddle, but they gradually made their way. Sharuul could think only of the food and drink waiting for him at the city, while behind him a bedraggled youth jostled upon his camel and dreamed of another world.