The magical caged wagon buckled slightly under the shifting dunes. The wheels creaked and groaned as a lithe form moved back and forth in the cage, her lavender gaze not breaking away from the snake that slithered beneath the golden sand’s surface. A smile creeped upon her cracked lips. The chains that held her legs pulled painfully in protest as she laid upon her belly and reached her arm out the ironed cage and tried to grasp the limbless reptile. She glanced quickly at the procession in front, all six of her jailers were adorned with light silk and tartan shemaghs. They sat mounted upon their large lizardmounts, the roan scales glistened underneath the spinning flaming orb that floated high above the Echelon of Inferno, akin to what was described as the sun on the surface world. 

They rode for a tenday straight, stopping only when the heat got too much for the lizardmounts to handle. The Dunes of Carnage were a dangerous travelling road filled with creatures beneath the dunes one could only see in their nightmares. Nyym did not understand where they were taking her, for she wore no slave’s collar nor a servant’s garb, these were not asar or any other fancy worded bounty hunter, just simple mercenaries and yet, they bore down upon her little brook and kidnapped her. Whoever paid her capture better be one of the handsomest men in all the Echelons. 

Watching the snake slither away from her grasp, she laid there, her fingers brushing across the fine golden sand, listening to the mercenaries speak about the same mundane speech - who killed most imps or who slept with the most girls. Although it was entertaining at first, watching them beat their chests and boast of their false victories, now it was plain boring and annoying. Nyym sighed, her gaze wandering on the never ending horizon, filled with shifting sands and little dracovins, swooping down to catch the bugs and other lizard beings. There was a smell of perpetual burnt ashes and sulphur, and the stink was always at its thickest in the Dunes of Carnage. Underground pools of magma and lava would erupt and consume unsuspecting, or stupid travellers - hence the dramatic name. 

Nyym was bored. She hated this long journey, especially when nothing excitable happened. She wished some creature below would appear. The fight between a hellish beast and the mercenaries would be fun to watch. But alas, she was destined to have her mind wither and fray, as the jailers carted her off to some unknown destination. 

Contemplation was easy when one has nothing to do. She missed her little brook in the Echelon of Unda. There was little light in such an echelon, tall stalagmites and crystal pillars stood on high, providing light. Vast lakes and rivers stretched wide, there you can find corals and fish that glowed vibrantly, adding to the beauty of Nyym’s ancestral home. She missed it dearly. 

Exhaling deeply, she rolled over to her back, lavender eyes still staring out at the red and gold dunes, praying for excitement. 

‘Halt!’ she heard one man cry out. 

The magical wagon stopped at the command. Sitting up, she moved to the other side of the wagon and pulled back the covering. She saw the lizardmounts nervously pawing at the sand, large nostrils sniffing and huffing. One jailer pulled out a spyglass from the saddle and set it against his eye. Nyym watched him scan the horizon and shake his head. 

‘Nothing on the horizon, Captain,’ he exclaimed. 

The captain at the front humphed, turning his mount around and snatched the seeing contraption. He too scanned the horizon from all fronts. Nyym could see clearly that it agitated the captain. She would be perturbed too if she couldn’t see what made the mounts nervous. 

‘What should we do, Captain?’ another man asked.

Setting the spyglass down, Nyym saw him ponder the question deeply. From underneath her caged wagon, she felt something move and quiver. Her stomach dropped in fear and her umber coloured skin lost its vibrant hue. Something was pursuing them. Like the predatory finned serpents of the river, she knew that the dunes housed their own terrifying sand monsters. 

‘Danaze is not too far from here. Jaatun, ride swiftly and tell His Hellish Presence Aariman, that the cargo will await for him there.’ 

Nyym spotted the yellow robed and green-haired man nod and turn his lizardmount west. With a kick to the roan scaled hide, the reptilian beast scampered off quickly, disappearing into the glistening crimson horizon. 

‘Let us proceed,’ the captain spoke up, and the wagon moved again. Nyym let go of the heavy cotton cover, settling into the nook of the wagon. Muttering the name Aariman and wondering if she even knew a devilord by that name. 

I never even met a devilord. By all the imps! Why did this Aariman pay to have a water nymph captured?

Her crying thoughts went answered.