Frozen, I could only watch, horror clutching at my heart as Caius charged the soldiers, the arrow still sticking out of his back. And then there was another hitting him in the shoulder, a third in the leg, and then the stomach.

“Caius! Caius!” He was still going, still charging them, as if he could still fight, as if he could win. He was going to die. He was going to die so that I could live.

I couldn’t stop crying. My throat felt raw. “Caius…”

He turned, meeting my eye. “Go, Nepha!”

The soldiers were still racing forward, and he grabbed the first one he could, throwing a punch.

I could not look away, and yet I knew with grim certainty that if I was captured now, then Caius’s sacrifice would be for nothing.

“Caius,” I sobbed, throwing one last desperate glance back before I turned and ran.

“Halt, girl!”

I chanced to look back, finding two soldiers running after me.

How could I do this? I was running through sand, slipping, stumbling, sobbing. Caius… I couldn’t believe Caius was gone. I didn’t have anywhere to go in this desert, nowhere to hide. And what was the point if he wasn’t here with me? I had told him not to come. I had tried to get him to stay and keep his life…

It was all my fault. And I was going to die anyway.

In that moment, I did something I hadn’t done since I was four. I prayed to the gods.

Please. Help me.

The last thing I expected was an answer. And yet, seconds later, a sandstorm rose up, swallowing me and the soldiers. All I could see was sand and dirt and wind, with no real notion of what was up or down or right or left.

And neither did the soldiers. I could still hear them shouting, the clank of their armor as they moved in circles.

Will of the gods or not, it was enough.

I started running again, ignoring the stinging sand that hit my face and eyes. Some went in my mouth, and I swallowed it, feeling the burn in my throat.

In the maelstrom of sand, something rose up, tall and petrified. I had no idea what it was, but I didn’t care, huddling next to it. It would shield me from the worst of the sandstorm.

I stayed there, huddled in a ball, feeling layer after layer of sand cover me while I waited for the winds to abate.

***

I had no idea how much time had passed before I was digging myself out. I couldn’t see anything, just desert as far as the horizon. No mountains, no soldiers, no Caius. Nothing.

It hit me then, that I was truly alone in the middle of the Wastelands.

Hearing the light clink of metal, I looked down at the bracelet on my wrist, and another sob escaped. “Caius…” The image of him standing there, arrows sticking out of his body, facing down the soldiers, was seared into my mind.

I knew that it would follow me forever.

Numbly, I picked up my rucksack, only half the food and water inside, and hitched it on my shoulder, shielding my eyes to glance up at the black sun. I had no idea which direction I needed to go in, so I chose at random.

I walked and walked. Hours passed, the sun moving in the sky ever so slowly, the unrelenting heat beating down. I took a drink of water, then another, trying and failing to conserve it until my throat felt dryer than ever and the water was gone.

Not in the entirety of my life had I ever felt as close to death as I did now, as if I would just wither away and die. I stumbled, forcing myself to keep moving even though my whole body was screaming no.

Maybe I should have just stayed in the citadel and let High Mortis Kato sacrifice me. At least I would have been fed until the end. And Caius…Caius would be alive.

Now, he was probably dead or worse, captured and tortured, and I was going to die anyway. His sacrifice would be for nothing.

If I had had the moisture, I would have cried again, but instead I fell to my knees, ready to just lie down, to give up. What hope did I have out here? None. There was no hope. I was doomed. I had escaped one death only to find another.

Suddenly I felt something, a brief touch of cool, and realized a shadow had fallen over me. Maybe it’s a wayward cloud…

I looked up, surprised to find a cloaked figure standing there, their face completely hidden. Was it a cloaked figure? I narrowed my eyes, but they seemed more like a dark blur.

“Are you real?” I murmured through cracked lips.

They said nothing, merely turning and beginning to walk away.

“Hey, wait!” I called, stumbling to my feet and racing after them.

I kept falling, again and again, barely able to stay on my feet, but every time I stumbled, the cloaked figure paused and waited for me to get up again.

But they never walked with me, always at least ten paces ahead.

“Hey!” I called. “Please, who are you?”

I tried over and over again until my throat burned so much it felt as if it was bleeding. I stayed quiet after that, following their shadow, not even bothering to look up at them directly. This was all I could manage.

Where are we going? How much longer? Thoughts drifted in and out, hopes and fears warring inside me as I tried to ignore the pain in my body, the exhaustion I felt. I just wanted to collapse again, to close my eyes and be done with it.

And I might have, had I not stepped onto grass.

After hours of sand beneath my feet, the feel of grass was a stark contrast, and I blinked, staring at the green blades. What? No…this can’t be real.

I looked up and saw a tree nearby. I must be hallucinating.

Stumbling toward it, I pressed a palm to the bark. The texture was rough against my thin glove, but I didn’t care. It was real.

There was a splash, and I turned to find a vulture splashing around in a small oasis pond. How…?

I ran over, not stopping until I was knee deep. This couldn’t be real either, could it?

I plopped down in the water, lifting handfuls to my mouth and drinking so quickly that my stomach roiled, and I began heaving it back up along with my last meal.

I had barely finished coughing before I was drinking again, desperate to sate the burn in my throat. And when I finally felt as if I had had enough, I climbed out of the water and flopped onto the grass. Better. Not good…but better.

Turning, I froze at the sight of…a horse? I frowned, squinting. What the hell?

Sitting up, I wondered again if I was hallucinating, but no… It really was a horse, saddle and all.

I looked around. Maybe it belonged to the cloaked figure. But where did they go? There was no one else around, only me and the horse.

Perhaps they had never really existed. Right now, I didn’t have time to think about it.

I rose and made my way to the horse. It was drinking from the pond and seemed altogether unbothered, as if it was not lost in the same desert I was, as if it was perfectly fine just drinking from this nice, cool pond.

I couldn’t help but smile as I patted its neck. “I guess we’re in this together, huh?”

A rough laugh had me spinning on my heels. But the person behind me wasn’t the cloaked figure come to collect their horse, but a disgusting bandit with pocks on his skin. He smiled, revealing brown teeth.

“What do we have here? A new toy to play with?”

I flinched as another bandit appeared behind me, picking up a piece of my hair and sniffing it.

I jerked away, rearing back to slap the man when a third bandit appeared and grabbed my arm. This one was a woman.

“Stop playing with your food and tie her up,” she ordered.

Food?! “Let me go!” I tried to pull away, but I was still weak, and they quickly overpowered me, binding my arms behind my back and dragging me around a small hill.

At least a dozen more bandits waited among the trees, more horses milling around the temporary camp they’d set up.

I had only seconds to register all of this before I was thrown amongst the crowd to the sound of jeers.

I tasted dirt again, pushing up from the ground as two boots stepped into view and one of the bandits called, “Quit your struggling, girl. Won’t do you any good. You’re now the property of the Red Hand.”