Aylin was no stranger to the heat, but even for the Marai Desert today was uncomfortable.

Her band had been on the move again after a few weeks at one of the underground settlements in the west, and they had been slowly making their way southeast towards the Galan River in search of fruits and grazing land for their hyba. After being lucky enough to avoid scouting duty for a few days, Aylin’s number had finally come up, and she’d been sent to survey the lands ahead of the band. It was not her favourite role, but one she did without complaint, and so there she was in the desert.

She sat atop her hyba, Zagri, as they crossed the desert at a steady trot. He was a lean but powerful hyba; not unlike Aylin herself, perhaps the reason for their bond being so strong. The reins in her hand were tied to his antlers, and she sat astride a padded sheet of cloth atop his tan back.

The relentless sun beat down on them from above, and while the hood of Aylin’s loose white cotton robes caught the worst of it, she still felt an uncomfortable warmth over the top of her head. The air was both hot as it brushed over her face, and cool as it flowed through and out of her robes. The yellowish-white dunes and flat stretches of sand seemed to go on forever ahead of them, but mercifully there was no wind to whip it into a storm.

As they rode up the crest of one of the dunes ahead, Zagri made a clicking noise, tossing his antlers. At the same time, Aylin’s green eyes were immediately drawn to the sight below them. There was a person collapsed in the sand; a man. A few flickers of Aylin’s eyes determined that nobody else could be seen in the great sandy expanse.

He was not, however, alone. There were a pack of four-legged figures circling the figure; light brown markings, pointed ears. Wild dogs. They were not yet attacking the downed man, but excited yapping and baying between them suggested that wouldn’t remain the case; a suspicion only bolstered by the circling of the animals around the downed man.

Aylin tapped Zagri on the top of his head, and the hyba knelt slowly to allow her to climb down onto the sand. She touched a hand to his neck, signalling him to stay, then she lowered herself onto the sands. In one hand she uncoiled her leather sling from her belt, while her other hand pulled loose a stone from a pouch. She crept closer, slipped the stone into the sling, then let it fly, whistling towards the pack.

The stone whizzed just past the ear of one of the dogs, striking the sand just next to it. The dog yelped in surprise and panic, and the pack turned to look at the source. Aylin wasted no time, springing into motion and running down the dune. Her free hand pulled loose the bronze short spear she’d slung over her shoulder, holding it out menacingly as she shrieked at the pack, bearing down on them.

It had the desired effect. One of the pack suddenly yelped in fear and turned tail, scattering from the fallen man. Two more scattered after them, leaving two to stand their ground next to the body. She continued her run, shrieking again as she bore down on them. One dog growled, its hackled raising, then Aylin struck the ground next to it with her short spear, and it yelped and broke, following its friends.

The other dog took one look at the fierce ranger as she brandished her short spear and snarled, then it slinked away before bounding after its brethren. Aylin sighed at that as she put her short spear away. The beasts may have been a danger, but they were doing what was natural to them, and she had not wished to kill them.

The figure was face-down in the sand, a mop of golden blonde hair covering the back of his head. He was dressed in a short kelly-green cotton tunic, leaving his sun-scorched forearms and legs bare. His shoulders seemed to rise and fall - he was alive at least. Aylin knelt next to the man, turning him over to move him face up. He seemed young, perhaps Aylin’s age, maybe a little older, with a blond tuft of hair on his chin. If his clothing hadn’t given away that he was an outsider, his light skin, burned red and blistered from the sun, certainly did.

Aylin pulled loose her waterskin, unstoppered it, and splashed water on the man’s face. His face scrunched up suddenly, then he began to stir, slowly coming to life. His blue eyes fluttered open, then a low groan escaped him as he began to look around.

“…uhgh, what, where...” he murmured. The words were in Sapphran, the language of the people from the north, not Aylin’s native tongue. His hands began to reach around underneath him to try to press himself up.

“You should stay still.” Aylin’s Sapphran was rusty, and heavily accented enough to make even her cringe. He didn’t seem to listen to her and continued to push up, a sudden grimace of pain crossing his face as he groaned.

“Oh Essena… I don’t feel so good…”

“This is why I told you to stay still. You are burned – badly. You aren’t ready to move y…”

The man suddenly retched violently, spilling the contents of his stomach out onto the sand, shuddering and shaking as he did. After a couple of minutes passed, he finally sat up, trembling and groaning quietly.

“Here,” Aylin lifted her waterskin and held it out to the man, “You need this more than I do.”

The man took in a huge gulp of water.

“Not so fast! You will be sick again, and that water has to last until you are taken to safety. Do not waste it.”

Her voice had come out sharper than she had intended, and the man winced and nodded at it. He groaned, shivering in spite of the heat.

“What’s happening to me? Am I poisoned?”

“No. You’re burned, badly. And you’re dehydrated. What were you doing out here on your own, without a hyba or a horse? Were you attacked and left here?”

“No, no, nothing so violent.” The man looked up to Aylin, “I was walking through the desert – it wasn’t supposed to be a long walk, but then it was, and then I kind of… well, didn’t feel so good.”

“You were walking? In those clothes? Are you insane? Do you know how close you came to death?”

“I…” the man’s face fell, and a sheepish look crossed his face as his shoulders slumped, “I didn’t think it was going to take me that long. I figured it would be a couple of hours’ walk to the mines at most.”

“Even two hours could have killed you dressed like that. What is wrong with…” She blinked, going back over his words in her head, “The mines?”

“Yeah, the essenite mines just outside of Lygon.”

“The mines are that way,” she stabbed a finger back towards where the man’s tracks had come from.

“You mean I…” Despite his sunburn, Aylin saw him seem to flush in embarrassment, “Oh. Oh. That was completely wrong, wasn’t it?”

“Suicidally wrong. How are you even allowed out of that settlement alone?”

He didn’t seem to have an answer for that, going back to shivering and wincing. She frowned, then reached into her pouch, rifling through its contents. She pulled loose a small glass bottle of aloe balm and tossed it to the man. He held his hands up to catch it, then dropped it into the sand before picking back up.

“What’s this?” He eyed the balm dubiously.

“Aloe. Put this on your face and on your arms. It will ease the pain. Well, enough of it that you’ll at least be able to function.”

The man nodded, scooping up some of the balm with his fingers and slathering it on his face. He was going to need that at the very least; in truth, even with it he was in for a bad few of days, but Aylin could at least get him back alive.

“That’s… well, not good, but definitely better.” He looked up at Aylin, his chapped lips managing to lift into a grateful smile, “Thank you. You saved my life.”

She shrugged, “Incompetence isn’t worthy of death.”

“Oof. That’s... er, honest I guess. But I appreciate it nonetheless. What is your name?”

“Is that really important?”

“Well, no, but…” The man spread his hands, “Where I come from it’s polite to learn the name of people you meet, and you did save my life, so being polite is the least I-“

“I am called Aylin.”

“Oh! Oh. Nice to meet you, Aylin. My name’s Makro, Makro Darec. I’m from Lygon. I’m a trader there.” He eyed her for a moment, looking over her loose clothing and dark olive complexion, “You’re a Dhar, aren’t you?’

“How observant,” she remarked, “Yes, I am one of the Dhar. I am a ranger to be precise.”

“You mean you spend all your time out here?”

“Not all, but most.”

“How do you not cook in the sun like I did?”

“Because I spent years training,” She motioned to her equipment, her clothing and her hyba, “And I know how to dress for the desert and how to survive in it. You Arikandans don’t seem to, although most of you seem to at least know that enough to stay out.”

“I’m not actually an Arikandan, you know. That’s north. Way north. Across the seas. I’m Solathine, or at least my family are. I was born here - well, in Lygon anyway.”

“The people who live in Solathi originally came from Arikanda, did they not?”

“Well, I…” He paused, then spread his hands, “You got me, I guess.”

The silence that followed was awkward. Aylin did not seem to have offended the young man, he still seemed earnest, but he also seemed to have an air of awkwardness about him, his eyes briefly meeting Aylin’s before looking away uncomfortable and drinking more water. Finally, he looked back up and spoke.

“So, uh… what happens now?”

"I will take you back to Lygon.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go out of your way to do that. I can make my way b-“

“No, you can’t,” she said bluntly, “You are burned, you are dehydrated and you haven’t even covered your head. You will die before you get out of my line of sight.” Aylin moved over towards Zagri, reaching into one of the bags she’d attached to the hyba’s saddle and pulled a sheet of pale cloth loose, throwing it to Makro, “Cover your head.”

Makro nodded and fumbled around with the cloth, trying to make all the edges fit together without overlapping. Aylin had to fight the urge to laugh in spite of herself, chewing on her lip as Makro managed to stuff and tie the cloth into a barely serviceable headscarf, placing it over his head and wincing as the material rubbed his burned forehead.

“How do I look?”

“Like a tourist- but at least an alive one.”

“Splendid.” He looked around, taking another draw from the waterskin, “Well, I think I’ll be OK to move. Won’t like it, but beats sitting here, right?’

“Wait a moment.” She pulled loose a bundle of twigs and sticks, then walked over towards a flat section of the sand. She laid the bundle down, then reached into one of the pouches on her belt to produce flint and pyrite, moving over towards the bundle. She struck the flint and pyrite together, sparking a flame between the twigs, which quickly spread and billowed up, starting to smoke.

“Seriously? A fire? Last thing I need is more heat…” Makro protested.

“I’d get back a ways if I were you then,” Aylin said. Makro raised an eyebrow, but did as he was advised. Aylin looked down at the fire, waiting it to flare up.

“What exactly are you doing?” Makro asked.

“Signalling my band. Telling them I’ll be diverting and I’ll be finding them later than expected.”

“You can tell them all that through smoke?”

Aylin nodded, reaching into her pouch and pulling out a handful of powder, throwing it into the fire. The smoke wafting upwards took on a yellowish tinge now, and Aylin left the smoke for several minutes to move over to Makro and Zagri, “Climb up. I don’t want to be waiting around when I’m finished here.”

“It’ll just let me climb on it?” Makro eyed the hyba suspiciously.

“Him."

"Huh?"

"The hyba is a male. His name is Zagri, but he is not an 'it'. To answer your question - if I’m here, yes.”

Makro nodded, warily lifting himself up and settling onto the back of the hyba. Zagri eyed Aylin questioningly, tilting his head, but kept steady as Aylin moved over to the fire again, throwing in another handful of powder. The smoke turned white, and Aylin let it billow for another few minutes before digging up sand and casting it over the fire, snuffing it out. Once it died out, she headed over towards Zagri, climbing up onto the hyba’s back in front of Makro in a fluid motion.

“I’d hang on if I were you,” she said, looking back over her shoulder as she took the hyba’s reins.

“Hang onto what?”

She gave him a steady, long-suffering look in reply.

“Oh.” Makro managed to flush beneath his sunburn, then placed his hands on Aylin’s waist. She let out a short whistle, and Zagri bounded forwards, kicking up clouds of dust behind them as he moved.

The ride towards Lygon was not a particularly eventful one; save for the odd groan and wince from Makro when Zagri jostled particularly hard on the ride. They passed the same scattering pack of dogs that had been milling around Makro, much to their dismay as they bolted from the bounding hyba. After about an hour, Aylin’s eyes drew over to smoke billing up from the southwest; her band, signalling the location they intended to pitch their camp for the approaching evening. Aylin committed it to memory and rode on.

After what seemed like a couple more hours, the sun was finally into its descent for the day and the sky was beginning to fade. Makro seemed to be past the worst of his sunburn and dehydration, and he seemed almost cheery now, asking her questions every so often which she addressed tersely, and making observations about their surroundings that she mumbled at. Then he moved on to anecdotes.

“…and anyway that’s why I was looking for the essenite. If I can make a necklace for Selpha, she’ll be so pleased, and maybe we’ll step out together, you know? Maybe.”

“Unbelievable,” Aylin rolled her eyes, “You almost got yourself killed to show off for a woman. Did you consider talking to her?”

“Well, I…” Makro laughed awkwardly behind her, “It’s just not done like that. It’s a Lygon thing, you know?”

“Sounds like a stupid thing…” Aylin muttered, then spurred Zagri ahead again, riding up a particularly steep dune.

As they crested the dune, Aylin saw the glimmering sight of the Galan greet her, the bluish-green river winding through the marshy, lush floodplain that surrounded it. Below them, the stretches of sand began to give way to patches of green and brown, then vast fields of rich, fertile soil stretching towards the river itself.

Further up the river, Aylin could see a square perimeter wall of what appeared to be wooden stakes. Within the wall were brown, beige and grey buildings of stone and mudbrick; some looking to be small houses, while others seemed to be large warehouses and workyards. A number of earthen roads seemed to carve out a grid through the town, leading south out the town gate and east towards a dock with several barges moored.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Makro said from behind her, his mood seeming to lift, “We’ve made it. That’s Lygon.”

Aylin squinted down at the town. It was on the west side of the Galan. Across the river, far to the east, were towering rocky cliffs and outcrops. The Marai continued past the outcrops, now a solid sun-scorched rock rather than the soft sands of the west. She could see several buildings, some with smoke rising from them, scattered around the bases of the cliffs.

“The mines are across the river…” Aylin muttered quietly.

“Hmm? Oh! Oh, so they are.”

“…how did you manage to get on the wrong side of the river to where you were trying to go?”

“I…” The voice trailed off, and Aylin could sense Makro’s shoulders slump as a helpless laugh escaped him, “…I don’t know any more.”

Aylin didn’t reply; couldn’t reply. All she could do was shake her head, urging Zagri forwards down the dunes and onto the grasses of the floodplain. Before long, they had reached the winding road between the grasses that led to the town.

They were not alone on the road; on the contrary, strings of men and women in the drab tunics of workers passed them as they went by. They were joined by merchants wearing tunics and chitons of brighter colours and finer linens, many leading and wagons full of fruits, grains and vegetables. She even saw a few of the peculiar armoured horse-drawn wagons that the northerners had brought with them when they came from downriver, manned by Arikandans in armour of leather and bronze scale.

Aylin had never been this close to the town before; the Dhar did not like the northern settlements at the best of times. Judging by the lingering gazes from the people along the road that they rode across, the sight of a Dhar was not something that many of the people in the town were used to either.

Soon they came to the perimeter of sharpened logs that made up Lygon’s wall. The gates were open, and people seemed to mill around the front of the gates as well as pass in and out of them, making way for the occasional cart laden down with workers and materials. Guards stood near the gates - two men wearing sleeveless leather jacks with bronze spears and wooden figure-eight shields.

Aylin reined Zagri in just ahead of the gateway, bringing him to a stop. She pulled her hood down with relief, shaking her dark tresses loose.

“We’re here,” she said over her shoulder, “Will you be able to find your way to safety here?’

“Oh! Oh, absolutely. I don’t live too far away, and people know me here.” She felt movement behind her, as Makro awkwardly lowered himself off the hyba and onto the gravel of the main road. He looked up at Aylin, a small grin crossing his face, “I’m feeling much better now, too. Thank you for giving me that aloe stuff and the hat.”

She shrugged at that.

“You needed treatment and protection."

“Still, it’s appreciated.” Makro paused, thought crossing his face for a moment before he looked back up, “Say, Aylin. Would you like to come to my home? I’m sure my parents would love to thank you for helping them.”

In spite of herself, Aylin managed a small smile back to him, shaking her head, “Thank you, but I don’t like cities.”

“This isn’t really what I’d call a city. It’s barely a settlement really, especially when compared to Solathi.”

“It is to me. I just wouldn’t be comfortable. But I appreciate your offer.”

“Oh. Uh. I understand. I think.” He frowned in thought, “I could probably go back to my house and get some hex for you. It’s Avadian, but all the traders use it so you could probably buy something with it.”

“I wouldn’t have any use for it,” Aylin shook her head again, “Again, I do appreciate the offer.”

“Still, is there anything else I can do to thank you?”

“Just don’t go into the desert again. You aren’t ready, and I don’t think you ever will be. Your people have no business there, and you’d just be a burden to rescue.”

He winced at that.

“Blunt enough.”

She coughed awkwardly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like-“

He grinned at her, setting her at ease, “It’s alright, Aylin. You’re not exactly wrong. Well, I guess goodbye then. May Essena and Delthur watch over you.”

“Thank you – I think.”

“Perhaps we’ll meet again?”

“I doubt it, but if we do, it wouldn’t be unwelcome.” She smiled back at him, taking Zagri’s reins in her hand, “Farewell, Makro Darec from Lygon.”

“It’s just Makro,” he grinned back at her, “And goodbye, Aylin. Good… uh, whatever it is you Dhar do.”

With a smirk and wink at that, she turned Zagri around in a half-circle and stirred him into a gallop, the hyba and rider bounding back up the road towards the crimson sky and the endless sands. With luck, she could make it back to her band's encampment before the true cold of the desert night began to bite in.

She'd have a story to tell them tonight.