𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃

chapter one - banishment

The only sensation Lucas Cox could feel was, well, sand. That was the best way to put it. The hot, dry wind blew the coarse particles around, and some ended up sticking to the beads of sweat covering the young man's body. Some grains managed to sneak into his mouth that was pathetically left agape, adding to the rough and unpleasant texture of his dried throat.

This was really it - the end. Every now and then, Lucas would wonder what it would look like. Perhaps he'd be fast asleep, completely unaware of the desperate cries of his neighbours trying to alert him to the flames engulfing his home. Or maybe he'd die with honour while trying to save a fellow soldier on the battlefield. Or maybe he'd die in a way that could arguably be the best death: Surrounded by the friends and family he made for himself over the years. He never once thought it would be probable that he would die in the middle of nowhere, banished from his beloved kingdom where food and water was abundant.

After three days and nights of trudging through a never-ending valley of sand, Lucas' body was about to fail from dehydration, and he was determined to do just about anything to drink some water. Even if he had managed to find water, he seriously doubted that the desert would be able to provide him with something edible within three weeks.

Lucas shut his eyes even tighter, blocking out the little bit of torturous sunlight that could get through his eyelids and lamely rolled his head over in the sand. Hopefully his scraggly body would would serve as a decent meal for the next vulture that would drop by.

"Poor kid," he heard someone mutter above him.

Lucas could only mumble in reply, believing his delirious mind was playing tricks on him. But then out of nowhere, a splash of freezing cold water fell onto his face. He jolted up in shock and looked up.

A person shielded from the sun by a juniper-coloured cloak stood before him, holding out a canteen of water. Lucas scrambled to his feet and noticed that this person stood a few inches shorter than him, which was saying something, considering that Lucas wasn't even at an average height for a man. From the shadow of this person's hood, Lucas could barely make out the shape of glasses rested on a warm, ivory nose and golden bronze hair that barely tickled the person's chin.

"Good, you have enough strength to stand," she said. "Looks like I don't have to drag you everywhere like I did with the last guy."

Lucas stared at his saviour with a dumbfounded look. He cleared his throat and hoarsely said, "Uh, who... are you?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry about that. You can call me Vaessen. Or the Crusher of Dreams. Or anything, really, as long as it isn't 'ma'am.'"

"Yes, ma'am!" Lucas cried while bowing sharply. "I mean..."

"Every single time...," Vaessen muttered to herself. "Eh, you'll get used to it. We need to start moving. And it'll help if you actually drink that water."

Lucas looked down at the canteen in his hands. He hastily unscrewed the lid and greedily gulped down the water. It wasn't long before he finished every last drop and wiped his mouth with his sweat-drenched sleeve.

"Thanks. Thank you so much, ma- I mean, Vaessen. I... Where are we going?" the young man asked.

"To find more people like you, of course," Vaessen said whole holding up a compass.

Interestingly enough, the compass didn't have any markings to indicate north, south, east, or west. Instead, there was simply a lone arrow rapidly vibrating and pointing in Lucas' direction. He squinted his monolid eyes and noticed that the arrow had an interesting texture. Eventually, he figured that the arrow was made up of scales - Jorvikian scales - and some of the scales were an insanely vibrant shade of red, and some were glowing a very faint blue.