The Red Day

II.

The following days and weeks drifted by. The residents of Tenb'ir were slowly starting to piece the remnants of their lives together again, but the weight of loss permeated through every interaction. Ren hadn't left the healers' house, nor had she even entertained the thought of passing by her old place. Friedla early on had gathered some of Ren's clothes, and aside from that, there wasn't much there anyway in the way of belongings.

Kallen and Ren had lived simply, spending most of their days together exploring the dunes. Due to the dust storms, many items would get swept away from Tenb'ir and also toward their village from distant places. Scavengers had a negative connotation to the word, but that's what they were. Re-collecting the lost items of their neighbors and selling any new items found in order to put food on the table. Not like any of the residents would let anyone go hungry. Due to the village's small size, everyone helped everyone. It was one of the main reasons Kallen had moved to Tenb'ir all those years ago. He hadn't spoken of his past life before Tenb'ir much. Only dropping small nuggets of memories here and there. Ren never pried. She told herself that she would wait until he was ready, but deep down, she was frightened that if she asked too many questions, he would push her away and leave. But that no longer mattered anymore.

It was another especially hot day. The dry air felt too much like that Day that Ren found herself constantly glancing at the horizon. But there was nothing there. Except wait. Ren blinked, trying to confirm if the now two black dots were real or not. She had completely stopped what she was doing -- binding herbs for Friedla -- to stare at the two figures slowly heading this way. Beads of sweat dripped down from her forehead to her neck. She watched as the figures slowly started to take the form of two persons, but there was no fleet of caravans towing behind. Whoever these strangers were, they were alone.

Ren grabbed her staff--a long, simple wooden pole that was both used to help traverse the sands and as a weapon, if needed--and ventured out to the edge of town. As the figures drew nearer, she could see that they were both tall. One being massively so and quite burly, while the other was about Kallen's height and lean build. Could it really be him? Could he have escaped somehow? Thoughts danced around Ren's head. Joy and hope started to fill her heart too quickly, but also unbridled anger. If he had come back, surely the Princess would, too. Tenb'ir would not survive another massacre. So, Ren stayed where she was, crouching down in the shadows behind one of the buildings, eagerly and dreading the figures' arrival.

The desert had a way of distorting distance, and much time had passed until the strangers gained appearance. No Kallen. Her heart broke again, and she cursed herself for putting too much faith in this small, impossible miracle.

The massive one had a dark complexion and bald head. He was draped in a long duster that Ren didn't even know they made in his size. The hilt of a greatsword could be seen over his shoulder, with the hilt's strap crossing his broad chest. He appeared older, probably mid-ages. The leaner man was cloaked in dark brown, with a hood covering his features. The faintest sight of a satchel could be seen hanging from his side. Ren could not tell if he was also carrying any weapons. She stayed hidden, watching to see what these two men might do.

They were within earshot now, and almost seemed... jovial.

"Ah, we've finally arrived," the leaner one said. He removed his hood, breathing in the air and took in the small village like it was a palace of Kings. He was young, possibly around Ren's age. Rough, tanned skin - probably from their journey here. His short hair in a disarray of curls and waves, browns and hints of red.

The massive one rubbed his head as he replied, "I still don't know why you dragged me all the way out to the middle of the desert. There doesn't even look like anyone is here."