Tales from the Wasteland | The Desert of Loss

Chapter 7

Six months. Six damn months of this exhausting training. What is all this bullshit for? Ugh, where the hell are you taking us Merric? Slade gripes to himself. He knows it wouldn't do any good to voice his opinions to his master. Hard knocks and swift discipline from the Shadow Palm leader have finally started to sink into Slade's hard head. Well, not completely. His defiant nature always seems to seep through at the wrong time. The young apprentice lets out an annoyed sigh as he trails significantly behind his master. His plodding through Ericson Bay then Turron Valley has been quite apparent to Merric. The trek through the northern territory from Orgrimdeare is an arduous endeavor to say the very least. Slade views his training as a pointless undertaking, even more so with the thought of some kind of mystical power his master has promised him.

The master pauses for a moment and clenches his bound arm as he looks back at Slade, who is meandering behind like a scolded puppy. "Time is so short, yet we constantly have more than we know what to do with." Slade is too preoccupied in his mind to hear his master's words. Merric begins to elaborate on his words but thinks better of it and continues on.

Hunger grips Slade as it gurgles and knots. Why did we leave so early, and without breakfast? I'm beginning to think his training is just 'bout starving me to death, Slade thinks as he picks the pace, but only by a bit. He's too upset with his master to stay close. Long days and sleepless nights are starting to take hold of the young apprentice. We've been at this for three days. All I can think about is food and it's all right on my back. Slade shifts the heavy pack on his back.

The terrain starts to incline with jagged rocks sprinkled throughout. Slade keeps his head down while dodging all of nature's obstacles in hopes of not tumbling back to his death. "Or worse. I'll have to start over," Slade gripes heaving himself up a moss-covered boulder.

The one saving grace of this whole trip is the air. It is completely clean, not like the smog and humid air of the city. He doesn't feel so enclosed out here and his lungs don't hurt. Slade takes a deep breath of the early morning dew and looks for his master. He spots him just over the next incline. Taking another big gulp of fresh oxygen and shifting the pack, the young apprentice follows his master's path.

Slade pushes on through the deep green hills, steadily climbing up for a while longer, heaving and griping to himself the entire time. Just when he becomes too tired to complain, the young apprentice searches for his master who is still ahead. Merric seems to glide over the terrain with unnatural agility and strength, which fuels Slade's agitation even more. "I could do that if it wasn't for this stupid pack, and oh, I don't know, maybe breakfast. It's gotta be lunchtime. I'm so hungry, I think I'm going to collapse. That's it, I'm done. It's all over. Nothing left in the tank. Gabriel... I'm sorry to put my trust in this man, I'll see you on the other side, brother."

"Quit your belly-aching, Slade," Merric's voice echoes from above. Slade looks up and moans silently at the height before reluctantly grabbing onto a protruding rock to start his climb.

"A soft boiled egg, maybe with some toast. A cup of... hot coffee," Slade strains. He eases to the next sure footing and pushes off. "There's a nice place in the Slums. Off of the corner of Knock Street. Briar Patch Café. Taft and I would always celebrate with a grand breakfast after a successful job."

The young apprentice heaves himself over the ledge, He pants as Merric comes over and pats him on the shoulder. "Here's a good place to rest, I think."

"Oh, thank God. I'm starving. I think I'm gonna... whoa." Slade stops as he looks out past the ledge into a valley of tall green grass smothered in a sea of dense fog. It is a solemn beauty his eyes have never witnessed. Truth be told, this entire trip was an explosion to his senses. Everything from the blistering hot afternoons to the cool nights under an ocean of stars were all firsts for the young boy. Though he has complained the entire time, secretly he is in love with what the world had to offer. Maybe one day, Gabriel and I can just travel the world together. Just the two of us, no rules. Just the courage in our hearts and the blades in our hands, he thought the first night under the starlight. The crackling embers were a soothing lullaby for the boy, and he had the best night's sleep in recent memory.