Rise or Burn

Chapter Seven

Kol fell face first into the hot, arid desert sand. His legs were weak from the long hours of walking. His whole body ached; his skin was heated and raw and it blistered like leather in an oven. He hated this. The walking. The sun. The sand. He decided then that he hated deserts. He'd seen nothing but sand for hours, he'd almost gotten stung by a scorpion, he was sunburnt and dehydrated. There was nothing good about deserts.

"You're falling behind," Hae said as she helped him to his feet. He took a deep breath looking up at the sky, it was bluer than any blue sky had the right to be. He wished for clouds. Anything to provide shade. But the sky was clear, it's depths endless. He hated the sky too.

"Guys," Anna called. She stood on top of a sand dune looking back to them. There was a smile on her face. It was almost as bright as the Gomean sun. She waved them over.

Kol and Hae climbed up to her and immediately saw what had Anna so excited. Below them was a large winding river. It stretched further than their eyes could see. In it were long boats, with large fishing nets, angling for today's catch. Beyond that was Bel—a city of stone and plants.

"We made it," Hae said.

"Finally," Kol grumbled.

The gate in Teri'are, on the shores of Lake Ona had landed them in the Gomean desert. The largest desert on Omora. The Gomean desert was vast, stretching across the entire continent, from the kingdom of Timok in the southern lands to the kingdom of Retok in the northern lands. The next gate was in Retok.

Retok was one of the oldest Gomean kingdoms. Built after a great draught forced half the kingdom of Timok to migrate northward. They'd settled in an oasis encircled by the Bel River. To get to Retok, Anna, Kol and Hae would have to pass through Bel, the capital of Sogu, Retok's neighbouring kingdom and then board a boat to ferry them up the Bel River.

"Let's go," Anna said before leading the way down the dune and to the city of Bel.

Bel was a beautiful and ancient city. Its buildings grand stone features with overgrown plants—liana vines and ivy—covering them. The buildings' designs compromised of colourful inflated onion domes and shadowy great pointed domes, all with arabesque designs—gorgeous rhythmic linear patterns of scrolling and interlacing tendrils. There were Moorish arches, brilliantly rounded, pointed or lobed in their design. There were interlacing arches, arranged and cut that each arch seemed to intersect and be intersected by one or more other arches. And there were multifoil arches characterized by multiple circular or leaf shapes that cut into its interior profile. The grander buildings had central courtyards with succulent riad gardens. The plants grew unstrained, wild and lush.

Kol viewed the city in awe. The streets were lined with stands. Selling goods ranging from fresh produce to vibrant coloured spices, to silky fabrics to sizzling fried foods. Kol's stomach growled as they passed by a stand selling some form of deep fried pastry. Three women, all vieled in orange coloured head scarfs and yellow and red flowered chemise dresses were lined in front of the stall. The tallest one, she had dark skin and tattooed hands, ordered three of the fried buns. The man manning the stall, was in a red turban, a red plain loose fitting tunic and wide, baggy red trousers.

Most of the people, as Kol noted now, were in either red, yellow or orange. He wondered why this was but his growling stomach demanded attention.

"Can we get something to eat?" he asked. Their food supplies had dwindled to nothing. They were in desperate need of a restock.

"We don't have any money," Anna reminded him.

He'd never needed money on the isle. When he needed something all he needed was to simply ask for it. He'd never carried any with him. His stomach growled again and he made a quiet vow that when he returned home he'd change that. An emergency fund would surely be a wise idea.