In Huck's Hands

Chapter 10: Sweet Milk & Bitter Figs

Crimson-orange daylight spilled over Buriti's rusty sandstone bluffs, quickly chasing away the brief starlit respite of my forsaken trek. The lifeless chill clinging to my ragged clothes quickly yielded to the rising desert furnace. I had been already walking for 2 hours assuming it had just turned night....but my cave adventure--that I still don't believe to be tangible--had seemingly taken most of the precious hours of the night I needed to survive the day-long quest back to the capital.

I had hoped to use Twilight's blanket to conceal my expedition home after the mysterious caverns. But my feeble legs had only sufficed to wander in dazed circles around the lightless cave I had awoken in. Now I had no fucking cover from the blinding heat nor the roving bands of Predatory beasts.

With each treacherous baking minute, mirages shimmered higher over the yawning waste painting dreams of azure oasis pools I knew were only psychosomatic daydreams of my dehydrated mind - their beauty hiding seductive death for wayward nomads and critters alike. I dared not chase such fabrications far having so narrowly dodged the true oblivion underground....though the searing pain had left my hand underneath the skin it felt like a scarab violently had burrowed its way into my left palm.

With only a glinting obsidian knife shard and numbing pain to affirm that ordeal with fathomless amber eyes, trembling doubts resurfaced. Had I truly brushed divinity and lived? Or mere madness from blows to the skull, despite no wounds remaining....if the encounter with the watery goddess was mere speculation, had I ever even slayed the mighty ape beast?

The lifeless chalky Buriti vista offered no answers as dunes folded over endlessly for miles- only endless shifting white sand and red cracked clay between me and the shattered capital looming over reality itself in the distance.

The Buriti sun finally broke over the dunes, unleashing relentless waves of heat reaching 110 degrees as I stumbled onwards. Thirst and exposure clawed my parched throat with each toiled gate. Step after endless steps of barren sand surrounded me - no signs of life or shelter. My dreads dripped with sweat and hung low over my eyes. At least my Vascan thick hair and dark skin offered some protection from the exhaustive endeavor.

Delirium from the deadening atmosphere threatened to overwhelm my last gasps of discipline to continue north under my cupped hand and swaying hair. Just as green specks blotted my vision, a distant shambled wagon crested a large dune.

With my remaining strength, I attempted to rasp a plea toward the blotchy black spots encompassing my eyesight. ".....' nothing croaked from my sun-scorched throat as I collapsed heavily onto my knees. As my eyesight waned I was able to clearly see the occupants of the wagon from the vantage of my burning knees.

The caravan of some ambulatory traders silently halted at my deteriorated body, crumpled in the sand and staring with solar-drenched eyes. Through the haze, I made out the cautious angular face of the blonde Svet patriarch accompanied by his olive-skinned Doigan wife. Behind huddled two travel-weary companions I assumed were their children but were close to my age- a shy Buriti native and an inquisitive daughter bearing both her parents' alien characteristics. I reached a shakey hand out to them as my voice still eluded me.

The empathy in the basket-colored mother's gazes swayed compassion in me as she drew me into the shade of their wagon with her strange diverse family. Cold durik milk was poured onto my scorched forehead as the Dorigan mother articulated softly. "What are you doing playing in the sands boy?" It appeared that either she was the bravest outsider to roam the dunes....or possibly they hadn't recognized me as the last remaining Vascan--Certainly not their new monarch.

devoid of trees to produce paper and our rejection of the Svet's infernal 'radio' signals all news was passed word of mouth or by traveling bands, be it merchants or nomads; It was a way for them to make a quick coin and also deciminate information to the vast rustic population.