The sand shifted beneath their feet as Solasra and Jahan made their way through the familiar path leading out of the camp. The air was cool in the early morning, but the sun was already climbing, and Solasra could feel the heat creeping in.
"Are you ever going to take Father seriously?" Solasra asked, glancing sideways at Jahan as they walked.
Jahan smirked, his eyes scanning the horizon. "I do. Just not when it comes to storms. I've seen too many false alarms to believe every warning."
Solasra sighed, adjusting her pack. "You're too relaxed."
"And you're too tense." Jahan nudged her lightly with his elbow. "There's more to life than worry, you know."
They reached the outer edge of the valley, where the dunes began to rise higher, the sand shifting more beneath their feet. The wind was still light, but Solasra could sense something in the air—a subtle change that made her uneasy.
"See anything yet?" Jahan asked, his tone light but with a hint of curiosity.
Solasra scanned the landscape, her sharp eyes picking out every detail. The dunes stretched endlessly before them, but something about the stillness felt wrong.
"Nothing yet," she said, her voice quieter than before.
Jahan glanced at her, noticing the shift in her tone. "You alright?"
Solasra hesitated. "It's nothing. Just... something feels different today."
Jahan was silent for a moment, his usual teasing expression softening. "You know, if there's one thing Father is right about, it's that you're the best at sensing things before they happen."
Solasra looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.
"I mean it," Jahan continued, his grin returning. "So if you feel something, maybe we should get this done quickly and head back."
Solasra nodded, her unease growing as they continued walking. She couldn't shake the feeling that the desert was watching them, waiting for something to unfold.
They walked in silence for a while, the only sound being the soft crunch of sand beneath their feet and the occasional gust of wind swirling around them. The dunes rose higher as they ventured further from the camp, casting long shadows across the desert floor. Despite Jahan's lighthearted tone, the unease that gnawed at Solasra's mind was growing.
She couldn't explain it—there was no visible danger, no looming storm clouds or sudden shifts in the wind. But the desert felt different today, more silent than usual, as if it were waiting for something to happen.
Jahan seemed unbothered by her silence, content to walk ahead, occasionally glancing back with a grin. He was always the one to break the tension with a joke or a teasing remark, and for that, Solasra was grateful. But today, his words did little to ease her mind.
After another half hour of walking, they reached the outskirts of a rocky outcrop where small clusters of dry bushes grew, the only signs of life in the otherwise barren landscape. The oasis wasn't far beyond this point, where they could refill their water skins.
Solasra knelt to inspect the bushes, her fingers brushing over the dried leaves. They crumbled at her touch, brittle from the heat. She glanced around, scanning the area for any signs of movement.
"Still tense?" Jahan asked, crouching beside her, his tone casual but laced with concern.
Solasra didn't answer immediately, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the horizon. The dunes seemed too still, and the silence too deep. "I don't know," she said finally. "It just feels wrong. Like something is... off."
Jahan leaned back on his heels, looking at her thoughtfully. "You've got that look on your face again. The same one from when we fled Marakah."
Solasra's gaze snapped to his, her jaw tightening. "This isn't like that," she said, more sharply than she intended. The memory of that night—the smoke, the screams, the panic—still haunted her.
Jahan's expression softened, his usual teasing tone gone. "I didn't mean to—"
"I know," Solasra interrupted, standing quickly and turning away. "Let's just get the water and head back."
Jahan stood too, grabbing their empty skins and slinging them over his shoulder. "You sure you don't want to talk about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about," Solasra replied, her voice tight as she started walking again. "We just need to get this done."
The wind picked up slightly, stirring the sand around their feet as they moved closer to the oasis. The sky, which had been a soft blue only minutes ago, was beginning to shift, darkening at the edges with a faint haze. Solasra stopped, her eyes narrowing as she watched the horizon.
Jahan noticed her hesitation and followed her gaze. "What is it now?" he asked, his tone edging toward impatience.
Solasra shook her head, her throat tightening. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I think we should hurry."
Without another word, they quickened their pace, the weight of the shifting wind pressing down on them. The oasis wasn't far, just beyond the next ridge, but Solasra's heart pounded in her chest, the familiar sense of dread creeping back.
As they crested the final dune, the oasis came into view—small, isolated, but still holding the promise of water. The trees surrounding it were sparse, their leaves swaying gently in the wind, and the pool of water shimmered in the distance, an inviting contrast to the endless sea of sand.
But something was wrong.
The wind that had been swirling around them suddenly dropped, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake. The hairs on the back of Solasra's neck stood on end as she scanned the area, her senses on high alert.
"Jahan," she whispered, her voice tight. "Something's not right."
Jahan stopped beside her, frowning as he looked around. "What are you talking about? It's just the oasis."
But Solasra wasn't listening. Her eyes locked onto the shadows near the trees, where the sunlight didn't quite reach. There, hidden among the foliage, something moved. It was quick, too quick to make out, but she saw it.
"Get down!" she hissed, grabbing Jahan's arm and pulling him behind the nearest dune. They crouched low, their breathing shallow as they listened.
The stillness was suffocating, the silence broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the distant sound of the wind. Jahan's eyes were wide, his usual confidence replaced by uncertainty.
"What did you see?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Solasra swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. "I don't know. But we're not alone."
The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, the weight of the unknown pressing down on them. Solasra's muscles tensed, her hand instinctively reaching for the small knife she kept hidden in her tunic. Jahan's face was tight with concentration, his playful demeanor replaced by a seriousness she rarely saw in him.
"What do we do?" Jahan asked, his voice barely more than a breath.
Solasra's mind raced, trying to make sense of what she had seen—or what she thought she had seen. There was no time for doubt, no time for hesitation. They had to get back to camp, and fast.
"We leave. Now," she whispered, glancing back toward the oasis. "Stay low and move fast. We don't know how many there are."
Jahan nodded, his jaw set in determination. "On three?"
Solasra swallowed hard, her grip tightening on the knife. "One... two..."
Before she could say "three," the sound of footsteps broke the silence. Slow, deliberate, and getting closer.
YOU ARE READING
Sands of Fate
Fantasía-BOOK SERIES 1- Born into a lowborn family in the sun-scorched desert lands of Marakah, Solasra is forced to flee her homeland after it is destroyed by the brutal Juroshan tribe. Seeking refuge, her family crosses the perilous Saronan Wastes and rea...