Blooming in the Desert

Recollections of the Past

It is night in Nayim.

Despite the chilly winds blowing from the desert, the worst of it is stopped by the town walls, so the town is relatively warm even during the night. Although the crystal lanterns has become quite common nowadays, not many people use them throughout the night, possibly out of habit of using oil lamps that could go out or causes a fire. That is why only the sleepless district of Nayim – the night market – is still filled with light in this hour. The rest of the town, including the residential areas, are sleeping in a gentle darkness, beneath a starry sky.

Coming up from the ladder connecting to his bedroom, Omiro Jaller opens a trapdoor on the ceiling of his bedroom and climbs up to his house's roof, or as he calls it, his 'open-air second floor'. Ain is sleeping soundly in the main room below, once again exhausted after accompanying his employer going around the town, buying supplies and preparing his next business venture. After their misadventure in the Raiders' cave, Jaller fails to recover his 'trinkets', but Ain had secretly pocketed a ring during their last visit to the Raiders' treasure room. It doesn't worth as much as the emerald necklace and bracelets they've lost, but enough to buy a desert cart for future investments.

Standing up in the middle of his open second floor, Jaller closes his eyes to feel the chilly breeze blowing on his body. His red mane, unbound by his usual turban, flutters in the air as he takes a deep breath and exhales it. Feeling fully relaxed, Jaller opens his eyes and starts to crouch, then sits cross-legged facing the desert to the northeast.

He spent about a few moments seemingly reminiscing before opening a wooden chest he brings up with him. Inside the chest is an ornate glass bottle, colored emerald green, filled with a beverage from the Far East called sake sitting on a purple cushion. Jaller takes out the bottle and a small, flat cup used to drink the beverage, then pours himself a cup.

As he picks the cup in his hand, the smell of alcohol enters his nose, and Jaller sees the starry sky reflected by the clear liquid in the sand-colored ceramic cup. Looking up into the stars, he can still remember that day, eight years ago, clearly as it was yesterday.

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In those days, Omiro Jaller was simply a street rat – an orphan from the slums, without money or means to survive. He spent his days plotting simple heists together with his fellow street rats, whether it is simply stealing food for the day or distracting a merchant to steal his purse. For him back then, such life was quite fulfilling.

But time moves on. Some of his fellows were captured by the town guards. Some succumbed to illness and malnutrition, others fell into the dark underbelly of the town and gets involved with more dangerous, yet more rewarding, 'businesses'. At the day before his thirteenth birthday, Jaller found himself working alone, stalking a wandering merchant from the Far East to steal his purse.

As the merchant went to a fruit stall, Jaller came and stood beside him. Acting as though he was a hungry kid looking at the fruits, Jaller started to make a small commotion, yelling out loud things like, "Oh, it seems delicious!" "Is it ripe yet mister?" "I want to eat that one!" The fruit seller, rather annoyed by Jaller's loud proclamations, tried to shoo him off. Jaller, however, continued to shout until the moment when the wandering merchant pulled out his purse to buy an apple.

Seizing the chance, Jaller quickly snatched the purse from the merchant's right hand, and ran as quickly as he can away from the fruit stall. He looked back to see that the merchant was still standing, not moving to chase him, while the fruit seller was loudly shouting at him. Suddenly, however, Jaller crashed into something on the road, and fell on his back.

Jaller was still recovering from the pain when he felt something lifts him by his collar. He found himself facing a gorilla of a man – big, scary, furious, wearing only an open vest as his top and having palms as big as his head. Jaller saw his thin beard curls on his chin as the man pulls him by the collar using his bracelet-wearing left hand, and then he started yelling profanities right in front of Jaller's face, at full volume.