What was Lost

Ura and his thirteen theives

The man chuckled at my shocked face, and motioned with his hand for the people to lower their weapons. It was early morning, the sun barely peeking out from behind the horizon, but I could see clearly.

I was wrong.

There wasn't fifteen, but thirteen people. Fourteen if you counted the cloaked man, who seemed to be their leader.

They also weren't armed to the teeth, but to the bone. They carried bows and arrows on their backs, daggers of various sizes were attached at easily-accessible places on their bodies.

They wore long light brownish cloaks, which made them blend into the desert. The material was rough, and well-worn.

All the men, there was no woman in sight, wore black bandana's around their necks. Some had them hanging loosely, while other had them covering their faces to just below their eyes, which were all looking at my body, and my sword, in lust.

The man in the black cloak began to speak. His face, too was well covered, but his voice was unexpectedly pleasant. However, the thing that shocked me the most, was that when he spoke, I understood him.

It should have been impossible, this was a foreign land, and he was speaking in a foreign tongue I doubted had been spoken in many thousands of years.

But for some reason I could not explain, the alien cadence of his words washed over me, and soothed me, and I understood.

"I am Ura, and these," he said with a flourish of his arms "are my thieves. Who, are you, girl? And what has you in the middle of the desert. Do you not know that many a man has died here? The desert is a cruel Mistress, and she leaves none alive, or at the least, sane," his voice was gruff, like someone who had barked orders for many years, but the sound was oddly pleasing to the ears.

Clearing my throat, I began a reply, greatly doubting that they would understand my 21st century English.

To my surprise, when the words came out, they were not in English, even though I thought them in it. Instead, to my amazement, and his obvious surprise, I spoke in the same tongue as his.

My voice was not as gruff as his, but the words rolled off my tongue, as if they were a part of me.

"I am Ariana. I do not know where I am. I awoke yesterday, and found myself in the desert. I began walking, and found myself here".

He looked at me, as if he were seeing me for the first time, his eyes raking down my body, appreciatively, and noted my scars that were visible on my neck and sleeveless arms.

"Where are you from? And what manner of clothes are you wearing? I have never seen such fine clothing".

I noticed that he had not commented or asked about the scars. He probably had a few of his own. Only those who didn't would ever dare comment on them. Those people did not realise that some nightmares were not meant to be revisited.

"I am from a place that is far away from here. There, these clothes are normal"

The look's of disbelief told me that they didn't believe me. Honestly, if I were them, I wouldn't believe me either.

I quickly grew tired of holding Baxter out in front of me, so I moved to put him back in his sheath.

At my movement, the men began to move towards me, weapons ready, but I halted them with my hand "relax. I am just returning Baxter to his sheath".

They stopped and I quickly put him away.

"Baxter?" The man-Ura asked, clearly curious.

I blushed.