Kingdom Fall (Ethereal #1)

-Chapter 10-

The boy and the desert

Naajim

Naajim cursed the sun. Then he cursed the scorching sand, the rolling dunes and finally the cursed land his ancestors were stupid enough to decide to settle on.

Why the desert? Naajim asked himself. Why not some place with water and not so hot?

But he never got an answer. His tribe prided the fact that they could survive in the harsh conditions. It was a well known fact that no foreigner could live in the barren land as well as they did.

The afternoon sun blazed above him. Fine grains of sand slid between him toes and sandals, scorching his feet. Sweat trickled down the tattered clothes that he wore. The only comfort was from the "baaqui", whose shadow gave him some sort of comfort. Old women in shawls and old men along with the infants of the tribes silently rode on the large armored beast as it slowly strolled along the sand. Giant broad feet sunk slightly into the sand as it walked, grunting a few times when Shaa-zar poked it with his pole.

Naajim somehow felt sorry for the beast. It never asked to carry a load of annoying humans on his back. No matter how much effort it put towards transported them, no one treated it well. Naajim knew how that feels. He could easily sympathize with the baaqui. Maybe a bit too well.

Then from ahead, someone yelled, 'HALT!'

Shaa-zar, too lifted his head and yelled, 'HALT!'

From behind them, someone else yelled, 'HALT!'

The command was passed down along the long line of nomads. Behind them, the livestock whined and snorted. The sound was eerie, like the sound coming out from a spoilt infant.

'Help everyone down, brat!' Shaa-zar snapped at Naajim. Naajim frowned as he patted he belly of the baaqui.

'Hang in there, buddy. They will get off soon.'

The baaqui didn't respond but shifted his hand left leg. Then after a bit of swaying, it sat down on its four feet. Naajim skillfully scaled up its armor, reaching the makeshift palanquin tied up the beast with thick rope. He pulled out the rope ladder from the roof, untangling it before tying it in front of the entrance of the hooded basketlike structure. The still fit old men climbed down quickly. Naajim had to help some of the women, who carried children of their son's and daughter's.

From the little packed crowd of people, a little boy ran towards Naajim's arms crying, 'Big Brother!'

Naajim almost fell off the baaqui if he hadn't held on to the rope tightly. He climbed down, helping his frail mother on the way. Him mother lifted the little boy up, signaling her son to help the others. The little boy stared at Naajim with admiration while he scaled the beast again to help unload the baggage.

No one thanked him, no one even smiled. The passengers simply glared at the boy as he worked, as if it was a duty he must do. Once he was done unloading, he had to help him mother set up their tent at the corner of camp. It took a while for Naajim to realize why they had to stop. It was still mid noon. But then he noticed the all of dust that covered the horizon.

It was a sand storm. Everyone around them hurried to build shelter. Bindaq, Naajim's younger brother watched with fearful hazel eyes are the impending storm in front of them.

'Brother, what is that?'

'Get inside,' said Naajim to him, 'Quick!'

Bindaq slipped inside the tent. His mother followed. Meanwhile, Naajim secured the tent from around him before slipping inside and taking out a blanket from their bundle of baggage.