Gale hobbled across the desert with a great weight upon his back. The added load made his feet sink into the shifting sands and left his brow slick with sweat.

His eyes constantly scanned the distant horizon, searching for any hint of the impending storm. At first, he hadn't wanted to believe Bo. It would have been so much easier if the boy was just lying or simply mistaken. But not long after they set off together – Gale started to feel it.

The ache.

Phantom pain gnawed at his stump, and it felt as though the hand that wasn't there anymore was getting repeatedly hammered with a blunt rock.

"How long until we catch up with the tribe?" Bo asked nervously.

Gale shifted the boy's weight and kept walking, "Hm, two days of non-stop walking ought to do it,"

Bo, who was slung over Gale's back, nodded grimly, "I'm sorry that I have no idea when the storm might hit. I wish I could be of more help to you,"

"It's fine," Gale croaked, "Shouldn't be more than four days if I'm reading it right,"

"How do you know?"

The old man unstrapped his silvery hook and showed Bo the stump, "This arm always aches whenever a storm is coming, and judging by how badly it hurts right now, we still have a few days left - but not more than four,"

"Right," Bo nodded, "Could you tell this sort of thing before you lost your arm or…"

"No,"

"Sorry, I was just curious,"

Gale shrugged, making Bo rise and fall with the motion, "It's okay – I've spent longer with this hook than the arm itself… honestly, I don't even remember what it felt like to have both of my arms,"

Upon hearing this, Bo perked up and began asking Gale a series of increasingly personal questions.

"Do you ever accidentally stab yourself with the hook?"

"Sometimes if I'm-"

"What about this weather thing? Does the stump react to other phenomena as well?"

"Well, actually, it's not the stump that hurts. It's as though my arm still exists, and the pain is coming fr-"

"Wait… It feels like the arm is still there?"

Gale rubbed his elbow absentmindedly, "Yes, sometimes I wake up, and this was all just a dream. On those mornings, it takes me a while to remember to put the hook on,"

Bo nodded furiously, eyes burning with intense interest, "So, who designed your hook?"

"I did," Gale said with a less-than-subtle smirk.

"Hm…" Bo scratched his chin thoughtfully, "How do you make all of your metallic stuff anyway?"

Gale sighed, "Ah, it's a long story, but…." He looked around at the vast desert. There was nothing but rolling dunes forever in every direction. "But I guess we have time,"

With an eager nod, Bo listened in as Gale began his explanation.

"It was around… thirty years ago - that I lost contact with the tribe for two months." Gale's gaze seemed to grow distant, as though peering back into the far past, "It was right after I lost my arm, and I wasn't thinking straight,"

He shifted Bo's weight slightly as they began to climb the side of a particularly steep slope, "Somehow, I managed to find myself alone and separated from the tribe by many miles. We had just passed through Fennigen's Gorge, and all I knew was that the tribe was moving roughly eastwards,"

"I spent the night alone on a small mountain, gazing up at the stars I couldn't understand. Somehow, when Ethron looks at those same stars - he sees a path for us, a way through drought and death." Gale sighed, "But all I saw were twinkling lights,"

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

"Don't we usually head to Blackmount Spire after Fennigen's Gorge?" Bo asked curiously. He had a distinct memory of that being the route they took, not that he ever paid much attention.

"Aye," Gale nodded, "But tell me this: If you were stood alone at the Gorge, could you really find your way to Blackmount?" He reached the top of a dune and began tightrope walking along its narrow edge.

"I don't know," Bo admitted, "It would be tricky,"

Gale nodded, "Especially if you had just lost your arm. What if you set off in the wrong direction and became completely lost? You might never find the tribe again,"

"I – I suppose so," Bo agreed. "So, what did you do?"

"Well, I decided to wait,"

"Wait?"

"Yes, I'd wait in the Gorge until the tribe came back around in a year… Or that was my plan anyway,"

Bo shook his head in disbelief, "I don't think I would have done anything differently, but still… how did you survive on your own for all that time?"

"Easy…" Gale grinned harshly, showing yellowed, rotten teeth, "I got lucky,"

He cleared his throat and continued, "Thirty years ago, the Bi-annual tribe meeting was planned to be held near Fennigen's Gorge. At the time, I wasn't aware of this, but about halfway through my first month in the Gorge, another tribe showed up,"

"Who was it? Not the Racten, right?" Bo asked, saying Racten with more than a little venom.

"No, I would rather have stayed in the Gorge than join the Racten," Gale spat, "luckily for me, it was the Yellow folk."

"Lucky," Bo hissed. There were just so many tribes in the desert – most of whom were a death sentence on sight.

"So, the Yellow folk agreed to bring me to the meeting point – as long as I promised to help their smith prepare tools to sell at the trade gathering." Gale glanced into the distance, noticing a small cloud of dust rising above one of the dunes. He squinted at it but couldn't make anything out through the heat haze.

"Of course, I agreed. Not only could I learn from a blacksmith, but I would be granted free passage and…." He paused.

"Can you see that?" Gale asked, pointing towards the rising dust cloud.

Bo frowned, squinting at it, "Yeah... it's not the storm, right?"

Gale glanced down at his arm, which still only gave off a dull throb, "No, it shouldn't be,"

As they watched, the dust rose higher, rising like smoke from a growing forest fire. "Keep an eye on it," Gale ordered as he tried to recollect his train of thought.

"The smith was as big as he was strict, and I remember the way he looked at my missing arm. He…" Gale stopped talking again, narrowing his eyes to little more than slits as he tried to peer through the glare.

"It's definitely coming closer," Bo added unhelpfully.

The distant cloud was huge and growing larger by the second.

"That's no storm," Gale grumbled.

Boom, Boom, Boom.

The noise first came as a low rumble that knocked tiny skitters of sand off the top of tall dunes. It was rhythmic and consistent – following a pattern of three booms close together, then a pause before another round of:

Boom, Boom, Boom.

"What is it?" Bo asked, wide-eyed. He had never seen anything like it before, and as the noises grew louder, his apprehension grew with them.

"It…" Gale trailed off, "It could be an Oasis."

"An Oasis? I've never heard of one causing something like this," As Bo pointed to the enormous dust cloud, his finger trembled slightly.

Gale paused ominously. He wiped his brow and squinted at the rising cloud, "You've never seen one running then,"

"Running…" Bo echoed, turning the word over in his mouth. "But what would an Oasis be running from?"

They both gazed past the dust cloud, where the sky no longer seemed so calm, "A storm… It might be running from a storm,"

Boom, Boom, Boom.

Sand poured from the tops of dunes into deep valleys, flowing like water. With every thunderous crash - more sand fell, and the dust cloud grew bigger.

Lost in awe of the situation, Bo and Gale could only watch as a truly titanic creature ploughed into view. It surged through the sand like a ship smashing through great waves, relentlessly knocking aside massive dunes and digging a deep tract in the desert floor.

Its six enormous legs pounded against the golden sand - beating a daunting, relentless drumbeat into the earth below.

"I've never seen one this close," Bo admitted, his eyes wide with wonder.

Gale grunted, "Then pay close attention. It might be ten years before you even see the shadow of another one,"

Boom, Boom, Boom.

With great sweeping strides, the mammoth creature barrelled towards them – closing in at a breath-taking speed. Its full figure quickly came into view, leaving Bo slack-jawed.

A moving mountain, a walking giant, it was impossible. The Oasis was beyond belief, towering tens of metres above the sand on six enormous legs thicker than pillars. Its shadow loomed over them, sending the world into momentary darkness as it roared past.

For a brief moment, Bo caught a glimpse under its belly – where innumerable dark shadows hung like stalactites, shifting and swaying as the Oasis ran.

His breath caught as he remembered his encounter with the Vesper the previous night. Luckily, they didn't come out during the day, or he would have been as good as dead.

Too stunned to speak, Bo just watched the goliath forge past and continue on into the distance. As it finally blurred into the horizon, and the pounding of its gigantic hooves faded away – he let out a breath he hadn't even realised he was holding.

"I-"

Gale let out an explosive chuckle that seemed to contain all his pent-up nerves. He patted his tortoiseshell tattoo proudly, showing it to Bo, "See, Oasis doesn't look so bad now, does it?"

"No…" Bo begrudgingly agreed. "But…"

"But what?"

"If an Oasis is that daunting, then just how majestic must a dragon be?" He asked with wonder.

The old man shrugged, shifting Bo's weight, "I wouldn't know - since there aren't any dragons left,"

Bo frowned, "They must be out there…" he muttered, "Just not in this desolate little patch of desert. But they do exist somewhere out there. I'm sure of it!"

"Sure, I'll believe it when I see it,"

Bo clenched his fists helplessly, "Don't worry," He almost growled, "You'll believe it. I'm sure of that."