The morning sun crept gently over the horizon, casting its warm rays upon the village of Kephri's Rest. The bustle of the village had yet to begin in earnest, with only a few industrious souls already starting their day's tasks. Zeni, her satchel slung over her shoulder, stood in front of Hesira's apothecary shop, the subtle scents of herbs and potions wafting through the air.

It was a day different from all the rest, and Zeni could hardly handle the excitement. After weeks—months, really—of hard work, she’d earned another badge in her mental trophy case.

Today was the day she had been entrusted.

With an important task, no less—to deliver a collection of remedies and tinctures to the semi-neighboring settlement of Tethrys. This offered a new chapter, one with which she could reasonably, she knew, grow more connected to the people she’d been spending so much time with. Most importantly: the journey would be a full day's travel. Which meant it would be the most time she’d spent away from Kephri’s Rest since arriving. The prospect was thrilling and a little terrifying, if she was being honest. However, fortunately, she wouldn't be going alone.

For one, Basim would accompany her, his youthful exuberance often a source of both amusement and mild irritation. Another villager, Yasmine, whom Zeni didn’t know as well as the other, would also join them. All Zeni really knew about her was that Yasmine was a skilled archer—she’d heard about some of her impressive exploits, often going off into the desert for days at a time on solo ranges and always returning with fresh game for the village.

Zeni, while having spent plenty of time with Basim—the two had become fast friends—had never been up close to the hunter much, and noticed that Yasmine was quite pretty. Though she wasn’t very old—likely around Zeni’s own age—she was a little bit aloof, with a quiet, watchful demeanor. Her role was clearly ensuring their safety in case they encountered any monsters along the way.

But Zeni was excited about the prospect. She got along well with Basim. He was dutiful, if not occasionally a bit much. But Zeni enjoyed his company anyway, because, while he was a tad on the excitable side, he was also very funny and Zeni was nothing if not a sucker for a good chuckle.

With a final check of their supplies, the trio set off, leaving the familiarity of Kephri's Rest behind as they ventured onto the well-worn path that led to Tethrys. The sun had fully emerged now, bathing the land in a golden glow that seemed to set the world alight with promise.

As they walked, the conversation flowed as easily as the gentle breeze that rustled the sands around them. Basim, ever the chatterbox, regaled them with tales of his latest exploits—whether that was apprenticing for Aken, gambling with some of the older villagers, or a cool rock he found. Currently, his topic was on weaponsmithing—something he’d only recently been allowed to start working on—his voice animated as he described, in great detail, the art of forging a particularly ornate dagger.

"You see," Basim said, waving his hands around for emphasis, "the trick to forging the perfect dagger is in the subtlety. You want it to be sharp, of course, but also elegant, like a swan gliding across a pond."

Zeni raised an eyebrow.

"A swan? You mean the birds that get angry and chase you if you get too close?"

Basim grinned, unfazed.

"Exactly! Beautiful but dangerous, like a finely crafted weapon."

Yasmine rolled her eyes.

"And you're an expert in weapon crafting now, Basim?"

"Well, not quite," Basim admitted, scratching his head sheepishly. "I did manage to create something that resembled a dagger, but Aken said it looked more like a ‘bent spoon with aspirations.’"

The trio shared a chuckle at Basim's expense, as he continued, "He said if I keep practicing, though, one day I might actually forge something that could be used as a weapon... or at least a very threatening letter opener."

As he continued, on to his next effervescent topic, Zeni grinned at his enthusiasm. Though she did occasionally roll her eyes in mock exasperation.

Yasmine, on the other hand, was more reserved, her words carefully chosen and deliberate. She spoke mostly of… her love for archery and hunting, such as the thrill of hitting a target with precision, and the satisfaction of honing a skill that had become second nature to her. Zeni enjoyed it. Her calm and measured personality provided a welcome counterbalance to Basim's…boundless energy.

As the hours passed, the sun rose higher in the sky, its rays casting shadows across the desert path. The trio paused for a moment beneath the shade of a large tree, its branches heavy with ripe, juicy fruit. Basim, unable to resist the temptation, quickly scrambled up the trunk and plucked a handful of the succulent treats, tossing them down to Zeni and Yasmine with a mischievous grin.

The three travelers savored the sweet, refreshing fruit, its juices quenching their thirst as they rested their weary feet. For Zeni, this was everything. Contentment. Nothing like the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with friends in the great outdoors to bring a song to her heart.

However, getting even more hungry, they searched and found a shaded spot beneath a large Sefrani Thornwood, thinking it the perfect place to rest and enjoy their lunch. They sat on a soft bed of sparse grass and fallen needles, their travel-worn bodies grateful for the brief respite. As they unpacked their provisions, Basim launched into a diatribe about something that had Zeni's ears perking up in curiosity.

"You know, there's a big festival coming up in a few weeks,” he explained, taking a hearty bite of bread that he brought.

Zeni blinked in surprise, her half-eaten apple momentarily forgotten.

Was that what Hesira had been helping prepare for?

"A festival? No one mentioned anything about a festival to me."

Yasmine nodded in confirmation.

"Yes. The Festival of Ankhara. It's quite the to-do. Every year, we gather together to revel in a series of celebrations. There's a bit of everything, really – feasting, dancing, games, and, of course, good old-fashioned mischief."

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Basim grinned, a playful gleam in his eyes.

"It's an absolute event. Everyone gets really into it, and there's always a healthy dose of friendly rivalry between the participants in the games. And the best part? The winners get shiny trophy-stones and bragging rights for a whole year."

Zeni frowned, her thoughts racing.

"But I've only been here for a short time. How am I supposed to compete in games against people who have lived here, for, like, their whole lives?"

Yasmine nodded.

"Oh, that’s not a worry. The festival is designed to be fun for everyone. There are always a few surprises thrown in to keep things interesting, and each year's celebration is different from the last."

Basim chimed in, his voice encouraging.

"Besides, didn’t you tell me you've been learning a lot since you arrived? I bet you'd do just fine in some of the games. And even if you don't win, the important thing is to have fun and get to know your neighbors better."

Yasmine snorted.

"You sound like my grandmother. ‘It's a time for us to come together as a community and celebrate our strengths and our shared experiences.’” she said, adopting the voice of Keela, one of Kephri’s Rest’s elders. “But, I suppose there is truth to that. There's no pressure to be the best, just a chance to let loose for a little while."

Zeni considered their words, her initial apprehension slowly giving way to excitement. As she finished her lunch and began to repack her things, she found that she might just be looking forward to the upcoming festival.

I hope there’s a bunch of food, she thought.

Their reprieve, however, was short-lived, as the journey still stretched out before them. Resuming their trek, the path soon transformed from daunting desert to, what Zeni considered, a more moderate style of geography. She found it led them through a dense thicket, the foliage overhead so thick that the sunlight struggled to penetrate the canopy. The air was cooler here, the scent of damp earth mingling with the fragrance of wildflowers that grew in abundance along the forest floor.

As they navigated the winding trail, Zeni noticed the vibrant array of flora that surrounded them.

How could this possibly exist in a desert? She wondered to herself. An oasis is one thing, but this…this is something else entirely.

She marveled at the delicate petals of a flower that seemed to shimmer in the dappled light, its colors shifting and changing as if by magic. She paused to admire the intricate pattern of a spider's web, the silken strands glistening with dew, the true beauty of nature's handiwork.

"I've never seen so many flowers in one place," she mused aloud, pausing to admire a particularly vibrant patch of crimson and gold blossoms.

Basim chuckled, a glint in his eye as he leaned in conspiratorially.

"Well, Zeni, that's because you've never been to the annual Basir-Ankura Flower Festival.”

“Neither have you,” Yasmine said to him.

“I beg your pardon?” Basim said, sounding offended. “I absolutely have—I go every year, in fact.”

“What’s Basir-Ankura?” Zeni asked.

“A town nearly a week’s journey from Kephri’s Rest,” Yasmine said. “Through the desert. A feat I find hard to believe someone like this blacksmith’s apprentice could easily achieve.”

“Oh, it’s never easy,” Basim said. “But I go with the caravans. Ride back with ‘em, too. It’s a great time. They love me, the caravans.”

“So, this place—that you’ve definitely super been to has an amazing flower festival?” Zeni wondered. “Sounds nice.”

“It's a sight to behold, I tell you,” Basim said. “They even crown the Flower King and Queen each year!"

Yasmine snorted, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Oh, really? And pray tell, who was crowned Flower King last year?"

Basim puffed out his chest, grinning broadly.

“You’re lookin’ at him.”

Zeni raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as she fought back a smile.

"You? The Flower King?"

Basim nodded sagely, the very picture of mock solemnity.

"Indeed. It's a prestigious honor, you know. There was a fierce competition, but in the end, my knowledge of floral arrangements and my impeccable taste in petal accessories won the day."

Yasmine rolled her eyes, her laughter bubbling up despite her best efforts to remain stoic.

"And what, exactly, did this 'prestigious honor' entail?"

"I am glad. You. Asked," Basim replied, his grin widening as he punctuated each syllable with a finger. "As Flower King, I was responsible for presiding over the festival's many events, as well as ensuring that every blossom in the town received its due admiration."

Zeni joined in the laughter, the image of the tall, muscular Basim adorned in a flower crown and sash too much to bear.

"And how did you manage to fulfill such weighty duties, oh mighty Flower King?" She asked.

Basim winked, his eyes dancing.

"With great care and dedication, of course. After all, one can't be too hasty when it comes to matters of floral diplomacy.”

They moved on, with Basim regaling them with different aspects of his plans for his future flower kingdom.

A little while later, Yasmine, ever the observant one, pointed out a cluster of mushrooms that grew near the base of a gnarled tree. The fungi's caps were a deep, rich blue, speckled with tiny white dots that seemed to twinkle like stars. Basim, of course, couldn't resist poking them with a stick, only to yelp in surprise as they released a cloud of shimmering spores that caused him to sneeze uncontrollably. Zeni and Yasmine shared a knowing glance before dissolving into laughter at their companion's expense.

As the day wore on, the lush flora gave way and the desert landscape unfolded before them, an expansive tapestry of golden sands interspersed with rocky outcrops and hardy vegetation. The sun began its slow descent towards the horizon, casting long shadows and bathing the world in a warm, orange glow that seemed to set the sands ablaze. Zeni felt a sense of awe at the stark beauty of it all, the vibrant hues and serene stillness a striking contrast to the bustling village she had come to call home.

This desert, though seemingly desolate, was teeming with life. She even recognized much of it due to her dutiful lessons shadowing Hesira. Stalwart desert plants, such as the steadfast date palms and tenacious oleander, dotted the landscape, their roots reaching deep into the earth to draw precious moisture. Small desert creatures, such as lizards and beetles, scurried between the shadows, while the occasional cry of a hawk soaring overhead punctuated the silence. The gentle breeze carried the faint scent of spices, a subtle reminder of the rich and ancient culture that had, according to Neith, thrived in these arid lands for millennia.

Yasmine abruptly stilled, her every sinew coiled like a spring, as a premonition of ill-fortune prickled at her senses. Zeni and Basim exchanged a quizzical glance, their confusion evident, but Yasmine's visage was etched with solemnity, her fingers already seeking the reassuring embrace of her bow.

Zeni's heart began to race, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as anxiety clawed at the edges of her thoughts. She couldn't help but wonder what unseen danger lurked nearby, her imagination conjuring up all manner of nightmarish creatures poised to strike.

The air around them became electric, a disquieting energy crackling through the atmosphere, intertwining with the parched desert zephyrs. They could not see the menace, but through her newfound senses in dealing with Ka, she could feel its insidious presence – a malevolent force, stalking them from the depths of unseen shadows. Zeni felt a shiver run down her spine, despite the oppressive heat that clung to the desert air.

Yasmine's movements were fluid and swift, the seasoned grace of a hunter as she nocked an arrow to her bowstring, her piercing gaze sweeping across the undulating dunes with predatory intensity. Zeni and Basim emulated her vigilance, their own weapons gripped tightly as they readied themselves for the faceless threat that lurked just beyond their vision.

Zeni tried to calm her racing thoughts, focusing on the steady rhythm of her breaths and the reassuring weight of the gathering energy in her hands. She knew that fear would only make her more vulnerable, and she couldn't afford to let it control her. As they stood there, poised on the precipice of conflict, Zeni readied herself for whatever horrors awaited them.

The tension mounted inexorably, like the gathering storm clouds on the horizon, a bouquet of trepidation and unease that turned their stomachs to ice. Moment by moment, they waited, hearts pounding, breaths held, as the silence stretched taut, threatening to snap under the weight of their collective apprehension.

The desert seemed to hold its breath with them, the wind dying down to a whisper, as though even the elements themselves were wary of the impending confrontation. Each second felt like an eternity as they remained poised, their nerves frayed and senses heightened, ready for whatever might emerge from the desolate expanse.

Then, at last, the stillness was broken. Over the crest of a towering sand dune, a group of men appeared, their forms silhouetted against the unforgiving desert sun. Clad in rugged leather armor and spurs, their bodies were emblazoned with smudges of white and green paint, the markings of a warband etched upon their skin.

Zeni's heart still raced, thundering in her ears like the pounding hooves of a warhorse, as she struggled to control the fear that threatened to consume her. Her fists tightened, her knuckles whitening with the strain, as she braced herself for the coming conflict.

She was on edge, her inexperience and uncertainty fueling her anxiety. She glanced between Basim and Yasmine, searching their faces for some indication of what to expect, some hint as to the true nature of the approaching figures. And as the distance between them closed, she prepared herself for the unknown—to face whatever challenges the desert might present.

But as the figures drew closer, a spark of recognition flickered in the eyes of Basim and Yasmine. Their shoulders tensed, their muscles tightened.

"Sand Striders," Basim hissed.