Navah's callow skepticism gradually liquefied as I regaled my harrowing hardships in the lightless caverns and my transcendental encounter with the goddess under Buriti. She spoke gently after clinging to my vernacular like I was a consecrated village shaman. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you before guy...I mean--SHIT, King--Uh Huckleberry?"

She skated even closer on the soft fur pillow, unassuming gaze wide with marvel, dangling from every utterance as I depicted the crisp opaline waters and deific visions of Buriti's prophesied doom by my hand and judgment of my tainted soul only told to my ear.

I dispatched to her my elevation to dominion after my family's bombardment, scanning the horror etched on her face as I described hacking Warlord Aygu's hand maliciously into the hot sand. Her face mirrored the revolutionaries own as I dropped a diminutive stone to the sand, her eyes pursuing it till it hit the ground, mimicking his bloody phalanges.

Her velvety face scrunched tightly when I went into the in-depth segments of my dark claustrophobic descent into the grottoes. Her sandy-colored short and curly hair at times covered her awe-filled stare before she thrust it back reactively to my discovery of the diabolical ape-beast. She gripped her leg as she listened to me go on for what felt like hours.

Her infrequent outbursts of " Doutros' scales !" and breathy gasps fueled my melodramatic showmanship. I widened my arms demonstrating the outlandish ape's towering hellish height, sparing no treacherously gruesome detail of my narrow stale-mate. Navah cradled her olive tone knees, enraptured as I accounted my harrowing experience battling the demi-human beast to my last breath; As the last sands of my life flowed from my ruptured lungs in the mosaic-filled ruins.

The story crescendo of my watery resurrection and the female goddess sparked a fire in Navah's excitable eyes. She inquisitively cocked her head sideways, her gray-amber eyes still glistening with admiration. "So this 'Oasis goddess' just....touched your body?" She put her small hand on her collarbone, making a circle with her slender fingers lightly. " Was she beautiful or an ugly old durik milker like my Ma!?" Navah asked innocently though her cheeks washed red as she searched my vacant gaze over the dunes.

I nodded curtly, provoked both by memories of the goddess's exotic esoteric magnetism and my present company's drifting gaze, both women scrutinized me with the same mix of vulnerability yet blaze...but I couldn't shake the identical nauseous sensation I maintained with the deity at this instant.

How long had it been since I chitchatted freely with a woman near my age? The palace offered only aging advisors and battle-hardened soldiers mixed with horny noblewomen of the court. Though I did not want anything to do with this clingy buggy vagabond...It reminded me of a time when Aiko was more free with her words.

Beyond the canvassed rest site, ashy sandstorm winds ululated, hailing from the capital by its burnt aroma. Navah comfortably leaned into me as a harsh gale shook the green canvas. I caught hints of spice and fig on her hair and skin from life on the caravan pathways. She smelled of remote countries I'd never visited or planned to yet...My pulse hastened as her eyes melted even my King mask I had heavily worn since my family's decimation.

"A goddess, Unkillable beast, and absolute power.....in one day. You might be the most fearless man I’ve ever met in my life!” Navah smiled mischievously. “Or the craziest idiot this side of the Basklands...But I think I believe you Mr. King.”

She playfully lifted the chrome flask. “To King Berry, the Monster Slayer, and Savior of Buriti!” Our gazes met as we drank I felt the warm buzz filling my stomach pleasingly. At that moment, I cared not whether she knew my true name or debased my crown. I had found an oasis from the desert storms within this wandering caravan girl...In this respite among the sands.

I alleviated my throat if dust built, trying to steer my thoughts back to my prevailing goal of making it to the capital. "I also need to not head to Bastion at all, from your accounts word has not reached that we have a ceasefire...Lest we face oblivion on arrival."

Navah outlined my veins her finger along my forearm unexpectedly, sending sparks across my brown skin. "I'm sure a big strong king like you can handle a few rebels." Her coy smile and dainty movements were almost as intoxicating as the fig beer.

Get it together, man. I gently pulled my arm back and took another deep swig to focus. She appeared to not mind my consistent withdrawal as she relaxed her hand softly on her knee tracing imperceptible stripes on her supple olive thigh.

I felt my voice sputter as I pushed dangling rust-colored dreads from my face "Right, well I ought to get back so I can omit this whole aberrant experience...I fear warfare with Svetlan is on the horizon if I do not stake my claim." I said with a lingering tone.

Navah pouted playfully as her shortened curly hair bobbed effortlessly in the waft of hot air. "Okay, enough doom and gloom, your 'Majesty'--You already slew the beast and met the goddess...You don't think that makes you already a great king...?" She leaned in closer, biting her soft lip. My heart hammered as her fragrance flooded my reason.

As Navah advanced toward me, suddenly a torrent of chalky dust sandblasted through the canvas flaps. We jostled apart, shielding our faces until it resolved. Navah laughed playfully but finally felt anxiety from the moment she was striving for. “Maybe ask the goddess to leave us alone.” After the powerful wind subsided she looked at me expectantly almost, her eyes flecked with sand particles.

I nodded, hiding my dissatisfaction mixed with absolute relief. “We SHOULD ask your parents to take me to the capital without arousing their suspicions.” I replayed her smiles and funky laughs at the moment between her responses.

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I felt a growing feeling of doubt....Could a lowly caravan girl truly grow so fond of a lottery king so quickly? Either way, resisting her charms would prove difficult but necessary to derail this voyage to Bastion.

I leaned farther back as my hand began to sear in white hot pain. My silent yelp must have made her either fully convinced of my lunacy or of my elaborate recent events. "What did sand get in your eye, dont be a wuss...sorry you're not gonna behead me right?"

Her joke though light cut me nearly as much as my increasing astral pain in my left palm. " Find me a shaman among the Sand Hounds....now." I defied through gritted teeth, almost barking like my father from the blinding pain. She flinched from the harshness that took my voice as she glanced around to a much more shambled buggy to our left.

"That's...Not a good idea-" She studied my face mix of rising anger and pain displayed heavily, before continuing her thought. Her mouth had lost its animated smiles and pouts and now took on small trembles of anxiety. "I'll try...He doesn't usually allow any outsiders." She stood up reaching her hand out to aid me, the winds of the sandstorm appeared to be playing games with me as sandblasted my eyes once more.

"I can stand." I stood observing my scalding palm with no visible demarcation or indicator for the origin of my panged flesh. She turned her head quickly to the old Buriti wagon before making sure her parents and brother were still engaged in their menial drudgeries. I could not even pretend I cared now if my rouse was detected nor what ensued after...The demi-human demon's fangs tearing into my lungs during my delusional descent were far less painful than this phantom wound.

We bracingly made our way to the hovel of a carriage, rotten wood, and splintered bark decorated it grungily. Navah stepped forward slowly knocking with a shaking hand at the dark cacti-wood door. " Mr. Vaygo... it's Navah, Noi's daughter--I have something that I need help with." As she pivoted to me rocking back and forth on nervous knees and flashing a contrived smile of reassurance I saw the large bulging face of the most aged fucking man id ever glimpsed. Through splintered gaps, I saw jowls that nearly sagged as low as his horrid iron-plated earlobes.

"WHAT?! the fuck you want Navah...Tell your Pa he owes me for--who the dirt-fuck is this?" I would have laughed as the waist-height old man yanked the door open with enough force to break a hinge. "Doutros be swift! I just had Beo fix this fucking piece of durik dung!" He held his hand like he wanted us to enter though his liver-spotted skin seemed to crawl at the sight of me.

Navah stood putting her hands out softly onto the bald man's head lovingly like he wasn't pulsating with vulgarity and disdain. "It's nothing Popa Vaygo, This man is suffering from a Desert Shade...can you purify him before the Doutros drag him awa?" She grabbed my wrist quickly pulling me into the crumbling wheeled shanty. The aroma of molded oasis fruits and dried animal flesh clung heavily in the diminutive space.

We sat in a strange triangle directed by powdered Bloomrose petals on the hard floor. He spent a few silent moments before speaking in an atonal voice I heard said to help connect to the native 'gods'. "....Why are you here?" His skewering milky watch and hanging scarred facial tissue reminded me of the ancient cave demon I encountered in the depths.

The question shook me to my essence, I could answer with the truth--I am an errant king sent wayward by intangible spirits? I am the last Vascan masking as Buriti's sovriegn ruler? I am just as lost in life now as before my ascension...the most simple absolute truth I could put any honesty into. "I am just someone looking for aid outside my own comprehension..." I battled through the discomfort to speak in short bursts.

"I would say, Old King Vasca's son...marked by Du'esh--Aint much I can do for you now boy." He chortled smugly as some spittle hung from his numb geriatric lips. " Where did you get that tattoo...sure looks fresh" He pointed a small twig pipe at the exact hand I felt pain.

"I didn't get any country stick'n-pokes! How do YOU recognise me..." If my hand wasn't having pangs of birth I would have slapped this old fool. I gripped my hands tightly as I felt Navah's nervous gaze at the rising tension always felt when Old Buritian and New Vascan tempers encountered. Her bouncing leg gave away her unease.

The man took a resonant inhale of some substance from the twigged pipe. "You reek like the capital....and scat--best watch yourself out here boy, your papa isn't here to sign any to have me executed." He made a hand gesture of a rifle with his unrestricted hand.

Wrath seethed in my returned vitality as I finally had enough of these frolickings in the sticks. "Fuck you old mud-guzzler! I AM KING VASCA....you will respect me--My father's charred body in the decimated capital is my edict to slaughter your whole band." I grabbed the man by his disgusting durik skin robe muddled with chalk and what smelled like urine. "FIX MY HAND NOW." I felt the breeze of the buggy door flinging open suddenly.

Beo's massive fist hurtled toward my face without forewarning. Years of semi-real combat exercise spent with Aiko took over like clockwork —I deftly sidestepped the brutish blow then swept Beo’s leg in one fluid motion sending him careening through the rotted walls of the carraige. I felt my heart pumping from all the staved anger stored from my semi-loss to the ape demon. Though Navah decided I slew the beast the clear bloody stale-mate had racked my ego with my follies.

He slammed down noisily as Navah yelped loudly rushing to the newly formed exit of the shitty wagon. Dust settling she screamed her brother's name again I pinned one of his thick arms behind his back sharply as we began to wrestle in the red-hot sand. I was able to lock my hands together around his neck in a simple choke I used in tavern brawls.

I heard the old man's cough-filled cackle as Beo's muffled yells vibrated the hot particles of sand. "Take your fucking hands off me, I knew you weren't some shitty guard!" Beo roared, thrashing uselessly against my hold, his face grinding deeper. I made sure my grip was just tight enough to keep him from losing consciousness as another blast of sand racked my body from the hard sandstorm brewing. Sweat dripped from my dreadlocks onto the sand next to his head softly as the moment slowed down.

I heard heavy footfalls as they approached behind me over the winds. I turned to see Navah's father Yovik, mother Noi, and a dozen roused caravaners staring, appalled. Noi rushed to help Navah out of the elder's hut wagon, she was hyperventilating with her hands trembling profusely.

"Our fucking help has been durik-shit! This swill-chugging Vascan has duped us..." Yovik thundered, his normally pale angular face flushed angrily. The crowd bristled behind him as Vaygo slowly climbed out, taking in the air in smug huffs.

My mind raced with apprehension but my body's muscle memory stayed titanium-clad. Even Navah refused to meet my wild gaze though silent tears shimmered down her cheeks, whether from distress or disappointment, I could not tell with Beo's large arms and legs kicking up sand.

The voice of the dwarf elder pierced the adrenaline pulsing my eardrums. "Fucking doutros' den! ya messed up my wagon 'King'" He exhaled smoke into the blowing white particulate storm. " You wanna come here and wing your dick around? Your shitty blood doesn't mean any more than Beo's here...The Svets will pay good money for you in Bastion!" I swiftly jumped from Beo's back and checked my palm a light cyan markation now glew dimly in it...The mark was dripping with imperceptible liquid as some of the Sand Hounds gasped in awe while others seemed to fear me.

Now what happened next was something that left all in attendance baffled and staring straight at the normally blinding Buriti sky. Black torrential clouds rumbled into view from every angle. Surges of lightning detonated into the camp before me laying desolate obliteration to everything in it mangled with its plasma tendrils. Flesh melted from the blackened flaming skeleton of the dozen or so Sand Hounds before me as my eyes widened in shock.

Beo had tackled his sister and the crotchety old man behind a boulder as two beams barreled their way from the maw of the storm clouds. Sand turned to mist-exploded glass on impact as I shielded my face with my glowing palm.

I had never seen a cloud not string beaned across the sky...Palace-sized storm clouds had left the sky void of any beam of light as darkness fell on the camp. The smell of burnt hair and the screaming wales of barely alive caravaners filled my ears after the ringing subsisted. Large droplets of hot water fell from the sky causing the sand to become muddy under my feet.

What the fuck just happened...