In the heavy silence of the cave, a drop fell on the stone floor. The young woman, sitting on the edge of the window, moaned slightly. The guards surrounding her did not even deign to react. Thirst had silenced them for several hours. She fell to the ground with a dull shock. Ignoring the pain, she slowly dragged herself along the ground to the dry spring. Her blue and white tunic was already dirty with dust, and was torn against the roughness of the cave. Her stiff brown hair trailed behind her. She reached the pool and pulled herself up onto its edge with difficulty. What she saw made her believe it was a mirage. A slight trickle of water ran from between the stones. She put her hand in, and the coolness gave her a smile, but she lacked the water to shed tears. So without hesitation, she dipped her head into the cool water. She drank so much that she began drowning. The water level dropped quickly, but the moment she realized it, she fell against the outside of the stone basin, out of breath. She gasped for air as desperately as she had drunk the water. After a few seconds, her composure regained, she opened her eyes, which were no longer as dry as a salt lake, and looked around the room with a clear mind. She was in a small room carved out of the rock of the cavern. A door and two square, hip-high openings led into the rest of the cave. From the pool to her left, a gutter led to the door, then to a large hole in the floor, which once held the city's water supply. On either side of the gate, the bodies of the two guards who had been guarding the gate were slumped over, their halberds resting at their sides. From where she stood, she couldn't tell if they were still alive or not. Taking advantage of her renewed vigor for a few more moments, she got to her feet. A glance into the basin reassured her: it was filling up again, albeit slowly. Taking the canteen she wore around her waist, she filled it and approached the men at the door. The first one was sadly dead, his glassy eyes and dry skin clashing with the majestic, if dirty uniform he wore. The young woman said a prayer for his soul and then came to the second man. His hoarse breathing was getting weaker and weaker. She poured water into his mouth delicately so as not to waste a single drop. The man ended up seizing abruptly the gourd to empty it himself in his gullet. He put it back on the ground before croaking a "thank you" to the attention of the young woman. He remained slumped where he was. His gaze was suddenly fixed on her, with a gleam of recognition. He said, "You're a deserter, aren't you? One of those young people who refused to follow the crusade for the Holy City?"

He fell silent, tired of the few words he spoke, but kept a steady look on his face.

"Old man, your companion gave his life for the cause, and yet he received nothing in return. And you almost went too, and for what purpose?"

Silence

"It is out of honor that we guard the source of life. If no one did, it would be defiled by rogues, or even worse, by desert raiders. And evena if the spring has dried up, it doesn't change the primary mission. The spring must always be protected for the sake of the cause!" His last sentence was louder, almost shouted despite his hoarse voice. But his face changed, a shadow of pain masked his expression. "But I don't know if the city is still standing after this horrible drought." Taking a deep breath, he stood up as best he could. The young woman took a step back, toward the exit of the cave.

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"Don't come near me."

He approached the spring, and sighed when he saw that the water was slowly flowing into the basin. Taking a wineskin, he filled it and took another sip.

"I mean you no harm. I owe you my life, and I am grateful for it. I propose that you tell the rest of the city, and save anyone who can be. I will protect you if necessary. What do you say?"

The young woman nodded. Seeing that the man still had his back to her, she said:

"That's fine with me. I warn you, don't change your mind at the last moment. I care about this city and its people, that's why I saved you too, but I'll disappear as soon as the situation is returned to normalcy."

She had reached for a scabbard around her waist, but no blade was in it. The dagger was laying on the floor in the middle of the room, but the guard didn't seem to notice her suspicious movement or the weapon on the floor.

"Very well. My colleague should always have a canteen at his waist. Take it so we can bring water to the barracks." The young girl complied. She retrieved her blade in passing.

"I haven't introduced myself yet, my name is Jean de la Ronde. And what is yours?

-Alice. Alice Velia.

-Nice to meet you Alice."

The woman and the soldier walked out of the spring room together, three full gourds in hand, and walked to the exit. The water was now flowing over the ground, pushing out the dust that had accumulated in the gully, and running down the wall of the tank in a gentle trickle.

They rounded the pit, and found an unsettling sight in front of the carved entrance to the cave. A foul smell and a cloud of flies hung around the doorway. The corpses of several soldiers were laying on the ground next to those of civilians. Bloody weapons laid here and there.

Jean's face was grim. He said, "I fought with them when we were attacked by these desperate people. We couldn't convince them that we had no more water here, and they pounced on us. It was a slaughter, but me and Baptiste," he turned his face inward, "were too tired and thirsty to give them a burial. But before we take care of the dead, we must save the living." He then began to search among the soldiers for survivors, but they all seemed to be lifeless. He retrieved their empty canteens anyway, and gave his full ones to Alice, to whom he asked, "Go save some lives, I'll fill these bottles."

Alice took them and disappeared from John's sight as she walked into the city streets.