I glare as Elder Kri'va drags me into the tent, the place where her hand gripping my arm red. She lets go and I massage the spot, as she and the other two women bustle around a wooden mannequin centered in the room. The sight of the outfit draped upon it catches my breath, and a smile creeps onto my lips. The ensemble was elegant, comprised of a delicate, pastel bluegreen lowcut corset with beautiful embroidery that showed swirls like the eddies of wind across the desert sand. A sheer pastel teal top was attached to the corset, seemingly stitchless, billowing out from the sides and back, its sleeves drawn down and split to the elbow.

The skirt was a pleated mix of the same sheer material and bluegreen silks, short in the front and which grew longer toward the back, the pleats a reminder of the most delicate of bird feathers. The loin undergarment was studded with a small number of small, beautiful stones shaped like triangular gems. Lastly a headdress with waves of material attached to a whitesilver circlet and small, delicate chain were draped on the mannequin, the headdress made of the same light, sheer material as the top but of a pale blue color. The outfit's pieces seemed to catch the light of the torches, creating a sparkling blue and green haze across the tent.

Elder Kri'va pipes up to the women, her words smudged by her missing teeth.

'Get about now, the ceremony will begin soon. And you!' She points to me. 'Ye best be losin' that attitude. The Lis'ya isn't a petulant child.'

My brow tightens as I look at the woman.

'What do you mean, attitude? I've been manhandled the entire way, as if I were incapable of walking on my own. You expect me to *enjoy* that?'

Elder Kri'va barks out a dry laugh.

'Whether ye enjoy somethin' or not doesn't matter much, Teler'il. We didnae expect the sands teh be callin' this soon, but here we are. All those people out there are

looking at YE to be their voice and their feet.' She places a warm, wrinkled hand on my cheek gently, her voice and eyes becoming softer. 'Teler'il, be calm. Think of

your lad ou' there. He'll be watchin ye, playin' for ye. Just lose yerself in the music.'

Our eyes meet, and despite myself I smile back at her before pressing my forehead to hers.

'Yes, Elder, you're right. I'm just...on edge.' I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

She takes my hands into hers and the two of us speak in unison, as we had hundreds of times before.

' "Small mercies will guide us

Through the dunes of the Ishar." '

The elder separates herself from me as I shake my head gently to clear it, the beads in my long black hair clicking together lightly. I turn back toward the center of the tent where the women gently take apart the pieces from the mannequin, supervised by Elder Kri'va as she clicks her tongue. I unwrap and unfasten the serviceable dancer's dress from my body, the fabric pooling to the floor. The elder comes to me finally and we step before the mannequin as the women begin to help me into the clothing. They carefully pull the corset onto my frame, the material soft against my bare skin. I exhale sharply as I expect a tug from the back, but the material settled as if it were a second skin, comfortable and light. The sheer top flowed around me, as if the whisper of winds outside were enough to carry it off into the night. Delicately, I take the undergarments and pull them on, the material as soft as the corset, while the women help me into the skirt and headdress. With every move of my head, the headdress almost floats around me.

Elder Kri'va is silent as she steps around me, twitching material here and there, making sounds of approval. The women move to the front of the tent and murmur in hushed tones, their voices in awe against the backdrop of the instruments and sounds from outside. As the elder steps back from me, she speaks up.

'Teler'il, feel for the movement. Tell if anything feels out of place.'

With a slow, deep breath, I nod to her, and begin simple movements with my hands, stepping lightly on the rug underneath me. Keeping my breathing even, I begin to twirl, bending to the side then backward with my arms drawn away from me, then throwing my hands outward sharply as I snap forward again, then begin the more complex of the movements. The material attached to me softly flew, harshly snapped and gently twirled, all to my movements. The skirt flared as the headdress floated around me, my cascading hair flowing around me. I was lost to the music of my body, the glancing of colors striking the walls of the tent like millions of motes of stars.

At last, my movement slows and eventually comes to a stop, my arms wrapped around myself, hands coming slowly to a stop in the air before lowering to my sides. As my senses came back to me, I heard sobs from behind me and Elder Kri'va beaming at me, tracks of tears staining her weathered face.

She opens her mouth as if to speak, closes it again, then tries once more.

'Aye, Teler'il...yer ready. That was...marvelous.'

She wipes fresh tears from her face, then steps toward me and embraces me. Wrapping my arms around her, I hold the elder close, my heartbeat deep and resounding in my breast.

We came to ourselves, heartbeats later, to the sounds of the people outside quieting down. We could hear the sounds of the musicians begin to pluck and drum, flaut and resound. Soon, that also died down until the only sound left was the strings of the Yul'yi being plucked softly, reverently.

Elder Kri'va stepped away from me and ushered the other women to their places, each of them putting on dark silk robes, deep hoods pulled over their faces, their red puffy eyes glittering. The elder pulls her own robe on before taking her place in front of me. The other two took their places at the entrance and simultaneously drew open the tent flaps as the elder and I step forward. As we pass through the entrance, the two take their positions behind me, creating a triangle with the elder, myself in the center.

The sands before us were already quiet, but as we stepped forward it felt as if true silence descended on the commune. The bonfire in the distance had been put out with only the smoke rising from the sands any indication there had been a fire at all. Braziers lined the way up the dune side toward where the nis'yat was located. We stepped slowly toward where the musicians waited, the Yul'yi the only one playing. I looked on toward the Yul'yi who stood to the side of the stone pathway leading to the dais.

Qal'ro was illuminated only by moonlight and stars, and yet I could see every movement he made, every plucking of the ban'lo in his hands, every expression. He showed only quiet pride and love as I approached, his breath catching in his chest as he looked in awe at my appearance. I smile at him as I pass by, and he shakes himself gently before giving me a green eyed wink.

As we reach the steps of the nis'yat, the elder steps to the side and flanked by the two women. I continue on, climbing the stone steps, each swept bare save for the small eddies of sand blown by the desert breeze. I step lightly onto the nis'yat and moved to the middle of the platform, moving with a gentle grace that had been practiced countless times before. The Yul'yi's plucking ends and the last chord echoes along the dunes, the only other sound the snapping of the low braziers behind the throng of people, their light and heat unable to reach my raised stage.

I look about the dunes and sands of the Ishara'ni, its very existence bespoken of tranquility, grace and life. The rolling hills of shifting sand were graced with the silver of the celestial bodies far above. My breath stops in my throat as I feel tears in my eyes, before swiping them away softly. Just as in the tent, I take my stance by leaning to the side slightly, feet crossed with one before the other, hands crossed above me oppositely crossed. The kiss of the wind on my cheeks was cool to the touch, yet warmer than any lover's embrace. Closing my eyes, I breathe the clean night air deeply, then I open my eyes and begin my song and the cadence of the dance as I had started in the tent. Qal'ro follows my movements with quick notes, then slowing again, before the ensemble begins to follow my movements with haunting grace.

The sky waneth with heart of the abandon,

A hope and love of peace long past by.

Hark to me O Spirit of Sand,

My heart doth speak truth to you.

Under the moon's enchanting glow, we gather in the night,

A people united, embracing the starry light.

Our voices rise in reverence, carried on the desert breeze,

As we sing our sacred song, among the ancient seas.

Hale, O Spirit of Wind, hear our plea,

On this bountiful night, we send praise to thee.

With hearts aflame with passion, we seek out your name,

In the depths of darkness, your love we claim.

The moonlight dances upon us, casting shadows in the sand,

We sing to you the ancient songs, passed down by tribal hands.

We seek your guiding beauty, terrible, and sure,

The guardian of the desert, your heart absolute and pure.

O Spirit of the Oasis, hear our hearts and calls,

On this bountiful night, we send praise to your halls.

With passions calling out to you, we seek out your wisdom,

In the depths of light, our souls gain their freedom.

Through barren lands we wander, under your blanket of stars,

With each step we take, we feel your loving arms.

You guide us through the wilderness, with hope and grace,

As we travers the shifting dunes, your essence we embrace.

O Spirit of the Mirage, hear our shifting needs,

On this bountiful night, we send our drifting pleads.

With loves abound through grateful deeds, we seek out release,

In the depths of the earth, our bodies shall know peace.

As life unfolds its secrets, we sing into the void,

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

The melody of our spirits, forever unalloyed.

O, Spirit of the Desert, in your beautiful grace,

We honor you, our guardian, forever in our hearts embrace.

As the last words of my song leave my lips, the sound echoes through the desert night. The movement of my clothing ends and settles around me as I mirror the position I had started in: leaning to the side with arms and legs crossed, hands splayed out in reverence to the night sky. The musicians behind me had gradually let their performance come to an end before I finished singing, with only Qal'ro's plucked chords completing the ceremony. I had found my eyes closed at some point during the ceremony, my senses picking up even the smallest of details. I could smell the burning of the braziers, sweet and smoky, hear the barest whistle of the breeze along the sand dunes. My skin crawled with the crunch of individual grains of sand beneath my feet. My tongue could taste the sweetness of the night air.

And still I did not move. My body refused to, and I found I didn't want to. My senses fell away gradually, and all sound seemed to wash from the world. I opened my eyes slowly to the expanse of the silvery dunes beyond.

i have come, child

I gasp as a sonorous feminine voice resounds, around me, under me, *through me*, like the deepest of drums, yet without any of the sounds carrying. Taking a step back in shock, I look around furtively for the speaker. My eyes fall on the people behind me, but they seemed to have stopped in place as if they were statues. The fingers of smoke from the dead bonfire had ceased moving, and the braziers themselves were stopped mid-flame. I could only see the shifting of the sands blown by the miniscule breeze.

Screwing my eyes shut I take a deep breath, then open both mouth and eyes to respond. The words begin to flow, as if I had always known what to say.

'Spirit of the Desert, O Vish'nil, I come as your vessel Lis'ya, to speak your words and to follow your grace.'

Even as I said the words, I knew them to be true. I felt them in the deepest reaches of my heart, even if I had never practiced them or known them until this moment. I hesitate, then bring myself to stand squarely in the middle of the nis'yat, my arms held low and out before me.

The voice once again resounds through my body.

proud are the children of the Ishar, Child

i am pleased they still hold a guiding light

what do you give, Child, for the sake of your people

As the last words trickle through my mind and body, I shudder. The voice felt like grains of sand shifting under my hands, like the sweeping of the desert hills, of roaring rivers and beautiful oases, of craggy mountains and scraggly plantlife.

Once again, words form in my mouth without my knowledge, like a burst dam roaring forth to cascade through valleys.

'O Vish'nil, I give to you my life, so that your will continue through my children, and their children. I give the water of my womb, the rivers of my blood, the crackling of my spirit, and the passions of my soul. I give to you the bounty of life that you have given to us since the beginning, and ask only for your wisdom, ask only for your guidance, ask only for your love, as has always been, as shall always be.

She speaks again.

these are things that are always given

and still these things shall always be accepted

i accept these gifts from you and in turn offer one to you

Gasping through grit teeth, the spirit's voice rattles my very core once again. Sands begin to kick up suddenly, a sandstorm thicker than tar tearing its way around me so I could only see the nis'yat and nothing beyond. Swirling sands coalesced into a scene, of armored riders bearing down on the young and the old, slaughtering mercilessly. A form of an elderly woman brought a spear to bear and took one of the riders, and then another, her stooped and wizened body quick for her age, belying the history of a dancer through the ages. She was brought down by two riders, however, as they pierced her heart, her body crying out as the forms disintegrated into the storm. The storm then showed a small number of people walking off together into the sands beyond, leaving behind dozens of corpses.

I looked on in horror as the scene continued, before the swirling storm blew down toward the ground and dissipated, leaving no trace it had ever existed. I could feel my skin flush with unease and bile threatening to overtake me, my knees buckling beneath me. Swallowing quickly, I force the feeling down and stand up on unsteady feet.

a gift to you child

a portent to understand

your gifts i would welcome

but your gifts offered will never come

still do you desire to be my vessel

The spirit says the last as a question, the voice soft and gentle this time. I hesitate, wondering at the scene I watched. *What...was that..*, I ask myself. Shaking my head, I look back toward the silvery dunes and speak out.

'O Spirit of my ancestors, Spirit of my land, I desire to be your vessel, to accept your guiding hand.'

The spirit says nothing, but instead a cloud of sand and air swirl up from the edge of the platform. A featureless and faceless figure with a shifting, vaguely feminine body flows forward before stopping inches from me. It holds out its hand to my face, the coarse sand gentle against my cheek. Mirroring the figure's action, I touch its face, and press my forehead to it. In unison, the figure and I speak the mantra of the Ishar.

Small mercies will guide us

Through the dunes of the Ishar.

Time will guide our destinies

As the chaos of fates go free.

We celebrate with heart and home

As our freedoms lay upon shifting sands.

As the last line finishes, the wind picks up once more, blowing the figure in front of me across the nis'yat.

we entwine through time and more, Child

let us see what fates have stored

Again, the spirit's voice fills my mind and body but neither resonant or loud, but still deep, as if a large sound filled a small space. The encounter with the desert spirit quickly fades from me, unbidden. I grasp for it, trying to remember, but it leaves as soon as it had come. I blink, and the sounds of the people erupt behind me. I jump lightly, startled, then turn to the cheering commune, the dozens of people gathered for the sole purpose of celebrating life. As I gaze on them, I could feel the grasp of knowledge beginning to form in my mind, a deeper understanding of my own people

"The life we live is just a grain of a moment," I think to myself.

I smile toward the congregation, putting the thought aside, and laugh as I jump into the arms of the waiting Qal'ro, his lips seeking mine as we kiss amidst the cheers.

Elder Kri'va comes toward me, pushing people aside aside, lightly whacking some with a cane she must have been handed, before embracing me fully.

'The beauty, child! I've never seen anything like it since my younger days! Ye truly are my great grandchild!' She cackles then, humor lighting up her face.

'I certainly hope so, Elder,' I say. 'It'd be a shame to not have the same passion as you.' Her snort illicits a laugh from me, the mirth behind the exchange gentle.

Qal'ro swings his ban'lo onto his back before picking me up in his arms, his green eyes glittering along with his easy smile amidst a shallow beard.

'Come dearest, let's head back and celebrate. I learned this joke from old Brag'un today, and I'm dying to tell it to you.'

I put my arms around his neck and laugh against his chest.

'It had better not be the one about the *sil'ir'it* and the miner again. I think I've heard that one far too often.'

He laughs and kisses me.

'No, no, dearest, it's actually one about a father boar and a mother eagle.'

The group of people begin to follow Qal'ro and myself away from the nis'yat, putting out the braziers as they pass by. Back at the remains of the bonfire, a set of older boys tend to the embers glowing in the sand, working together quickly to bring the bonfire back to roaring life. I sat there with Qal'ro, our arms linked, drinking in the sights and sounds of one another, speaking of small things. What to find to trade in the morning, our journey back to out into the desert. We spoke of the towns we wanted to see if our journeys took us to the Guiymor steppes to the far west, and of our next performance for our tribe.

Qal'ro began to speak to the others around us, sharing the heat of the bonfire and the drink among us. I rested my back against his chest, his arms surrounding me lovingly and protectively, his deep voice lulling me into a trance. The world began to fall away, until I could only hear a heartbeat. I stared deeply into the flames of the raging fire, the heartbeat growing louder until it filled my senses.

a quality of life

the begetting of a new future

shall we weep...Child...

The last line was a question, one that I had no answer for. I barely understood the question itself. I was content, what was there to weep over?

At that, a man jostles into Qal'ro and myself, my senses coming back to me in a rush. The two of us laughed as the man sprawled out in the sand, before the two of us help him to sit in the light and heat of the fire. He begins to mumble something incoherent while patting Qal'ro on the arm.

I look toward Qal'ro.

'An apology, do you think?'

He appears to think deeply about it.

'Ah, but I like to think it was more a deep philosophical musings of a man who sees much and says little,' he responds in a serious tone, though his eyes betray his mischief.

I laugh and stumble into him, my head feeling free with the drink. Qal'ro catches me, tottering himself.

'Aye dearest, I think it's time we awayed to bed, shall we?'

I smile at him and wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him.

'Yes, I think we shall.'

Together we arrive at the tent I had gotten dressed in, ducking inside quickly. Moonlight peers through a small slit in the entrance of the tent, illuminating us and our surroundings. He kisses me gently, then begins to help me to undress, carefully placing each piece of clothing back upon the mannequin. He was on his knees putting my boots away as I sat sideways in the center of the tent, on the rug I had danced upon earlier, my legs to one side. He turned and stopped, his smile at my nakedness appreciative and filled with a contained passion that set my skin to flame.

I beckon to him, and at the cue, he moves forward, removing his silk pants and shirt, his body now as naked as I was. I lay back as he crawls forward over me, laying down next to me. He weaves his fingertips along my skin, and I press my face against his neck, breathing him in. Gently, he touches my face, then runs his fingers through my hair, kissing me softly and deeply. Our kisses become more passionate as he abandons my hair for my breast, kneading gently, softly caressing my nipple with his fingertip. I gasp as my need for him grows. I run my hand down his chest, to his thighs and finally his manhood.

He breathes deeply, lays fully over me and pushes my legs open with his knees. I wrap my legs around his waist, our kisses deep and furtive, our speed picking up. He guides himself between my legs, before entering me. I can feel his body shake with controlled desire, and I gasp as he fills me entirely. I could feel blood trickle from me, but he only lays there, watching me, kissing me, breathing with me. Finally after an eternity I feel ready, and grasping him I pull him toward me.

He begins moving, gently, as my breath catches between pain and mounting pleasure. His lips meet mine, then my jaw, my ears, and finally my neck, making me gasp, an electric shiver running deep, down into my spine and through my limbs, before coming back to my head. I cry out as he moves, guiding our lovemaking to a slow intensity. I feel him unable to resist any longer as he moves more quickly, more thoughtlessly, my body and voice encouraging him. The night felt like it would last forever, our quiet moans permeating the tent. He looks into my eyes, his own filled with a mixture of unrestrained desire and love, and I kiss him lovingly. He cries out as he finishes, his warmth spreading within me, my own cries quiet against the desert night.