A QUIET LIFE, INTERRUPTED
Ashwin sat at his desk, a crumpled noodle cup pushed to the side of his keyboard. The faint hum of his computer filled the small room, a sound so familiar it felt like a part of him. His routine was unbroken: wake up, work, scroll through social media, sleep, and repeat. Life wasn’t bad, exactly—it was stable, predictable. But some days, Ashwin wondered if this was all there was.
“Another day, another dollar,” he muttered to himself, stretching and reaching for the cold dregs of his coffee.
Outside, the city buzzed with its usual rhythm. Neon lights reflected off wet pavement as rain drizzled softly. On a whim, Ashwin decided to go for a walk. He pulled on a jacket, stepping into the cool night air. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional car passing by.
He was halfway to the convenience store when it happened. The blaring horn of a truck came too late for him to react. A screech of tires. A blinding flash of light.
Then, silence.
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A NEW BEGINNING
When Ashwin opened his eyes, his first thought was that he had somehow survived. But the searing heat on his skin and the strange golden landscape told him otherwise. He was lying in a sea of sand, his body half-buried. The air shimmered with heatwaves, and the sun loomed above like a relentless eye.
Groaning, he sat up, sand falling from his hair. “What... where am I?” His voice cracked, his throat parched.
Around him, the dunes stretched endlessly, their curves catching the sunlight like molten gold. The wind carried a faint, haunting whistle, as if mocking his disorientation.
Ashwin tried to think rationally. He remembered the truck, the impact. Had he been dreaming? Or was this...
“Am I dead?” he whispered. The thought chilled him despite the heat.
Then he saw it: a faint glimmer at the edge of his vision. He blinked, thinking it was a trick of the sunlight, but the glimmer sharpened into words, floating in the air before him.
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Welcome, Traveler.
System initializing...
Status: Rebirth confirmed. Adjusting to host specifications.
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“What the hell?” Ashwin muttered. He reached out to touch the words, but his hand passed through them.
The text shifted.
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System Operational.
You have been transported to the world of Ishraal. This system will assist you in navigating your new reality.
Beginner Tutorial unlocked.
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“What is this, some kind of game?” he muttered, glancing around to see if anyone else was witnessing this. But he was alone.
Before he could fully process it, more options appeared:
1. Status
2. Inventory
3. Quests
The words floated in his vision like a HUD in a video game. Tentatively, he said aloud, “Status.”
Immediately, new text replaced the menu.
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Name: Unknown
Level: 1
Class: None
Skills: None
Traits: [Eternal Outsider]
Condition: [Dehydrated] [Exhausted]
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Ashwin frowned. “Eternal Outsider? That’s comforting.”
He tried saying, “Inventory,” and a grid appeared in his vision, mostly empty. One item stood out: Starter Pack. He reached out mentally to interact with it, and a small description appeared.
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Starter Pack
Contains basic survival tools for newcomers. Use with caution.
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He debated using it immediately but decided against it. If he had learned anything from games, it was that starter packs were best saved for emergencies.
For now, survival was his priority. The blazing sun and the dryness in his throat reminded him he was in immediate danger.
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THE CALL OF SURVIVAL
Ashwin began walking, his steps sinking into the soft dunes. The sand was deceptively hard to traverse; every step felt like two. He searched the horizon for any sign of water or shelter, but the landscape was unyielding in its uniformity.
As he walked, he began to notice peculiar things. The sand wasn’t entirely lifeless. Strange tracks crisscrossed the dunes—patterns made by creatures he couldn’t identify. Once, he spotted a small lizard-like thing with glowing blue eyes darting under the sand.
The system occasionally flickered into view, offering tidbits of information.
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Tip: Life in Ishraal is resilient. Observe the desert to uncover its secrets.
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“Great advice,” Ashwin muttered, his throat too dry for sarcasm to carry weight.
Hours passed, or so it felt. His legs ached, and his head pounded from dehydration. Just when despair began to creep in, he saw it: a smudge on the horizon, dark against the endless gold.
At first, he thought it was a mirage, but the smudge grew clearer as he staggered closer. It was a caravan—a line of camels and people moving slowly across the dunes. Relief surged through him, giving him the strength to wave his arms.
“Help! Over here!” he shouted, his voice cracked and weak.
The caravan halted. Figures turned toward him, their silhouettes sharp against the sun. After a moment, several riders broke off from the group, heading his way.
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FIRST CONTACT
As the riders approached, Ashwin noted their attire—long, flowing robes and scarves that shielded them from the sun. Their faces were mostly obscured, save for their sharp, watchful eyes.
One of them raised a hand, signaling Ashwin to stop. “Stay where you are, stranger,” the man said, his voice muffled by the scarf.
Ashwin froze, raising his hands in what he hoped was a universal gesture of harmlessness. “I mean no harm! Please, I need water.”
The riders exchanged glances, speaking in a language Ashwin couldn’t understand. The system flickered.
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Skill Acquired: Linguistic Adaptation
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Translation now enabled.
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The leader’s next words became intelligible: “You speak strangely. Who are you, and why are you alone in the sands?”
Ashwin hesitated. “I... I don’t know how I got here. I just woke up in the desert.”
The leader’s eyes narrowed. “A wanderer without provisions or purpose. A fool, or something worse?”
The others murmured, their tones wary. After a tense pause, the leader dismounted and approached Ashwin. “You will come with us. If your story is true, you will not survive alone.”
Relief flooded Ashwin as he nodded. “Thank you. I owe you.”
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A CARAVAN OF WONDERS
The caravan was larger than it had seemed from afar. Dozens of camels carried goods—spices, silks, and other wares Ashwin couldn’t identify. The people were a mix of men and women, all wearing similar desert attire.
As they moved, Ashwin marveled at the desert around them. The dunes seemed alive, shifting subtly with the wind. He noticed other peculiarities: occasional bursts of greenery marking hidden oases, strange bird-like creatures circling high above, and shimmering heat waves that almost looked like barriers.
The people of the caravan were wary of him. They spoke among themselves in hushed tones, their eyes often darting his way. Ashwin could hardly blame them—he must have seemed like an anomaly.
“Drink,” the leader said, handing Ashwin a small waterskin.
Ashwin took it gratefully, careful not to gulp too quickly. The water was cool and slightly sweet, a balm to his parched throat. “Thank you. What’s your name?”
The man hesitated. “Kasim. And you?”
“Ashwin,” he replied.
Kasim nodded curtly. “Rest for now. We will speak more when we reach the oasis.”
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A WORLD OF MAGIC
As the caravan journeyed, Ashwin began to pick up snippets of conversation. The people spoke of magic as casually as one might discuss the weather.
“...conjured fire to fend off the sand wraiths...”
“...warding sigils need recharging...”
“...the winds carry whispers of the djinn...”
Ashwin’s curiosity burned, but he kept his questions to himself for now.
The system, however, offered occasional insights.
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Tip: Magic in Ishraal is deeply tied to its elements. Study it to unlock your potential.
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Potential. The word lingered in his mind. What potential could he possibly have in a world like this?
When the caravan finally stopped at an oasis—a lush, hidden paradise surrounded by date palms—Ashwin felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, in this strange new world, he could find a purpose.
THE OASIS REFUGE
The caravan halted at the edge of the oasis, a shimmering pocket of life nestled in the vast desert expanse. Tall date palms swayed gently in the breeze, their fronds casting soft, dappled shadows over the clear water below. The faint hum of insects filled the air, mingling with the chatter of the caravan’s people as they set about making camp.
Ashwin stood at the fringes, unsure of his place. His body ached from the journey, his throat still raw despite the water Kasim had given him. As the others busied themselves unloading goods, tying camels to posts, and lighting fires, Kasim approached him.
“Here,” Kasim said, handing Ashwin a rough cloth sack. “Inside, you will find bread and dried fruit. Eat, but do not waste it. In the desert, food is precious.”
“Thank you,” Ashwin replied, clutching the bag. He hesitated, then asked, “Why are you helping me? I’m a stranger, and I’m sure I look like trouble.”
Kasim tilted his head, studying him. “The desert is harsh. Even strangers deserve a chance to survive. But make no mistake—you will earn your keep. The Bariq do not carry burdens for free.”
Ashwin nodded, understanding the unspoken warning. He settled near one of the smaller fires, untying the bag to find a small loaf of coarse bread and a handful of dates. He ate slowly, savoring each bite despite their simplicity. Around him, the caravan moved like a well-rehearsed play, each member knowing their role.
A sudden system notification appeared, startling him.
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Quest Alert: Earn the Trust of the Bariq Tribe.
Objective: Contribute to the caravan’s success.
Reward: Increased Reputation with the Bariq. Unlock additional quests.
Failure Consequence: Expulsion from the caravan.
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Ashwin frowned at the message, the words hovering ominously in his vision. Failure wasn’t an option. He needed these people—they were his lifeline in this strange world. The idea of being cast out into the merciless desert again was unthinkable.
“Fine,” he muttered. “But how?”
As if in response, Kasim called out to him. “Stranger! If you’re done eating, come here. You might be of use.”
Ashwin dusted off his hands and stood, approaching Kasim near a stack of wooden crates. The older man gestured to the crates and then to a small group of camels nearby.
“These need to be distributed among the tents. Start with the food. The faster you move, the sooner we rest.”
“Got it,” Ashwin said, rolling up his sleeves. He grabbed one of the smaller crates and carried it toward the nearest tent, where a woman sat grinding spices in a stone bowl. She glanced up as he approached, her dark eyes scrutinizing him.
“Where should I put this?” Ashwin asked.
“Inside,” she said curtly, nodding toward the tent’s opening.
He placed the crate down and moved on, repeating the process with the others. The work was tiring, but as he settled into a rhythm, he found a strange sense of satisfaction in the routine. He was doing something, contributing. The tension in his chest began to ease, if only slightly.
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A GLIMPSE OF MAGIC
Later that evening, as the caravan members gathered around the central fire, Ashwin sat on the outskirts, observing. The firelight danced on their faces, and their voices were filled with laughter and stories of distant cities, dangerous encounters, and trades gone awry.
Then, one of the younger men—a wiry figure with sharp features—stood and extended his hands over the fire. The flames leapt higher, shifting from orange to a deep blue. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the group, though no one seemed alarmed.
Ashwin leaned forward, captivated.
The man began to chant softly, his voice carrying a lilting melody. The flames twisted and coiled like living things, forming shapes—a hawk soaring through the air, a serpent slithering across the sands, a mighty sandstorm swirling in miniature. The spectators clapped and cheered as the display ended, the fire returning to its normal state.
“What was that?” Ashwin asked Kasim, who had taken a seat beside him.
“Tarim’s gift,” Kasim said, nodding toward the young man. “He is a weaver of flame, skilled in elemental magic. Many in the Bariq have such talents.”
“Magic,” Ashwin repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s real.”
Kasim gave him a sidelong glance. “You speak as if this surprises you.”
“It’s... new to me,” Ashwin said cautiously. “Where I come from, things like that don’t exist.”
Kasim studied him for a long moment, then said, “Perhaps you are more of a stranger than I thought.”
Ashwin wanted to ask more, but before he could, another system notification appeared.
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Insight Unlocked: Elemental Magic.
Magic in Ishraal flows through four elements—Fire, Water, Earth, and Air. Some wielders focus on a single element, while others blend their mastery.
Tip: Observing magic users may reveal hidden skills or traits.
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His heart raced. If this system could teach him to wield magic...
But before he could dwell on the idea, Kasim stood and clapped him on the shoulder. “Rest, stranger. Tomorrow, we journey to the city of Shaqar. If you think the desert is harsh, wait until you see the games of men.”
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DREAMS AND WHISPERS
That night, Ashwin lay on a woven mat under the open sky. The stars above were unlike anything he had ever seen—brighter, more numerous, forming constellations he didn’t recognize. The desert’s chill seeped into his bones, but he was too tired to care.
As sleep claimed him, he dreamed.
In his dream, he stood in a vast expanse of shifting sands, the horizon bending and twisting like a mirage. A figure emerged from the haze—a towering form wrapped in shimmering robes that seemed to ripple like water.
“Who are you?” Ashwin asked, his voice echoing.
The figure raised a hand, and the system appeared before him, glowing brighter than ever.
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Welcome, Ashwin. Your journey has only begun.
The Veil of Ishraal is thin, and the sands remember much. Seek the truth hidden beneath the surface. Beware the shadows that walk among men.
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Ashwin reached out, but the figure dissolved into the sands, leaving him alone. He woke with a start, the system’s final words still lingering in his mind.
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A NEW DAY, A NEW PATH
The caravan was already bustling when Ashwin awoke. The sun had barely risen, but the Bariq were preparing for their departure. Kasim approached him as he stretched, offering a waterskin and a piece of flatbread.
“Eat quickly,” Kasim said. “Shaqar is still a day’s journey, and the desert does not wait.”
Ashwin nodded, his mind still swirling with thoughts of his dream. As he followed the caravan out of the oasis, he glanced back at the verdant refuge, knowing it might be a long time before he saw such greenery again.
The journey ahead felt daunting, but for the first time since his arrival, Ashwin felt a flicker of purpose. This world was dangerous and mysterious, but it also held possibilities he could never have imagined.
With every step, he resolved to uncover its secrets—and to carve out a place for himself in the sands of Ishraal.