The constant subtle hiss of the shifting sands, the midday heat so great it sunk into even his bones, but comfortably. At night the stars sparkled close enough to distinguish their colors, and finding the hidden pockets of green and blue among the unrelenting brown felt like a triumph. The constant wind created a never settling cloud of sand-dust, causing the nomadic denizens of the Desert to all wear hoods and masks. One only removed the protective �ubrus� once one was safely inside a tent. And the tents of the Ryzians were palaces of silk and canvas.
But none of this amazing hidden world did the most to make him feel as if he was suited to this environment. It was the overweening silence of the place. The loudest sounds came from the sands. The people of the Desert spoke quietly; their horses trained not to whinny. Their dogs even fought silently.
And after years of bickering, speeches, explosions, and havoc, having the quiet room to think felt like a blessing.
He had met Sadiin al Ryzia in Elmekia, the empire of the Demon Peninsula that most closely bordered the desert. Sadiin, upon seeing his hood and cloak, had immediately hailed him as �brother�. Even when proved that he was no brother to Sadiin�s people, the nomadic trader had shrugged with the wry fatalism of his people, and invited this new-made brother into the sands.
Now, a month after that fortuitous meeting, Zelgadis stood on the edge of a Ryzian oasis at sunset and watched the first flashing stars appear. A steady shushing sound from behind alerted him to Sadiin�s approach.
�Tomorrow, my brother, we will swing southward, and then east and north again to home.�
Zelgadis had become accustomed enough to the Ryzian�s unique accent that he could even detect the anticipation in Sadin�s voice.
�Why not just continue east? It would be the fast route, wouldn�t it?� Zelgadis asked.
Sadiin�s eyes above his facemask wrinkled, and Zelgadis knew the man was grinning. �Ah, little brother, you do not yet know the ways of the desert!� He gestured due east. �That way lies Death, and worse.�
�How so?�
�Not being so brave a man as some, I have never traveled east from this place, only south, but from my father�s father�s father�s time, and older, we are told to never pass that way. There, I am told, lies the citadel of the greatest of the Malifiqi.�
�What are Malifiqi? Another tribe?�
�No, not men such as we. You would say�.hum�.Mazoku?�
Zelgadis immediately stared to the east. Directly east. Sadiin must be referring to the citadel of Hellmaster Phibbrizo. The Mazoku lords were each associated with some sort of territory, with the exception of Gaav, who�s own unique issues after the Kouma Wars interfered with his duties, so to speak. But the Desert of Destruction belongs to Hellmaster, the first and most evil of all the Demon lords.
Now that Hellmaster was gone, destroyed by the Lord of Nightmare's Herself, what might be found hidden in his ancient keep?
Sadiin peered at Zelgadis's face. "Ah, my friend, I see I have set your feet on the path to Death. Please, forget such things, and ride with us to our home. You will see feasting and joy there! My wives will care for you, and you shall havr concubines and wine and song and all manner of pleasures!" Sadiin flung his arm around Zelgadis's shoulder. "Come! We will eat this evening with my cousin Ahman, and perhaps, he will gift you with his sister on our return home!" Laughing, he drew Zelgadis away from the dunes, back to the camp in the bowl of the oasis. The Ryzian men thought of only two things, profit and pleasure. In their minds, greatness of one lead to the greatness of the other, and Zelgadis's assistance on the journey so far had
won him many friends in the caravan. Swathed from head to toe in robes and scarves themselves, with skin ravaged from sands and sun, they found his appearance unremarkable. The difference between the insular yet jovial and accepting attitudes of the Ryzia made a soothing change from the hostility and fear that surrounded Zelgadis most of his life. Part of him wanted to just stay with the Ryzians, accept their ways and lifestyle, live in a silken palace of a tent and enjoy life. But whenever he imagined it....... one key thing was missing, and without that one element in his life, he knew that any happiness he found would be pale and wan in comparison.
Hours later, after a meal of goat meat, cheese, dates, and all manner of desert fodder, and many skins of wine, Zelgadis still quietly stared to the east out the doorway of the tent. Beside him, Sadiin belched contentedly and grinned at him.
"You see? Stay, become brother to me and mine. Your powers would command respect in my home, and all manner of delights would be yours for the taking." He leaned over and in a low voice said, "We could even find you a lovely merry wife to brighten that long face of yours!" Laughing at Zelgadis's expression, he continued "For what man can be happy without a soft inviting woman to cool his fires, eh?"
"No." Zelgadis's rejection was as cold as the desert night wind.
Dropping his jovial attitude, Sadiin studied him. "Ah. I see. And so we come to the point of your journies, the reason for this quest of yours." He waited, but Zelgadis said nothing. Lifting a skin of wine, Sadiin poured for them both. "She is beautiful, then?"
Accepting the cup, Zelgadis's gaze returned to the desert. "Yes." His tone filled with a mixture of regret, longing, and hope.
"Ah. Well, they say the fire of love burns a man so, he will go to the ends of the earth to quench it."
A brow raised, Zelgadis asked, "So I am that transparant?"
Chuckling, Sadiin replied, "Only if one knows what to look for. Little brother, you are more like us than you think. Very well, then - complete your quest, claim your love, and return to us here in the Desert. You can swath your love in silk and jewels!"
"She has no need of silk and jewels. Besides, i think your desert has enough fire in it."
Barking with laughter, Sadiin called to the other men still awake. "Hear! He makes a joke!" Some of the others chuckled as well, smiling at Zelgadis with the sort of grin that comrades everywhere share.
"Seriously, my friend." Sadiin captured Zelgadis's eyes. "Do not leave us to go east. I would have you as a guest in my home, not a memory to mourn." The rare seriousness of Sadiin's words worried Zelgadis a little, but the Ryzian would not elaborate on the dangers to the east.
Dawn found the camp bustling to get underway. The trip to Elmikia, rare for these desert nomads, had been unusually profitable. Sadiin had explained that the journey was long for them. Already, Zelgadis had been a month in their company. Normally, they traded with the lands outside the barrier, but with it's lifting, the Ryzia had rediscovered trade routes long unused, and so begun the cross-desert treks again.
The caravan moved out only an hour after sunrise, but one person did not go with them. Standing on the verge of the oasis, Zelgadis raised his arm in one last farewell as Sadiin and his people travelled south. Swathed in his cloak, mask up against the dust, he himself appeared a Ryzian trader, left behind. But the choise was his, and as the caravan wound south amongst the desert dunes, Zelgadis faced east and began the next phase of his journey.
Back to Semper Slayers