The Last I Remembered

Sandstorm

Through more tunnels and over more bridges our journey went. Eventually, about a day layer, we felt the temperature rise, as did the humidity. Before long, we were crossing between stinking, decaying trees and over pools of rotting, fetid matter. We were close to the sea, Jada mentioned. This was the gross and dank estuary of the river Shla'agon, forming the swamps of the same name. Everywhere were clouds of flies and mosquitoes, swarming even towards the train, which was barreling onwards at high speeds. Seagulls, frogs and other larger animals feasted on the endless legions of insects. "This is actually one of the very few areas on this world not colonized by civilization," Jada remarked, "apart from the railway line, which only barely crosses into the Shla'agon swamps, noone lives here."

Just as she was telling me this, we were about to leave that awful part of the world behind and entered more wholesome territories. Hurrying out of the swamps, we climbed some small hills and turned slightly, back towards the sea. The Center Sea, aptly named for its location, was a sight to behold, especially after crossing the swamps. The fresh, salty breeze removed the unlikeable smell of rot and decay. Riding the safe line between the white-sand beaches and olive plantations, we steamed ever onwards. The salty sea air started to mix with the perfume of lavender and got everyone in a merry mood.

At one point, about three days after we left Iyanes, we felt the air get drier again. Drier and hotter. "Here comes the desert," Jada informed me. Lo and behold, as we crossed another few mountains, we were driving through the sand. While the previous legs of the journey had been boring and monotonous, this one held a lot of changes, from the freezing mountains, to the murky swamp, to the olive-covered seaside, to now, the desert. Before long, the train stopped at a repair center. The front needed something to shove the sand off of the tracks with. After this, the ride continued.

We sped on and on, crossing the kilometres towards Achmereg, when suddenly there was report of a sandstorm. As the train came to an abrupt stop, we could see the horizon moving forward. A few hostesses were sent out to let all passengers know that the train should be able to withstand the wind and sands, but just in case, we had to prepare. We pulled a cover over our beds, which doubled as seating space during the day, then applied some sort of metal protection to the glass windows, to prevent them from breaking. Our space was in one of the last carriages of the train, so we weren't surprised that, when the lady had just left, the train started to shake a bit from the winds. We hid under the sheet that we pulled over our beds and hoped for the best.

Soon, the train was shaking violently in the stormy winds. Sand barreling against the windows prevented any form of speech. Then we heard a window shatter. It must've been very close to us, so Jada and I decided to see if everyone was okay. They were not.

It was a bloodbath, some seven passengers had been lying on the ground, without the protective sheet and with nothing covering the windows. They were cut by thousands of tiny shards of glass and being thrown around by the wind, getting bruised all over in the process. The sand streaming across their faces and bodies started to leave even more cuts, while those that instinctively tried to scream were choked to death by the sand filling up their mouths and throats. We could do nothing as they had locked their small compartment from the inside. I was watching, stupefied at what had happened, when Jada pulled on my arm and led me back to our space. I followed her mindlessly, shocked at the sight.

A few hours later, both me and the storm had calmed down, and it was getting dug out again. The bodies were found and prepared for a proper burial. After a last check if the engine, the train came to life again and we continued onwards to Achmereg, which we reached a couple of days later.