Never Fire [ONC2020]

Chapter 2: The Shifting Sand

Everything was dry—as lighting the match always made it.

Her once-wet cheeks were bone-dry, her mouth fuzzy. She breathed in dry air, its taste dull and metallic with heat. A sudden warmth muddled her brain, and the dim sea of black concealing her vision started to clear in waves as if Sienna had simply fainted. As if she hadn't left Djianora, her best one, for good and had transported herself to a new world. She sighed a shaky sigh.

Move on like all the rest. You have to.

Blinding sunlight struck her weak eyes that had become accustomed to cloudy, weather-beaten islands over the years. Sienna raised a hand to her forehead, squinting as sparks from the match-lighting settled on the ground and fizzled out.

Desert lands surrounded her. Sand stretched out like an endless ocean, its golden waves cresting far above Sienna's head and undulating slowly from the ever-shifting, balmy wind. She turned around, the sloping dunes suddenly interrupted by three distant spires grazing the empty, blue sky. Civilization. Beginning the trek, each step sinking into the steep, rolling sand, Sienna couldn't stop her mind from whirring or ease its exhaustive racing.

She rifled through those clashing memories of past worlds. Spires usually meant nobility or religion. Isolated civilization typically meant either strict lawfulness or reckless lawlessness—and a culture of honor and shame. Would this world be the same? Would she find herself at the mercy of ruthless, strong-willed desert dwellers like last time she'd landed on sand dunes? Like Djianora, would she have to leave? Kill? Maybe she'd become a priest, or maybe she'd sell matches on the street. Maybe the shining spires that were getting closer were just mirages and they'd ripple out of existence as soon as she'd crest this last dune.

But they didn't. As she stood at the peak of the dune, panting for hot air, she peered at the settlements the spires connected to. Small, adobe. Compared to the spires which bloomed out downwards into what Sienna guessed to be a temple, the dwellings around were nothing but earthen mounds in the oasis that the area was built around.

Trudging closer and stepping into the village, she pushed all thoughts of past desert lands and the governor's blood away. She had to start the automatic routine of observing and adapting to the world she was in.

A market, canopied with colorful coverings faded from the scorching sun, lined what appeared to be a dirt street leading to the temple. Sienna spotted an exchange of a pearl for five hens—a bartering system. Merchants and traders alike wore coverings on their heads and linen robes to protect from the sun, and Sienna quickly pulled the crimson scarf around her neck over her head. Walking around the deserted space behind the bazaar, Sienna snatched a robe off one of the tents and threw it over her body. She smoothed the fabric carefully before strolling calmly into the market.

"Luxurious sandals for your weary feet, traveler?" a merchant called to her, offering a pair of leather sandals. Memories of deceiving deals from a thousand places told Sienna they were poorly made shoes, dried-out leather that would crack from any extended use.