I. The Rescue

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Only the purest of fires burned without smoke, without ash, without spark. Vassa Ithrennyn sat with her back against a swaying palm, stomach full for the first time in a long time, resting in the cool comfort of the oasis's shade. The flames danced at her feet as the light of the sun slipped behind the horizon, ghosting across the bare stones, swirling and radiating heat that kept the approaching chill at bay. A desert at night was not as warm as she had once assumed in her own homeland, several years and several thousand miles ago. Nothing stopped the wind except the oases, those chilled by the cool waters that she was immensely grateful for.

Were it not for her own talents and Samir's amazing sense of self preservation, she would have died in the desert long ago.

As if sensing her thought towards him, the camel in question huffed and tugged experimentally at his lead. He didn't want to escape, but he did want to savage the dates growing on the palms. Currently he was tied where he could only browse on the grasses and drink the crystalline fresh waters.

"Do not be a glutton," she advised her sole companion in her native tongue, lips tugging into something approaching a smile behind the black silk that covered the lower half of her face, from the bridge of her nose down. "You would not care for it."

Samir gave her a look that could only be called challenging. In this matter, she knew he had a diametrically opposed opinion. She hadn't decided if she believed that he was truly an intelligent animal, but he was stubborn and expressive, more so than any horse she had ever known. He also possessed a low, yet most impressive cunning. She'd picked up the remains of her knots on his lead more than once, somehow untied so he could go about his gluttonous work masticating the flora. His primary defense when she intercepted was to spit wildly, but he seldom did it directly at her after nearly inciting a wrath worthy of the ancients when he landed a glob all down the front of her shirt on their first day alone in the desert.

Still, for all his annoying qualities, Vassa was pleased to know him. Even the smell had faded, though that was more because her nose had become used to him than anything else. She knew it probably lingered distressingly on herself, despite cleaning up as much as she could. What she needed was a proper heated bath with soaps and perfumes. It would never happen, but she could delight in the last vestiges of memories of otherwise forgotten luxuries.

"Would you listen better if I spoke the tongue of the men who raised you?" Vassa said, stirring the fire with a long, delicate finger slowly swirling above it.. The flames flickered and danced, offering their warmth and threatening their bite. The stripes of burn scars across her knuckles and palms shone in the amber light. These reminders of the abuse no longer troubled her as they once had. That was a violent revulsion and self-loathing reserved for other wounds. It was easier in seclusion to push back her own insecurities, to tend to her damage.

Samir at least didn't care what stones she carried upon her soul, ignorant of the strain of it all, bearing down the weight. The camel cared about almost nothing except where his next meal was coming from. It was a refreshingly pragmatic trait that she found she appreciated more and more as time went by. It made her regret on some level that he would die long before her, if by age if nothing else.

Vassa gave it no thought until she heard riders. On horseback, even, which meant she was far closer to a settlement than she'd realized. Horses needed water more than camels did, after all.

She smoothed her hand over the low flame. "Sleep," she whispered gently, her touch extinguishing the fire. There was no avoiding the twinge of sorrow in her chest. If a fire was to die, she would have preferred it to be on the fire's own terms. It felt cruel to cut short the life of elemental essence. She glanced up at Samir and said more firmly, "Stay."

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