Winds battered the deserted landscape, raising small scale storms along the horizon under the clear sky. Keela adjusted her scarf over her face, being careful to avoid inhaling sand. She was following Bertaut, trekking through the desert under the scalding sun, hoping to arrive sooner than later. The sandy dunes sprawled for what seemed like forever, stretching over the horizon in all directions.

“Couldn’t we have gone along the forest?” she asked, strutting up to Bertaut, nearly losing her footing on the slope of the dune.

“Unfortunately for both of us, no one can really fly so it’s not possible to do that”, he replied, getting to the top of the dune.

“What do you mean?”

“See for yourself.”

Keela scaled the top of the dune, helping herself up by grabbing Bertaut’s extended hand. He pulled her up and crossed his arms, looking over the horizon. Keela followed his gaze, only to gasp in surprise. Before her, a few kilometers away, sat a gaping canyon, easily 400 paces wide. It tore the landscape, stretching from one side to the other like a scar. On the other side was a flourishing forest, trees stretching out far up cliff faces. A few waterfalls punctured the cliff side, pouring water down, some of it falling in the ravine.

“That’s… Beautiful yet terrifying”, said Keela, slightly dumbfounded.

“Everyone reacts the same”, replied Bertaut, starting to head down the dune.

Keela followed suit, struggling to take her eyes off the ravine. It didn’t look natural, blemishing the landscape, making a stark limit to the desert. The two of them progressed for a while, making small talk and keeping a steady pace. After half an hour, they reached the ravine. Up close, it was even scarier to look at. Jagged pillars of rock littered the center, making a fall into it deadly without a doubt. It stretched wide as far as the eye could see and no way to cross it was visible except for a small suspension bridge they had stopped next to, likely Bertaut’s idea. The small wooden bridge swayed in the dusty winds, creaking painfully as the ropes that held it pulled taut.

“I have a bad feeling about this. Is there no other way across?” asked Keela, a pearl of cold sweat running down her forehead.

“Not that I know of”, he replied, hiding his own unease.

Keela stepped to the bridge slowly and with extreme care. Looking down on the swaying dusty old cracked planks did not feel her with confidence. She eyed Bertaut nervously and stepped aside.

“You first, I’ll stay close by”, she said, hiding her shaking hands behind her back.

An intense sense of foreboding was gliding over her that she couldn’t shake off. But they both had to cross one way or another. Bertaut shrugged and went first, followed closely by Keela. She wasn’t usually afraid of heights but this time was different. There was a strong feeling of dread. Something bad was about to happen but she couldn’t tell what. Her eyes darted around. There was no escape from the bridge; a straight narrow line from one side to the other. She swallowed nervously and mustered up the courage to go forward.

Behind them, somewhere on top of a dune, a man rose up from the sand, his full camouflage having hidden him perfectly. He picked up his bow and aimed steadily, focusing the magic in the string to give it maximum power. The poison coated arrow nocked in his bow dripped on the sand before flying at full speed. Neither of them saw it coming. Bertaut’s leg collapsed at the arrow shattered his knee cap, lodging itself firmly in the middle of it. Four more soldiers left their hiding spots, taking position on either side of the bridge. Bertaut groaned in pain and looked at either side with a sigh.

“You know we can’t let her back Bertaut”, said one of the men, pulling out a dagger.

“I was hoping you’d be over this”, replied the concerned, sweating from the pain and the poison slowly making its way in his veins.

He tried to use magic to slow down the poison but as he tried to pull from the source of magic at the core of his body, the well was shut. Barred and forbidden, refused by the poison.

“You thought of everything…” he said, his vision starting to blur.

“We had the best teacher”, replied the man, smiling.

“I’m proud of you all…”

As that last sentence escaped his lips, he passed out, falling backwards, getting caught by Keela at the last second. The soldiers smiled and all of them took daggers to the ropes of the bridge. Keela tried to scream but it got caught in her throat. The fear quickly subsided, replaced by an intense sense of survival and rage. Lightning arced from her legs onto the bridge that had started to fall. As she channeled more and more power to her senses and muscles, time seemed to almost slow down. She was angry beyond reasoning at this point. The bridge fell quickly towards the bottom of the ravine but she started running. Time wasn’t an issue. She ran, her eyes glowing; maybe as a side effect from the magic, maybe from the anger. She skipped from plank to plank, holding Bertaut in her arms. Leaving a trail of lightning behind her, she ran faster than she fell, running past the soldiers and into the forest. Instinct had kicked in and she knew where to go. The more she ran, the harder it got to keep going. Everything ached and she finally stopped, tumbling down in the sand at full speed, rolling over almost fifty meters. From the soldiers’ perspective, she was gone and that was left was the thunderclap.

She got herself back up painfully, grabbing Bertaut’s unconscious body with her. Before her was the waterfall she had seen. She struggled to it, pressing the rock where she remembered it. The door showed itself, exactly as she had seen. She knocked on it and it opened slowly. Inside, she was greeted by pikes pointed at her throat, held by six elven guards. Still running on instinct, she stood tall and pulled down her scarf, and spoke words that made sense to her.

“My name is Kalianore, heir to the throne. I beg of you, save him.”

The pikes lowered and a few whispers went about between the guards. But it was the last she had in her. She fell to the floor, unconscious. When they took off her scarf to get a good look at her, half of her hair had gone white from the tips.