Nomad | Teen Ink

Nomad

June 8, 2023
By teastwood26, Stratham, New Hampshire
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teastwood26, Stratham, New Hampshire
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When I was younger, my best friend was my grandfather. He lived in the same house as my parents and I, and he was powerful. I found that when I asked him, he could get my parents to do anything I wanted. For example, if I wanted hot dogs for dinner, I would have him ask, and they would make them. In return, I listened to his stories. I think I was the only one in the whole world that believed in them. 

He told stories of ancient treasures, monsters that guarded temples, and bandits that chased him wherever he went. They always took place in the same setting, a desert. His daughter, my mom, and everyone else thought he was crazy. Just an old man with some mental issues after a very long life. He told these stories regularly, and it seemed like he had an endless amount of them. 

One night, he said, “The desert is the most desolate place on earth, that’s where you put something that you don’t want to ever be found again.” After hearing this and slowly drifting to sleep I wondered, how many things could be hidden in the desert? 

That morning, when I woke up, my grandfather was gone. 

Soon after, came the calling. My parents repeated his name throughout the house first, then they went out into the neighborhood and yelled some more. I vividly remember my father coming into the house muttering, “Stupid, crazy old man.” No car was gone, and no note or clue was left.  He just disappeared. 

My parents quickly filed a report with the police, which did not help at all as there has been no sign of him since. Five years later and I'm still thinking about him. Maybe because he was my only real friend. Or maybe because his stories gave me hope. Hope for a world that I so desperately wished could provide me an escape. 

My freshman year of high school wasn’t forgiving. No new friends, no new hope for my future. I felt like I was following someone else’s career and not my own. As the year neared its end, I found myself thinking about my grandfather more and more. School was easy for me, but I got overwhelmed. I needed to take a break, no, I needed to stop. I couldn’t keep up with my school work, and I found myself on the edge of crying multiple times, but kids in high school don’t get to show emotion. It would only make people treat me like a child even more, and I wasn’t the type to crumble under pressure. 

I was excited when I found a letter addressed to me when I got home from school. Nobody ever wrote to me. I ripped it open, and inside was a postcard and a small slip of paper that fell out. The postcard showed a beautiful desert with cream-colored sands and dunes that stretched into the distance. An unreal-looking oasis sat in one corner of the card. The turquoise water reflected the sun. At that moment I wanted to jump into the picture, to disappear. Waking from my fantasy, I flipped the card over to see my grandfather’s name as the sender. 

I read his message, “Sometimes things that don’t want to be found are the best ones in the whole world.” 

As I tried to make sense of his message, I looked down at the slip of paper that landed at my feet. It was a plane ticket, and it was scheduled for tomorrow. No further information was given and my only reaction was surprise. I wanted to escape from my exhausting world and run away, but it wasn’t rational. Even if this was a real cry for help from my grandfather, how could I go alone and reach him? I went to my room and looked at my stash of money. I had enough to get an Uber to take me to the airport and buy a plane ticket back home if I needed to, but if it was just a joke my parents would look down on me even more. 

I thought about how strained our relationship had become. As I continued to get older, my parents became more and more involved with whatever I was doing. I wanted them to leave me alone more often than not, but they treated me like a child and pampered me every moment that they could. Whenever I made a mistake, it would give them a reason to keep treating me like a child, and I hated it. All of my friends either treated me like a child or were children as well, and it pissed me off. My grandfather was the only one who ever understood me, and now I became obsessed with the idea of seeing him again. 

The more I thought about how angry I was, the more the plane ride became real until it was set into my mind. I would wake up at three in the morning and catch a ride to the airport. I would leave no note, just like my grandfather. I packed a single hiking backpack full of clothes and necessities. I found my passport, and I readied myself. I didn’t know what awaited me at my destination, but, at this point, I didn’t care what it was. 

I waited all night without sleeping. I slowly left the house on time and set off in the back of an Uber. The night slowly went from quiet to loud as I left my peaceful neighborhood and got closer to the airport. Some people travel for business, or leisure, but I was planning to leave. My nervousness struck as soon as I entered the airport. I had never traveled alone, and I hoped that I could get through everything without question. 

To my surprise, the security was slacking and they didn’t even question what a 15-year old was doing alone at the airport at 4 in the morning. 

As I boarded my flight, I was filled with regret, but this is what I wanted, right? I could go back home now, go back to my parents, my school, my town and still live alright. What am I risking my old life for? A chance to see my grandfather again? A chance to visit the world I wanted so much to believe in? These were chances that I needed to take for the sake of my sanity as well as my own happiness. 

I stowed my bag overhead, as it was too large to fit underneath a seat, and right before I sat down, a tall man wearing black practically shoved me. 

“Sorry” he muttered. He rushed down the lane to his seat near the back of the plane. 

The ride was smooth, but I wished there were movie screens on each seat, so it wasn’t as boring. I got some sleep after takeoff, and it sped up the journey for a while. There were next to no people on the plane because it was traveling to such an obscure location. Even though there were so many empty seats, someone still sat next to me, making me slightly uncomfortable. The woman sitting next to me looked like she was crazy and I didn’t want to speak to her. She had a puffy coat and bulging eyes. I think she got even less sleep than me. 

*The place the plane tickets were for was a town named Al-Jawf located in the Sahara. Before I left home, I had researched the area, and while it was a large enough place, it was the closest town with an airport to the center of the desert. The lady next to me kept fanning herself, as if she couldn’t take off the massive coat that covered her. 

The rest of the plane ride went smoothly, but I couldn’t help but notice that the man in black at the back of the plane was restless. He kept getting up and sitting down, switching seats, it was as if he was so nervous about something. The woman next to me looked out the plane window at some point and noticed the continent of Africa, which was apparently not her destination, at which point she stood up and walked to the pilot’s cabin. One of the staff members stopped her from banging on the cockpit door as she demanded to know why the plane wasn’t going the right way. I didn’t understand how she could have made that big of a mistake and it was making the few other passengers even more restless. My discomfort increased until the woman finally calmed down because the flight crew promised her a seat in first class and compensation for a flight back. 

As the plane neared the runway I looked at the landscape. There was no sign of green anywhere. It was the driest place I had ever seen. The plane descended into a smooth landing next to the shifting sands. 

After arriving in Kufra Airport, a driver in a rusted white jeep worn with sand waved me over. The sun was hotter than I had ever felt, and it would only be moments before I started to get burnt. I walked over to the jeep, and a man who did not look like a local greeted me. I knew he was American as soon as he spoke perfect English to me.

“Get ready for a long ride kid!” He yelled over the airplane’s engine, “It’s going to be a long way to the drop off!” 

“Who are you?” I asked.

“An old friend of your grandfather’s! Get in the car!” I decided to trust this man as I didn’t find any reason not to. The interior of the Jeep was clean, and there was a full water bottle in each cup holder. I think he noticed me eyeing them, and he explained, “You can’t ever have too much, right?” I nodded in agreement and took a sip from the one nearest to me. 

“How do you know my grandfather?” I asked. 

“Everyone where we’re going knows your grandfather,” he said.

I didn’t know how anyone could live in a place like this. Watching the passing land, I realized that we were going in the opposite direction from all civilization. Soon, we were at the point where I could see no sign of humanity, and the only things around us were the desert and the faint path of tire tread in front of us. Soon, we neared a tent, and the Jeep came to a stop. We got out of the car, and a man rushed out of the tent to greet us. 

“This is as far as cars go in the desert.” my driver said to me. “Going any further is a risk because of the sand.  It gets deeper.” 

The man that was stationed at the tent came up to me and shook my hand. He had a large scar over one eye and his muscles were well defined through his shirt. This man didn’t speak after I greeted him. 

The driver explained, “This is Levi, Levi does not speak, and when he does, it is not in any language I know of. He’s going to take you the rest of the way by camel.” 

I was intrigued, I had never ridden a camel before. 

“The rest of the way where?” I asked. My driver looked at me with a confused look. 

“You really don’t know do you?” I shook my head. “My good friend, you’re going to the Haven. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine with Levi, just watch out for the lights.”

At that point he got back in his sand-stained Jeep and drove away. Levi looked at me and pointed to the tent. Inside were two massive travel bags that were stuffed with supplies. Two giant containers holding water were hooked onto the sides of each bag. I couldn’t help but notice a sword in a sheath on the other side of the tent. Levi grabbed a bag and put the other one on my shoulders, adjusting it carefully. The weight of it pulled me backward and I almost fell over. 

We moved out of the tent, and he helped me mount the camel tied to a wooden post. He untied the rope and hopped on as well, taking the reins. The camel slowly lumbered off in one direction without command. It seemed as though it had taken this route many times and was conditioned to the path it had to take. The camel took its time gingerly stepping through the small mounds of windswept sand. The land was so barren, there were no structures or plants, no rocks larger than a finger. Grandfather was right, this land was so desolate, and anything could have been hidden here. 

On the horizon, I started to see something. It looked like a giant wall. At first, I thought it was a hill, then I started to think it was a wall of sand. As we got closer, Levi took out a notebook. He quickly scribbled something onto the first page. It read, “that is the sandstorm that protects the Haven” 

“Protects it from what?” I asked. 

He wrote again, “people who want to find it.” He flipped the page and thought for a bit. “It also protects the Haven from the technology of the modern day.” 

“How so?” I inquired. 

He swiftly responded with, “I don’t know.” 

We slowly inched closer to the sandstorm until we were right next to it. It really did look like a wall, it didn’t move from where it was stationed. Then Levi got off the camel and motioned for me to as well. I slid off, landing on my bottom on the sand. I just remembered how heavy the bag on my back was. Levi wrote something and pointed at the sandstorm. Then he started to dig something out of my bag. What he wrote on the notebook shocked me. 

“Go straight through the sandstorm, I will head back now. Always remember, don’t get stranded in the desert unprepared.” it read. 

“You mean that I have to go through here alone?” I almost shouted. Levi nodded and handed me what he took out of my backpack. He gave me a cover for my face, a pair of goggles, and a lantern. Then he got back on the camel and started to trot away. I looked at the sandstorm. I didn’t know if I could make it, but if this is where my grandfather was, then I would try. I moved forward, into the storm. The backpack weighing down my shaky steps through the perilous sand. 

After only about ten steps into the sandstorm, I realized how sight was a very important part of walking. I found myself struggling to push forward, and I was practically crawling. After a while of clawing through the sand, I noticed some dark lumps through the blowing sand. It turned out they were sandstone bumps, and I rested behind them from the constant pressure of the swirling sand. Drinking water in a sandstorm is also very difficult. Instead of swallowing water, I swallowed a bit of sand. 

It was still hot, even though the sun was no longer shining, because of the protective layers I wore to avoid the pelting of the sand. Levi was right that the sandstorm protected something from modern technology as while struggling, my phone that was turned off in my pocket, fell into the sand and was lost. 

The longer I walked in what I thought was a straight line, the darker it got. Then, I saw a light. A small speck, like a flashlight, or a lantern. I remembered the Jeep driver’s strange warning and wondered if this was one of the “lights” I had to watch out for. It flickered between the flowing grains of sand, and I couldn't make out anything around it. I kept my eye on it while walking my own way and noticed that it was moving. Not towards me, but there was someone or something holding the light. I tried to ignore it but curiosity drew me. I decided to get a closer look and so I slowly started for the light. I made a mental note of the direction I still needed to go, to go through the sandstorm and moved towards the glimmer in the sand. As I got closer, it got brighter and harder to look at. It was so bad to the point where it hurt my eyes, so I decided to give up and go back to my original route. 

After a while of making progress in the correct direction, I looked back at the light but it didn’t seem any further away, and it was still just as bright. This spooked me, and I wondered if I really was making progress or if whatever was holding the light was following me. Either way, I sped up, trying to get out of the sandstorm as fast as possible. Looking back, I then noticed a second light behind me and then a third flickered into view. Freaking out, I tried to run (it was more of a scramble) through the resistance of the sand-filled wind. I gained hope when my surroundings started to get brighter, and a few rays of light appeared. I sprinted, forgetting the weight of the backpack and the sand in my clothes. I wanted to get out now. Looking over my shoulder for a last time, the lights had distanced, but now I could see five of them. Then walking into a wall of light, I was through.

It was so bright that I couldn’t see for a few minutes. I sat in the sand blinking. Then I took off my goggles and looked around. It looked the same as the desert before, but there were more rocks and hills in this area. I wondered if I had gone the wrong way.  This didn’t look like a haven. As my vision adjusted, one of the abstract rocky lumps became two shapes. A mound and a person standing on it. They hopped off and advanced towards me slowly. They stopped a short distance from me, seemed to decide something, and then they drew a sword. Startled, I stood up and started negotiating. 

“Whoa, calm down! I just got here. Is this the Haven?” I got no response. “I don’t have any weapons and I’m not going to hurt you” I followed up. Still no sign of reaction to my obvious passiveness. “Take whatever you want,” I said, slinging down my bag, “just don’t hurt me.” 

They readied themselves for attacking, and I really didn’t want to be a victim. Their flowing clothes whipped at the shining pieces of armor on their body. Their sword was a clean silver, and it was long. They took a silent lunge forward into reaching distance and tried a straight jab at my chest. Now, feeling weightless after taking off the bag, I sidestepped and brought my forearm down on their wrist trying to release the sword. They jumped backward, still firmly gripping their weapon. I had the speed advantage, and I told myself that I could survive this. There was armor in patches all over their body except for on their face. They just had a pair of large goggles and a cover over their mouth and nose. Noticing this flaw, I got into stance and prepared myself for their next swing. This time they swung from a distance, not letting me get closer. I could do nothing but dodge the deadly sharp blade. Grunting they moved in and brought the sword down from above. Almost excited and very ready for them to do this, I moved out of the way but I also ducked low and moved in close. With all of my power, I punched them in the face. This time they dropped their sword. Staggering, they reached for something at their waist, but I followed up with a high kick to their head. My shin connected with their nose, and they fell backward. Swiftly grabbing the knife at their waist and the sword on the ground, I stood ready and waited for them to get back up. 

A few seconds passed, then a minute. Maybe they really were out, I thought. They didn’t get up. I reached and lifted the goggles from their face to get a better look at my attacker. To my surprise, they appeared to be a young girl. I dug around in my bag and found some rope. After tying her hands and feet, I wandered over to the rock she stood on, and, sure enough, I found her belongings. Her backpack was not as large, and it only had enough food for a day in it. This meant that where she came from, and, hopefully, civilization was not that far from here. Still, they could also be dangerous as she was, and I was not going to take that risk yet.

I brought my backpack and dragged her unmoving body over to the rock where I found her backpack. There was a bundle of tinder, wood, and a firestarter in one of my pack’s compartments. As nighttime approached, I got it out, my eyes constantly trained on her. A little bit after complete darkness had come, I lit the fire that I anchored in the sand and started to eat one of the meals that was packed for me. That was when she woke up. I guess she chose the normal thing to do, after grasping her situation, which was screaming, kicking about, and cursing me. I sat still calmly eating my plastic wrapped turkey sandwich across the fire from her. Finally, after realizing that I hadn’t done anything wrong or bad to her, she sat up. I looked at her, and she looked at me. 

“Untie me” she said grimly. 

“Are you going to attack me if I do?” I responded coolly. She turned away, breaking eye contact. Then she shook her head. I got up and cut the ropes off. We got back to our sitting positions. “Did I do something wrong?” I asked. She looked at me confused and I reworded my question. “Why did you attack me?” I asked again. She shrugged, as if I knew her answer. 

Then she said, “you were alone and you had supplies.” 

“And that condones trying to kill me?” I looked at her questioningly, “I had no weapon.”

“All of you have weapons,” she said. 

“All of who?” 

“Your kind. The selfish people who come here to ruin the Haven for their selfish wants. You came here to find the treasure, no?” 

“A sword though? Isn’t that a bit brutal?”

“What else would I use?” she said. I couldn’t tell if she was clueless or making a sick joke.  

I looked at her seriously and said, “I am looking for something but not treasure. I’m looking for my grandfather, Scott.” 

She had a surprised look on her face when she asked, “what’s your name?” 

I responded saying, “Ryan, what’s yours?” She opened her mouth in awe. 

“I’ve heard about you” she said, “you’re his grandson.”

“Do you know my grandfather? Where is he?” I frantically asked.

“Everyone knows your grandfather, even my people. He's the emperor.” 

“The emperor?” 

“He oversees all of the Haven. He’s the reason we can live here. Did he really tell you nothing?” 

I shook my head, then I thought, the stories he told, was he really here before? 

“Anyway, when he was younger and first arrived here through a friend’s guidance, he became a nomad and killed more raiders than any other. He liberated the capital of the Haven, and, because he did so, he was made emperor.”

“Emperor… How do you know all this?” I asked.

“It happened before I was born, so my parents told me the story,” she said.

“Why would he come here? Why would anyone come here?” 

“You should’ve had a guide to tell you these things.” She responded confidently, “They’re very important to know beforehand.” 

“I had a guide, and then he abandoned me before going through the sandstorm.” 

“This is the Haven. As the name suggests, it’s better than the outside world. The Haven is it’s own world. For example, what language do you think we are speaking now?”

“English?” I confusedly responded.

“Wrong.” She said, “I didn't learn English. I’ve lived here all my life and was raised by locals.” 

“Then how can I understand you?” I retorted.

“Right now we are both speaking a language older than time.  The language used in this area when the Haven was created.” 

“Created?” I didn’t believe her. Not speaking English? I knew exactly what I was hearing. The same language my parents and everyone back home spoke to me.

“That’s right, it's almost like a portal into the past.  The only things here are the old languages, old technologies, and old artifacts. The Haven was originally created to protect these things.  The kings and leaders during that time made it their job to collect the most important artifacts from Egypt and its surrounding areas and pool it into one spot, here.” 

“How come nobody knows about this place then, on the global level, I mean?” 

“It’s a closely guarded secret, and even if people speak of this place, who would believe them?” I remembered how my grandfather was treated as insane. Was this secret of the Haven the reason why nobody believed him? There was no reason to check if he was right because it was so inconceivable. “Here” she continued, “there are none of the killing machines I hear about that wreak havoc upon the outside world.”

“Guns?” She nodded.  “Among other things.” I now realized why she had used a sword, and why Levi also had one in his tent. That’s the only thing that you could bring into the Haven. I remembered how in the sandstorm, my phone was lost.  It could have been a coincidence, but if it was true that the Haven was protected, I could now see why my grandfather came here. The girl seemed to notice that I was thinking and laid down in the sand taking a break from our conversation.

“You never told me your name,” I said.

“It’s Sharifa,” she said calmly, as we had finally stopped talking about something serious. We laid in the sand on opposite sides of the campfire looking up at the stars. They were so bright in the desert. 

“Thanks for not killing me Sharifa” I said. 

“I could say the same to you” came the response. 

The previous events had distracted me from taking in the environment, and it was getting cold, very cold. I reached over and dug around in my massive backpack and found a blanket. It was like a never ending treasure trove in there. I remembered that Sharifa’s bag was lightly packed, and I didn't think she was planning on staying the night, so I got out the other blanket and tossed it to her. After thanking me, I rolled over and thought about what would happen in the morning, and like everything else this day brought, I couldn't predict it. I liked this feeling. Everything before, back at home was like a never ending cycle, and I could always see things before they happened. It drove me crazy, being able to foresee things but having no power to change them, but now I couldn’t see what the future held, and I was excited.

I woke up to the usual sweltering heat of the desert. I looked around, Sharifa was gone and so was her bag. I sighed as there was no changing that, and I got up. Then I saw her leaning against the rock.

“Come on,” she said grudgingly. 

“Where are we going?” I asked. 

“You have to get to the capital don’t you? We’re going to go to my village to better equip ourselves, and then we will head there.”

“Are you sure that will be okay?”

“I don’t see why not,” she said. 

I cleared the campsite and picked up my backpack, stuffing the blankets back inside. I took a drink of water and joined Sharifa. She led the way towards the constantly rising sun. As we walked through the now denser sand of the Haven, I noticed that she kept her hand at the sheath on her hip. 

“Is there anything dangerous out here?” I asked.

“Maybe” was the response. 

I looked around at the landscape, which was easy to do in the relatively flat desert. I saw nothing odd or out of place, and no sign of life anywhere. The ridges in the sand carried us on a long journey with no signs of progress. Then Sharifa went to a boulder that was above the average size. She reached for it and moved something on the rock. Then one side of the rock moved away to reveal a staircase leading down. 

Noticing my look of surprise, Sharifa said, “My village is underground to protect it from raiders. You don’t know how many places have been destroyed because of their pointless search for treasure.” 

We walked down the steps in the rock, and soon the sandstone walls got darker and rougher. Seeing a light at the bottom, we slowed as a man in a full suit of armor, as well as a spear, stopped us. 

He saw Sharifa and questioned, “Who’s the outsider?” His voice was gruff and it made me almost jump. 

“He’s a friend” she responded, and followed up saying, “he’s unarmed.” 

The guard was silent for a moment as if he was thinking this through and then he stepped aside. Shafira grabbed my hand and led me into a bright and open cave. There were buildings on the cavern floor as well as etched into the walls. From where I stood, I could see markets, blacksmiths, and hotels. All of the buildings were made of glimmering sandstone and the torches lighting up the area made them look fantastical. Village? This was a whole city. The people were what surprised me the most. There were so many people there. 

We walked down to the main level of the cave and Shafira led me to a two story building. 

“I’m back,” she yelled as we stepped inside. The inside of the house was heavily decorated and beautifully colored rugs and carpets lined the walls and floor. A man came running down the stairs and rushed to hug Sharifa, who looked uncomfortable and annoyed.

“I thought you were dead when you didn’t come back last night! What happened?” The man said hurriedly. Then before she could say anything he looked at me. “Sharifa, what are you doing here with an outsider?”  She looked up at him and opened her mouth to say something but the man kept talking. “Is this the reason why you were away last night? What is the meaning of this?” he said angrily. Sharifa looked more annoyed than ever now, clearly not knowing when to start.

“Will you let me speak?” she said. The man backed off.  “This is Ryan. He’s looking for his grandfather who disappeared named Scott. He knocked me out after I attacked him with my sword. I thought he was a raider.” 

“He looks like one” the man agreed, “So he’s the emperor’s grandson?” 

Sharifa nodded. 

“Interesting. How did you get knocked out? I don’t see a sword on him.” Embarrassed, Sharifa left the room and went upstairs leaving me with the man. “Thank you for keeping my daughter safe,” he said gratefully. He opened a box on a small table in the corner of the room and dug around in it. He came back with 5 gold coins and forced them into my hand. 

When Sharifa came back she was wearing a completely different outfit, it almost looked royal. She grabbed my hand and dragged me outside. Walking down a cobblestone path, we headed towards the center part of the city. On the way, Sharifa explained that her family was on the wealthy side and that her father hated her going out alone. 

“He would hire bodyguards and pay lots of money just so that I could go out and explore. Now, I just sneak out and go off alone. I thought that my sword skills were good enough that if I ever came across an enemy I would be able to defeat them, but you’ve proved my father right.” 

“Where are we going anyway?” I asked.

“I have to get more things for my backpack if we’re going to the capital, and you need some things as well.” 

“So you’re taking me there? Thank you” I said appreciatively. “I don’t think I need more supplies to make the journey, my pack is really full as it is.”

“Maybe so, but you’re missing something crucial.”

“What?” I questioned.

“A sword of course!” she announced excitedly.

We arrived at a small shop with the sound of metal clanking coming from inside. Upon entering, we were greeted by many shining pieces of armor, weaponry and tools. There was a man in the back working at a brightly lit kiln. He was shaping a sword into a correct looking form. Sharifa looked at him expectantly until he stopped what he was doing and came over to greet us. Sharifa put ten gold pieces on the counter, an amount in which the man had obviously never seen, based on his expression, and proceeded to ask what the best sword she could get with that amount was. 

After some thought the blacksmith offered, “The highest quality sword I can make would have to be custom made. I have the materials on hand, so it would only take one night. I will make sure to use the most expensive ore we have, variegated tungsten. This sword will be my only priority today, and I will make it worth your money!” We let the blacksmith examine the gold coins in awe as we walked out.

Next Sharifa led me to a long flat building saying that she should get some more practice with a sword before making the journey. Clearly, she was mad that I had bested her without a weapon, and it would be a good idea for me to get some practice as well. While the exterior of the building was sandstone like the rest, the inside was made of tightly packed straw and twig. An old man greeted us and bowed low at the front door. He paid no attention to Sharifa, but he looked intently at me. Then, he thrust a wooden sword at me and stepped onto the long straw mats in the open building. Sharifa sighed and crossed her arms impatiently. The man motioned for me to join him and in matching his fighting stance I did. I hoped to get great practice and knowledge from this spar. The old man’s eyes were almost shut, as if he wasn’t paying attention. Then he lunged at me. My first reaction was to dodge, but now that I had a sword I could parry his attack. This moment of hesitation, however, caused him to get too close, and I was just able to back up from his swing. Despite his age, the old man was unbelievably fast. He bounded back to the other side of the room and readied himself again. This time, I would not hesitate. Now, knowing the man’s speed and skill, I decided to go at him myself. I swung at him from the right lightly, faking my true motion, and then I redirected the wood over my head and down towards his right leg. The man was caught off guard by this fake swing, but he got out of the way in time. After only backing up a few steps, he sprinted towards me and sliced horizontally at me. I challenged this by hitting his sword perpendicularly with all my strength. We planted our feet and tried to overpower each other. As I assumed, the man was as strong as he was fast and I wouldn’t be able to overpower him. I released the force of my arms and ducked as he swung over me, then I reached up with my sword to his chin and swung. Eyes widening, the man leaned backwards, but he wasn’t fast enough and the tip of my training sword cut his chin. An astonished look grew on the man's face and he put his sword away. 

“Take note of this Sharifa,” he said smugly, “this boy knows how to fight.” I looked at him disappointedly and then he said, “Even though this boy has no strength or skill with swords whatsoever, he was able to best me. Tell me, Sharifa, how is this possible?” 

Looking more annoyed by the second and in a monotone voice Sharifa responded, “He bested you because he had strategy.”  

The man gave a thumbs up and then turned to me and said, “You are very perceptive, boy. Use that to your advantage.” Then he turned back to Sharifa and said, “Your turn.” 

Sharifa’s fight with the man was a lot less entertaining. It included head on, single direction swings with no switch-ups or planning. I could tell why Sharifa could train so much and still be weak. Even though I had no real practice with swords, I used what I knew to make openings and attack. Once Sharifa had been inevitably defeated, everyone bowed and we exited the training facility. 


Next Sharifa took me to a stand with the smell of food coming from it. The man working the stand handed me some kebabs. Sharifa called them Kofta. It was an amazing dish to have after traversing the desert and eating the dried scraps that Levi packed in my backpack. I filled up on water at a well near the center of the city. The well was a crowded area to say the least. 

Next came the market, and Sharifa purchased some things for the journey. Spending one of the gold coins I was given, I also stocked up on travel food and other materials for the trip. After that we went back to Sharifa’s house. The day had gone by so fast that it was supposedly night now. It was strange not to see the sun set, instead the people trusted their clocks to tell when to go to sleep. Sharifa’s dad had already prepared a place for me to sleep which was a bit weird. I was grateful to be able to clean up and sleep in a real bed, though. I was excited to get my sword in the morning and head towards the capital and my grandfather.

I woke up when I heard a knock on the door. It was the blacksmith delivering the freshly made sword. Then I really woke up when Sharifa’s dad started yelling about the cost of the sword. He came to the guest room and brought me the sword, sheath and all. 

Then in an extremely serious tone he said, “I know you two probably plan to leave and I won’t stop you because I can’t stop you, but please make sure that my daughter comes back.” 

I promised him that I would make Sharifa return once I was taken to the capital, and then he left to go to work. 

I gently took the sheath in both hands and drew the blade. The green-tainted blade shimmered in the firelight and it felt weightless in my hands. The various shades of green were patched on the blade like a summer field. I carefully tried to bend the metal, and it did not budge. I looked at the handle, it had a dark colored wood rounding it and an engraving in the middle. The indentations seemed to form a rune that I couldn’t read. Excited, I took a test swing and it swished through the air beautifully.

At that moment Sharifa barged in and said, “What did I miss?” She gave a gasp when her eyes darted to the sword, and she rushed over to inspect it. After a while of appraising the sword she finally decided that we should start our journey. We quickly exited the underground city and started to climb the steps up to where the rock entrance was. Looking back on where I had just been, it was difficult to believe that a whole city could be hidden under sand. 

On the surface, Sharifa got out a compass and a notebook.  She wrote something down, and then under her guidance, I followed her southeast from the city. We could no longer see the sandstorm that was the Haven’s boundary, and I had almost forgotten about how strange the fantasy I was living in was. 

On our everlasting trek, we stopped at a lone dead tree jutting out from the sand. It was the only color other than tan in the dull environment. An anomaly that long ago maybe was green as well as brown. I felt powerful now with the sword slung over my shoulder. I felt like I could take on anything. To entertain myself on the boring, sweat-riddled walk, I drew my sword frequently. Practicing how I would do it in a real battle. Holding it downward, a thirty degree angle from my hip. I pictured the gentle scraping of the tip of my sword on the surface of the sand as I advanced. Picturing the small ripple stream that it could create in the endless sea of sand. I felt like I could finally flourish here, reach my potential, and become renowned. 

All of these hopes and feelings became fiction when we ran into them. We noticed their posse on our left. They were traveling parallel but the opposite direction of us. Ideally Sharifa and I could have hidden behind a rock to not be seen, but there were none around. Sharifa thought we were safe from these supposed raiders when they kept going their own direction, but this thought changed when they redirected their course and headed straight for us. Running from them was futile and so was fighting, there were at least five of them. We figured we could negotiate, as we didn’t have anything of real value on us. As they got closer, I could see their gear, black tinted suits of armor and longswords, the kind that were so heavy you could barely swing them. They looked like the traditional enemy in a crusader period story. As they approached I could see Sharifa start to shiver. We stood still in an effort not to make trouble, or offend them in any way. Once they reached us, one man stepped forward lifting off his metal facemask. He had a smirk on his face, and it wasn’t a friendly one. 

“Are you two lovebirds lost?” He said smugly. I stood my ground.

“No,” I said. The man showed no new emotion and held his hand out.

“Our payment please.” He demanded. Sharifa almost moved, but then she stopped herself. I said nothing and stood deathly still. The man drew and pointed his sword at me in a fraction of a second. “Give me your treasure,” he repeated, “anything of value.” 

“We have nothing of value,” I said confidently. He gave a laugh and the point of his blade touched my chin. 

“That’s not true, kid, give us what you owe!” I pulled out one of the gold coins from my pocket and handed it to his outstretched hand. Angrily, he threw it to the sand, “This won’t do, you’ll have to give me that sword!”

The author's comments:

This is an overview of what happens from chapter 10 until the 2nd to last chapter. This is included due to the book not being completed as it had a time limit. 

(After this conflict is resolved and the sheer amount of treasure that exists in the Haven is experienced by the main character they continue to the capital. There they learn that it was recently raided and after finally reaching his grandfather the main character is compelled to find the person who took the capital’s wealth and get justice for his grandfather who was shot with a gun.)

Finally, I had caught up with him, the man who shot my grandfather at the Capital. He stood quite a distance away from me, but he faced me with a grin. I didn’t know how he had gotten the gun into the Haven, but I had to be the one to set it right. I could see Sharifa being held by her arms in the corner of my right eye. I slowly moved towards the man in the black coat until he drew the sidearm and stopped backing up. The glint of the sun on the metal of the gun was different from the normal sword. It was sharper, more sinister. The six-shooter had a rusted barrel with patches of silver on it. The ivory handle stood out, the only white visible near the man’s black as night outfit. 

“If you take one more step I’ll shoot. Nobody’s going to stop me from getting rich off all of this free gold,” he hollered. He was still about 30 steps away from me and I could tell he was itching to enter the sandstorm behind him. His counterparts entered the wall of sand without him carrying the treasure earned by the old nomads along with my grandfather. As they got submerged between the flying grains of sand, the muscular man holding Sharifa threw her to the sand after hitting the butt of his sword on her neck. I could still picture my grandfather’s scrunched face, struggling to dress his wound. It made me all the more angry. I drew my sword and looked down, I didn’t give this man the pleasure of seeing my pain. I held my faithful weapon thirty degrees from my hip, the tip barely touching the surface of the sand. When I looked up, the man was pointing the gun at me. At this distance he wouldn't be able to hit me, but as I got closer he would get more and more accurate. Realistically, there was no way I could win this. Sharifa’s hair whipped in the wind, striking the sand like a countdown. The wind started to pick up, the sand shifting at our ankles like a spring stream. I felt like flying, my sword carrying me like a sail. With a sudden burst of tailwind, I sprinted towards the man. He was caught off guard, but he kept his aim steady, taking a stance. 

The first shot zipped by my ear. I heard no more sound after that. He shot twice more in a short burst. One bullet hit the sand at my feet sending it flying, and the other grazed my left arm. I could feel no more pain after that. No less determined, I kept running, blocking out the stresses on my body. I couldn’t see the man’s face but I knew he was angry, thirsty for blood. When I looked up, I noticed that I was really close to him. I also noticed that the gun was pointed at my face. This shot would not miss. I raised my blade, its shades of green glowing neon in the light. Then I brought it down, slicing through the air, cutting something that wasn’t there, until it was. My senses returned when the metal of my sword hit something inches from my face. Shock went from the vibrating blade into my arms and made me stagger. Sparks flew from where I had sliced the bullet, and they ignited my passion to push forward. Soon, I was on him.  Another shot fired right next to my ear when I hit the arm holding the gun. All I heard was ringing, and it clouded my judgment. As I swung at the man’s lifeless body, I created shades of red, splattering the surface of the now stagnant sand. I heard one last distinct pop and a tightness in my gut. My beautiful green blade now stained with the opposite color. It took Sharifa to finally pull me off the man. 

Just as I remembered the situation I was in, I ran into the sandstorm, following where I thought the raiders went. I pulled down the goggles over my eyes and bull rushed into the great wall. I stepped carefully, searching for any misplaced shadow or person. Then I saw them, the lights, a cluster surrounding one area. I darted towards the wisps of white knowing the raiders would be surrounded by them. Once I approached the encircled caravan of stolen treasure I raised my sword, but I didn’t need to. The raiders were already on the ground, some being pushed gently by the howling wind. Taking the handle of the sled-like cart the treasure was in I led it back towards the Haven. As I passed the circle of white I looked at one of the lights up close. I could have sworn I saw a face in it as it allowed me to pass. When I re-entered the Haven, weakness flooded me. The gunshot wound in my stomach was now full of sand and I could start to feel the pain coming. Sharifa stood me up when she saw me again and together we muled the cart back to the capital.

I was later told that when we reached the gate I stopped moving. I woke up in the doctor’s chambers with a bandage wrapped multiple times around my upper waist. A brightly lit lantern hung on the ceiling showering me with warmth. When I looked about my surroundings I saw another bed with a person in it. When he looked over at me, I saw my grandfather’s kind face. He had tears in his eyes and his wound was dressed in a similar fashion to mine. After we looked at each other for a while he told me one more story in a shaky voice.

“Eighteen years ago I came to this very place with a band of highly respected people. We called ourselves the Nomads, but there was rarely anything new to explore. When we came across the capital, we expected to be greeted by many delicacies and cultures, but instead we came across many thieves. They didn’t belong there but they greeted us as if they were the true inhabitants of the capital. We revelled at the hordes of gold and trinkets that they had piled up in the palace. They even offered us a place among them, a share of their gold. We were about to accept their offering when Ahmed, the first Nomad, snuck into the dungeons. He found thousands of beaten, malnourished people locked up there, the true citizens of the capital. And so, the seven of us launched a surprise attack at the evildoers. The battle went down in history throughout the Haven. After it was over, only Ahmed and I remained from the chaos. The citizens, once released, praised us like kings. The only raider left alive from the incident who refused to attack us with a sword was held on trial by the citizens. I wanted to let them have their justice and so I let them do what they wanted. This man that they let go was the same man that shot me yesterday. Finding no way to continue the legacy of the Nomads with just the two of us, Ahmed decided to leave and go back to his family. I wanted to as well for so long, but for my three years of ruling I decided to stay. When I heard news of my grandson being born, I finally made the choice to join my daughter and be part of the family. I am glad that you came to see me grandson, you have sustained the purpose of the Haven even longer.” 

The closer I looked at my grandfather the less like a fighter he looked. He looked like a wise leader, and I was glad he would continue to do just that. I fumbled around with my hands thinking about my journey. I felt leather in one hand and my grandfather reached out to me. “Show me that.” He said hopefully. I handed him the clean sword that lay on the bed with me. He unsheathed it and looked it up and down. At last his eyes went to the engraving in the handle. 

“What does it say?” I asked.

“It says Nomad.”



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