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Description
I know, I know this time,
no turning back, we're closing in.
I know, I know this life, was never meant for living in.
We tried, but we couldn't break this curse.
I get the feeling it's much worse
when there's no demons left to fend,
you'll be seeing me again.

Riverboat Gamblers – “Curse of the Ivory Coast”

Chapter One - Cursed

The last beams of daylight struck Craku’s clear hazel eyes before disappearing from the desert overview, leaving it exposed to algid grasp of night. He looked at the desolate city below him in contempt. He was through with being constrained by high rise walls and adobe bricks. From this moment on, he had no obligations but those to himself.
The sun was moving beyond the horizon, out of his sight. It was a sunset that marked the end of the day, as well as the end of all the life Craku had ever known.
For what would not be the last time, Craku turned his back on the city he had called home – which had been all the home he had known in his ten years of life.
His wool traveling cloak billowed in the frigid night breeze. His face was numb and he had almost entirely lost feeling in his fingers. He knew he would have a long, arduous evening ahead of him. Even so, he could never have predicted how tough a night it would be.
He could hear his name being called. He looked in the direction the cry had come from. He could just barely make out the form of his younger brother, Falshyo, running up a sand dune towards him. Craku tried to back away as his brother closed in, but his sandal got caught on a stone and he tumbled backwards.
“Craku!” Falshyo’s eyes were brimming with tears. He jumped onto Craku and held onto his legs.
Craku tried to shake his brother off, but he was clinging too hard, “Get off me, Fal! I’m getting out of this place, and you’re not stopping me.”
Falshyo looked at him, teary-eyed, for what seemed like the longest time until finally speaking, “I’m coming with!” He sobbed at Craku.
Craku was speechless. His brother had no reason to leave, his brother’s life here was perfect. In fact, his brother’s life was what he wanted his own to be like. Their parents spoiled him, and he had so many friends – Craku was jealous of him. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Falshyo had been a brat, but he was completely innocent. Falshyo wasn’t miserable like he was. The only reason Falshyo would have wanted to leave was because of…him. His little brother looked up to him, and it drove Craku out of his mind trying to understand why.
Falshyo had loosened his grip, so Craku got up and started walking westward on the barren desert path. Falshyo caught up to him and trailed at his heels. Craku turned around and kneeled before his brother. Although Craku was only two years older he still was much taller than Falshyo. Craku took off his shirt and wiped Falshyo’s face with it. So much for not worrying about other obligations. “You ready to go?” Craku asked.
Falshyo started grinning like mad and hopping up and down, “Yeah! Yay!” He seemed so happy. It made no sense to Craku. But he figured it didn’t matter as long as Fal was happy.
He would regret his decision to take his brother along for years to come.
They spent hours walking west to the sea, laughing and playing. Maybe they weren’t making good time, but they were happy as ever. Before long, Craku noticed something dark over on one of the dunes farther off. A jackal!
“Falshyo, lets keep going.” Craku hurried his brother, but tried not to sound worried.
“But I’m tired…” Falshyo complained.
“You’ll be alright.” He reassured his brother.
Craku took off at a relatively fast pace, and Falshyo could feel the tension, “Is everything okay?” He asked.
Craku saw that his brother was worried, as well, “Yeah, everything’s fine. Let’s go.” He couldn’t hide that he was afraid for much longer. He had been watching the jackal. It had been coming closer, trying not to be seen. Craku then noticed that there were more of them. It looked to him like there were three or four. He turned to his brother, and to his horror, there stood a jackal, right behind them on the path. Its black coat was glistening in the starlight. Before Craku could react, before he could speak, the jackal lunged at Falshyo. It sunk its teeth into Fal’s shoulder.
Falshyo shrieked. His shriek cut into Craku like hot knives. He had failed. He should have been more careful. He should have known something like this would happen if he let Fal come with. He wished he had never left. Sure, he was miserable back home, but it didn’t come close to this torture. He had let Falshyo down.
Another jackal came up from behind Craku and tore at his hand with its jagged teeth. Craku snapped back to reality. His left, uninjured hand flew to the dagger on his belt. In one more sweeping motion, he swung the dagger around and caught the jackal in the throat. Blood spattered in his face. The jackal dropped dead onto the sand.
Craku faced the remaining jackals. There were four more. He noticed that Falshyo had more bite wounds on him, and one of the jackals was trying to drag him away.
“Bastard!” Craku spat as he lunged at the creature. The jackal yelped and backed away, dropping Falshyo. He had only grazed its leg, but the thrust had the desired effect.
Craku tried to remember the fighting lessons he had learned from his one of his friends who had been part of the castle guard. “The hand is faster than the eye”. This one lesson stood out from all the others. He hadn’t believed it at first, either. That is, until he got a black eye later that month. That phrase separated itself from all the other lessons for some reason. Maybe it just intrigued him, but he hoped it was at least a little more than that.
Craku and the jackal circled each other, both waiting for the moment they would make their move. Craku’s foot brushed up against a pointed rock. A smile spread across his face.
In a flash of sand, Craku kicked the rock at the jackal’s form. Before the rock even struck, Craku lunged at the creature once more. The stone made contact with the jackal’s leg and the beast flinched. However, Craku missed the jackal’s head with his knife and instead left a long gash on its side. The beast wasted no time and jumped on him while his balance was off. They tumbled down the side of a dune and landed on the bank of a river. The other jackals had followed them anxiously, trying to decide whether or not they should join the fray. The beast he was fighting with was obviously the leader. Looking at his empty hands, Craku realized that he had dropped his dagger.
The jackal was on top of him again now. His vision was starting to go blurry from the mixture of blood, sand, and the heat of battle. The jackal sunk its teeth into Craku’s shoulder. He cried out in agony. He had forsaken all means of skillful combat and was flailing his arms and kicking madly. Nonetheless, the jackal wouldn’t let go, and the more he flailed, the more his wound burned.
In one final attempt, Craku shot his hand at the creature’s throat. He made contact and the beast let go of his shoulder. His other hand shot up, and the jackal was in a stranglehold. He was going to finish this. Now.
In one fluid movement, Craku brought one hand back and positioned the other right above the jackal’s neck. Then his arm flew at the creature, hitting it squarely in the neck. A sharp crack resounded and the jackal’s body slumped to the ground.
Craku looked at the other jackals, which were already retreating down along the riverside. Craku felt exhausted and hot blood was running down his side, but he had to get back to Falshyo. He took a few uneasy steps, tripped over himself and felt the ground rushed up to meet him.
Visions of his brother’s bloody corpse lying in the sand flashed before him. Jackals were tearing at Falshyo’s limp form. He could see his brother’s hollow gaze looking straight at him, but not directed towards him; it was a cold stare of death. He could feel the jackals tearing into his flesh once again, reopening his wounds.

Craku woke in a fit and was gasping for breath. Then, as he realized where he was, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He was in his own home, in his own bed. He felt his shoulder that had been burning moments before. Nothing. No bite wounds, no blood, nothing. Although he wasn’t injured, his torso was slick with sweat, and he was completely sapped of energy.
He had been having that same nightmare for the past six years, ever since it had happened. He was reliving his darkest moment every night as he lay down to sleep. It was his punishment – his curse – for letting his brother die. He could never outlive that memory. The knowledge that his brother’s death was on his hands would haunt him forever.
After he had regained his sanity, Craku swung himself out of bed and threw on some ragged clothes. He looked out of the window to judge the time. He gasped as he saw that the sun was high in the sky already. It was close to midday!
Craku heard his father bark something at him as he rushed out of the door. He didn’t care much, being already late for his rendezvous with Rynn at her family’s workshop. He should have known that he would wake up at noon like he did, the excitement that he was going to help at the glassblowing workshop the next day kept him up thinking for hours.
Craku ducked and dodged through the crowd of people, carts, and animals bustling this way and that in the street. This was the busy season for merchants and craftsmen, because now was when all the traders and travelers passed through. Being the capital city of the desert kingdom Casenh, Dylt had the most people visiting. Many visitors were intrigued by glass ornaments and jewelry, as glass was rare in other areas of the continent. Craku figured that this was why he was asked to help at the workshop with Rynn and her parents, so they could keep up with business. He didn’t mind, Rynn was good company. He got along with her better than almost anyone else.
As Craku’s mind wandered to Rynn, he didn’t notice a girl jump out of nowhere until it was too late. She collided into him, sending him flying backwards while she fell onto the ground face first. Craku landed in something he really hoped was mud; still too dazed and surprised to move. His head was spinning. The girl was up on her feet in an instant, though, and she was fuming. Craku was sure she was going to explode, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the look of confusion and rage on her face. Along with her copper hair that was now sticking out in every direction and her dirt covered dress, she looked ridiculous.
“What did you do that for?!” She screeched at him, “You stupid kid! Watch where you’re going!”
Craku was normally a reasonable person, he liked to think. But what she said and the way she said it set him off, “Kid?! You’re not more than a few years older than me, at most!” He yelled back. Craku was sixteen, and he hated being called a kid.
The girl’s face contorted. She opened her mouth to yell something else at him, but she held her tongue. After a few seconds she regained her calm composure, “I’m not going to bother with the likes of you. You can just sit there in your puddle of…ugh. For your sake, I really hope that’s mud. Small chance of that, though.” She giggled and strode past him like nothing had happened.
As Craku got up he noticed the amount of people staring at him. He could feel the blood rushing to his face, flushing it a bright shade of red. He took off and stole towards the alley that provided a shortcut to the workshop. Within a few minutes the glass workshop was in view, along with Rynn, who was outside waiting for him. Her short, black hair was being whipped around by the wind. She stifled laughter as he approached, “I was going to scold you for being late, but it looks like you’ve had enough punishment already.” She said when he got close.
Craku just grunted and followed her into the shop. Everything in the room stopped as he came in. Rynn’s father, Asch, stopped spinning the metal rod with molten glass on the end and the glass started to slump. Craku pointed to the glass just as it started to fall to the ground. Everyone in the room yelped as it hit the floor. “I’m so sorry! I’ll clean it up!” Craku grabbed a metal dustpan and started towards the molten glob.
“No, it’s alright. I’ll clean it up while you go change. Teri, get Craku an apron.” Asch had a very hardened and rough mien, much like a blacksmith, but his voice was much more high-pitched than one would expect.
Rynn’s mother handed Craku a blacksmithing apron and smiled at him. He returned the smile before retreating to the back room to change.
The apron was a little big on him, but strangely comfortable. It didn’t feel like a regular blacksmithing apron. “Um…What’s this made out of?” He asked.
Asch’s eyes lit up, “You see, last year about this time I ran into a merchant who was selling trade supplies. I picked up one of these and he said to me, ‘You have an eye for quality merchandise. Those are special enchanted heat-proof aprons.’ Ha! If the blacksmith had been there he would have offered twice what I paid, but I got them all at bargain price!” In the background you could see Teri and Rynn rolling their eyes. They had probably heard this before.
They got to work immediately. Craku and Rynn took turns between working the bellows and heating iron rods and such. They were only providing support, so that Asch could give his full attention to his art. Teri often helped Asch by adding metal shards to the glass, giving the glass a different color. The glass art never ceased to amaze Craku.

They spent the rest of the day working on various requests by high paying customers. Some people stopped by to browse their display of glass vases, some to watch them work, and others still came to pick up special orders. Craku liked it when people watched them work. He felt inspired to do better. At one point there was even a small crowd who were all watching intently. Craku started doing everything in an exaggerated way to get the peoples’ attention. It wasn’t long after that when Rynn and her parents joined in and it turned into as much a theatrical performance as it was glass-blowing demonstration.
When it was time to close up, Craku changed back into his clothes, which had been hung up outside so they could dry off, while the others cleaned up the shop. Craku stood outside, looking up at the sky. The moon and stars illuminated everything. It was so peaceful now that the bustle had died down, along with the temperature, which had been scorching earlier that day.
“It’s so amazing.” Rynn was standing beside him. Craku looked at her. The moonlight reflected off her blue eyes, making them light up like tiny stars. Rynn suddenly threw her arms around him and whispered, “Good night.”
He was so shocked by her embrace that it was the best he could manage to hug her back and force the words, “Good night.”
“Rynn! Come on! We have to go!” Asch’s words cut through the silence.
She stepped back, moonlight still in her eyes. She smiled at him once more before darting away.

Craku decided against sleeping at home that night. He was going to crash at the guard barracks tonight. No one there ever cared. Sometimes he would even help keep watch.
Most of the guards were much older than him, but there were a few that were in their twenties. Craku had become good friends with one guard named Jek. Jek was twenty-one, easily the youngest guard there. Craku could relate to him, and Jek often told stories of the places he’d been while his regiment had been sent to ward off bandits or patrol the borders. Jek had once told him about when he was sent far north to scout for invading armies. There had been strange white stuff on the ground and it was falling from the sky like rain. Jek had said it was called snow. Craku wanted to see snow once, if only once. And mountains! Jek had told him about giant hills that had pointed tops. Jek had called them mountains. Craku often looked north to see if he could catch a glimpse of these massive structures.
Tonight he had no intention of sharing stories with Jek. He just wanted to rest. Maybe they would talk some, but he was too tired to do more than that.
Craku turned the corner and walked down the main road that ran through the city. The guard barracks was close to the castle, and the great fortress loomed over him as he neared the guard quarters. The castle itself was ancient. It was said that it was the oldest standing structure in Casenh, and perhaps all of Atikara. The bastion stood as a testament to Casenh’s power and the longevity of its empire.
Craku walked up to the door to the barracks. He opened the door and walked in. Everyone there knew him. They wouldn’t care if he walked in. Craku did it all the time. Some of the guards greeted him as he came in. He returned their greeting. He staggered into the sleeping quarters and threw himself on one of the many beds.
“Sleepy?” He recognized Jek’s cheerful voice.
Craku moaned in response. Jek just laughed at him. Craku sat up in the bed, “I was thinking about joining the guard.” He said.
This had taken Jek by surprise, “Have you talked to your father about it?” He questioned.
He hadn’t, but it didn’t matter, “No, but he won’t care,” Craku said, “He doesn’t really care what I do.”
“Don’t say that,” Jek said sympathetically, “He cares about you, he always has you in mind.”
“Yeah,” Craku was unconvinced, but he wasn’t going to argue about how much his father cared for him. He was too tired. He let himself fall to the soft, warm bed. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
For the first time in six years, he slept soundly.

Careful not to make any noise, Falshyo snuck down the castle hallways. Most of the castle guards were asleep, and the ones that weren’t were so close that it didn’t make much of a difference. Falshyo was surprised that the castle wasn’t picked clean by thieves. He guessed they were all too worried that if they got caught they would be hung – ha! How is it possible to get caught? Any decent thief with half a brain could take whatever they liked from the castle. Maybe he only had half a brain…yeah, that would make sense.
A door creaked as it was opened. Falshyo jumped behind a corner, but curiosity got the best of him, and he poked his face around the corner. It was a girl, three years older than him maybe. She was beautiful. She wore a violet dress that ended at her knees and had transparent sleeves that showed off her flawless skin. Her long, copper hair fell over her shoulders and the torchlight glinted off her lavender eyes.
Suddenly, the girl turned to him. Falshyo had no time to react. “Hey!” She said to him, and started walking towards him. He couldn’t run, not now. If he ran she would call the guards and he’d be dead for sure. Maybe if he stayed he could talk his way out.
He walked up to her, “What is this beautiful flower doing surrounded by walls of stone?” Falshyo was proud of his way with words…sort of.
The girl looked at him with interest, “You sweet talk pretty well for a thief,” She teased.
She was falling for it! This was way easier than he ever would have imagined, “I’m an orphan,” He confessed, “But I get by pretty well. Drunk and sleeping guards are a blessing, I’ve always said.”
She giggled at him, “Casemei, pleased to meet you. I guess you could say I’m an orphan, too, but my dad isn’t dead. He’s a diplomat, so he’s gone almost all the time. If I’m lucky, I see him maybe once a year. Everyone here at the castle takes care of me, though.”
“So, were you just taking a midnight stroll?” Falshyo ventured.
“Why, yes. Would you care to join me?” said Casemei playfully.
This was getting better and better. He knew she was just humoring him, but still, he was going to get an escort out of the castle. “It would be an honor.” He replied.

They raced through the empty streets laughing to themselves. They had broken into almost every room in the castle! After the bag that they were using was full, they started hiding things on their person. Casemei had so much jewelry on it was ridiculous.
After they stopped laughing, Falshyo snapped back to reality, “I know a place where we can fence all this,” He said, “We’ll need to get rid of this stuff before it gets too light out or the guards will be all over us.”
Casemei sighed, “I guess you’re right. Can I keep some of this, though?” Designating her jewelry.
“Of course, but I wouldn’t let the people we swiped it from see you in it,” Falshyo joked.
Casemei didn’t answer. She just looked up at the night sky. After a moment she turned to him and smiled, “Alright. Let’s go.”

They walked into a dimly lit room. Valuable goods of all sorts lined the walls and shelves. The faint lighting glinted off gold and silver objects. The small alcove was not inviting, but it did not attract much attention. This made it the perfect place to fence stolen goods.
Falshyo and Casemei made their way to the counter and flung their bag of goods onto the counter. The man behind the desk looked on with interest, “Falshyo, how did you manage to acquire all of this?” The man was short, and he wore face paint that made him look like a cat. He was wearing superfluous clothing and extravagant jewelry, if only to show off his wealth. He was handling a tiara he had pulled from the bag with his hands, which had many rings on every finger.
Falshyo smiled. So far so good. He had a feeling this would go over well, “I had some help.” He gestured towards Casemei.
“May I humbly ask the name of this lovely desert rose?” The man said with a twinkle in his eye.
“Casemei.” She replied bluntly, but not without expression.
“Casemei…absolutely beautiful,” He sighed, “I’m sorry, how rude of me not to introduce myself sooner. I am Assago. I deal with individuals who have realized that there are no laws, only suggestions.”
Assago inspected the contents of the bag for another five minutes before giving an offer, “Hmm…there are some valuable things in here, but this is some very hot merchandise. From the castle, no? So my offer is fifteen medallions.”
Falshyo’s eyes widened. Twenty medallions was enough to eat for a month, but he could get more, “Twenty five medallions.” He countered.
“Robbery!” Assago exclaimed, “Don’t try to cheat me out the money I earned for my hard work! Eighteen medallions, my final offer!”
Falshyo snatched up the bag and began to saunter away, “If you won’t appreciate my business, than I shall take it elsewhere.”
“No, wait!” Assago called after him. A smile spread across Falshyo’s face, “Twenty medallions, I will go no higher!” Said Assago desperately.
Falshyo set the bag down again on the table, “You are a wise man, Assago.” He said with satisfaction.
They both spit on their hands and shook. The deal was closed.

Description
I know, I know this time,
no turning back, we're closing in.
I know, I know this life, was never meant for living in.
We tried, but we couldn't break this curse.
I get the feeling it's much worse
when there's no demons left to fend,
you'll be seeing me again.

Riverboat Gamblers – “Curse of the Ivory Coast”

Chapter One - Cursed

The last beams of daylight struck Craku’s clear hazel eyes before disappearing from the desert overview, leaving it exposed to algid grasp of night. He looked at the desolate city below him in contempt. He was through with being constrained by high rise walls and adobe bricks. From this moment on, he had no obligations but those to himself.
The sun was moving beyond the horizon, out of his sight. It was a sunset that marked the end of the day, as well as the end of all the life Craku had ever known.
For what would not be the last time, Craku turned his back on the city he had called home – which had been all the home he had known in his ten years of life.
His wool traveling cloak billowed in the frigid night breeze. His face was numb and he had almost entirely lost feeling in his fingers. He knew he would have a long, arduous evening ahead of him. Even so, he could never have predicted how tough a night it would be.
He could hear his name being called. He looked in the direction the cry had come from. He could just barely make out the form of his younger brother, Falshyo, running up a sand dune towards him. Craku tried to back away as his brother closed in, but his sandal got caught on a stone and he tumbled backwards.
“Craku!” Falshyo’s eyes were brimming with tears. He jumped onto Craku and held onto his legs.
Craku tried to shake his brother off, but he was clinging too hard, “Get off me, Fal! I’m getting out of this place, and you’re not stopping me.”
Falshyo looked at him, teary-eyed, for what seemed like the longest time until finally speaking, “I’m coming with!” He sobbed at Craku.
Craku was speechless. His brother had no reason to leave, his brother’s life here was perfect. In fact, his brother’s life was what he wanted his own to be like. Their parents spoiled him, and he had so many friends – Craku was jealous of him. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Falshyo had been a brat, but he was completely innocent. Falshyo wasn’t miserable like he was. The only reason Falshyo would have wanted to leave was because of…him. His little brother looked up to him, and it drove Craku out of his mind trying to understand why.
Falshyo had loosened his grip, so Craku got up and started walking westward on the barren desert path. Falshyo caught up to him and trailed at his heels. Craku turned around and kneeled before his brother. Although Craku was only two years older he still was much taller than Falshyo. Craku took off his shirt and wiped Falshyo’s face with it. So much for not worrying about other obligations. “You ready to go?” Craku asked.
Falshyo started grinning like mad and hopping up and down, “Yeah! Yay!” He seemed so happy. It made no sense to Craku. But he figured it didn’t matter as long as Fal was happy.
He would regret his decision to take his brother along for years to come.
They spent hours walking west to the sea, laughing and playing. Maybe they weren’t making good time, but they were happy as ever. Before long, Craku noticed something dark over on one of the dunes farther off. A jackal!
“Falshyo, lets keep going.” Craku hurried his brother, but tried not to sound worried.
“But I’m tired…” Falshyo complained.
“You’ll be alright.” He reassured his brother.
Craku took off at a relatively fast pace, and Falshyo could feel the tension, “Is everything okay?” He asked.
Craku saw that his brother was worried, as well, “Yeah, everything’s fine. Let’s go.” He couldn’t hide that he was afraid for much longer. He had been watching the jackal. It had been coming closer, trying not to be seen. Craku then noticed that there were more of them. It looked to him like there were three or four. He turned to his brother, and to his horror, there stood a jackal, right behind them on the path. Its black coat was glistening in the starlight. Before Craku could react, before he could speak, the jackal lunged at Falshyo. It sunk its teeth into Fal’s shoulder.
Falshyo shrieked. His shriek cut into Craku like hot knives. He had failed. He should have been more careful. He should have known something like this would happen if he let Fal come with. He wished he had never left. Sure, he was miserable back home, but it didn’t come close to this torture. He had let Falshyo down.
Another jackal came up from behind Craku and tore at his hand with its jagged teeth. Craku snapped back to reality. His left, uninjured hand flew to the dagger on his belt. In one more sweeping motion, he swung the dagger around and caught the jackal in the throat. Blood spattered in his face. The jackal dropped dead onto the sand.
Craku faced the remaining jackals. There were four more. He noticed that Falshyo had more bite wounds on him, and one of the jackals was trying to drag him away.
“Bastard!” Craku spat as he lunged at the creature. The jackal yelped and backed away, dropping Falshyo. He had only grazed its leg, but the thrust had the desired effect.
Craku tried to remember the fighting lessons he had learned from his one of his friends who had been part of the castle guard. “The hand is faster than the eye”. This one lesson stood out from all the others. He hadn’t believed it at first, either. That is, until he got a black eye later that month. That phrase separated itself from all the other lessons for some reason. Maybe it just intrigued him, but he hoped it was at least a little more than that.
Craku and the jackal circled each other, both waiting for the moment they would make their move. Craku’s foot brushed up against a pointed rock. A smile spread across his face.
In a flash of sand, Craku kicked the rock at the jackal’s form. Before the rock even struck, Craku lunged at the creature once more. The stone made contact with the jackal’s leg and the beast flinched. However, Craku missed the jackal’s head with his knife and instead left a long gash on its side. The beast wasted no time and jumped on him while his balance was off. They tumbled down the side of a dune and landed on the bank of a river. The other jackals had followed them anxiously, trying to decide whether or not they should join the fray. The beast he was fighting with was obviously the leader. Looking at his empty hands, Craku realized that he had dropped his dagger.
The jackal was on top of him again now. His vision was starting to go blurry from the mixture of blood, sand, and the heat of battle. The jackal sunk its teeth into Craku’s shoulder. He cried out in agony. He had forsaken all means of skillful combat and was flailing his arms and kicking madly. Nonetheless, the jackal wouldn’t let go, and the more he flailed, the more his wound burned.
In one final attempt, Craku shot his hand at the creature’s throat. He made contact and the beast let go of his shoulder. His other hand shot up, and the jackal was in a stranglehold. He was going to finish this. Now.
In one fluid movement, Craku brought one hand back and positioned the other right above the jackal’s neck. Then his arm flew at the creature, hitting it squarely in the neck. A sharp crack resounded and the jackal’s body slumped to the ground.
Craku looked at the other jackals, which were already retreating down along the riverside. Craku felt exhausted and hot blood was running down his side, but he had to get back to Falshyo. He took a few uneasy steps, tripped over himself and felt the ground rushed up to meet him.
Visions of his brother’s bloody corpse lying in the sand flashed before him. Jackals were tearing at Falshyo’s limp form. He could see his brother’s hollow gaze looking straight at him, but not directed towards him; it was a cold stare of death. He could feel the jackals tearing into his flesh once again, reopening his wounds.

Craku woke in a fit and was gasping for breath. Then, as he realized where he was, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He was in his own home, in his own bed. He felt his shoulder that had been burning moments before. Nothing. No bite wounds, no blood, nothing. Although he wasn’t injured, his torso was slick with sweat, and he was completely sapped of energy.
He had been having that same nightmare for the past six years, ever since it had happened. He was reliving his darkest moment every night as he lay down to sleep. It was his punishment – his curse – for letting his brother die. He could never outlive that memory. The knowledge that his brother’s death was on his hands would haunt him forever.
After he had regained his sanity, Craku swung himself out of bed and threw on some ragged clothes. He looked out of the window to judge the time. He gasped as he saw that the sun was high in the sky already. It was close to midday!
Craku heard his father bark something at him as he rushed out of the door. He didn’t care much, being already late for his rendezvous with Rynn at her family’s workshop. He should have known that he would wake up at noon like he did, the excitement that he was going to help at the glassblowing workshop the next day kept him up thinking for hours.
Craku ducked and dodged through the crowd of people, carts, and animals bustling this way and that in the street. This was the busy season for merchants and craftsmen, because now was when all the traders and travelers passed through. Being the capital city of the desert kingdom Casenh, Dylt had the most people visiting. Many visitors were intrigued by glass ornaments and jewelry, as glass was rare in other areas of the continent. Craku figured that this was why he was asked to help at the workshop with Rynn and her parents, so they could keep up with business. He didn’t mind, Rynn was good company. He got along with her better than almost anyone else.
As Craku’s mind wandered to Rynn, he didn’t notice a girl jump out of nowhere until it was too late. She collided into him, sending him flying backwards while she fell onto the ground face first. Craku landed in something he really hoped was mud; still too dazed and surprised to move. His head was spinning. The girl was up on her feet in an instant, though, and she was fuming. Craku was sure she was going to explode, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the look of confusion and rage on her face. Along with her copper hair that was now sticking out in every direction and her dirt covered dress, she looked ridiculous.
“What did you do that for?!” She screeched at him, “You stupid kid! Watch where you’re going!”
Craku was normally a reasonable person, he liked to think. But what she said and the way she said it set him off, “Kid?! You’re not more than a few years older than me, at most!” He yelled back. Craku was sixteen, and he hated being called a kid.
The girl’s face contorted. She opened her mouth to yell something else at him, but she held her tongue. After a few seconds she regained her calm composure, “I’m not going to bother with the likes of you. You can just sit there in your puddle of…ugh. For your sake, I really hope that’s mud. Small chance of that, though.” She giggled and strode past him like nothing had happened.
As Craku got up he noticed the amount of people staring at him. He could feel the blood rushing to his face, flushing it a bright shade of red. He took off and stole towards the alley that provided a shortcut to the workshop. Within a few minutes the glass workshop was in view, along with Rynn, who was outside waiting for him. Her short, black hair was being whipped around by the wind. She stifled laughter as he approached, “I was going to scold you for being late, but it looks like you’ve had enough punishment already.” She said when he got close.
Craku just grunted and followed her into the shop. Everything in the room stopped as he came in. Rynn’s father, Asch, stopped spinning the metal rod with molten glass on the end and the glass started to slump. Craku pointed to the glass just as it started to fall to the ground. Everyone in the room yelped as it hit the floor. “I’m so sorry! I’ll clean it up!” Craku grabbed a metal dustpan and started towards the molten glob.
“No, it’s alright. I’ll clean it up while you go change. Teri, get Craku an apron.” Asch had a very hardened and rough mien, much like a blacksmith, but his voice was much more high-pitched than one would expect.
Rynn’s mother handed Craku a blacksmithing apron and smiled at him. He returned the smile before retreating to the back room to change.
The apron was a little big on him, but strangely comfortable. It didn’t feel like a regular blacksmithing apron. “Um…What’s this made out of?” He asked.
Asch’s eyes lit up, “You see, last year about this time I ran into a merchant who was selling trade supplies. I picked up one of these and he said to me, ‘You have an eye for quality merchandise. Those are special enchanted heat-proof aprons.’ Ha! If the blacksmith had been there he would have offered twice what I paid, but I got them all at bargain price!” In the background you could see Teri and Rynn rolling their eyes. They had probably heard this before.
They got to work immediately. Craku and Rynn took turns between working the bellows and heating iron rods and such. They were only providing support, so that Asch could give his full attention to his art. Teri often helped Asch by adding metal shards to the glass, giving the glass a different color. The glass art never ceased to amaze Craku.

They spent the rest of the day working on various requests by high paying customers. Some people stopped by to browse their display of glass vases, some to watch them work, and others still came to pick up special orders. Craku liked it when people watched them work. He felt inspired to do better. At one point there was even a small crowd who were all watching intently. Craku started doing everything in an exaggerated way to get the peoples’ attention. It wasn’t long after that when Rynn and her parents joined in and it turned into as much a theatrical performance as it was glass-blowing demonstration.
When it was time to close up, Craku changed back into his clothes, which had been hung up outside so they could dry off, while the others cleaned up the shop. Craku stood outside, looking up at the sky. The moon and stars illuminated everything. It was so peaceful now that the bustle had died down, along with the temperature, which had been scorching earlier that day.
“It’s so amazing.” Rynn was standing beside him. Craku looked at her. The moonlight reflected off her blue eyes, making them light up like tiny stars. Rynn suddenly threw her arms around him and whispered, “Good night.”
He was so shocked by her embrace that it was the best he could manage to hug her back and force the words, “Good night.”
“Rynn! Come on! We have to go!” Asch’s words cut through the silence.
She stepped back, moonlight still in her eyes. She smiled at him once more before darting away.

Craku decided against sleeping at home that night. He was going to crash at the guard barracks tonight. No one there ever cared. Sometimes he would even help keep watch.
Most of the guards were much older than him, but there were a few that were in their twenties. Craku had become good friends with one guard named Jek. Jek was twenty-one, easily the youngest guard there. Craku could relate to him, and Jek often told stories of the places he’d been while his regiment had been sent to ward off bandits or patrol the borders. Jek had once told him about when he was sent far north to scout for invading armies. There had been strange white stuff on the ground and it was falling from the sky like rain. Jek had said it was called snow. Craku wanted to see snow once, if only once. And mountains! Jek had told him about giant hills that had pointed tops. Jek had called them mountains. Craku often looked north to see if he could catch a glimpse of these massive structures.
Tonight he had no intention of sharing stories with Jek. He just wanted to rest. Maybe they would talk some, but he was too tired to do more than that.
Craku turned the corner and walked down the main road that ran through the city. The guard barracks was close to the castle, and the great fortress loomed over him as he neared the guard quarters. The castle itself was ancient. It was said that it was the oldest standing structure in Casenh, and perhaps all of Atikara. The bastion stood as a testament to Casenh’s power and the longevity of its empire.
Craku walked up to the door to the barracks. He opened the door and walked in. Everyone there knew him. They wouldn’t care if he walked in. Craku did it all the time. Some of the guards greeted him as he came in. He returned their greeting. He staggered into the sleeping quarters and threw himself on one of the many beds.
“Sleepy?” He recognized Jek’s cheerful voice.
Craku moaned in response. Jek just laughed at him. Craku sat up in the bed, “I was thinking about joining the guard.” He said.
This had taken Jek by surprise, “Have you talked to your father about it?” He questioned.
He hadn’t, but it didn’t matter, “No, but he won’t care,” Craku said, “He doesn’t really care what I do.”
“Don’t say that,” Jek said sympathetically, “He cares about you, he always has you in mind.”
“Yeah,” Craku was unconvinced, but he wasn’t going to argue about how much his father cared for him. He was too tired. He let himself fall to the soft, warm bed. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
For the first time in six years, he slept soundly.

Careful not to make any noise, Falshyo snuck down the castle hallways. Most of the castle guards were asleep, and the ones that weren’t were so close that it didn’t make much of a difference. Falshyo was surprised that the castle wasn’t picked clean by thieves. He guessed they were all too worried that if they got caught they would be hung – ha! How is it possible to get caught? Any decent thief with half a brain could take whatever they liked from the castle. Maybe he only had half a brain…yeah, that would make sense.
A door creaked as it was opened. Falshyo jumped behind a corner, but curiosity got the best of him, and he poked his face around the corner. It was a girl, three years older than him maybe. She was beautiful. She wore a violet dress that ended at her knees and had transparent sleeves that showed off her flawless skin. Her long, copper hair fell over her shoulders and the torchlight glinted off her lavender eyes.
Suddenly, the girl turned to him. Falshyo had no time to react. “Hey!” She said to him, and started walking towards him. He couldn’t run, not now. If he ran she would call the guards and he’d be dead for sure. Maybe if he stayed he could talk his way out.
He walked up to her, “What is this beautiful flower doing surrounded by walls of stone?” Falshyo was proud of his way with words…sort of.
The girl looked at him with interest, “You sweet talk pretty well for a thief,” She teased.
She was falling for it! This was way easier than he ever would have imagined, “I’m an orphan,” He confessed, “But I get by pretty well. Drunk and sleeping guards are a blessing, I’ve always said.”
She giggled at him, “Casemei, pleased to meet you. I guess you could say I’m an orphan, too, but my dad isn’t dead. He’s a diplomat, so he’s gone almost all the time. If I’m lucky, I see him maybe once a year. Everyone here at the castle takes care of me, though.”
“So, were you just taking a midnight stroll?” Falshyo ventured.
“Why, yes. Would you care to join me?” said Casemei playfully.
This was getting better and better. He knew she was just humoring him, but still, he was going to get an escort out of the castle. “It would be an honor.” He replied.

They raced through the empty streets laughing to themselves. They had broken into almost every room in the castle! After the bag that they were using was full, they started hiding things on their person. Casemei had so much jewelry on it was ridiculous.
After they stopped laughing, Falshyo snapped back to reality, “I know a place where we can fence all this,” He said, “We’ll need to get rid of this stuff before it gets too light out or the guards will be all over us.”
Casemei sighed, “I guess you’re right. Can I keep some of this, though?” Designating her jewelry.
“Of course, but I wouldn’t let the people we swiped it from see you in it,” Falshyo joked.
Casemei didn’t answer. She just looked up at the night sky. After a moment she turned to him and smiled, “Alright. Let’s go.”

They walked into a dimly lit room. Valuable goods of all sorts lined the walls and shelves. The faint lighting glinted off gold and silver objects. The small alcove was not inviting, but it did not attract much attention. This made it the perfect place to fence stolen goods.
Falshyo and Casemei made their way to the counter and flung their bag of goods onto the counter. The man behind the desk looked on with interest, “Falshyo, how did you manage to acquire all of this?” The man was short, and he wore face paint that made him look like a cat. He was wearing superfluous clothing and extravagant jewelry, if only to show off his wealth. He was handling a tiara he had pulled from the bag with his hands, which had many rings on every finger.
Falshyo smiled. So far so good. He had a feeling this would go over well, “I had some help.” He gestured towards Casemei.
“May I humbly ask the name of this lovely desert rose?” The man said with a twinkle in his eye.
“Casemei.” She replied bluntly, but not without expression.
“Casemei…absolutely beautiful,” He sighed, “I’m sorry, how rude of me not to introduce myself sooner. I am Assago. I deal with individuals who have realized that there are no laws, only suggestions.”
Assago inspected the contents of the bag for another five minutes before giving an offer, “Hmm…there are some valuable things in here, but this is some very hot merchandise. From the castle, no? So my offer is fifteen medallions.”
Falshyo’s eyes widened. Twenty medallions was enough to eat for a month, but he could get more, “Twenty five medallions.” He countered.
“Robbery!” Assago exclaimed, “Don’t try to cheat me out the money I earned for my hard work! Eighteen medallions, my final offer!”
Falshyo snatched up the bag and began to saunter away, “If you won’t appreciate my business, than I shall take it elsewhere.”
“No, wait!” Assago called after him. A smile spread across Falshyo’s face, “Twenty medallions, I will go no higher!” Said Assago desperately.
Falshyo set the bag down again on the table, “You are a wise man, Assago.” He said with satisfaction.
They both spit on their hands and shook. The deal was closed.