Or May the Desert be Your Grave!

A bullet, single, long and sharp, it penetrated my skin with the force of a charging bull. Not only was I knock off balance, but my throat clenched at that instant. I wasn't exactly sure what hurt, or where it has hit.

All this in a single millisecond.

More bullets thudded into me, knocking me back, further and faster than ever before. Before I knew it, my body was limp, and weak. I had no control, and warm, warm blood was leaking over my skin. It seemed to be a comfort, a relief even.

As the warmth faded away, and my body smashed into the water, I heard a familiar voice, one I would have been all to glad to hear only seconds earlier. Sphyx was charging forwards. He held a pistol which kept jumping back.

I smiled, and let my body and eyes disappear under the watery sea. The battle was over, it was all over. I was relieved, and as death started to gather up my body and belongings, he too smiled. "It's not over yet" he whispered to himself, quietly, so no one but himself and the All-knowing could hear. "There is much, much more for you yet, Saeot Marekerbrakc".

One - Gate to the Path

"Saeot" he croaked in his fast drawl. It seemed strange to me that someone could croak and drawl at the same time. And yet, Krew did, "Saeot, my boy!"

Funny, how he could patronise someone like that. Krew was a strange character all together. I'd been brought into this because my expertise in espionage and undercover work. That in itself deserves a chapter in this story, but I don't have time for it.

"It's Set" I muttered, as Krew floundered past me, turning to face me. People were watching, occasionally bringing their tankards up to their lips and gulping down their brew.

"Whatever" Krew said, kicking his thin legs impatiently. "Anyway, Saeot, You know what I want you to do? Mm?"

I shook my head.

"I see…" Krew murmured, chucking me a knife from a rack above someone's head. I caught it by its handle. It was a total fluke, and I stood, shocked and in complete awe of myself. I probably would never be able to do that again, purposefully.

"Now, Set, to business. This man" he flashed me a photo. It was Baron Praxis, our glorious (That's sarcastic, even though it's all italic dictator. Haven was a great place to be right now. "I lost my man in the palace. Shot, I believe…" he mumbled the last bit, trying to hide it from me. "But he was worthless, unlike you!" I think he tried to beam at this point but the edges of his mouth were hidden by folds of skin. "You're bright and clever fellow who--!"

"Krew, just tell me what I need to do"

Krew frowned, pondering my words, then flicked a tiny yet podgy hand, saying "Get me some intelligence in the Palace; it's worth 60 precursor orbs."

I gasped. Precursor orbs were rare, and could be sold off at a humongous price. I also had a nagging suspicion he'd get them back from me through trading routes. Thus was the nature of this crime-lord, and I had come to accept it.

"Ok Krew, when do you want the intelligence?"

"I say a year in the palace, and gather everything you can find out about the Baron's dealings, and tell me when you get a chance" he smiled. "One precursor orb for anything I like"

I frowned, taking all this in. "You've thought this through properly, haven't you? I mean, they see an orb in the palace and, I'm fish food, I'm sussed, and you got the information you needed and lost probably nothing, because of you're trading routes…"

Krew scowled. "You're good" he said slowly. "And indeed, you are correct. I scheme. In this case, you are of no value whatsoever, get lost"

And with that, he took off towards the ceiling, dropping down only to slap the barmaid viciously over the head for spilling a pint.

But I wasn't. If I had continued to think, I would have left the bar straight away, but no, I stood for a minute, thinking about other things, Personal, irrelevant things. Things that got me killed. Things that had my name scratched from the Haven city census, thrown into the desert and left for dead.

Things that changed my life forever.