Summary: Priss is left stranded in a desert of North Africa. A peaceful tribe find Priss and take her in. She does not know of their ways at first but will she learn? Will the other Knight Sabers find her? Will Khyar slit her throat?
RARE LIFE
By Cat
PROLOGUE
PRISS ASAGIRI CROSSED THE DESERT IN pain and sickness. Her heart was working extra slowly as the time passed. So far she had been keeping her head but now it didn't matter to her or the state her mangled body was in. She had kept a low profile as a Knight Saber but now she wished that she could have been known to many more people and cared by those crowds she played for on most weekends. She wasn't a wildly known singer but she had at least kept the fun in the life and adrenaline in the body.
She had no water and no clothes; what else could go wrong? The only thing she did have was a necklace around her sweating neck and the ropes of rouge boomer that held her hands together behind her hot back. The bands of special alloy cut into her now swollen, sweaty and blistered hands and she found it hard to remove the bands which caused so much pain and suffering.
A glinting suddenly came into view and she squinted to try and see what it was. She walked back a few steps and the light which had crossed her face moments before disappeared in a few seconds. She walked forward with closed eyes and when she opened them her pupils gave a reflection until it disappeared and the metallic object came into view.
About half of a blade lay buried in the hot sand. She walked over and sat down just in front of it. With one swollen hand she lifted the small blade and tried to saw the bindings away. It was hard and hurt Priss' hands to her limit. But yet, she continued.
After about ten minutes the metallic rope split with a small snap and she pulled her hands from behind her back and ripped away the remaining rope. She nursed her swollen, bruised and bleeding hands in pain. Priss whimpered as the blood started to come back into her hands. The skin around her wrists had been cut and was starting to get infected. Sweat and sand openly entered into the blood covered gaps in her wrists which cause harm and pain to the young rock singer. Tears started to stream down her sun burnt face and after minutes the tears seemed to evaporate leaving sticky, salty paths.
She closed her eyes and tried to block the sun from her eyes. She could bear the heat no longer and if she didn't get water soon she would die from dehydration and loss of blood. She would die a suffering hero, beautiful in the mind of Leon McNichol.
The last few moments before her brain shut off were mere memories of her friends, family and past. She missed all of this and wished that it could somehow be different but it would not come true.
She had been asleep/ unconscious for no longer than five minutes before a small group of camels approached from behind. One of the riders swiftly got down and examined her.
"What is it Hafid?" A deep voice growled.
"It is a female Khyar." A different voice, Hafid, said.
TO BE COTINUED . . .