Cold.

I hate the cold, and I especially hate it when it's a cold desert. I hate sand, and I hate cold, and the desert at night is probably my least favorite place to be.

The concoction in my personal flask does little to ward off the icy wind that carries my lone sand dinghy across the Great Desert.

Though its light is as cold as the air around me, I am thankful for the full moon this evening. Without it, I surely would not have spotted my destination, for it was completely dark.

And why shouldn't it be?

Loc Lac was once a bustling place, full of hunters, gatherers, and barterers all going about their lives. Many young hunters found their calling here. Many veterans found friends here. The sands that blew during the Festival of Fear were at times cruel enough to tarnish even the carapace of an Uragaan.

As I pulled ashore of the shifting sands and stepped onto the empty, crumbling dock, I felt a weight descend upon me. It was the flood of emotions that my first glance into the city stirred within me: grief, isolation, and maybe even a touch of fear.

Hey, it was dark and deathly quiet, save for the faint howl of the wind-hunter instincts take over in situations like that.

I somehow failed to notice that I had started walking, and found myself on the main throughway that led to the Hunter's Quarter, where hunters would congregate and prepare for their adventures. Everywhere I looked, structures were either in a state of advanced disrepair, or had already yielded entirely to the driving sandstorms. The two great obelisks that had marked the entrance to the city proper were mere piles of rubble extending from their bases, with only foundation blocks worn smooth by the desert wind still intact.

The only structure that seemed untarnished by the cruel reality of time was the great Elder Dragon tusk, still stuck in the mountain and casting a long shadow in the moonlight.

I had been away in a far distant land for a long time. I only heard stories of what had happened, and they always seemed to change. Whatever it was that had driven the populace of Loc Lac to abandon their thriving city, I would likely never know for certain. I couldn't decide whether I felt relieved or dismayed that there were no obvious signs of a monster attack. It would have wounded me to know that such a travesty had occurred in my absence, but at the same time, I would have taken a small measure of comfort in knowing the truth. Alas, no such warmth would come, for it simply looked as though one day everyone had decided to pack up and leave, never to return.

I sat down at the table in one of the only taverns that hadn't yet filled with sand and rubble, where doubtless many a hunter had sat before me, celebrating victories or drowning failures with all manner of intoxicating beverages. I took my personal flask from my hip and raised it in silence toward the moon, my only company in this dead city, before sipping its contents to restore some of the inner warmth I had lost. I took in my bleak surroundings: the desk where the charming young representatives of the Hunter's Guild would dole out quests was surprisingly intact, though the quest board itself was bare, any parchment attached having long since decayed away. The supply depot was now hardly more than an empty cave.. The stairs that led to the forge gave way to total darkness in the absence of the cheerful flames that had cast all manner of weapons and armor for us hunters out of the spoils of our trials.

The silence and solitude were utterly crushing, both physically and emotionally. The ache in my chest caused me to sigh heavily. This release brought no relief; the pain only grew in intensity, and I soon felt my eyes stinging...I blinked and rubbed the moisture away with my fingers. Damn that wind...

I gruffly shoved myself away from the table and began a brisk walk back to my transport. I already have had my fill of this place. There is nothing here for me anymore, or any hunter, I thought to myself. I only paused to turn and look one last time before I bade Loc Lac a bitter farewell, silently and vehemently cursing whoever or whatever had wrought its untimely demise.

Only a tiny flickering flame of hope still burned within my heart; a foolish hope that Loc Lac would somehow find new purpose in the near future.


A/N: Thank you for reading. Good hunting.