Chapter 2: The Oasis.

The southwestern district of Midgard is made of a great stretch of bare, desiccated land, which seems to be devoid of any life forms save for the occasional few little animals and insects which have learnt the ways to thrive in the Great Desert of Sograt. Since the founding of Midgard four hundred years prior, the Sograt desert has remained largely uninhabited by the human race of the nation. In the land where there is hardly any assurance of survival, only the creatures that have learnt to adapt to the harsh climate, may live. Most of the desert plants remain as seeds or bulbs throughout the dry periods, and only come to life when water is made available after slight showers of rain which rarely come. They hurry into bloom to produce new seeds within a day or two, and wilt away when water becomes depleted. Thus the cycle continues for the rest of the year, the coming decades and centuries, seemingly for eternity. What little animals that are left, survive by avoiding the direct heat of the day by hiding in burrows, coming out at night only to feed. They often travel long distances without drinking, and should they encounter a bigger, stronger predator during travel, their fate often lies in death. Only the strong ones get to live, and this vicious cycle of preying and being preyed on, has been accepted as the way of life in the Great Desert.

Unlike the other regions in Midgard where human societies prosper in wealth and enjoy great technological advancements, the small population in Sograt consists mostly of nomadic folks. They live in tents and move around from one area to another throughout the year, searching for the more fertile lands where they can grow some wheat or barley. Sometimes when luck is on their side, they may encounter terrains which are rich in minerals such as gold and silver, or semi-precious stones. Some of them also own a few goats and sheep, which provide nutritious milk to the younger children. The rest of the family usually live on what little food they obtain by bartering their goods with the merchants and townspeople who occasionally come across them on their way to the next city.

However, not all of the people of Sograt live such a simple way of life. In the few places where there are wells or rivers that provide water for irrigation, small villages or towns may flourish. Where there is enough water to cultivate crops to support a larger population, the district is known as an oasis. The folks may then plant date palms and some simple vegetable such as onions and potatoes. Cities can only be built where there is an oasis, and Morroc is one such place in Sograt.

While Morroc may be the only place fit to be considered a city in Sograt, it boasts a larger population than most of the other major cities in Midgard, with the exception of the capital, Prontera and the busy port city, Alberta. It is a metropolis rich in both culture and heritage, where trade of spices is a major source of income alongside silk-weaving and carpet-making. The major exports of Morroc to other cities include spices such as cinnamon, pepper and cloves. The stalls lining the streets of the morning bazaar showcases a variety of prayer rugs, tribal carpets, and silk clothing in an astonishing range of colours. Silk-weavers sit behind their stalls, proudly demonstrating their workmanship while working on the best material. The carpet traders often spend their morning bargaining with visitors, trying to convince them of the superiority of their products.

However, there is another side to Morroc which outsiders rarely get to see. In the dilapidated houses and back alleys in certain parts of the city, assassins gather to train their physical strength, and to learn the art of poison-making. These beings are collectively known as the Thieves, a major class of jobs practised in Midgard. They are notorious fighters, with unmatched agility and precision; often a Thief would sneak up stealthily behind the targets and disposes of them with a quick, deep slit across the throat, or a blow of deadly poison into the ear. The Thief then steps back and quietly disappears into the shadows, before anyone can even realise his presence. The Thieves are emotionless beings, without any mercy or compassion, trained to obey their Lord's orders with no hesitation and to use whatever means necessary in order to achieve their great cause.

Standing above the Thieves is their supreme leader, the honourable Lord of Sograt, also called the Commander of Thieves and who holds the official title of the Emir of Morroc. It is a position of absolute power and esteem, and is traditionally held by the head of the Jin family in every generation. The Jins have been leading the Thieves even before the founding of Midgard, when they conquered Sograt and established themselves as the Lords of the desert.

The official residence of the Jin family is located to the west of Morroc. Known as the Qasr, it is a formidable structure, a fortified fort with a total combined area of more than twenty acres, including a large internal courtyard which serves as a training ground for the Thieves living in it. The main building is four storeys in height, with great towering minarets built on every corner. But perhaps the main difference that the Qasr holds, in comparison to other great castles and mansions in Midgard, is its location in an open field, instead of in the heart of a city. A fort located on an open land is usually prone to attacks; during a siege, its food and water supply can be easily cut off, and outside assistance is usually difficult to reach. However, time and again the Qasr of Sograt has proven to be indomitable. Apart from its impressive external defence, there are shadows lurking in every corner of the building, and guards may emerge from the seemingly harmless walls, quietly taking the lives of the ones who had dared to infringe the Qasr. However, not all those who trespass are lucky enough to meet quick deaths. Often, they are brought before the Lord to be judged, and punishment is often ruthless and inhumane. They are thrown into the underground prisons and torture chambers, and are doomed to suffer unimaginable pain and humiliation at the hands of the Thieves. The exact methods of torture remain a mystery to today, as those who managed to survive are often left so horrendously disfigured that the mere mention of the Qasr fills them with sheer terror.

However, on this particular day, the sixteenth day in the month of Iunius, there is an unmistakably tense atmosphere in the Qasr. Servants are seen scrubbing the floors quietly, not daring to utter a word. The guards stand erect in the doorways, their attention unfaltering. Even the crows perched atop the archways seem unusually timid.

In the Lord's Great Chamber of the Qasr, an old man draped in white is sitting on a prayer rug facing the great arched window. His eyes are closed; his face looks serene and tranquil. His lips move slowly, chanting a prayer to the Gods. Soon a Guillotine Cross approaches him. The newcomer stands behind respectfully, waiting to be beckoned. The old man finally stands up with much difficulty.

"Ashif, my good man. You have come to me with news?"

The Guillotine Cross bows his head regretfully. "A thousand apologies, Lord Commander. We are still unable to locate Master Shou. However, we have heard of some talks that Master Shou may be somewhere in the area of the Payon forests. I have sent out twenty men to scout; we shall hear back from them by nightfall".

"Payon, eh? The same place that the heir to the Kou family had went to seek refuge two nights ago?"

"Yes, Lord Commander. It seems like the young Lord Kou is currently under the protection of the village head, Han Jang. I am concerned that the young master..."

"Will come into harm at the hands of the Merchants? Fear not, my good man. Shou is now completely in the hands of the Gods. If he is fated to live, he shall live. It is this ambush business that I do not like. There is certainly a thorn among us, in this Qasr".

The Guillotine Cross hisses. "Yes, my Lord. I shall root him out soon. But it was still my fault that Master Shou had been assaulted on our journey, and became separated from us. Please hand out punishment as you sees fit, my Lord".

"What's done, is done. Do not concern yourself over it. Now we shall only pray... in the name of our God, the Wise, the Compassionate..."

Without another word, the two men stand motionless, watching the sun sets in the far horizon.