THE SUN WAS barely beginning to rise over the distant mountain range surrounding Milach Town. On her normal route, Saharah would be heading in that direction, preparing to spend this day around the nearer Piyu Town. Continuing on as usual, though, was far out of the question after what she'd heard the night before after finishing her rounds in the coast town of Nugar.
One of the rare humans that lived in the land was doing a trade-in with her the night before and, as was usual with her customers, was also trading news of what was happening around here for what was happening where'd she been. Most of the time, it was only trivial things that happened, nothing too big or too important. Rarely ever anything that she had to worry about. But this boy brought up something that almost made her pass out.
After hearing that, she quickly finished the transaction and left the town as quickly as she could. Recalling the stories the elders back in the desert used to tell her, she hurried along the coast to the northern city of Zaoch, where she hadn't been since her early days of carpet-selling.
The boy had told her that Zaoch and several other cities in the northern region, where she hadn't included on her route because of poor sells, had recently been taken over by a growing ocean empire. If she had learned anything from the elders, it was that history often repeats itself, and the last time there was a grand empire in their world it had disastrous results.
It an empire truly was developing among their free lands, she'd have to do everything in her power to stop it. First she'd have to reach one of the territories, Zaoch, for example, and find out just what was going on and who was behind it. Once she was completely sure and had enough information to act, she'd have to get as many people as possible to stand behind her. The elders had long taught her than anyone can make the difference, and all it takes is one person with the courage to stand up to stop a disaster such as this.
Of course, they had also taught her that it was up to the people of these lands to save their own homes. She was but a mere carpet-salescamel, who had only one goal in mind: to earn the money to support her own people. If trying to stop the disaster in these lands interferred with her personal and more important task she would be in trouble. It wasn't supposed to be her business what was happening here.
Still, she would at least have to get everything started. She didn't yet know whether the people in Zaoch had the courage or means to stand against an empire on their own, or whether they even knew what having one meant. If she only stopped long enough to open their eyes to the only way this could play out, then certainly no harm could be done. There was even a chance that some carpets may be sold to the grateful people once their lands were once again their own.
The first half of the day was wasted with getting to the city. Saharah watched the sun climb up through the clouds warily, knowing that someway or another she would have to make up the sales she had lost today. If she didn't, the elders would be angry with her and more of her people would have to go without food in their harsh homeland. With any luck, all would be taken care of in Zaoch.
The city didn't look very different at first sight, but there were those little underlying clues to what had happened. The flagpoles on the docks that had once proudly worn the seal of the city were now bearing the black pirate skull and the name "Mai". Streets once filled with cheerful people who had little need for carpets in their shabby homes were now walking the streets warily, trying to avoid everything they could and pretending they could see no distractions to their tasks. Everytime Saharah tried to stop someone to talk to them, they gave them a terrified, yet angry glare and continued on as though uninterrupted.
Seeing that she was going to find nothing on the streets, the camel continued to the police station. If there was one good place to find information, that was it. Trying to remember exactly where it was, she walked a few acres east until she saw the familiar cylinder shape sticking up ahead. Relieved that it was still there, she jogged over to it to speak to Officer Copper.
Only, he wasn't there. A burly-looking bull dog in a grey hat and black, skull shirt stood in his place. As Saharah approached, he gave her a curious look, noticing that there was something about her that was different from most of the city residents.
"Oi, you'd be a traveller, right? You're one puny animal, gutbag." He grunted then laughed. "You sure chose the wrong city to come to. This 'ere is property of the Great and Mighty Ruler, Empress Mai. You got to remember that name, gutbag, 'cause you're going to be saying it a heck of a lot fer the rest of your pathetic life."
He snapped and three more bull dogs, these ones wearing shirts with the same logo as the flags, jumped out and easily wrestled Saharah to the ground. In her futile struggle, her bag was ripped by one of their claws and one of her precious carpets fell out and rolled to the feet of the first officer. Smiling and giving another grunt laugh, he picked it up and unrolled it enough to see its design. A look of surprise flashed on his face, then he resumed snickering.
"Well, well, well. Looks like we've got ourselves an artist. You boys had better ship this one off ter Parker." he rerolled up the carpet and stuffed it back into the back. Leaning down to face Saharah, he spoke with another disgusting laugh. "Looks like you might end up being useful, gutbag. Empress Mai could sure use some of them pretty carpets in her palace. And if you can't make them yourself, I'd suggest you'd learn real fast, 'cause the Empress sure doesn't like to be disappointed."
By nightfall, Saharah had been packed on a boat with several other pathetic-looking animals. Unable to do their jobs in Zaoch, they were being sent with her to Parker, whom she had been told was the master of the slaves on a land called by the ancients the Island of Storms, where the Empress Mai had built her palace. The others who were joining her spent the trip in depression, bemoaning their poor fate and cursing their bad luck to be caught taking breaks or falling from exhaustion caused by their never-ceasing work. The camel, on the other hand, was almost looking forward to seeing their destination.
It was yet another story told to her by the elders. There was an ancient prophecy told about the Island of Storms, that one day, when the world looked darkest, the meaning of its name would be fully revealed. Maybe there was more to this than she'd at first thought. Maybe, just maybe, the elders wouldn't get too made at her for getting captured by these hooligans who thought themselves building a grand empire and being delayed in her task as well.