Khysan raced through the village, desperate to find water. He had enough food in his pack to last the day, but it's been far too long without a proper drink. The sword on his back felt increasingly heavy, and his legs felt like the bones would shatter any moment. He was tired. So tired. But he had to keep pushing.

Auriela was back at home and needed him. Since their parents died three years ago, Khysan was the only one able to provide for them, but with the regime the way it was now, finding anything was difficult.

He shook the thoughts from his head and continued onward. The smell of fresh pastries from a shop enticed him and he stumbled inside, barely able to hold himself up.