There are moments in a man's life when desperation takes hold of him so fiercely that he will grasp at anything, virtue or vice, to secure what he needs. Whether for work, for others, or for his own survival, he will wager his very being upon the chance of attaining his goal. Some will plead, while others will resort to darker deeds
It was after the Nile had risen above its accustomed height and spilling forth upon the land and swallowing the fields and dwellings along its banks. The flooding came once each year, yet its ruin was always grievous. It rose as though the river itself ascended from the earth only to seize what men had laboured for, and then, once satisfied, returned to its bed after ravaging the country.
Among the countless victims of that annual tide was Jura's estate. The destruction was great, his fields lay submerged beneath murky water. In response, Jura drove his slaves mercilessly, forcing them to labor from sunrise until the sun's last slumber, refusing them rest, denying them meals. They worked only under the lash of his command, and any who faltered were met with painful punishment.
Tabia, frail in body as she already was, began to stagger as hunger gnawed fiercely at her stomach, its rumbling like a plea for mercy. Yet she did not abandon her work, she forced herself onward despite her suffering. Her condition filled the young A-in with growing worry.
When at last the mighty sun sank beneath the horizon, A-in observed Jura and his wife retreat into their dwelling. He waited, watching for any sign the man might emerge again, but time passed and the household remained still.
With a machete hidden in his grasp, A-in crept toward Jura's barn. His steps were soundless, slow, and careful, every motion taken to avoid discovery. When he pushed open the door, it groaned with a long, creaking sigh. Inside, four sheep lay asleep, eyes closed and their breaths deep and heavy.
A-in approached the one nearest the door. Kneeling beside it, he stared at the creature for a long moment. His fingers tightened around the handle of the blade, uncertain whether he should sheathe it again or bring it down upon the helpless neck before him. His stomach ached, days had passed without a proper meal, while Jura and his family feasted each eve despite the flood.
What he was about to do was wrong. He knew it. Yet he also knew that he must survive, if he ever hoped to see another sunrise.
Drawing in a sharp breath, A-in lifted the machete and brought it down. The blow was loud, startling the sleeping sheep, the others awoke at once, bleating in alarm. In that moment, A-in understood that his desperate act would not go without consequence.
How strange, he thought faintly. I have not dreamt in a long while.
A-in's consciousness returned slowly. His head bumped against pebbles, each jolt sending a dull ache through his skull, and only then did he realize that someone was dragging him by the feet. Though stones littered the ground, the man pulled him with such strength that the path felt almost smooth.
A-in's eyes fluttered open. He was met at once by the fierce light of the sun, and he blinked several times, for its brightness blinded him. As his vision cleared, he found himself in a place utterly unlike the city. What he saw was no city, no fields, no houses, only dunes stretching endlessly beneath the heavens.
They were in the desert.
Frowning, A-in lifted his gaze toward the man dragging him. At that same moment, the man turned and looked back.
"The bastard is awake." The man announced.