The air was hot and dry, the spriggan's throat was equally parched and unwatered. The town was silent. It seemed so out of place, yet so fitting for this barren desert. The idea of human presence was suggested from the existence of these buildings, yet the dead silence of the town made it clear the dunes had claimed this land as well.

He trudged on the hard rock roads, feeling the stone beneath his feet, a strange relief after the endless miles of soft, tumbling sand. The dunes seeming to tug at his shoes, for every step forward, he seemed to take half a step back.

There was movement behind the windows of the houses. Shutters were closed, curtains were drawn,  frightened eyes peered through gaps. 

He trudged slowly, tiredly, the hope for relief in this town almost dashed, and stopped in front of a large inn. The swinging doors were marked with a faded green. A soft piano tune was issuing from somewhere inside and he could hear chatter and orders for more beer. The spriggan pushed open the doors, and at once, the first person noticed him. They whispered something to their neighbor, who whispered something to the one next to him. Pretty soon, the whole inn was staring at him, fascinated. 

He was rooted in place for a moment, waiting, perhaps, for the pianist to start the hell up again, but nothing moved. Finally, the young man snapped into motion again and walked up to the bar, slipping a few silver coins onto it. 

"I'd like a meal and a room, please. But get me water first, as much goddamn water as you can fit in your largest mug, and then some." He said, and the young barmaid raised an eyebrow at him. She stared so intently he wondered if he had something on his face. He glanced at the mirror. Same narrow, soft black eyes, full lips, thin eyebrows, and thinning face. Nothing out of the ordinary, in fact. 

The barmaid herself was quite beautiful, not someone you'd expect to be cooking food for some rowdy men drunk off their asses (who had gone back to their drinking and laughing, although there was tension in the air). She had the soft, beautiful face of someone who wouldn't look out of place on a magazine cover, and seemed to him to be the type of person who would carry around cute accessories filled with poison. 

"Is there a problem?" The spriggan asked. For a moment, she looked like she was going to speak, but then, pursed her lips and shook her head. 

"The only thing we have right now are eggs and sausages, the silver won't be enough to cover the cost of everything you're asking for right now." She said, casually sliding the coins off the counter and pocketing them. 

"Name your price, I just need to drink, please." 

She smirked at him. He registered that her smirk was more pleasant than her imperious look. He also registered he was about to be scammed. "You're going to need four more coins to get all that. Think you can afford it?"

It was a ridiculous price, but he flipped the extra silver onto the counter, desperate to water his throat.

The barmaid frowned, then went into the kitchen with angry strides, as if she hadn't just successfully scammed the hell out of a desperate man. 

 She came back moments later with a large tankard of water, and assured him that the meal would be here shortly, although he didn't smell anything from the kitchen yet. 

"Drink it slowly, with little sips." She said, softer this time. "Or you might die, and I'd have to lug you out of my building. Plus, it would give my inn a bad name." 

The water was lukewarm and could hardly be tap water, but heaven had come as he sipped his tankard like it contained the nectar of the gods, feeling it refresh his throat. He saw a brief vision of a stone baking in the hot sun, then a tidal wave came and washed away the dirt to reveal a diamond. 

When the barmaid laid his scrambled eggs on sausages, he inhaled the meal, pausing only to thank her, and she couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous he looked. 

"Nice to see someone who's actually here for the food rather than me or booze." She chuckled. "What you here for? Not the fresh ocean air, surely?"

He shook his head while wolfing down a whole sausage without pausing to slice it. He choked and saw his life flash before his eyes before he managed to swallow it and finish his tankard in a single gulp.

"Not quite. I'm looking for something." He said. "Not really sure where it is, but I can tell it's somewhere around this desert." 

She cocked an eyebrow. He found this irritating. "Rather vague, wouldn't you say? The desert's goddam vast. You got a name?"

He regarded her curiously. She was definitely a strange one. He then shook his head. "Spriggan, I'm just Spriggan."

"No you're not, that will be confusing with the amount of spriggans tramping around these parts." She rolled her eyes and sat down on a bench opposite him. "These goddam spriggans walking around thinking they own the place. Are you one?"

He nodded. She nodded back. "You're weird, then. No spriggan would let a woman like me talk like that about them. My name's Calli." She finished, holding out her hand. 

"You haven't had good experiences with spriggans, have you?" Spriggan remarked, after giving her hand a single shake. 

"You won't encounter anyone in this town who has. They used to be something, like, royal knights, right? They're as good as mercenaries nowadays, except they have a head the size of a planet." Calli sighed. She grabbed a mug and filled it with foaming beer, passed it his way, and filled another for herself. "Here, I kind of scammed you back there, so this should make up for it."

He doubted a single mug would make up for the amount of silver paid, but he drank deeply and gratefully. The beer was good and strong and seemed to sharpen his thoughts. 

As for Calli, she downed half the mug in three large gulps and slammed it back down, making the whole bar tremble. Her cheeks were red and her eyes angry. She gripped her mug fiercely as if she was about to chuck it at me. 

"And where do you get off, hunkering down in our town, huh?! Got something you wanna do? Got a horse you wanna steal? Beer you wanna drink? A woman you wanna bed? Then what, you gonna ride off nobly into the distance never to be seen again after taking everything and leaving nothing behind?! All you son of a bitch spriggans are just renegades, now!" She burped and her forehead hit the table. 

She lifted her head with a grunt and downed the rest of her mug. He might have tried to stop her, if she didn't look like she would bite his arm off if he did. "But you're different." She continued, suddenly tearful. "You're different, cuz you were polite. You paid, you thanked me, you said 'please'. You're weird. I miss Henry." 

She laid her head onto her bar and cried into her arms. The men in the bar gathered around her. Some of them muttered curses, others chuckled and left, some seemed to eye her hungrily. Spriggan knew that look well. It was the look he saw too often of the criminals and drunkards living in the slums. The look they got when they saw women being carted off to their small, decrepit brothels. 

The women they got there were the ones the nobles no longer cared for. The ones who had caught a disease, the ones who were too used, or the ones who were simply of no interest. They were cast off, like garbage, into the slums, for the rats to feast on. 

He set down his mug in front of one of the men. Every eye seemed to turn to him. He looked back at them, and, suddenly, no one seemed to be able to meet his eye. 

"Get out." Spriggan said. It was short, simple, yet coming from this thin, young man, something about it held power. 

Some of the men shrank back from him, but some walked up to him, challenging.

"Beat it, kid." The largest one said. "This is the first chance we got in three years. We ain't gonna waste it." 

"And I'm saying you will." Spriggan answered. "You're gonna go home for the day. The bar's closed."

He was seized by the front of his shirt and tossed aside. He landed heavily on his back, letting out a grunt of pain. Something hard slammed his head to the ground and he saw stars. 

"That's for us to decide. She's one of the last women left in this town, and I'm sick of it. To hell with what happens next." He went to grab her head (she was now nicely asleep on the bartop) and the spriggan got to his feet.

"A box without a keyhole, hinges, or a lid. Yet inside, golden treasure is hid. What am I?" 

There was no response. Some of the men glanced back at him, but none seemed to pay him much attention. Perhaps they thought his mind befuddled from the earlier blow. 

"You don't know the answer, then learn it in dreams." Spriggan said, holding his hand out before him.  "Sleep."

As soon as he said his words, the men thumped to the ground from whatever position they had been standing in. The one who had picked Calli up fell face first onto the bar and rebounded onto his back, landing painfully. He snored peacefully as a large knot formed on his forehead. 

The spriggan regarded his work critically, then proceeded to kick and roll the snoring men out of the bar. 

He picked up Calli in his arms and lugged her up the stairs, praying he could find her a room and finally get some goddam sleep.