{It's been a while...}

[Of course you have a stupid essay due tomorrow in English.]

[Of COURSE you decided to procrastinate.]

[OF COURSE you still need to find a book to- wait.]

[That's it!]

[Once more, you open the book and turn to a page.]

\°/

Two odd dots of purple stood out from the barren desert.

Perhaps they were a trick of the light, the air around them practically glowing with all the colors of the rainbow and then some.

Perhaps they were simply some tumbleweeds, made exotic by the sweltering heat.

Whatever the case, what good is an oddity with no-one to see it?

The desert is a cruel place. But it is not heartless, and certainly not without life.

At the very center of the Great Desert lies a dried-up fountain. The painted soldiers that once adorned its base have long since faded, their tales lost to the sands. The base is chipped, further proving its original task now impossible. Yet people still try to fill it time and time again. And they fail, time and time again.

For the desert doesn't accept just anyone. Those who have been chosen know what they must do. Once the ritual is complete, the de

\°/

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK

[Right.]

[You invited Sal over today.]

KNOCK-KNOCK

['Coming, coming!']

[Looks like the book'll have to wait.]

¡♧¡

[Sal couldn't stay for too long before leaving for dinner, but you still lost an hour or two.]

[Food can wait, where were you...]

\°/

For the desert doesn't accept just anyone. Those who have been chosen know what they must do. Once the ritual is complete, the desert truly comes alive. The sand shifts and flows, forming buildings and pathways. The wax melted upon the fountain's edge creates candles anew.

The Lost Kingdom rises once more.

Three men walk through the desert. One short and hefty, one tall and willow-thin. One a swordsman, one a master of nature. The weeks of walking come as second nature to the twins.

As high noon strikes, the merchants reach their destination. A weathered fountain, one with the desert. The third man is released, only to be handed a wicked dagger. After a moment's hesitation, the man kneels over the fountain and slits his own throat.

The two remaining watch without sympathy as the sacrifice slowly bleeds out. It's all part of the job, after all. Once the fountain has been filled with the man's blood, the sands begin to ripple as they always do.

Mourning their brother can wait. The twins have goods to sell, and so long as they can track down the next sacrifice, they can always visit him.

Deep in the desert, a kingdom resides. The king is kind and just, and his subjects live well. The desert kingdom is all that remains of a once flourishing world, and its residents have accepted that fact.

But one day, the rhythm of everyday life was thrown out of whack when three men arrived in the town square. Two wore long purple cloaks that rustled and clinked as they moved, while the third wore clothes more fit for the desert, a simple tunic and pants.

The cloaked men were merchants, it would seem, as the rustling and clinking came from an assortment of bottles, crops, money, and gadgets stored in hidden pockets and straps. Regardless of profession, something was off about the two.

One seemed constantly on guard, opting to silently trade whilst making sure the third man never left his sight. The tall one was sociable, but no less strange. His breathing was...almost too uniform, and a faint tick-tick-ticking could be heard when he opened his cloak.

When they left the town, a faint shimmering could be seen-

Once again, the Desert Kingdom awoke with strange goods and no memory of how they were acquired. It almost looked like there was an extra house, but that wasn't possible. The kingdom was all that's left of the world, and that was just fine.

The twins walked in silence, as no conversation was needed. They had made this journey many times before, and will make it many more, so they knew what to do. Besides, talking would make them thirsty faster.

Only when the sun had set did they sit around a campfire and talk as brothers do. Anyone passing by (though nobody ever would) could hear the joyous tune of a violin and the twangy snap of a small guitar framing the intertwined voices of the twins.

They had lost many friends and family over the years, but it came with the job. Besides, all they needed was each other, walking through the desert during the day and falling asleep to a ticking heart come the moonlight.

For life in the desert was cruel. As is trading with the Kingdom of Souls, and as will it be forevermore.

\°/

[Was this not a children's storybook?!]

[What parent would read that to their child in good conscience??]

[What child could listen to such a story and sleep without night terrors??]

[Even the air around you seems disappointed, though that's likely from a lack of sleep.]

[You suppose it doesn't matter, as you likely have the last copy of the book.]

[You sit at your desk with a sigh, already having accepted you'll be pulling yet another all-nighter.]

[The usual thoughts of how many others are likely doing the same don't plague your mind tonight.]

[It's like second nature for you at this point, and you can't bring yourself to feel sympathy.]

[You're more focused than other times, and you've finished before it's even 11:00.]

[You don't need to proofread. You already know you'll get an A.]

[The safety doesn't feel as strong as it has since that night in the woods, but it doesn't matter.]

[All you need is yourself, anyway.]