The desert stretched endlessly in every direction, dust from the sand rising in the air.The air shimmered under the weight of the sun, distorting the horizon like water that wasn't there.
Joya walked on, her bare feet sinking into sand so hot it felt like fire. She tried to keep her pace steady, but her legs trembled with each step, muscles screaming from hours of relentless marching.
Then suddenly she crouched down, landing on the sand with a thud, sweat glistening on her face. She tore a piece of material from her gown, then tied it on her feet.
She turned around and saw Merlin trudging behind her, like a walking corpse. The two women that had survived with them were far behind.
Her throat was parched beyond pain. Every breath dragged in air so dry it seemed to pull the moisture from her lungs. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and the faint taste of blood lingered from where she had bitten her cracked lips.
She kept her eyes low, squinting against the stabbing glare of sunlight reflecting above the sky.
The water bag tied around her hip was useless now, an empty metal shell knocking against her side with each weary step. Her shadow was short and dark, telling her the sun was at its peak. No mercy. No reprieve.
Her knees buckled, and she stumbled forward, catching herself on trembling arms.
Merlin held on to Joya, her blue eyes peering at her.
"We can't give up; we have to keep moving." Merlin said, bringing out the last source of water, the water bag was trapped across her waist, covered up by her dress.
She opened it and then brought it to Joya's chapped lips. Joya's thirst was quenched like burning coals extinguished.Merlin also brought the water bag to her mouth and then drank the last drop.
For a while they sat on the ground, sliding into her sleeves, sticking to her sweatless skin. They sat there for a moment, head drooping, breathing in shallow gasps.
"Wouldn't it have been better to be captured as slaves than die in the desert like this?" Merlin cried out bitterly, slowly staggering up to her feet. She stretched her hand, and Joya took it and then steadily rose to her feet.
"Don't say that, Merlin. I would rather die than endure a lifetime of hard labor by those merciless men." Joya wiped the beads of sweat on her face with the back of her palms.
The world felt distant—sounds muffled, vision hazy. Somewhere in the emptiness, a low rhythmic thud began to echo. At first, Joya thought it was her heartbeat in her ears. Then it grew louder. Closer.
They both lifted their heads simultaneously. Over the ridge from a distance, dark shapes emerged, more like shadows. Tall, swaying shapes, camels.
A line of them, three in number, moving quickly, their riders dressed in loose, flowing cloth the color of the sand itself.
Panic sparked weakly in Merlin's chest. But Joya had a contrary reaction; more than anything, she was glad and thankful.
"Thank the gods." Joya said, shutting her eyes, then lifting her face to the sky above.
The men on camels moved with the silent precision of hunters closing on prey. One camel broke from the line, surging towards their direction, followed by another.
The rider swung down before the animal had even stopped. One of the men made his way to Joya.
She barely had time to inhale before rough hands grabbed her arms. A coarse sackcloth descended over her head, cutting off the blinding sun, replacing it with the suffocating smell of dust and old fabric.
Merlin's eyes shone in astonishment, but she was next. The other men who had just swung down from his camel started making their way to her.
Melin turned around to run, but the sand beneath her feet betrayed her; she stumbled and fell, her face kissing the dust. Before she could turn around, a sackcloth descended over her head.
She thrashed weakly, but her strength was gone. The world outside became muffled voices and the grunt of camels.
Joya's feet left the ground; she was lifted and slung over the side of a saddle by the camel rider.The sway of the camel's gait rocked her helplessly, the sack shifting against her face.
The heat under the cloth was stifling, and darkness pressed in from every side. The riders turned the camel around with practiced ease; the thud of hooves faded into the desert distance as the camel started moving.
When Joya heard the distant echo of clustered voices, she immediately knew she was in a place filled with people. Just then the rider came down from his camel.
"I have a new catch; she looks well fed. 300 silver coins would do." The rider said, "Loosen Joya from the camel," and she dropped to the ground like a lifeless body.
The sackcloth was removed, and she could now clearly see what was happening. A small gasp escaped her lips when she looked around the city.
It was simply breathtaking, and even from where she stood, she could see the high pyramidal structure of the palace of Hamstung. But when she focused her gaze on the harsh reality that was in front of her, her face fell.
Two eyes were peering at her, a pair of eyes from the rider who captured her and the other from a man who was scanning her from head to toe.
"250 golden coins is what I wager." The man's accent was fluent. He turned to look at the camel rider for approval, and the rider didn't disappoint.
"Add her to the batch in the carnaval." The man ordered as he took out a bag of coins and then threw it at the rider. In a split second Joya was lifted from the ground, her feet kicking in the air.
"Let…let go of me." She struggled, yanking and pulling, then a whip descended on her back, and she cried in pain, the pain stinging her skin, leaving a faint redness.
She was thrown into a carnival, and it started moving. Inside the carnival were other young girls like herself. Joya shut her eyes as fate slapped her hard in the face; the one thing she had tried to escape found her. She had been sold into slavery.
When the worn-out wooden tires of the carnival came to a stop. A man opened the back of the carnival, and all the girls were led out; they were distributed to people in the village looking for docile servants.
The girls were simply hawked around like useless objects. By the time it was evening, Joya and three other women were led back into the carnival; they were the only ones remaining. No one refused to buy them.
The carnival rolled down the gravel streets, passing through dark alleys and busy roads. The carnival came to a stop for the second time, and the same man opened the back of the carnival and bundled the girls out.
Joya's eyes were swollen, and she coughed violently. But when she raised her gaze for a second, her heartbeatceased. Was this heaven on earth? She must have wondered.
For a moment, the weight of her chains seemed to vanish as her gaze lifted. The palace loomed before her—its pillars tall and proud, catching the sun, which was setting.
Her eyes traced the columns slowly, taking in every curve, every carved symbol etched deep into the stone. Above them, wide balconies stretched out, their railings curled out, watching over the city as if they had always been there.
The walls were a tapestry of color, faded in places, yet still rich with the glory of ancient times.
She had heard whispers of this place from other slaves, but standing here, the sheer amusement pressed against her chest. It was not just a building—it was power, permanence, a reminder of how small and fleeting her own life was.
Somewhere inside, people walked on polished marble floors, voices echoing in halls perfumed with incense. Out here, she could only watch. But that was about to change.
The voice of a man jolts her back to reality. She watched as the man received a coin from one of the male servants working in the palace.
The male servants then walked up to her.
"You will work here from now onwards. You will be assigned to a mistress; loyalty is a pinnacle here. If your masters find you loyal, you will survive; if otherwise…you seek death." The male servant says to Joya and the other three girls standing behind her.
He turned around and started walking away, and they all followed him from behind. As Joya drew closer to the palace's giant open double doors, she began to see how lucky she was to have not been sold to commoners.
She had seen the way girls cried under the whip of their master's back at the village.
Yes! While the men hawked them for sale, her eyes saw things, suffering. And even among all that suffering, there were still people faring well. The women here were beautiful, with a mélange ofon their necks, waists, nose piercings, and jingling anklets.
Immediately Joya's feet stepped on the cold floor of the palace, the interior coming into view, her fate changing drastically before her… She knew it was a new beginning.