Saviour

Great Desert of Skulls

Tarmen opened his eyes slowly and a wave of nausea and pain washed over him. He could see the sun was high in the sky, but behind his back he saw dark robe streched between two small poles at an angle, creating a small shade for his head.

Something cold was laying across his face, he tried to move his hand up but stopped in pain. He looked down at his arm, and the red soaked bandaged wrapped around the biceps. He remembered how the scimitar pierced through it. That arm would never be the same again.

He tried sitting up again and a shadow fell across him. The young witch stood looking down speaking to him.
"Rest." She seemed to tell him as she knelt and gave him some water.

She said one last word before Tarmen felt his conscience slip away again.
"Thanks."