The First Dance of Rapsamash

The sun bore down with an unbearable intensity. Her confidence in their ability to reach the longed-for city waned. Doubts about its very existence began to creep in. Their water supply was nearly depleted, her throat a desert in itself, but that was the least of her worries. The primary concern was Arti. The girl had been unconscious for a long time. Only her intermittent, erratic, and feeble breaths, barely discernible against the traveler’s fur, served as a reminder that the child, so fragile on her back, was still alive. Arti... Without her, they would never have escaped the city, now a fiery inferno. They wouldn’t be traversing these dunes, heading towards the horizon, towards the mythical bay from their mother’s tales. Without Arti, she would be lying in some alley of Derinrond, pierced by arrows or torn apart by dogs. Or worse, thrown back into the mines, and then into the cage.

If it weren’t for Arti...

— R... R-r-a..a..

— Arti!

The traveler halted, carefully and swiftly lowering the girl from her back. Cradling the weakened body, she laid it on her lap, her cloak spread over the scorching sand beneath. Removing the hood that shielded her from the relentless sun, she looked into the sky-blue eyes of her sister. Their mother’s eyes.

— Arti, hold on! I beg you! I’ll give you water now.

— R-a-a...

Arti’s lips, dry and bloodless, barely moved. The girl reached out a feeble hand to touch her sister, but the motion stopped abruptly, her face contorting in pain.

— Quiet! Quiet! You must hold on, do you hear? You were so eager to see the city by the bay! Remember, Mama said everyone is welcome there. Remember? We’ll be welcome too, and we’ll be completely free. We’ll have our own home, as big as you wanted. You and I will live there. There will be as much food as you want! Sweet fruits, cool water! I will get us there. Just hold on, okay?

The girl’s tail twitched slightly. The traveler squeezed the last drops from the water skin, trying to give them to her sister. Things were dire. She felt the fur on her hand, supporting the girl’s back, dampen. The wounds had reopened. She shouldn’t have removed those arrows. Uncle Sangar had warned...

— R-a... R-a-aps...

— Arti? Arti!

The girl’s head fell weakly to the side. The gaze of her blue eyes drifted off into the distance, towards the horizon. Towards where the longed-for city was supposed to be.

— No, no, no! Arti! Arti!!

The traveler gently shook her little sister’s battered and weakened body. The glassy eyes continued to stare into the distance, unblinking. She pressed her ear to her chest — silence.

— Arti... no... Arti!

Tears welled up in the corners of the traveler’s bright orange eyes. Holding her sister close, she sobbed quietly, repeating her name over and over. Despair, which had been lying in wait, finally claimed its victim. Raps, baring her teeth, let out a roar, channeling all her remaining rage and pain into the sound. Breathing heavily, she alternated her gaze between the horizon and the lifeless body of her sister in her arms. Should she follow her? Swiftly drawing her magical dagger and holding it to her throat with both hands, she hesitated. Her gaze moved to Arti before lowering her weapon.

— If you can do anything... If you’re capable of it...

The blade of the dagger, adorned with faintly glowing blue runes, shimmered, reflecting the rays of the sun that seemed to hover directly above the traveler.

— Do it. Take what you want. Give Arti back to me. Do you hear me? Do you hear me?? Do you hear me?!

Raps transitioned to a scream, holding the dagger in outstretched hands. Nothing happened.

— Why... Why me? Why am I alive, and she’s not?! Give her back to me!!

Her throat ached sharply, and she started coughing, not letting go of the dagger.

— I beg all the gods, old ones and new ones... If you hear me...

Speaking and breathing became more difficult, her chest felt as if it was being squeezed, her vision blurred. She finally felt the burning air of the desert in her lungs.

— If you hear me... give... Arti... back to me...