Rebirth

Nidge Darkfold sits quietly in the new infirmary beneath the palace in Klima. All is quiet and it is very early. The last of the kajiri has just headed off to the kennel and the Free are sleeping soundly. The night air of the desert is cold but the stone room in which he sits is still giving up the heat of the day so the temperature is comfortable.

The head physician sits at his desk; he is writing his journal as he does when he is unable to sleep. The surface of the ink shimmers in the lamp light as he dips his pen in to it, stirring the deep blackness as his thoughts and memories stir in his mind.

"The excavation and rebuilding of Klima continues. The terrible sandstorm that almost destroyed us is a memory. A few people were lost. Others have returned from the past. Still more have found their way to our home."

Nidge sits in quiet contemplation for a moment. He end of the pen plays along his lower lip as he is lost on his thoughts. Grateful that his boy was unharmed. Grateful that the Home Stone was recovered. Grateful he still has a home with the people he cares for more than he ever shows. Nidge adjusts his posture in the chair; it is basic and not the most comfortable but it is his. His eyes wander almost sightlessly around his possessions.

"My life seems to be an endless round of slave exams and completing scrolls. At least I have not had to perform skin grafts or jaw surgery since he recovered from the sandstorm as was the case when we were visited daily by one attacker. There have been threats from a number of outlaw groups but nothing has transpired from any of them...save for a few flags and some bosk dung. Quite why anyone would haul a bag of dung hundreds of pasangs just to leave it littered around Klima is beyond me. Perhaps some people should consider their motives and actions before carrying them out. At least when I made the journey to their home to return the favour, there were bosk in the lands so the dung was fresh."

Nidge closes the journal, puts down the pen and settles back in the hard, uncomfortable chair. He smiles softly to himself.

Sands of Time (IC)

Nidge Darkfold wakes with a start. The noise around him is becoming increasingly loud. The air is thick with sand. He swiftly wraps a scarf around his face and dresses in the darkness as best he can. The physician searches the room in vain for his boy. Heading downstairs to the infirmary, the air is clearer and he takes a moment to compose himself. He keeps calling out, but no one responds.

As he stands alone in the dark, Nidge suddenly becomes aware of the silence. The air stirs gently. In the distance, there is a low rumbling sound. The sound begins to grow in volume. He races upstairs and searches the room for his boy; there is no sign of him. Nidge rushes back downstairs, across the infirmary and opens the doors. Sand flows in to the room as he opens the doors. Nidge is frozen to the spot for a few Ehn as he stares out at the devastation that has befallen the city. He calls out a few times, realising he is now shouting to be heard over the roar of the approaching wave of the sandstorm. There is no answer; just the sound of the driving wind.

Scrambling frantically in the sand to clear enough to allow the doors to close, Nidge then takes shelter under his sturdy desk. He curls in to a tight ball with his arms wrapped around his head. "This is it", he thinks. A few Ihn later the storm hits the city walls with a sound similar to an explosion. Outside the infirmary, the storm rages. Wind and sand batter the opulent buildings. The doors of the infirmary give way under the onslaught of the elements; the noise is deafening.

The physician of Klima crawls out from under his half buried desk once he is confident the storm is over. He walks to the doorway and looks out. If anyone was there to see him, they would see a man pale with shock. What is not buried in sand is devastated. Nidge stumbles through the city for some time, looking for any signs of life. Perhaps they fled. Perhaps they are buried. He has no way to tell. He is for all intents and purposes alone in a dead city.

Nidge returns to the remains of the infirmary and gathers some supplies; books and medical supplies. He bundles them in to a cloth before heading out to the tavern. Nidge takes whatever he can find from the tavern cupboards and adds the supplies to those in his bundle. He makes sure he has plenty of water. The journey ahead of him will be hard, but he has no choice. Nidge sets out on foot across the Tahari.

Friendship Rekindled (IC)

Nidge Darkfold stands in his home above the infirmary in Klima and looks out across the city. His eyes wander over the warrior's hall, the office of the Scribes and on to the tavern. The physician has just risen from his furs and shivers in the cool air of the desert morning. He turns and looks down at his boy sleeping soundly still. A smile creeps across his face slowly, like the sun spreading out across the face of the city.

A cloud passes over Nidge's mind; he thinks of those that have fled the storms and how the sand seems to have erased almost every trace of them. Almost every trace - they will live in his mind and in his heart for as long as he continues to be. So many people have passed through his life, like grains of sand falling from his hand in the Tahari. Nidge closes his eyes for a moment, not wishing to weep for those lost as it would dishonour all of the times he spent with those great people.

The sun finally reaches Nidge and the warmth of it on his skin brings him back to the present momentarily before thoughts of the past claim him once more. He moves quietly across the room, glancing down at the sleeping boy who has come to mean so much to him. Nidge's eyes scan the shelves of the bookcase, searching for an old companion. He picks up a leather bound book and lightly brushes away the sand from it. It is the journal in which he used to record his thoughts, feelings and the events of his life. Clutching the book to his chest like one would embrace a long lost friend, he smiles again.

Nidge slips quietly down to the infirmary to sit at his desk. Opening the book to a fresh page, he dips his pen in the ink and begins to write...ignoring the previous entries...the past.

"I have not visited these pages for a long time. Much has happened. I was alone. I found someone that I came to love dearly. I was alone again. The city grew and changed beyond all recognition. People came. People left. I collared a boy and had to send him away for his own protection. My brother returned to me...was collared...and died as a slave. I found another boy; a boy who sleeps close by me at this moment in time. A boy I will protect with my life."

The physician closes his eyes and rests his head back in his chair. His mind is awash with all the things he wants to write but is afraid to face. So much pain. So much death. He still has strange dreams about being lost in the darkness. The people he has lost. The cities he has seen engulfed by disaster. Tears flow silently down his face.