Week One
The Last Drop
The desert does not care how brave you are. It does not care about dreams of treasure, ancient ruins, or songs waiting to be written. It only cares whether you have water.
Treebreeze wiped the sweat from his brow as he trudged over another sun-scorched sand dune. Tall and lean, the young fighter shifted the weight of the great two-handed sword across his shoulders. The sword, Slayer, had belonged to his father, a warrior whose stories had filled Treebreeze’s childhood. Someday, he hoped to have stories of his own to tell and to wield the great sword with the same confidence and strength his father once had. Today, it mostly made his shoulders ache.
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Week Two
Behind the Falls
The waterfall thundered before them, its cool mist washing away the heat of the desert.
Treebreeze stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the shadow hidden behind the curtain of water.
“You were right,” Tilly whispered. “There’s something back there.”
Tilly stepped closer, shielding her eyes from the spray.
“It’s a cave.”
A grin spread across Treebreeze’s face.
“Our first real discovery.”
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Week Three
The Refuge
Treebreeze paused and slipped his pack from his shoulders. "It's too dark to go any farther," he said quietly. He knelt, loosened the flap, and reached inside until his fingers found the brass lantern nestled among his supplies. Drawing it out, he struck flint against steel.
Clink... hiss...
The wick caught, and a warm amber glow slowly pushed back the darkness. Flickering light danced across the damp stone walls, revealing a narrow passage that stretched ahead before disappearing around a gentle bend.
Tilly smiled. "Much better."
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