PART 3.

He was in the realm of Sand.

His presence there was like a tiny drop in the middle of a cataclysmic storm. Although he could have nobility in his blood and descend from brave and honorable people, in that place the true sovereign was the Sand.

I smelled the desert with every breath, and I felt its movement in the wagon as it went. The soft, slow swaying of the wood, accompanied by the rattle, caused the objects inside to move with a calmness that contrasted with the chaos outside.

That wagon was not luxurious or ostentatious, nor was it a princess's room. However, it was still their refuge; the place where I shared memories with that special person.

The curtains had a soft and warm tone, reminiscent of the brick pink that still lingered among her belongings. Although she was no longer a toddler, she enjoyed having a variety of interesting objects that evoked the beauty of moments shared with her mother.

Various decorations hung from the ceiling, jingling with the movement of the cart. The sound of camels echoed, and sand seeped through the heavy curtains.

His little "room" consisted simply of a bed inside the moving wagon. However, she tried to keep it as minimalist as possible so as not to make those who offered to share a chat with her uncomfortable.

The few toys that had survived the passage of time adorned the corners of the space, while she concentrated on the soft melody she hummed to herself.

The sounds of the outside were intertwined with his song, forming a rhythmic chorus that did not disturb his quiet song of longing. Every note that emerged from her lips seemed to merge with the movements of her fingers, which caressed her reddish hair without a single curl out of place.

Afterward, he stepped back to get a better view of his torso in the small mirror. With an almost enviable calmness, he adjusted his ready-made clothes and lightly tightened the ribbon around his waist. He did not miss the opportunity to clean the sand that had crept into his modest home.

His hand paused for a moment as it reached his chest. He knew that his brief moment of solitude had come to an end, and he stood still for a few seconds before making sure everything was in order. A pleasant serenity, without any pressure, was reflected in the noble and jovial young woman, who dedicated herself to traveling her windy country in the best possible way.

At sixteen, Sara had taken on the role her mother had once played, when she was exactly the same age.

Long ago, the beautiful lands that her grandmother had ruled with prestige had crumbled and turned into ruins over the decades. It was her daughter, Sarah's mother, who continued that leadership, serving everyone as queen without the need for a castle or dress to demonstrate her authority.

Sharing the same name as her mother, Sarah led her people, who treated her as their princess. From a young age, she had been cared for when her mother was called by the heavens at a very young age. Here, she had more than one mother, more than one father and brothers, as well as grandfathers, grandmothers and older sisters.

Everyone here is more than subjects or followers. They are his family.

Their well-being was her priority, not only because she was their queen, but because her world would simply fall apart if her family wasn't with her. His brothers and sisters meant everything for his amusement, his grandparents for wisdom, and his parents for equality.

Everyone had a reason to be around her, and she wanted to make sure she always kept it that way. For this reason, she promised herself never to fail them as their queen.

This trip was just one of many made by the more than forty wagons that followed it.

"Good morning." The young woman greeted her, radiant, pulling aside the pink curtain of her cart. She inhaled the fresh desert air she had always known since she was a child, and enjoyed the familiar peace that permeated it. "It seems to be a good day today, don't you think?"

A man walking beside her wagon was surprised to see her and smiled warmly back from the sandy ground.

"Good morning, Sara-sama. Did you rest well?" He greeted him. His face and presence were more than familiar to her. 

When Sara, the sixteen-year-old girl, nodded in response, the man's walk seemed to become calmer, as if the fact that she had rested well was enough for him. As would the father she never got to know.

Sara looked everywhere, observing the familiar scenery that stretched out before her. The yellow of the desert filled his view, complemented by a variety of colors that unfolded to his left, like reflections of the intense morning sunlight.

His wagon led the long line of caravans led by camels. Although these animals were rarely seen as mere pack animals, to Sara they were much more than that. They were part of his family, raised specifically for this job.

For as long as she could remember, Sara had traveled all over the windland. When her parents met, her mother was already immersed in this journey, taking care of her own people who lived clandestinely and peacefully.

Ever since she could understand her surroundings, her mother had spoken to her about the importance of these people to her. With no fixed place to stay and being part of every corner, all of Roran's descendants were one family.

As her mother's daughter, Sarah had a duty to protect and respect them as such.

To everyone, she was "Sara-sama."

It had always been like this. Even if she longed for a more intimate closeness, she would never be called anything else.

"Today is blowing more breeze than usual..." Sara commented, scanning the skies in search of any anomaly. 

"Yes... maybe it's because we're moving away from the mountainous areas, Sara-sama." replied the man closest to her, also scanning the horizon for signs. 

Sara looked at him with an innocent curiosity on her face, and the man let out a slight laugh when he noticed it.

"All lands teem with life, Sara-sama. And when we leave the confines behind, natural energy flows freely." Explained the man, dressed in clothes of dull colors and with a scarf tied on his head. He had been walking for hours. "It may sound strange, right?"

"No!" Sara quickly denied. "It's not that, it's just that I've never heard anything like that."

"Oh... really?" The man opened his eyes slightly, surprised by the answer. That was a revelation to him. "How curious... Didn't your mother, Sarah-sama, tell you similar stories?"

" Stories?"

"Yes, stories that narrate the awakening of the lands."

Sara listened attentively to the man's words without interrupting him. Stories from the most remote past had always been part of their environment, replacing conventional children's stories.

However, she realized that there were many stories that perhaps her mother did not know, as she lost her grandmother at a young age.

Living with his people had given him a large number of fantastic stories that were difficult to believe at first glance. But when those stories were told with the same sincere expression that the man had, it was hard for her not to be captivated by them.

He leaned back in his arms, leaning against the wooden window of his wagon. He could feel that he had expressed some kind of emotion that sparked a connection, as the man didn't feel uncomfortable deciding to share a fragment of what he had mentioned.

Sarah's scarf moved smoothly in the peculiar desert breeze. Its dull green color adorned his face as a symbol of his appreciation, even before his birth. At first glance, no one could imagine that she was the heiress of a city now considered in ruins.

"Ninjas survive thanks to the Chakra. We, ordinary people, even if we are not Shinobi, also live thanks to that same energy. However, we are largely unaware of the extent and importance of the earth's life energy. Very few people can perceive its existence, and of those few, most choose to live in the most hidden parts of nature so as not to disturb its balance."

"Why would it be disturbing, Otto-san?" Sara asked. 

"Well... My grandfather used to say that the world should be in balance, just like society. If there are no poor people, there can be no rich people. For someone to live, someone else must die. The vital balance in nature follows this rule based on equality and wisdom. It should never be manipulated by power. And if someone discovers the secret of nature's vitality, but does not find a worthy descendant to pass on that knowledge, then he is destined to perish without sharing his wisdom. In any case, very few know of its existence in the world."

"I understand... then, learning it would be useless." Sara opined, to which Otto nodded. "It would even be counterproductive, don't you think? If the one who discovers the secrets of vitality does not find a suitable heir, would he not leave us who seek knowledge in a difficult situation?"

Mr. Otto was somewhat surprised by his young Queen's approach. Sara had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and never let a doubt slip away.

"Well... I asked my grandfather something similar at the time." Otto replied. 

Sara looked excited and poked her head out of the window a little more.

"What did he answer you?"

A smile appeared on Mr. Otto's face, a short, black-haired man, always wearing a headscarf. His appearance never changed in Sarah's eyes; He was always busy and needed to wipe away his sweat.

Sara waited patiently for a wise answer as the breeze caressed her skin. The profile of his closest Assistant evoked nostalgic memories, as if he were digging up memories from the back of his mind.

"He told me that you can't always help everyone." Otto said. 

Sara felt as if bubbles of cold air burst on her fingers.

"You see, Sara-sama, this world is vast... Not everything is reduced to the country of wind and desert." The dark-eyed man mentioned, watching the road and adjusting his speed to keep pace with Sara's wagon. "Just as you are willing to help others, there are people who will not help you. Even if you are sixteen years old, even if you come from another country. And there are times when not doing something good for others is, in fact, doing something good for them."

"Others..." Sara whispered, remembering the emotion she used to feel when she heard the stories of her caregivers. "That doesn't seem right..."

"Oh, but you don't need to worry about that, Lady Sara." Otto replied. Just as evil can be interpreted as good, good can also be perceived as evil. "A person can sacrifice himself, doing good for others, but causing harm to himself."

"What kind of logic is that...?"

"I'm sorry if I seem too discouraging, Sara-sama. I beg your pardon for my lack of solemnity." Otto apologized sincerely, reflecting on all the years he had spent caring for Lady Sarah. His words shook Sara out of her reverie, but her mind kept wandering. "Well, that's what the vitality of the land implies, Sara-sama. It is something so complex that it escapes our understanding. Just as good and evil have different meanings for each person, vitality varies in lands devoid of mountains or vegetation. We are in the desert, where the vitality is greater the more desolate the environment. At least, that's what my grandfather used to say."

"Otto..."

Sara was stopped for a moment.

Mr. Otto's words echoed in her mind, enveloping her in a whirlwind of thoughts. At that time, he had no control over his mind or body.

"This world is too big..."

Was he referring to his youth? Was he worried about her for any particular reason? Did he have any idea what Sara was facing at that precise moment?

His body swayed slightly with the wagon's movement, but his gaze was still fixed on Oto. He thought he had found a face and a name that matched the man's words, but he came to no conclusion. They escaped him.

There was something about the way Oto spoke, about his expression... He was similar to someone Sara had met a long time ago, but she couldn't remember who.

An imposing figure in front of the eyes of a younger Sara, standing under a blinding light in the gloom. Although her silhouette was wrapped in fabric and adorned with wooden necklaces, her heart was filled with warmth as she remembered what that figure had given her that night.

It was years ago, shortly after the loss of his mother.

Since then, the desert breezes have always had a special meaning for her.

(~~~)

"Ah! How good it is to take a break!"

"My butt hurts... I need to stretch my legs a bit."

"Me too!"

After two hours of travel, with only a couple of rocks as companions, the inhabitants of Roran stopped their wagons for a well-deserved rest. The youngest children ran out of their makeshift homes on wheels, leaving a trail of tiny, countless footprints in the sand.

The adults began to set up small tents to protect themselves from the sun. After traveling all night, they always took a break for lunch. They drove sticks into the sand to hold the thick cloths that would protect them from the heat, while the elderly were accompanied by their families into the shade.

It was all part of the routine, nothing escaped them.

The sound of pots, men preparing campfires, fabrics fluttering in the wind before being placed on the floor like a large table for food...

Sara had lived this scenario every day of her life and she wouldn't change a thing about it. Although it was a quaint way of life (and I knew it), I would never regret choosing it. He knew other villages and cities with different customs and beliefs, and he understood how different it could be to live as they did in Roran.

But the people of Roran never regretted their lifestyle. They longed for freedom and showed it by living without ties. They never stayed in one place, and from time to time, they would return to the ruins to have Sara check the seal that protected Roran's mysterious power.

Each pause in the journey was an opportunity for Sarah to visit the kingdom that her grandmother and mother loved so much.

Getting out of her wagon, Sara walked to the back of the line of families following her. Whenever they made a stop, he made sure to go all the way to the last wagon, petting each camel and ensuring the well-being of each family.

On her way, she was constantly greeted by children and adults alike. He responded with smiles and short conversations, showing his closeness to his community.

Over time, the community grew. Although camels were sufficient, it often took two to pull three wagons tied in a row. This facilitated mobility between the wagons.

Sara found pleasure in watching her people under the shade of the wagons, knowing that they were comfortable and happy. Every day, it was an opportunity to exercise and talk with them.

"Good morning, Sara-sama!" One of the children playing in the sand greeted happily. 

"Good morning."

"How have you been, Sara-sama?" A young man asked as he lifted the tents. 

"I have been very good, thanks for asking."

"Come and have a drink with us when you can, Sara-sama." A mother asked kindly, as she carried her son in her arms from inside her cart. 

"I'll be there, don't wait too long." The redhead replied, looking back after passing by. 

That morning, Sara went about her usual routine, not skipping any steps. Normally, their ride on the wagons lasted an hour or half an hour at most. He always took the time to immerse himself in people's stories, not rushing until he reached the last wagon.

However, that morning was different.

Finally he reached the last wagon, as usual. He stayed longer than usual, as he felt that, being the last wagon, it was not appropriate to simply say hello and leave without having a proper conversation.

That time, an old woman who sat on her knee under a tent set up by her grandchildren, invited her to sit down. Sara gladly accepted.

The pleasures of life were manifested in these simple moments. Divide your time to be with as many people as you can, sharing special moments. This was one of many he had accumulated, and there would be even more when he retraced his steps.

However, just as she was about to take the third sip of tea, more than one gasp could be heard behind her, and the air temperature dropped sharply.

Sara noticed the paleness on the face of the old woman who was sharing tea with her, which led her to turn to see what was happening.

In a matter of seconds, everything seemed to be silenced in his surroundings.

That man's cloak fluttered in the wind, producing a sound that resounded like an ominous omen for the inhabitants of Roran. His baquero hat, large enough to hide his face, alerted Sara to the danger approaching her.

As the silence spread, the people around him kept a safe distance, fearing the next move.

"The Queen of the vanished City of Rouran, Sara..." The man's voice sounded almost friendly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Young Queen and Heiress of the Seal."

The alert went off all over the world, but especially in Sara's eyes, who immediately got up and stood in front of the trembling old woman behind her.

A look of contempt was reflected on his pale face.

"Who are you? Strange and suspicious people like you are not welcome in my community!"

"Oh...?"

Finally, the man turned to face her directly.

He was in his forties and fifties, with white skin but an ominous presence. Scars ran across his face, from his right eye to his jaw, marking his history of battles and dangers.

His dark, dull clothes made him look like an outlaw, with a hard but expressionless look. Despite that, he managed to engage in a dialogue with Sara, showing a feigned joviality in her presence.

"I understand, I understand. When you mention "community," you mean this caravan show." The man said with a false condescension, clinging to his hat to prevent the wind from blowing it away. "You are quite modest, miss, in distinguishing between the refined and the ordinary at your age. You are an admirable leader. Worthy of respect."

Sara listened to each word without moving from her place. I didn't know what this man was looking for, but I had an intuition of his possible motivations. However, he couldn't just abandon his people and run away.

A growing fear seized her as the man stared at her with his one healthy eye, and instinctively plunged her feet deeper into the sand as she noticed the stillness of the hooded man. He seemed completely calm.

She and her people were the prey of this stranger.

"It's a pity that a young woman like you has such an important position... An adult should make the decisions for you." His words made Sara swallow her dry. "Who would be foolish enough to let himself be governed by a girl?"

Sarah trembled in place as a cascade of thoughts flooded her mind, but she quickly pushed those thoughts away to focus only on the people in her care.

And Sara held back a scream.

"No!"

"Leave Sara-sama alone!"

It all happened in the blink of an eye, too fast for me to issue a warning. Just as he was about to do so, the rumble of the detonation nearly caused his eardrums to explode, triggering a chorus of screams among the people of Roran.

Her legs were no longer responding, leaving her paralyzed as she watched as the man who had intervened in her defense fell to the ground like a bundle of meat. Seeing him collapse, his spouse soon screamed for help, and the threat intensified when the other men realized that their weapons were useless.

Sara's eyes widened.

"This man is...!"

As if he could read her thoughts, the man looked at her between screams and tears. A malicious smile formed on her lips, and an overwhelming terror invaded her completely. She began to sweat, while Sara's mind wandered among the people who cried helplessly, helplessly, unable to do anything else.

The man leaned forward, triggering another collective whisper that warned Sara of the next move. But by the time she noticed the metallic glow on the leather of his hat, it was too late.

On the man's lips, he could discern the words, "I found you."

And then, everything was plunged into darkness, as if a huge abyss swallowed it to the depths of the sea.

And his name was spoken in a last, heart-rending shriek.

(~~~)

In the distance, the sound of the sand was present. It was an unmistakable sound to his ear.

Everything was dark, unable to see or feel anything. His consciousness returned slowly, like a weak flow of water from a hose, as the scent of sand and dirt returned to his senses.

Sara felt the weight of her body and the swaying in her stomach. He had no sensation in his limbs, and at the same time, they felt heavy, unable to move by any external force.

When he finally managed to open his eyes, all he saw was sand. But it wasn't the beautiful, familiar scenery I used to find comforting. It was just sand.

The sand stretched out before her, marked by deep footprints, as blood pulsed in her head. His vision was blurred and a tightness in his chest made it difficult for him to breathe.

It was then, when he saw how the footprints moved away and were replaced by new ones, when he noticed the height from which he was and the impossibility of moving his hands or feet, that he realized the last events he remembered.

She had been kidnapped.

"Did you enjoy your siesta, miss?"

That voice...

It was the same man who had led the attack and fired on his people... himself, the man with the look of a bloodied cowboy.

"Be patient, you won't know my client yet." The man spoke to her as he walked calmly. "First I must make sure that everything is in order."

Sara, regaining consciousness, tried to look beyond her own back, over the hitman's right shoulder, but it was impossible.

His steps were firm and Sara's weight did not represent a problem for the hitman. The journey lasted just a few minutes, during which the redhead constantly wondered how she was going to get out of this situation.

The idea had crossed his mind repeatedly since he started to worry, but he never imagined that they would act so quickly. He didn't even get a chance to get there...

"Hm!"

BOSH.

The young woman was forced to exhale all the air she had left in her lungs when she was thrown on the sandy ground. He could barely mitigate his fall and let out the highest pitch he could emit due to the sudden lack of air.

A stabbing pain took hold of her wrists. He had fallen on them, which were tied just behind his back. Although he was barely regaining consciousness, he could see his ankles and, to his relief, they were not attached like his wrists.

Sara moved between her bonds as best she could to settle in and sit more comfortably. In a silence that seemed endless, her hair got dirty as she tried to free herself. All this in full view of the man who had captured her, knowing that she could lose her life at any moment at his hands.

She sensed his footsteps, which surrounded her with an eerie calm. At that moment, he felt like a mouse in front of a hungry cat. Sara could only keep her head down, not daring to say anything, while keeping her people in mind.

"Eiji-san... he shot Eiji-san with something." He thought. She glanced fearfully out of the corner of her eye at her captor, who was watching her from above, under his hat and cloak. He had the appearance of a refined but dangerous man. "He shot him... when Eiji-san posed no threat."

Sara shuddered, feeling the sand give way under her weight as the man stomped closer, his boots echoing in the silence of the desert.

"But how impolite of me. I haven't introduced myself yet, right?"

The man bowed briefly, taking off his hat, while watching the young Sarah, who looked at him in disbelief.

A cold, piercing gaze examined her from her one functional eye.

"They call me Mezu1. A pleasure, young Queen of Roran."

"M-M-Mezu..."

"That's right." Mezu confirmed the girl's fear. Then, with a false understanding, he asked: "I suppose my name is unknown to you, but... You know exactly what I'm looking for, right?"

Sara's eyes widened. They seemed to want to get out of their sockets at the intensity of Mezu's gaze, and cold sweat began to run through his body.

A whirlwind of memories struck her suddenly, causing a scream to choke in her throat as she rose, ready to flee as quickly as possible.

But to no avail.

Her legs were unresponsive, numb from the time Mezu had carried her, and as she looked around, she realized that she had completely lost sight of the people of Roran.

She was dragged back by the collar of her clothes and violently thrown to the ground, rolling several times on the sand as if it were waste. Each turn hit her with the abrasive texture of the ground, burning and disorienting her even more.

The world revolved around him, colors blended, and sunlight pierced his eyes.

The burning sensation in his back intensified with every second, as he struggled to catch his breath and consciousness. He could only see Mezu, pointing at him with something he couldn't immediately identify, his imperturbable expression.

"I don't know why you're so important or why they want your death. Your history of reign does not interest me in the least, miss." His voice was cold and devoid of emotion, as a click echoed, warning of the gravity of the situation. 

Finally, Sara's semi-conscious mind managed to recognize him as a threat.

"I'm just looking for answers, where's the label?" Mezu's tone was firm, demanding an answer. 

A wave of panic ran through Sara's body. How could this man know about the seal? She had taken every precaution to protect him, even in case she was captured.

"They say you have an important object with you, but don't try to fool me, your tricks won't work on me." Mezu's voice was relentless. 

Sara was overwhelmed by a mixture of confusion and fear. How could he possibly know about the seal? He had meticulously planned to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. But now, in front of Mezu, he was facing a chilling reality.

"How do I know?" Mezu interjected, interrupting Sara's thoughts as she lay dumbfounded on the floor. "You walk around happily with a powerful seal inside your robe. I know you are heading towards the village of bells, miss." Darkness took over Mezu's face, his instinct and bloodlust sent a shiver down the redhead's spine. "Perhaps no one knows what they do there... but we do."

Sara could only remain silent, her heart pounding so hard that she could barely hear her own thoughts. The village of bells... a secret place, known only to a few. How could this Shinobi know his location and secrets?

Trying to keep her composure, Sara awkwardly shifted in her restraints, crawling across the floor. He recalled his mother's stories, the prince's exploits, and the struggles for peace. But among all those memories, Oto-san's words resonated.

He should have known that these moments of remembrance would be an ominous omen. And just when she thought her captor was enjoying her desperation to escape, the sudden appearance of more people around her plunged her into an almost melancholy hopelessness.

" Your teammates?" She asked herself, fighting against the despair that enveloped her. 

But before she could assimilate her defeat, she felt the presence of the first man above her as a dark shadow completely enveloped her. Although his hands were tied, it was difficult for him to turn on his back... but he knew it.

"It is not like a young lady to provoke people." Mezu spat in a slow, ominous tone that seemed to sentence his fate. "We have to get the information out of you the hard way, then, Miss."

Hopelessness invaded her completely. A heat stroke suffocated her, longing for this torment to end her life to avoid what she was about to suffer.

His mind cleared, bringing with him bad news. He wanted to sink into unconsciousness again to escape the reality that was coming.

The circle of dark figures slowly closed around him, like the ticking of a clock that marked the time he had left. He listened to the sound of the Sand, aware that his time was running out and that he would never see his people again: parents, uncles, grandparents, brothers and sisters...

When he closed his eyes, his world was plunged into darkness in an instant. However, this time, he could feel something.

A sharp shake and a firm tug on the back of his clothes. A soft cloth caressed his face and kept it hidden for a few moments. An explosion-like blast lifted the sand, which dispersed in all directions, as gusts of wind embraced it.

Instinctively, he kept his eyes closed, his hands tied behind his back. It felt like a burden, being balanced with almost perfect care. Unlike her captor, who threw her without consideration, this person who was holding her was absolutely careful to prevent her from impacting the ground.

The land completely clouded her surroundings, and she could still feel the enemy presences surrounding her. Her stomach churned with every movement, and when her hair finally managed to flutter in the air, Sara opened her eyes.

The sand bumped against her eyelids several times, and she struggled with herself to see what she really wanted to believe.

A female figure, almost androgynous in appearance, watched the horizon with enviable attention despite the sand in the air. She did not appear to be affected by adverse conditions and remained alert at all times.

The grip on Sara's waist was firm and secure. Despite this, Sara felt a sense of calm as she noticed the unwavering determination on the face of this person, who looked pale and somewhat haggard.

She was stunned.

The figure had a unique beauty, far from conventional perfection. It was an imperfect perfection.

Dirt and sweat covered her body, and Sarah could sense it even when she was close to her.

Being close to the girl, Sara noticed that she was struggling to keep her breathing under control. The twinkle in her eyes and her keen attention to her surroundings indicated that this young woman was already quite exhausted.

Then, something hard pressed against her ribs and Sara turned her gaze there.

Dressed in yellow traveling clothes, an armed and exhausted young woman hid, ready for battle.

It was at that moment that Oto-san's words resounded in Sara's mind.

"A person can sacrifice himself, doing good for others, but harm for himself."

"You don't have to worry about that, Lady Sara."

When the Seal Heir finally understood her situation, the sound of the metal clash filled the entire desert.