Chapter 8: The Warrior's Vision

The incandescent desert sun was descending, dazzling reds and oranges filling the sky as night began to assert its reign. On the horizon, the silhouette of the Darai warriors loomed, their lanterns burning, dancing in the flickering night breeze. The eldest among them, a man with weathered skin and scars gracing his rugged face, was named Dakarai.

He was a warrior, forged in the harsh conditions of the desert, a survivor and protector of the Darai tribe. Seeing a young boy with dark hair and sunburned skin, he couldn't help but frown.

"Why would Yoren and Elia allow such a young child to participate in the night hunt?" he thought to himself.

Dakarai approached Solren, who was now seven years old, her small frame firmly holding her wooden spear. The boy looked up, his blue eyes filled with determination.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Solren?" Dakarai asked, the tone of him trying to dissuade the young man.

Solren nodded, his face serious. "I want to learn, I want to be useful to the tribe."

The young man's words made the veteran warrior smile grudgingly. There was something in Solren's tone that was more like an adult's than a child's. He decided then, that he would guide Solren, allowing him to participate in the hunt, but keeping him safe.

...…

Under the dark cloak of night, with the stars as their only guide, the hunting party moved stealthily across the desert. Solren moved gracefully, the sand crunching softly under his feet. Beside him, Dakarai watched, evaluating his every move.

The stillness of the desert was overwhelming, you could hear the crunch of the sand, the soft murmur of the wind and the beating of your own heart. They were in the domain of the nocturnal beings, those who wake up after the sun has set.

"Solren, at night, everything is different," Dakarai said quietly. "Predators become prey and vice versa. Here, the strong survive, and the weak die. You understand?"

"I understand," Solren replied with a determined voice.

Dakarai nodded and pointed into the distance. A shadow moved among the dunes, a diffuse silhouette under the moon. It was a Desert Basilisk, one of the most dangerous creatures in the Red Desert.

"See that, Solren?" Dakarai asked, his voice no higher than a whisper. "That's a Desert Basilisk. Even a seasoned warrior would have a hard time facing it. If you ever come across one alone, run away."

Solren nodded, imprinting Dakarai's words on his mind. Despite his youthful body, his eyes reflected maturity and wisdom beyond his years.

...…

The magnitude of the Desert Basilisk was absolutely overwhelming. Their undulating forms blended with the desert sand, their scaly skin reflecting the moonlight, creating a mirage illusion. The creature was a sandy shade that defied the very essence of the desert, its body covered in scales that seemed to be carved from stone, forming impenetrable armor. Although the smallest of its kind was said to be around 15 meters, the largest could reach 50 meters, a monstrous wingspan that defied comprehension.

Solren could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the beast. This creature was the true master of the desert, a force of nature in which even the bravest warriors would be humbled.

After spending hours studying the Basilisk from a safe distance, Dakarai finally gave them the signal to withdraw. They had averted the threat of the gigantic creature and, at the same time, had identified several potential prey for future hunts.

The journey back to the village was uneventful, interrupted only by the occasional conversation between the warriors. Reaching the edge of the tribe's territory, Dakarai stopped beside Solren, her sharp gaze fixed on the vast expanse of desert beyond.

"Solren," he began, his voice heavy with gravity, "you may one day have to face creatures like the Desert Basilisk. It is not a beast you can defeat with brute force. Strategy and intelligence will be your greatest allies." ."

Dakarai paused, studying Solren carefully. Despite the seriousness of his message, a soft smile spread over his face. With a friendly nod, he patted Solren's shoulder, adding, "But I'm convinced you've got what it takes. You've got good instincts, Solren. I'm sure you'll make a great warrior."

Solren's chest swelled with determination and pride at those words. He had pledged his heart and soul to protect his people, his Darai tribe, and to honor the teachings of the warriors who were leading him on this path. This world was drastically different from where he came from, but each day, he felt more rooted in it, more part of the fabric of it.

.....

Returning to the tribe, Solren was greeted with hugs and smiles of relief. He had been out of sight of his loved ones all day, and his absence had troubled many. But the fact that he had returned safely, having learned a valuable lesson, allayed his worries.

During dinner, everyone listened attentively as Dakarai narrated his encounter with the Desert Basilisk. Despite the seriousness of the subject, he managed to inject humor into his narration, drawing laughter from everyone. The tension melted away, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and unity that was innate to the Darai.

As the elders continued to chat, Solren wandered off for a moment alone. He walked to the edge of the camp, where the firelights battled against the desert darkness.

He looked out into the vastness of the desert, to where he had seen the Basilisk. Even though the beast was out of sight, Solren could feel its presence in the back of his mind. It was a latent threat, a challenge he knew he would have to face in the future.

In his previous world, he had never faced something so imposing. But here, in this new world, the rules were different. The challenges were bigger, more real. But so were the rewards.

As the desert wind blew softly around her, Solren felt a renewed sense of purpose. He had chosen this path, he had chosen to be part of the Darai tribe, and he had chosen to face the challenges of this world.

With that resolve firmly rooted in his heart, Solren turned back to the camp, to his family. He didn't know what the future held for him, but he was willing to face it head on.