Bloodshed in the desert
Aug 30, 2024 20:36:05 GMT
Post by Gentleman on Aug 30, 2024 20:36:05 GMT
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky bled a deep crimson, as if mirroring the violence that had stained the sands below. In the vast, golden expanse of the desert, a grim tableau lay frozen in time—a caravan of Aserai people, once vibrant with life and purpose, now reduced to lifeless forms strewn across the dunes. Their bodies, mutilated and unburied, bore the marks of a barbaric slaughter, a brutal end to what had likely been a journey of hope or necessity.
The animals and horses that had faithfully accompanied them shared the same fate, their lifeless bodies scattered amidst the carnage. The wind, once a gentle caress on their skin, now blew cold and indifferent, beginning its slow work of erasing the evidence of the massacre. Grains of sand, carried by the unforgiving breeze, started to cover the remains, as if the desert itself sought to conceal the horror that had unfolded.
The stillness of the scene was punctuated only by the whisper of the wind and the soft trickle of sand, a silent witness to the bloodshed that had stained this day. The red sky, now fading into darkness, served as the only eulogy for the fallen—a stark reminder that in the harsh wilderness of the desert, life and death often walked hand in hand.
Whispers spoke of well-equipped riders in cloaks of dark red, who struck with lethal precision before vanishing into the dunes. No one knew their origin, but the crimson they wore matched the bloodshed they left behind.
