Part One - Death

  Chapter 1

  Grime awoke from an involuntary nap with no less than three nagging issues on his mind. Firstly, he’d fallen asleep in the back of a wagon - which most of us know is a bumpy, rib-rattling, overall wholly unpleasant experience. The awkward angle he’d found his head at on waking meant his neck would be stiff and cracking for days. He did, however, count himself lucky that he was no longer able to be sunburned, as he’d been flat out in the scorching heat of the Begginings for what felt like hours.

  Secondly, he’d inadvertently rolled onto his only waterskin during his restless doze. The hot dust of the road had become a thick, gritty mud now stuck to his already filthy clothing, matting into the back of his rough grey linen pants and tunic. The rope he was using as a belt was caked with the grime and sodden wet, causing the moisture to creep around his waist and into the front of his outfit.

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  “Absolutely beautiful” he croaked to himself. The inside of his mouth felt so dry and hard that he briefly entertained the idea of unashamedly sucking the moisture from the rope belt, only stopping to reconsider when he remembered the teamster driving this particular wagon had almost refused him on the spot due to his ragged appearance - something he didn’t want to reinforce by having the man (man?) turn around and see him squeezing muddy belt-water down his gullet.

  Watching the formless horizon of red sand shimmer under the watchful gaze of the yellow-orange sun, he saw a patchy white and black bird lazily fly by, wings of bone whistling on the wind - this abruptly caused his third issue to come careening back into focus.

  He was dead.