The journey took hours, only seeing signs of people minutes before sundown. Their camp was out in the open, surrounded by tall hills that acted as a barrier for the gusts and dustdevils.
By then Pheo had adjusted to the disorientated state he was in, though it still kept him from moving like usual. The camp was full of battered tents of mismatched cloth, with jutting wooden stakes and half-buried remnants of raided caravans scattered around.
Smoke curled lazily from a firepit in the center, people with rough figures and weapons on the ready gathered around. They looked at him with eyes like vultures, cold and calculating.
Pheo was then shoved forward, stumbling on the ground. He looked up to see that he was surrounded, injured at the heart of their territory.
Their eyes were on him, not curious but weighing, as if they were deciding his worth then and there. The camp fell silent, Pheo could only hear the sounds of fire cackling nearby.
Everyone's eyes shifted to a figure approaching from the largest tent, its flap swaying like a curtain before a stage. From it a man emerged with the slow, unbothered confidence of someone who had survived far too much to rush for anyone.
He had sun-dark skin with a lean build that spoke more of speed than strength. His sharp eyes pierced through Pheo, flickering like blades. His hair was tied back with a strip of red cloth, with a worn long knife resting against his hip. Everything about him was stripped down, efficiently.
Pheo knew just from how he moved, he was the person in charge. There was no sneer in his face, no smug smile, just cold calculation as he continued to stare down Pheo.
"Who is this?" He said aloud, asking the bandits nearby. "I brought the invader who kept setting traps in our territory." The man who dragged him there talked.
"The unexpected variable, huh?" He walked over, stopping just a few paces from where Pheo knelt. "I wonder how a young kid survived out here." He asked. "Maybe through the help of an adult. Someone strong enough to wield a greatsword?"
The leader circled him, slow and thoughtfully. Pheo thought about his words until his mind came across someone.
Adam.
The leader smiled seeing Pheo's eyes light up. He always had a grasp on his territory, but since the sky lit up yellow there had been irregularities happening. A man who tore through his men like they were nothing and a mysterious trapper who stole all of their prey.
If he played his cards right, he could hit two birds with one stone. "I only want to live here alone, get by through the days until I'm old enough to get out of your hair." Pheo told him, trying to find a way to get out with words first.
"Sounds like a nice life, but you see you crossed swords with us as soon as you settled in here. In our sands." The bandit leader waved his arms around. "It's probably why you haven't encountered anyone else until now, and it's also why you're here in front of me."
"Really? I didn't know, there weren't any private property signs stopping me." Pheo joked, earning the glares of the bandits watching. The bandit leader remained calm however, still the same look on his face.
"You've got fire in you," he said after looking at him a bit. "I can see that. But fire doesn't ask questions. It just burns. And fire, if not used, gets put out."
Pheo's eyes locked with his. "Then try." The words slipped out before he realized the repercussions. The bandit leader heard it for what it was, not bravado, but defiance.
The bandit leader sighed at his response, disappointment leaked from his facial expressions. "You had a chance," the leader said quietly. "Not to walk out of this place free, but to live."
He didn't raise his voice. Just gestured once. Two bandits then grabbed Pheo, this time rougher. "The desert doesn't need someone like him. Bury him in it." He muttered before going back to his tent.
"You only added fuel to the fire!" Pheo shouted out as they dragged him off to the edge of the camp. He didn't want to see himself grow up to be like them, someone who feeds on others.
The idea was disgusting, as if he was becoming closer to what his father was. If anything, he would rather die than join the likes of him.
Now how the hell do I get out of this?
Pheo had spoken like he was still able to fight earlier, but he was already out of cards to play. The bandits were already seeing him as a dead man, mocking him with their faces and knives.
A bandit then stepped behind him, hands raised holding a giant axe. He had a grin that went from ear to ear, one that would make anyone flinch.
Pheo realized he only had seconds left to act as he swung his axe at his neck. He quickly slammed his shoulder to the bandit's leg. It made him curse out loud, stumbling back as he tried to get back his balance.
The act of rebellion was quickly caught on by the others, making them move to end his life. One of them lunged forward with a knife, but his swing was wide and careless.
In his overconfidence, he'd left his stance wide open. Pheo used his weight and drove his elbow into his stomach, making him drop his blade.
"Just catch the damn brat!" He shouted as he held his stomach, trying to cope with the pain. Pheo scattered his hands to the ground, struggling to grab the knife.
As he grabbed the knife from the ground, he could hear the footsteps coming closer and closer.
It's my chance to leave.
Pheo darted to the side, avoiding the two bandits right next to him and running off blindly to the desert. He ran in a zigzag, weaving himself across the broken debris around the camp to avoid the eyes of the bandits.
He spotted a ridge, one of the natural defenses the camp had. He tried to climb it, his lungs burning as he scrambled to escape like a trapped animal. After constantly slipping through the sand and loose rocks, he finally made it to the top.
Pheo barely managed to avoid a volley of arrows as he ducked, some of them landing in the nearby sand. He still wasn't in the clear, there were still people after him. Looking forward, he was sure that they wouldn't follow him.
Dozens of dust devils were in the area, constantly fading and appearing. It was chaotic, the sand mixing with the air. Knowing that it was his only chance to survive, Pheo braced himself before disappearing into the storm.
It felt like moving through chaos itself. It made him feel even more disorientated, every movement he did was met with resistance. The wind didn't just blow, it screamed at him, ripping apart his clothes and forcing sand into every crease of his body.
Each step he took felt like he was wading through a river of smoke and ash. The ground was constantly shifting under his feet, the landscape constantly reshaping the terrain around him.
Pheo had no sense of direction there, his left and right blurring together. Even his footsteps quickly vanished, erased as if he wasn't even there. The storm wasn't just crushing him physically, but also mentally.
It was then that he understood just how cruel the Badlands were. Pheo thought that it was just exaggerated after living there himself, but he had realized he was only living under the protection of someone else.
He kept walking, each second felt like an hour. Eventually, he ended up seeing a small opening of a cave, a familiar one, the place he once called home.
Having nowhere else, he decided to enter. Managing to walk only a few steps before collapsing, Pheo fell to the ground. Even with the entrance open, he was deep enough for the storm not to reach him.
His eyes felt heavy, the weight of heat and exhaustion pulling down his eyelids like sandbags. "Looks like it's my time to pay you back." Pheo heard a voice speak before he succumbed to sleep.