The Desert that Sleeps

The sun bled across the horizon like an open wound, spilling orange fire over miles of shifting sand.The wind of the western desert sang low and ancient, brushing past dunes shaped like sleeping giants.And walking alone through that silence — was Kedar.
He had left the mountains of Parshu’s ashram behind a week ago. The elders had suggested he rest after the fight with Karkotak, a battle that had scarred his body and shaken his soul.But rest had become a ghost that refused to visit him.Each night he woke drenched in sweat — the roar of the Lobster king echoing through his dreams.So when word came of a small, quiet village deep in the desert — untouched by trade, hidden from travelers — he chose to go there.A place where even the air seemed too tired to move.
The villagers called it Ravika.A forgotten name, for a forgotten land.

---
Kedar arrived just before dusk.The village was small — barely fifty homes made of clay and stone, the color of dying embers. Men sat wordlessly outside, smoking herbs to fight the dry air. Children watched him from behind walls, their eyes hollow but curious.
The elder, an old man with skin cracked like riverbeds, greeted him with folded hands.
> “A traveler? Or a seeker?”


> “Both,” Kedar replied. “I only need a place to stay for a few days.”


The elder nodded and offered him a hut near the edge of the village — overlooking the endless desert on one side and a jagged mountain range on the other.When night fell, the stars came alive like shards of shattered glass. It was beautiful — and terrifyingly still.
But beneath that stillness, Kedar felt something else.Something that listened.

---
The Unspoken Mountain
On his second day, Kedar went to fetch water from the old well near the village’s northern boundary. From there, he could see the mountains of Kanchan, silent and majestic, yet somehow wrong.
They seemed to bend the light — shimmering even when the wind was still.And at the base of one, faintly visible even in daylight, stood the ruins of a palace.
The villagers refused to speak of it.Whenever Kedar asked, they turned away. Some made the sign of protection with their fingers, others muttered prayers.But one woman, her voice trembling like dry leaves, told him a fragment.
> “That palace… once belonged to a prince. They called him Mayan. Handsome, wise with words, loved by many. But he was born weak — lazy, drunk on luxury. His father, the king, banished him for shame.”“And then?” Kedar asked.“He swore to return stronger. He went into the mountains to learn dark rituals. They say he found… someone.”“Who?”“A force without name. A whisper that promises everything.”


After that, she refused to speak further.Her eyes darted to the mountain, and Kedar noticed — her hands were trembling.

---
Echoes of Restlessness
That night, Kedar meditated outside his hut. The desert wind was soft, like breath through silk. Yet the deeper he went into his stillness, the heavier the air became — like something pressed against his thoughts.
He saw flashes:A golden throne, half-buried in sand.A crown of ash, worn by a smiling man.And a voice, deep and mocking —
> “You seek peace in a land that has none to give.”


Kedar’s eyes opened.Before him, the sand rippled — like something had walked across it. But no footprints remained.
He exhaled slowly, whispering,
> “Illusion… or memory?”


He didn’t know. But the line between the two had already begun to blur.

---
A Village Without Night
By the fifth day, he began to notice something stranger.Ravika never truly grew dark. Even after the sun dipped below the dunes, a faint silver glow clung to the air, like moonlight that never faded.
The villagers no longer came out after dusk.Doors locked. Lamps dimmed.Kedar alone sat outside, watching the far-off silhouette of the mountain — the ruin faintly illuminated as if by an unseen flame.
It pulsed.Once.Twice.
Then the desert wind whispered a sound that was almost a name.
> “Mayan…”


Kedar stood, heart steady, eyes narrowing.He could feel the pull now — the same quiet gravity that had once drawn him into battle, into destiny.But this was different.This was something that wanted him alone.
He looked at the mountain and said softly,
> “If it’s peace you guard… or torment you keep — I will find which.”


The wind stilled.And far away, from within the dark palace that slumbered beneath centuries of ruin, something smiled.
To be continued....