Between the sweltering hear of the sun and the rage she was feeling, Amissa's blood boiled as the flew on.

The faint wagon tracks she followed carefully were her only hint as for where to go. They where the only significant features visible for miles.

The speed tore at Amissa's cloak and tossed about her main and tail. Particles of dust and sand that had been thrown into the air pierced through her coat and stung her skin.

For hours and hours she flew on.

She began to realize that the tracks were nearly gone, washed away by the wind. Soon she would be without any guidance.

The thought of being lost without any supplies in the desert began to shake her out of her blind fury.

She looked around only to see empty desert for miles and miles.

What if she lost the path entirely? What if she never caught up with them?

The consequences of her act of rage were beginning to set into her mind. Her stomach rumbled and she became aware of a dryness in her mouth.

She shook her head and thought of her mother's necklace.

The only chance she had now was to catch up with the thieves and get her supplies back, one way or another.

~~~~~

Amissa's hope was all but gone.

It had been a full day. She had flow nonstop the entire time. The tracks were long gone, and she was beginning to doubt her own sens of direction. She was exhausted, hungry, and desperately thirsty.

Her mouth was painfully dry, and even in the heat of the sun, she was no longer sweating. She was beginning to wonder how much longer she could carry on.

The night, while it had been a welcome relief from the heat, had done little to help her flight. Her mind was losing out to the lack of energy and sleep.

She was beginning to have lapses in her awareness. She would blink, only for an hour to pass, sometimes with her veering north or south. With all the changes in direction, she was sure she had lost the path, though she had little choice but to carry on.

The worst part though was her mind playing tricks on her. She would focus on the horizon only to see something in her periphery, but, upon looking to see it, the image would seem to dart away from view, or simply vanish, as though it had never been there at all.

It felt as though it were the hottest day so far. The air was thin, and Amissa was finding it harder and harder to maintain her altitude. She felt as though, through some factor or another, she would soon fall out of the sky.

What choices could she have made differently.

She regretted not searching for water at the oasis before leaving. Though she wondered if it would have helped. How much further could it have gotten her, a mile? Two? Ten?

She felt dizzy, as though she was spinning.

Could she make it? Was she going to die out here?

Weakness was overcoming her body. She realized her eyes were closed. She opened them to find herself falling.

Her panic was numbed by tiredness. She tried to open her wings but her body simply wouldn't respond. She couldn't move. She couldn't think.

She gave in.

The sand felt like stone, and burned like hot steel. Something popped, but Amissa could hardly feel anything anymore.

The world was filled with the bright light of the desert sun. It was blinding.

Then everything went dark.

Author's Note

This arc is dragging on, and taxing my mind, and I'm sick of it. I'm ending it and moving on in the next chapter.