Amissa wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but she was glad the eventually had.

It had been hours. The sun was finally beginning to set, and the cool of night was creeping in.

The dunes in the sand were casting long shadows across the landscape, as the sky was beginning to glow with a deep crimson.

Amissa looked about to get her bearings once again. She looked in the direction she had seen the smoke earlier. The grey plume had long dissipated, but she had a general direction, and that would, hopefully, be enough.

She gathered her things and wrapped herself back in her cloak.

The sky was quickly growing dark, giving way to a sky of glittering stars.

She took flight, heading up as quickly as possible, so as to get the best view of the area.

The sky and the sands below blurred together on the horizon, creating the illusion of an endless plane of two contrasting worlds. There was a black mirror above speckled with lights reflecting from some world she couldn't see through the pale, blank space below.

For all she knew she was flying upside down above an ocean of lights, and the desert sands were really clouds floating above her.

A strange feeling overcame her senses.

Was she awake?

How could she tell?

For all she know, she could still be back passed out under the pouring rain of the thunderstorm. The last few days could just be the delusions of her dying mind.

She shook herself out of it, shouting something and striking a hoof across her face to bring herself back to reality.

The pain brought her back and drew her eyes to a dip in the landscape. Her vision centered on a grouping of small trees and bushes.

It was an oasis.

It had to be the origin of the smoke.

She lowered her altitude to get abetter look.

Sure enough there was the remains of a small camp just inside a small grouping of trees. If she hadn't been looking, she probably never would have seen it.

She moved down to the location to investigate.

The camp seemed to be deserted.

There were a few empty tents and and a wagon of supplies sitting around a small fire pit. A dirty cooking pot was hung over the burnt out fire.

Amissa checked the the tens. There were no signs of anypony inside, but she counted six bedrolls.

"Hello!" she shouted out.

Silence answered her call.

Something felt off about this place. Why would anypony leave their things behind.

She went over and inspected the cart of supplies.

Moving back the cover revealed what appeared to be barrels of water along with crates of what she guessed might be food.

She went to pull open a bag sitting to the side only for it to tumble over, its contents clattering out.

Her face paled, and blood ran cold.

Several weapons lay about, some of them coated in what appeared to be dried blood.

She looked about, in worry.

Then she noticed what had had her on edge the whole time.

Hoofprints covered the ground all around the camp. Fresh hoof prints...

She turned readying her wings for flight. She stopped...

She felt a sharp point pressed to the back of her neck.

"Nyeta. Y chahs zhoa hehky!"

Amissa turned to see a grizzled stallion holding a gnarled blade at her.

"I don't understand." She faced him and tried to back up.

"Nyeta zhoa dyehvah!" The stallion shouted in his strange language, as he stepped closer. "Nyet hoi!"

Another blade was pressed to he side.

A mare holding a saber stood giving her a death stare as four others stepped out of the bushes and made themselves known.

"What do you want? Please." She looked about the group as they cornered her in. "I'm just a traveler, please-"

"Vohkanyetoi! Egnya!" The stallion's voice was harsh as he glared at her.

"I don't know what you're saying! Please I-" A blade brushed her neck, cutting loose her supply bag and leaving a small wound. "Hey!"

"Ahdyniet! Egnya fylah!" The mare pressed her saber to Amissa's throat.

The stallion turned to one of the others. "Hahst. Pahs!"

The other pony snatched away the bag and began to look through it.

"Please, those are my things, I need them to-" The mare holding the saber to her throat turned and struck her with the handle.

"Dehkyah dyehvah! Shahs svy vohka ahdyniet!" She held the sword over Amissa.

The pony who had took the bag, whispered something to the stallion who stood over her.

He smiled. It was a cruel smile.

"Please-" Amissa was cut off again as several swords and knives were pressed against her.

"Seh fylleti bluhgnetahvoi, ahs abnoi." He turned away from her and began to leave. "Hoi!"

"Ahy!" The shout rung out collectively between their group.

Amissa was shaking, clueless as to what was happening. "Please, let me leave."

"Ahdyniet zhoa dyehvah!" Another stallion in the group shouted, as he pulled her over. "Ah seh voi!"

He bashed his hoof across the back of her skull.

She felt pain, then blacked out.

Author's Note

This chapter contains foreign text that most readers may wish to skip over. Feel free to do so if you find reading it to be strenuous.

This language was included for the sake of diversity and not excluding content in such a way as the, "He shouted in a strange tongue", style of exclusion. Such content will not be included often throughout, but will be present on occasion.

If asked, I will gladly translate any lines of interest.

Thank you for reading.