The Diamond Desert

What Zanjan would give never to see diamonds again. They surrounded him in every direction, their glittering and gleaming stones filling him from sandals to collar. Desert winds carried the devilish grains, too, allowing them to grind structures down and self-replicate. In their path was the short diamond cliff he made a home in. When that eventually flattened into dust and joined the infinite glittering dunes around him, Zanjan’s time would be up.

He took a deep breath, enjoying relatively grain-free drafts here in the front ‘yard’, but the glass-thin rear walls of the shelter had acted as windbreakers for several consecutive days. Too many. Like the people back home, the wind always found your greatest weaknesses and struck there. Anytime now, something had to give. But where was there left to take refuge? He had more to think about than just himself, these days.

“Daddy!” Diwal called. She emerged from a cave in the cliff, wearing light-brown clothes that covered her entire body. She ran and hugged Zanjan’s leg. “Daddy, mama’s calling. There’s a big hole in the farm room wall.”

Of course. Of all places, their farming room fell first. It was like something greater wanted him to fail.

Something greater. He’d supposed to have stopped thinking like that. He looked up at the moon—Vaas, the overbearing grey ball in the sky slightly eclipsing the glaring sun—and spat at it before turning and heading for the cave. Diwal spat at the moon too.

“Good girl,” he said, taking her hand. He hunched into the cave, careful not to touch the sharp edges of the diamond mouth. He used to sand them down but, over time, diamond chipped diamond so it was meaningless work. Diwal effortlessly slithered in past it no problem anyway. The perks of growing up here, he supposed.

“Zandi!” Mahi’s voice echoed from within the home. The sound rang with a crisp chime only heard within diamond walls. “Zandi, hurry up!”

“She could just lean back and plug the hole with her you-know-what,” Zanjan whispered.

Diwal took a moment to process, and finally gave him a, “Hehe.”

Zanjan passed the living room, which was furnished with resin-hardened dust. That gave the furniture a white-blue tint compared to the rest of the structure’s semi-transparent diamond. Seats were padded with folded cloth, a little of which he grabbed as he headed down a thin vein to the next cavern.

In his haste, he bumped into a wall, and had to squint so he didn’t get cut. A tarp stuck to the ceiling kept the house from turning into a glittering mirror maze, but it was an imperfect system.

The closer they got, the worse it sounded. Cawing, mooing, bleating—none of which Mahi—echoed down the thin corridor until Zanjan emerged to utter chaos. The animals ran free of their restraining gate, panicking in the diamond storm that had broken into the house. Their shelves of potted vegetable foodstuffs lay in disarray on the ground. The cattle trampled the plants, one unlucky chicken, and most of the flock’s eggs. The rest of the chickens tried to fly up into and peck at the roof, damaging the tarp, likely blinding them and fuelling the panic. It was a wonder he hadn’t heard this din or the shattering while out front.

A woman with the warmest smile—she wasn’t wearing it right now—tried to plug the hole. His wife, Mahi. Unfortunately, said hole was far larger than any one body part could plug. He relieved her of her place in front of the breach and shoved the cloth into cracks in the diamond until he formed a taut, makeshift barrier. Wind and dust beat against it, but this was enough to halt the storm inside. The air came to a relative standstill. Even the animals stopped, silent. It was like the blaring noise of the howling wind was only knowable when it finally shut up.

Absently, the cattle began grazing about on their grass and the ruined veggies, while the chickens pecked at each other as if one of them were supposed to protect the eggs from the larger animals.

Mahi collapsed back onto her seat and dropped her head into her hands. “We have to go back home,” she said.

No. Zanjan would die first.

Diwal crawled up her mother’s leg and sat on her knee. “Back where?”

“Nowhere, honey,” Zanjan said, placing his hands on their heads. “Home is right here—”

Mahi glared at him. “What would you do, slaughter the animals to buy us a few days? This,” she regarded the cave, “this is the last cave out here for who knows how far? It’s falling apart, Zanjan. It’s fallen apart.”

She placed Diwal down and rose, clumps of accumulated diamond dust raining from her thick dress. She placed a hand over Zanjan’s heart and gently leaned her head against it. “I’d have happily died out here with you,” she whispered. “Lord knows we’d be ground to dust faster back home than here. But think about Diwal. Please.”

Zanjan wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders and peered over to little Diwal, wrapped up in such thick clothing on a hot day like this. He’d never gotten used to this clothing, but it was necessary out here. Which was what worried him. Diwal knew nothing else but this.

“She’d never get used to life in the village,” he said. “And I don’t mean the lighter clothes.”

“Perhaps they’ve changed,” Mahi said. She looked up at Zanjan, her begging eyes a plea for him to believe the impossible. “Maybe they’ve found peace and will accept us back.”

They would take them for demons and fill them with arrows on sight.

“Let’s set off,” he said. “Deeper into the desert.”

The glare he got made him shudder. “And hope we find shelter? There aren’t any cliffs in sight anymore, Zanjan. We have no seeds left. What will we eat once the animals are gone?”

Zanjan dropped his head onto Mahi’s shoulder.

“Don’t gamble with your daughter’s life, Zandi.”

If the villagers didn’t kill them, they’d pull them back into the fighting. Out here, at least Diwal knew peace.

The little girl was breaking up the fights, trying to play with the chickens who not-too-affluently cawed at her to mind her own business. She would certainly get herself killed back home, like everyone else Zanjan and Mahi had loved.

“Okay,” Zanjan said.

“Really?” Mahi’s head cocked back, pushing off the sensitive place above Zanjan’s heart. He ground his teeth and ignored the pain radiating from it.

“Don’t be so surprised,” he said. “Of course I won’t take our daughter to her death. Which means we’re not going home.”

Mahi frowned. “Then where will we go?”

“There’s a place. I don’t know exactly where it is, but—

“You don’t know?”

“Not exactly where. I just know that there must be something roughly in that area—”

A corner of the cloth barrier he’d made swung free, raising the pitch of the howling wind.

Can’t I finish a sentence in this house? The cracks holding other corners of the cloth chipped and chimed like glass as they propagated up to the roof. This place would be coming down soon. I guess not.

There was little time left for words anyway. Zanjan grabbed Diwal and put her into Mahi’s arms. “Get her out. I’ll be there right away.”

Mahi clutched his shirt and looked him in the eye. She was angry, that was plain. But more than anything, he saw trust in her eyes. For that, he loved her more than words could describe. He kissed their foreheads and sent them on their way.

A goat ran after them, and the chickens followed. Only one of which stayed back, protectively standing beside the ruined eggs. The mother hen, fat old Henna. They needed her, so he snatched her up against her flapping will, and yelled at the cattle. The two cows ran first, making for the exit, and the sheep followed behind. On his way out, he bowed his head for a moment to the poor trampled chicken. It was still alive, but its spine was snapped halfway down its back. It would die a slow, horrible death here.

The cloth in the wall burst free of its restraints, splintering the crack it was lodged in. That splinter led to a deafening shock through the entire cave, sending glittering cracks spreading like long evil fingers up the roof, ready to grab him. A death in here would not be fun.

He knelt beside the injured chicken and stroked its head once, twice. Then he snapped its neck. Life drained from its eyes and Henna cawed angrily, but Zanjan held her tight and ran, humming a prayer for the departed. Diamond cracked and shattered behind him, the farm room collapsing just as he jumped out. Henna bounced against the corridor wall and flapped her wings wildly to right herself. Thankfully, she was spooked enough to run herself, and Zanjan followed.

The tarp of cloth covering the roof blew away, letting blinding prismatic light in. The shimmering light filled the walls, turning the transparent structure into a maze of reflections dominated by reds—likely blood of the dead chicken who just got crushed in the farm room. Imperfections in the diamond confused everything more, turning the corridor into a room of mirrors. He could no longer see the exit.

Don’t panic! He told himself. Henna’s got this.

“Pak PAK!” she said as she spread her wings and pivoted as if she was going to turn a corner. For a second it looked like she would run into the glistening wall, but she disappeared.

“That’s my girl!”

He followed, gaining only a single shoulder cut as he slightly misjudged the turn into the living room. Henna was already exiting on the opposite end, where Mahi kept Diwal from trying to run in.

“I’m coming!” he shouted, holding his bleeding shoulder and sprinting. That calmed Diwal down, until her and her mother’s eyes went wide, looking above Zanjan.

Diwal screamed at the top of her lungs, the sound of pure terror, and Mahi covered the girl’s eyes.

Zanjan didn’t look up. No bastard diamond roof was going to fall on his head. He dove early, sliding across the floor. He lost speed quickly, even on the smooth diamond, and had to roll the last arm’s length. That gave him vision for an instant of the mass of glistening devil stone coming down upon him. He wasn’t going to make it.

Tugs on his clothes all around yanked him, and the diamond roof smashed into the floor with the din of a thousand shattering windows just a meter away. Mahi, Diwal, and Henna—with her beak—still held onto his clothes and pulled, but were knocked down by the gust of wind that rushed out from under the fallen structure.

They all lay where they were, unable to move. The only thing that did move was the wind, the ever eternal diamond storm. It buried him up to his ears before his nerves allowed him to stand. It was dark by then, and none of the animals remained save for Henna.

The others stirred now, as if him standing verified that they were in fact, still alive. Henna cawed around, jumping up the fallen structure and calling to her flock. No responses came. But Mahi and Diwal ran to Zanjan, and they held each other for who knew how long.

The temperature dropped eventually, leaving them no choice but to get moving. Zanjan looked up at the moon—it mostly eclipsed the sun—to get his bearing, then glanced deeper into the desert. A part of him wanted to see what lay out there. A young, curious part of him. But that man had come into this desert without knowing his wife was pregnant with a beautiful baby girl.

Zanjan turned his back to the desert and met his wife’s eye.

“Take us to this place you speak of,” she said.

He smiled and nodded. Then lifted Diwal into his arms and set off. “Want to hear all about the mysterious people across the river?” he asked the little girl.

“What’s a river?”

“You’ll see. Its name is Majul.”

Author’s Note

Hey! Thanks for reading, I do hope you enjoyed. This Anthology is made up of short stories based on my 'Final Blink' trilogy (coming soon!)

Check out my Patreon if you'd like to see more stories in this world. I’m thinking of posting the main trilogy there as well!

Cheers!

Aesha, Suvina, and the Majul King Pact

Aesha received a slap at the back of his head, rattling him to the core. His father pointed at his bucket and said, “If that remains empty, don’t bother coming home.”

This wasn’t the first time Aesha had slept in a barely sheltered nook at the back of their house. He shivered regardless.

His father left the river, his own bucket laden with fish. Shortly after, Aesha’s brother raised his hand as if to replicate their father’s slap, but chuckled when Aesha flinched for nothing. He too left with a full bucket of fish.

Aesha held his fishing rod and body sturdy. No tears would escape his eyes, and no fish would escape his hook. Today was the day. He could feel it. The big catch he’d been planning for weeks: landing the never-caught-before, twenty kilogram monster, the great Majul King.

He’d need to carry that thing back in his arms princess style. Empty bucket or not, he would not be sleeping outside today.

Time dragged by and the day grew old. He yawned, looking up at the moon—Vaas. It began eclipsing the star, ushering in evening. Would he actually make the catch? He’d made this bait with weeks of testing and observation, narrowing the King’s diet to a single, supposedly extinct, fish.

And Aesha had caught one of them, a fish his ancestors had given up on. His bucket might be empty, but not by accident. As long as he kept his mind keen and skills sharp, it didn’t matter how many times bigger men slapped him at the back of the head. He’d still have enough brain cells left to focus for when…

…his line tensioned and yanked him.

It was time. He had the King on the other end of his line, and it pulled like the raging Majul current itself. Aesha held his reel sturdy and drew back his fishing rod, his entire body twisting and lending his line strength. A momentary release of tension on the line told him his hook had bitten in.

With his expert winch control, the slippery sucker in the river’s depths had no chance. Nothing had ever escaped him once he’d hooked them in this stance—body twisted so far back he was practically facing the ground behind him. He imagined it didn’t look very flattering, so good thing he was alone.

The King pulled so hard, Aesha’s heels sunk into the mud. He cranked his winch and held his form, grinning as the fish’s momentum reversed and accelerated this way.

This catch would be so big, it was going to exceed his quota!

“You look so stupid posing like that!” a female voice shouted from behind him. “Do you have a cramp?”

Aesha flushed. That was Suvina’s voice; Su with the nice backside. Focus, Aesha!

He’d broken form for a second, just barely, so easily twisted his body back into position. Too easily. The weight at the end of the line was no longer there and in a flash, he face planted, eating dirt.

“Ow,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his cheek. A breeze brushed his sweaty skin, feeling both cool and prickly. Little sharp diamonds stuck to his hand, reflecting a myriad of colours and magnifying his surroundings—particularly a very empty bucket.

Aesha sighed. He’d survived the last night out. And he’d caught a fish others thought extinct. He would survive, catch the extinct bait, and try for the King again.

He dusted his hand, holding onto the largest diamond. It reflected the darkening sky where Vaas’ eclipse took the shape of a grin. So it wasn’t just the fool girl at the top of the bank laughing her backside off at his expense.

Why hadn’t he kept his damn focus? A girl showed up and suddenly his ‘keen’ mind and ‘sharp’ skills disappeared. Ridiculous.

Fuming, he gathered his equipment from the brush along the river and navigated his way up the diamond-filled muddy bank, holding onto trees on his way.

When he passed Suvina, he kept his focus ahead and walked on.

“Hey!” She ran up beside him, struggling to keep pace. “Where you going? I came all the way out here to see you.”

His stupid face felt hot again. “To laugh at me?”

“To an extent.”

Aesha felt an urge to slap her at the back of her head. It would feel so good to see someone else hurt for a change. He was a few years older than her and had a height advantage like his father and brother had on him. She’d probably take it like he did, pathetic and afraid.

But he was not them. Instead, he clicked his tongue and increased his pace. His longer legs meant he easily left her behind.

“Wait!” she said. “I’m kidding, okay? My mum says I play too many pranks.” She ran out in front of him and jogged backwards, her long, jet black hair shining in the moonlight and framing a small, pretty face. The only thing out of place was her slightly bushy eyebrows, but he was already balding at eighteen so who was he to judge?

“I actually wanted…” Her words were punctuated by panting. She must have just run over to the river. “Wanted to ask… you something…”

“Yeah? Maybe you should have thought about that before making fun of me. Actually, before distracting me.”

She grinned. She bloody grinned.

“You’re so animated, it’s hilarious. Even when you’re looking at something, you have your hand at your brow, leaning over like you’re performing at a Holivk play.”

She laughed again, and despite himself, he chuckled, too. Not because he was the clown she made him out to be—he was not a clown—but because her laugh was so full and hearty, it pulled him along with greater force than the Majul current.

“Now that I’ve cheered you up, you owe me an answer.”

“Excuse me?” It seemed her laugh was as dangerous as the current, too.

“You’ve been looking at the island in the middle of the river every day for weeks. I… want to know what’s over there, too. No one knows more about the river than you and your family. Is there any way to go to Majul Island?”

“You’re mad,” Aesha said. “The current will sweep you away and break your bones on the rocky banks. Vaas’ Gate downstream will mince your remains and wash it out to the fabled ocean beyond. And spare me. If there were any debt between us, it would be one Majul King, and you’d be the one paying.”

Her eyes widened and she halted her backward jog. “You were trying to catch a King?”

Good, if she felt bad. Aesha passed her, the only thing on his mind his tired, aching body and its yearning for his bed. He was halfway to the village. Obscured by evening mists, only the first row of whitestone houses were visible. Those fanned out from either side of the rusty entrance gate, dissolving into the darkness. A thick, long tube of metal called a pipe ran along the path, somehow making clean drinking water and carrying it to village houses that would accept it. Aesha’s house wasn’t one of those.

The pipe thrummed from within, as did his belly. He drank some water dripping from a joint in the pipe and resumed his trudge, imagining his knife slicing a choice cut from the Majul King. He would eat it in a single sitting to celebrate, serve his family and village council with the rest of the monster, and then bask in their praise as they tell him to instruct his family how to catch more.

No plan ever went that perfectly, but he would be indulging in that fantasy in the hours to come. It would get him through the night.

Something tugged on his shirt and stopped him in his tracks like he’d hit Vaas’ Gate downstream. Suvina, mincing away his reverie, making him notice that he was still basically halfway from home.

“You’ve distracted me again.”

“You were trying to catch a Majul King?” she asked.

He looked away. If she wanted to laugh, she could. But he would not be joining in this time.

“And you had one on your hook?” She frowned at the empty bucket, only now noticing the all-in gamble he’d made today. She looked up at him with large, concerned eyes.

Her tone took a turn, suddenly serious. “What happens if you don’t make quota? I have some fish at home. My parents won’t mind. We can get you at least three. Three won’t be enough for village distribution tomorrow morning, though…

“My neighbours are nice. Maybe they could help.” She spoke faster as she went, her panting now only due to the fact that she did not stop to breathe. “But it’s my neighbours’ turns to collect rations so they likely have nothing. Arg, your dad is so strict! You could have blown him away today, too. There has to be something we can do. Think, Suvina, think!”

Yes, his father was very strict. Aesha hadn’t even thought of whether there would be more punishment to come. His chest felt tight and for a second he thought he was going to cry. But as she went on, he heard her say ‘we’ over and over, full of genuine concern. He found himself watching her as she thought out loud. Those round, pretty eyes. Her full eyebrows. Her equally full lips… flapping away.

Focus, Aesha. Focus! Do you want a worse beating than a slap behind the head? Thrashings always left him black and blue. Was there something he could do to soothe his father’s wrath? Nothing but to steal fish from the villagers he was meant to serve. Or…

His grip on his bucket and rod weakened just thinking about it. He wouldn’t be effective or last very long, but he could fish through the night. He was certainly in better shape now than if he tried to fish at dawn after a night in the elements.

He sighed and turned away from the village.

Su was there, just as animated as she accused him of being. As she guessed at futile solutions, she scratched her head, folded her arms, bit her lip, huffed. Her body and curves were much longer in form than her height suggested. She was streamlined, like a fish, her long skirt sitting on her hips—and other things—in just the right ways.

Damn you, Aesha. Get moving! And remember, this is in part her fault.

He made for the river.

“You’re going to have to sleep outside again, aren’t you?” Su said. “I was too scared last time, but this time I have no choice. I have to take responsibility. My parents will understand. You can take my bed!”

Aesha stopped in his tracks. He thought about the ground behind his house, cold and damp. His clothes soaking it all up, leaving him clammy and soggy all night. The constant icy breeze. The sharp diamond stones. Sand and diamond dust blowing into his hair and nose, and sticking onto his wet body. Then having to walk in the morning back to the river to wash it all off because his father wouldn’t let him into the house so filthy, even if it was just to bathe.

“How does a warm bath tonight sound?” she asked. “And I’ll get you up before first light so you can fish up some of your quota. I’ll help! I can even…” she went on planning.

An urge came over him, greater than the urge had been to slap her behind her head. This time he did not fight it. He dropped his equipment and turned back, his entire body twisting and lending him strength. His arm wrapped around Su’s waist and pulled her in, bringing their faces only a peck apart.

She finally shut up, looking up at him with large, surprised eyes. Those eyes closed.

Was he going to kiss her today? After what she’d done? The thought made him angry. Yet, his heart thudded in his chest as her lips parted and she began to close the distance. He swallowed hard wondering where the strength of his stance had gone. Did she still think he looked stupid? His knees felt like they were about to give way.

But the moment her lips met his, there was a momentary release of tension within him like a hook had bitten in, only, he was the one getting caught.

So he kissed back, giving her a fight worthy of the King itself. She didn’t seem to know what she was doing any more than he did, so he went along with it, even when the back and forth got a little slippery. He liked the taste of her, and for Vaas’ sake he was hungry. A part of him couldn’t believe what was happening. Had he really grabbed Suvina and kissed her? Was she really kissing him back?

Her heels came off the ground and she stretched her neck, pressing their faces together harder.

She really was. And he really was holding her in his arms. He could see what her backside felt like if he just reached over! He grinned and cupped the back of her head instead, supporting her efforts to smash their faces together. She was exhilarating, and he felt like he’d already slept a full night.

That was still coming, thanks to her. She’d offered him a roof over his head. Him. Someone whose own father didn’t think him worthy of that basic need.

In moments, it turned from a battle between fisherman and King to a harmonic flow, more like a raging current. She melted into him like a fluid, the heat of her body and breath so warm, it could usher him through a night out.

Her lips left his intermittently to say, “I still want to know…what you’ve been studying…about that island.”

That island was of so little concern to him, he no longer gave it a passing glance when at the river anymore. He’d been studying the Majul King.

“If you’re going…” she said, “you have to… take me, too.”

Her lips stayed away this time, waiting, their panting breaths intermingling.

He didn’t have time to study the island, much less figure out how to get there. But if he could fish for a man who would make him sleep outside, he would do anything for a woman who gave him shelter.

“One day,” he said, “I’ll take you to Majul Island.”

She smiled, her entire face lighting up. “And one day we’ll catch the Majul King.”

He’d lost his catch today, but gained something greater. A pact. They sealed it in sweet saliva.

Author’s Note

Hey! Thanks for reading, I do hope you enjoyed. This Anthology is made up of short stories based on my novels 'Empirical Inquiry - The Final Blink', which I could make available to read on a more exclusive platform if you’re interested.

This particular short story takes place in the year 313 AL (After Landing)
The novel takes place in year 350 AL - I wish that meant Aesha and Su had spent all that time together

Sign up to my Newsletter below and check out my Patreon if you'd like to support more stories in this world, and of course, if you'd like to see Aesha and Su fulfill their dreams!

Cheers!

More Coming Soon

Empirical Inquiry - The Final Blink is a science fiction story written by Reece Naidu. He is currently writing book 3 of the trilogy.