The Sand Masters: Calideala

By Global Nomad

Prologue

The sand. It is our greatest saviour and our most feared enemy. From the edge of our great desert the border countries see only an endless stretch of barren desert. But my people see it as a rich land filled with wonders. And me? I see it as my land. The land that only I can control. Many ask who am I to claim that I am able to control all sands, even those in death near the edges.

I am Calideala the Master of Masters, for I am the master of all who call themselves Masters of the Sand. But most of those lesser masters cannot perform their duties as well as they travel farther from The Garden of Life, which lies at our center, and towards the Border of Death, which is the very edges of our lands. And it is only I who can truly control the Sands even here at the Border.

As I look to the North I can see the faint outline of the snow-capped mountains that separate the Elmai from the Barbarians. They call themselves civilized but my people know better than to believe that. We have had contact with them in the Northerners in the past. The first time was when a lord’s daughter, they have the oddest system of rank, ran away from her betrothed who is now the leader of the wretched Patrol that guards the border with our desert.

The girl fell in love with a lesser Sand Master who attempted to marry her, he was a distant cousin of my grandfather it is said, but we may never know. Unfortunately her betrothed came into out lands attempting to find her a wreaking havoc in his wake. He went from clan to clan searching for her, killing several hundred in the process. When he did find her he wiped out the entire clan that was housing her including her beloved the Sand Master.

The second contact we had with them was when the Northerners attempted to take over the desert. Groups of masters sat atop sand dunes watching their fatal attempts to cross the first stretch of a hundred miles in fits of laughter as the watched men falling like grass in the heat of the sun. By the time the Clan elders had prepared an army ‘ Just in case’ half the Barbarian army was dead.

All these contacts have ended in death and unease. There was a time when we could walk right up to the base of the mountains and bury our dead at the border. But then the Northerners would capture burial parties and take them away and they were never seen or heard from again. It is because of the peoples fear of the barbarians that death’s borders have crept slowly inwards from out borders.

And of course I will never forget the last contact with them when they tried to make peace. Just the mention of it would make any Elmai cry with laughter. I did so my self until I was sent with the ‘Ambassador’s Party’ to look into their motives to see if they were serious. But when is Barbarian honest or serious?

As I stand here in my beloved desert I close my eyes and remember my life before and during the time I traveled beyond the Borders and in the unknown. In the land of the Barbarians.

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