Fall 1, 511 A.V.
There was nothing quite like the feeling of physical exhaustion mixed with spiritual elation. It's like a young musician plucking an ancient harp, each note lively, yet all the while strained. It was a song that could not last. Tak Tak took measures to slow this tiring, by nestling into the sands under a shade of a dune in day and emerging at night, but his body so unused to this nocturnal progression and the fact that his daylight slumber was constantly interrupted by shifting sands which sought to drown him did little to fight off his fatigue.
This and the fact that he was forced to ration his life giving clay and water due to the tight-fisted nature of the desert surrounding him continued to press down upon his thoughts, which once ran so high and unabated. For many hours of the days he had trekked, he had thought of return, to the solidity of life in Yahebah. Each time was stamped out by a determined stride in the sand and the echoing words of the many traders he had overheard in marketplace and taverns. They spoke of huge mounds of earth that unlike the sands he was so thoroughly ingrained with could not be moved except by the gods themselves and water so abundant it regularly fell from the sky.
Still, thoughts are not hardy traveling companions and exhaustion and heat make cruel riding partners. Still Tak Tak took great pleasure in the fact that each day he was getting closer. Closer to what he had little idea. In passing he had heard some accounts of trading routes across the many times non-descript sands of the Burning Lands. In fact he was currently approaching one of the first of many markers to come that would hopefully lead him to another great desert town.
Tak Tak picked up his pace, knowing full well that the figure before him would provide him no cool air nor invigorated legs, but still it did aid him one way, he gained great hope at its sight. For in Tak Tak’s young age he was swift to imagine the dazzling sights that might one day fill his eyes, but as per usual, nothing could compare to the true sight. So that even if this marker provided no practical or immediate aid to the young Pycon; Tak Tak took heart that it must mean something.
Though what it actually meant was a bit of a mystery. Before the diminutive creature was what the traders called ‘Steel Stick’. As it was, the translation seemed quite literal as Tak Tak soon looked up at the eight foot pole with wonder. It was rusted with age and atop it was a series of adornments left by traders and travelers, forks, feathers, animal skins, and the like that came together to shimmer and rattle in the desert’s biting sun and wind to create a beautiful if not melancholic melody of the lands it so gallantly stood sentinel over.
Tak Tak enjoyed the sight of the ‘Steel Stick’ immensely and like so many others wondered what its true purpose was. Suddenly remembering something, he thrust his arm back into his pack and pulled out his Py-pole. Looking at the stick in his hands and the stick before him, he smiled and said, “Big Py-pole!”
After this observation Tak Tak sat down, his back to the pole as the sun continued to rise for the day. He felt at last like he had made some true progress a good end to the first chapter of his journey. So with a simplistic grin he fell back exhausted into the sand, letting it bury him slightly in a natural warm blanket. There he wondered that if he were to dry up in the hot day, would he become sand himself and become one with the desert? Then he thought no more as dreams slowly lifted his drooping conscious and sent it to bed.