Page 7 of The Demon God's Desire

But my dreams might convince me.

The sand dunes never come crashing down. Instead, they hover above me, frightening me.

Because they look like they’re about to tip over at any moment.

And then I wake.

The dreams do not make sense, and I do not expect them to. My subconscious mind isn’t anything I would ever rely on.

The desert isn’t to be feared, it is to be respected and revered.

But now it feels as though something is coming. And it feels like the desert is trying to warn me of it.

* * *

An undercurrentof tension ripples through the camp. I try to ignore it, even as I walk past several small groups of people.

They are all talking, their voices low, and they shift from foot to foot, betraying their anxiety.

I do not know what it is, and I am also not sure that I am not just imagining it.

My dreams, senseless as they are, are bleeding into my waking moments. I have to shake them off, or they’ll keep invading my space.

As the camp healer, I make it my duty to check on everyone in the camp every morning.

Everyone in Camp Mythos has accepted me as their healer, but a lot of people are wary of healers in general.

Many people are afraid to admit that they might be sick or injured, and cannot come to terms with the fact that they need treatment.

At least it isn’t just my winning smile putting them off.

After making my rounds, I go back home with my basket of herbs, poultices, and salves. Then I head to the market.

Camp Mythos has grown tremendously in the time that I have been living here. And it has been a long time.

It feels like forever.

The camp has grown enough that we have built a market in the center. There every human in the camp can trade their goods or services.

I like it. It brings a sense of community to the camp. It brings us all closer together.

As I head to the camp, I see the desert from my peripheral vision. It rises up on either side of me.

Menacing. Dry. Deadly.

For a second I am frozen.

Then I burst into laughter at the absurdity of my thoughts. I’ve been drinking too much wine before bed again.

The creeping, cold dread dissolves from where it was hanging over my shoulders.

And I walk more confidently into the market.

Another duty I have is doing desert runs. We are isolated, and certainly do not trade with any other camps, even if we could.

I am not the only one who does it, but I do it the most frequently. I know the desert better than anyone else in Camp Mythos.

In short, I have turned the desert into my own personal market.