The Sandy Oasis Escape

The fire had burned low, casting long shadows over the quiet camp. The last sliver of twilight had bled away, leaving only the stars and the dying coals to light the sand. Most of the slaves lay curled under tattered blankets or against the cages, worn down by the day's labor. Levi stayed awake beside his mother, her arm wrapped around his thin frame.

He let his fingers play with the loose strings on her sleeve, the silence between them still soft from their earlier talk. It wasn't peace—not really—but it was close. Then the wind shifted. It came with a low gust, carrying the faint scent of smoke and blood—something metallic, like rusted steel or scorched iron. His mother tensed immediately. Her arm tightened around him. Her eyes lifted to the dark ridge just beyond the camp's edge.

"Mama?" Levi whispered. She didn't answer, but her body had gone rigid.

Then the first scream ripped across the camp. A harsh, desperate cry, too far from the guard posts to be a drill. A moment later, a shout followed—a guard's voice, cracking with alarm. "We're under attack!" Steel clanged against steel. The hiss of a blade dragging through flesh came next. A second scream was cut off sharply, followed by the galloping sound of boots and hooves kicking up sand.

The camp exploded into chaos.

Guards burst from their tents half-dressed, swords drawn, faces twisted in confusion. "Get to the wagons!" one of them barked. "Move! They're inside the perimeter!" Levi was frozen, heart hammering in his chest. His mother shoved him low, crouching with him near a stack of crates. "Stay behind me," she said, breath short. "Don't move unless I tell you." Another guard's voice boomed over the rising panic. "All able bodies! Slaves too! I don't care who you are—grab something and fight!"

A whip cracked through the air, not at a prisoner—but toward the wagons where they stored rusted weapons. "You! You heard me!" a soldier snarled at a large chained man. "Fight or die, either way!"

More guards started unlocking slave shackles, tossing out dull blades, cracked spears, anything to make bodies useful. A woman screamed as a torch was thrown through the air, catching on dry cloth and lighting a nearby tent ablaze.

Levi's mother turned toward the growing fire, jaw clenched. "They'll overrun the camp before sunrise," she said. "If they want us to fight, it means we're outnumbered."

"What do we do?" Levi clung to her.

Before she could answer, a group of bandits stormed through the southern ridge—faces wrapped in cloth, blades glinting in the firelight. One of them threw a hooked chain at a guard, yanking him from his feet like a doll.

One of the wagons overturned with a crash, and screams followed.

"They'll come for the children," his mother said bitterly. "They always do."

Another guard ran by, blood trailing from his side. "Defensive ring around the cages!" he barked. "Cover the northern line!"

"You—get up!" another soldier shouted at Levi's mother, pointing a rusted short sword at her. "You want to live? Fight!"

She met his gaze coldly. "I've been fighting since before you learned to piss straight."

The guard blinked, then shoved a blade into her hands and ran off.

Levi watched her stand, still shielding him with her body.

"Stay here," she said firmly, crouching low enough to look him in the eyes. "If something happens to me, you keep going. You hear me? You run. You hide. You survive."

"No," he whispered, tears prickling. "Please don't go."

"I have to," she said. "You were born breathing after silence, Levi. You're meant to live." With that, she turned, clutching the sword tight, and disappeared into the smoke.

The firelight caught on her figure for only a second—just long enough for Levi to see her stride into the chaos.The clash of steel tore through the night like thunder, sharp and unrelenting. Screams layered over shouted orders. Horses shrieked and reared, ripping their reins from stakes. Tents billowed and collapsed as flames devoured canvas, roaring with hungry tongues of fire. Thick black smoke curled upward, staining the stars—an omen, a death cry, a signal of doom. Chaos didn't just touch the camp. It consumed it.

Levi crouched low behind a wall of overturned supply crates, the dry wood scorching against his back as heat from the nearby fire licked the air. His knees trembled. His heart thundered in his chest, every beat a jarring throb that drowned out thought. His throat burned from breathing too fast.

He could still feel it—his mother's last embrace. The press of her hand at the back of his neck. The way she'd looked at him, fire in her eyes, fear buried beneath the steel in her voice.

"Stay hidden. No matter what."

But he couldn't.

He hadn't.

Every breath he took without her beside him felt like a betrayal. The air didn't belong in his lungs when she might not be breathing.

He peeked out from the crates.

The camp was a battlefield.

Guards and bandits clashed in frenzied skirmishes. Some screamed in rage. Others in agony. The ground was a graveyard of the newly dead—bodies curled in unnatural shapes, weapons still clutched in lifeless fingers. Blood soaked into the sand, turning it to mud.

Some slaves had fled. Others had fought. One cage lay shattered, its iron door twisted, chains discarded. Levi saw it all in broken flashes, but his eyes locked on one thing

Her.

His mother, moving with terrifying grace ner the central fire pit, her braid dark and whipping behind her as she ducked and parried. Her blade flashed silver in the firelight, slicing through smoke and shadow. She was alone. Again.

Two more bandits circled toward her, flanking fast.

His stomach dropped. He couldn't just sit and wait—not while she was surrounded.

He moved.

His legs were too short. His steps uneven. But he ran anyway, weaving between the burning skeletons of tents and bodies that twitched in their last breaths. Smoke scratched at his eyes. Sparks bit at his skin. He had no sword. No armor. Just his small fists and something sharper—a need that cut deeper than fear.

He found it by chance: a jagged shard of metal near a shattered cookpot, still hot from the fire. It had a curled edge, blackened and sharp.

It was enough.

He tightened his grip, the heat of it searing into his palm, and ran toward the central fire like a storm.

One of the bandits raised his sword, blade glinting as he stepped behind her—silent, lethal.

Levi didn't think. He didn't hesitate.

"Leave her alone!" he screamed.

The bandit turned, confused, just as Levi slammed the metal shard into the side of his thigh—deep, crooked. The scream that followed was pure fury and pain.

The man crumpled.

His mother spun on instinct, blade up, eyes blazing. She didn't even recognize him at first. Blood streaked her face, and her arm was shaking, but her expression shattered when she saw the boy standing behind the falling man.

"Levi!"

Another bandit charged. She turned in a blink, caught the incoming blade with her own, sparks exploding between them just inches from Levi's head. Her muscles locked. She twisted hard and shoved the sword upward, punching through the man's ribs with a sickening crunch. He dropped at her feet.

Then she grabbed Levi and dragged him behind a toppled wagon, her body shielding his.

Her chest heaved.

"You—are you insane?!" she hissed, voice broken and wild. "I told you to hide!"

He couldn't meet her eyes. He looked down instead, at his hands—bloody, shaking.

"You would've died," he said, voice small.

Her breath hitched.

She dropped to her knees in front of him, arms crushing him into her chest, forehead pressed to his. Her hands trembled as they held him, tighter than ever before.

"I'm your mother," she whispered fiercely. "You are not supposed to save me."

His throat tightened. He didn't answer.

The ground trembled beneath them as something exploded near the camp's edge. A guard tower collapsed in a storm of fire and ash. Screams followed—louder, raw. But they didn't move yet. Not until the rumble passed.

Then she pulled back, hands still cupping his face.

"We're getting out of here. Together. Understand me?"

Levi nodded.

She stood and reached down, grabbing a sword from the ground—thicker than hers, meant for a full-grown fighter. She held it out to him, hilt-first. It was heavy. Too heavy. But his fingers wrapped around it anyway.

He could barely lift it.

But she didn't take it back.

"Then come," she said. "We move now."

And in that blood-lit night, surrounded by fire, death, and defiance, Levi did not feel small.

He felt alive.

Alive enough to fight.The fire raged around them, wild and unyielding. The heat burned his skin, but Levi didn't notice it. His chest was tight with adrenaline, his heart hammering in his throat as he gripped the sword. His body shook under the weight, but the pulse of urgency in his veins drowned out any sense of fear. He wasn't a child anymore—not here, not now.

His mother was right beside him, guiding him through the chaos, moving with precision despite the carnage surrounding them. Every step was a fight for survival, every breath a gamble. But they were together.

Levi stumbled, almost dropping the sword as he tried to keep pace with her, but she never slowed down. She couldn't. The camp was falling apart, and the sounds of violence were everywhere—the clash of swords, the screams, the cries for mercy, and the frantic thuds of horses galloping past.

"We can't stop," she grunted, her voice tight, urgent. "Keep moving."

He didn't argue. He just followed her, the ground trembling beneath them as another explosion rocked the camp. The air was thick with smoke, making it harder to see and breathe, but it didn't matter. He had to keep up. He had to make sure they got out.

They passed a group of slaves, some armed with crude weapons, others running in the opposite direction, their faces streaked with blood and dirt. Levi could barely make out their expressions through the haze. Fear. Desperation. Hope. The hope they'd never known before tonight.

They were all running. But Levi couldn't stop. Not now.

His eyes scanned the camp as they moved, searching for threats. A bandit appeared from the smoke, sword raised, but Levi didn't hesitate. He swung the sword with all his might, the weight almost throwing him off balance. The blade clattered off the man's armor, but it still cut deep, sending him stumbling back.

"Go!" his mother ordered, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward.

Levi followed, breathing heavily, chest tight. He glanced back, wondering if they were being pursued, but the camp was a blur of fire and bodies. He couldn't tell. He couldn't afford to think about it. Not now. They reached the edge of the camp, where the trees began, the darkness swallowing them as they stepped into the forest. The battle sounds faded slightly, replaced by the crackling of fire behind them. Levi stopped for a moment, catching his breath. His mother was already looking ahead, her expression sharp, scanning the trees for any sign of movement.

"Keep moving," she said softly, her voice calmer now, but still strained.

Levi nodded, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, feeling the sweat and blood mix into the grime on his skin. The weight of the sword was still heavy in his grip, but he didn't drop it. Not yet.

As they moved further into the forest, the sound of the camp's destruction grew distant, but Levi knew they weren't safe yet. They needed a plan. They needed to survive.

And they needed to keep moving.

"We'll find somewhere safe," his mother murmured, though her eyes were distant, lost in the night ahead.

Levi didn't respond. He just nodded again. He didn't care where they went, as long as they were together. They would fight for that. Fight for the life they could build beyond the flames. The life they could claim for themselves, away from the hell they had just escaped.

Together, they were unstoppable.

The thought settled deep in his chest. It was all he needed.

The flames still raged behind them, but the smoke was beginning to thin as the chaos of the camp burned itself out. Levi's heart hammered in his chest, each thundering beat a reminder of everything they had just survived. His legs burned from the sprinting, his breath ragged in the dry, desert air. His hands were still trembling, the grip on the heavy sword digging into his palm.

The sand beneath his bare feet was hot, the ground a never-ending stretch of bleak, arid desert that seemed to stretch into infinity. There was no forest to hide in, no shelter from the open, unforgiving landscape. It was just endless stretches of sand, a world without cover.

His mother didn't stop. She kept moving, her eyes scanning the horizon for danger, her every muscle tense with readiness. But Levi couldn't focus on the horizon anymore. His thoughts were a chaotic swirl, a swirl that made him think that kept pulling him back to Sera.

He couldn't shake the image of her—her bound wrists, her wide eyes filled with fear as the chaos unfolded. He couldn't let her stay behind, not after what she'd done for him.

"Sera…" Levi breathed, his throat tight.

His mother slowed just enough to glance over her shoulder, her eyes flicking to him with a mix of concern and irritation. "We can't go back, Levi. It's too dangerous."

Levi's grip on the sword tightened, the hilt cold in his hands. His fingers dug into it, forcing himself to focus. "I can't leave her.She doesn't know this place. I can't just—" His voice faltered, the weight of the situation crashing over him.

His mother's face softened, and for a brief moment, Levi saw the woman who had protected him all his life—the woman who had sacrificed so much just to keep him alive. She wasn't a soldier. She wasn't a fighter. She was just his mother. But she understood him more than anyone.

She exhaled sharply, her gaze hardening. "Fine," she said, her voice low but resolute. "We go back. But we move fast. We don't waste time."

Levi nodded without hesitation, his pulse quickening.

She turned, leading the way back toward the camp. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and burning flesh. The sounds of combat were fading, but they still echoed in the distance—shouts, screams, the clash of steel—those noises were now distant memories, slowly dying in the wake of the flames.

As they neared the edge of the camp again, Levi's stomach twisted. He felt his mother's hand on his shoulder, guiding him through the smoke, urging him to stay low. He could barely see through the haze of heat and dust, but his focus was on one thing: Sera.

The camp was barely recognizable now. The once bustling area was reduced to scattered wreckage and burning debris. Levi's eyes scanned the remnants of the slave cages, looking for movement. And then, like a spark in the dark, he saw her—Sera.

She was crouched behind the remnants of a toppled crate, her face streaked with dirt and blood, her wrists still bound. She looked like a shadow in the smoke, barely noticeable among the chaos. But Levi knew her, knew that face, even in the mess of destruction.

His mother caught his eye, and her expression hardened. "We need to be quick," she muttered, her voice low and urgent. "We can't afford to get caught. We've already betrayed the slave traders so if they win and catch us we're dead."

They moved silently, sliding through the smoke and the ruin. Every step was calculated, careful. Levi's heart pounded in his chest, but he focused, keeping his attention on Sera, making sure they weren't seen.

They crouched low, slipping between the remnants of the shattered camp. His mother kept her eyes trained ahead, but Levi's gaze never wavered from Sera.

She was still struggling against the ropes, her hands bloody from the friction, her breath ragged. She didn't see them approach until Levi's mother was right beside her. Then, Sera's dark eyes locked with his, confusion flickering in them, but there was something else too. Recognition. Gratitude.

"Levi?" Her voice was hoarse, a whisper. "You—how?"

His mother was already cutting through the rope with a small dagger, her movements swift and efficient. "We don't have time for explanations," she said. "Get up, we need to move."

Sera blinked, disoriented at first, then her eyes hardened with a mix of determination and raw need. She nodded, though her legs wobbled as she stood. Levi reached out a hand instinctively, catching her arm to steady her. For a moment, there was a strange silence between them, the sound of flames crackling in the background, the smell of ash thick in the air.

Sera's face softened, her eyes meeting his, and for the first time since they'd met, she didn't look so angry . There was a flicker of something. "You came back for me," she whispered confused and in a teasing tone.

Levi nodded, his throat to tight to speak.

His mother glanced over her shoulder, then motioned for them to move. "Enough talk. We need to go."

Sera stumbled forward, her hand gripping Levi's as they slipped through the remnants of the camp, moving swiftly and silently as shadows in the night. Every step took them farther away from the burning destruction, but the weight of the desert around them never seemed to lighten.

The dry sand crunched beneath their feet, stretching endlessly ahead, the air thick with heat, but Levi didn't care. He had Sera. He had his mother. They were still alive, and for now, that was enough.

They would keep moving. Keep surviving.

And nothing would stop them.

Or so he thought.

As they moved further into the desert, the flickering lights of the burning camp slowly faded behind them, swallowed by the vastness of the night. The wind whipped the sand in stinging gusts, but they didn't slow. Their steps were quiet, almost hesitant, as though the land itself could still feel the violence of the camp's destruction.

Levi's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a reminder of how close they had come to death. His mother moved like a shadow, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon, always alert. Sera clung to Levi's side, her grip tight, her eyes darting between him and his mother, as though unsure of what to make of the quiet space between them.

"I thought you left me," Sera muttered, breaking the silence as they trudged forward.

Levi's breath hitched. He wasn't sure what to say to that. He had almost left her. He had almost turned away, thinking it would be better to just leave, to get away while he could. But in the end, his feet had carried him back. Not because he was a hero, but because he couldn't leave her behind. He hadn't known why. Not fully. But now, with his mother beside him and Sera's hand in his, it felt like the right choice.

"You're not alone," he finally said, his voice hoarse.

Sera didn't answer, but her hand tightened around his.

The desert stretched on, endless and unyielding, the only sound the faint rush of the wind. Levi's mother slowed for a moment, looking back over her shoulder, eyes narrowed as she searched the darkened horizon. Levi stopped too, his pulse rising in his throat, but she waved him forward, signaling for them to keep moving.

"Keep your heads low," she muttered under her breath. "We're not out of danger yet. We need to find cover. There are likely scouts still out here. They'll be looking for us."

Levi nodded, though the words felt heavy, like they were pressing down on him. His mother had always been sharp, always knowing what to do, how to keep them alive. But out here, in the open, in the endless stretch of sand, nothing felt safe.

As they moved forward, Levi's mind kept drifting back to the camp. The sound of screams. The roar of flames. His mother's fierce determination as she fought. He'd almost lost her. Almost lost everything.

Suddenly, a small sound caught his ear. He froze, looking ahead. A distant echo of something—a shout? A snap of a branch, maybe. He squinted, trying to see anything that might give him a clue.

"Keep moving," his mother said, her voice low and sharp. "Don't stop. Don't look back."

They moved on, the miles stretching on endlessly, but Levi couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't alone. The air was too still now. Too quiet.

His mother seemed to sense it too. She picked up the pace, urging them forward, her eyes flicking to every shadow, every movement in the distance. The tension in the air was thick enough to taste, but they kept going, their footfalls swallowed by the night.

Then, in the distance, Levi saw it: the faint outline of a cliff. A rock formation that could provide shelter. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"Over there," Levi whispered, pointing.

His mother nodded. "Good. We'll rest there, regroup, and figure out what to do next."

Sera didn't say anything, but she quickened her pace, her hand never leaving Levi's side as they moved toward the shelter. Every second felt like an eternity.

They reached the rocks, and Levi's mother signaled for them to stop. She peered around the cliff, checking for any sign of pursuit. When she was satisfied, she motioned for them to enter the small crevice between two large rocks. It was just enough space to hide in, but not much more.

They crouched in the darkness, their breaths shallow, as the wind howled outside. Levi's mind raced. They were safe for now, but for how long? The desert could swallow them whole if they weren't careful. The shadows seemed to press in around them, the weight of the night pressing on his shoulders.

"We stay here for the night," his mother said, her voice low and commanding. "Tomorrow, we move again. We need to find water. A place to hide until we can get far enough away."

Sera sat down beside Levi, her back against the rock, her eyes staring out into the endless desert. Levi felt the silence settle around them. They were alive. But they were not safe yet.

And that realization gnawed at him, making his chest tighten.

"Where are we going?" Sera finally asked, breaking the silence once more.

Levi's mother glanced at her, a flicker of something passing through her eyes. "Far from here. We'll make it. Just keep moving, and keep quiet. And if anyone comes for us… we fight."

Levi nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he looked out into the darkness. It was all he could do. All they could do.

And in the silence that followed, as they all sat there together, the desert stretching on endlessly before them, one thought echoed in Levi's mind:

They had made it this far. They weren't dead yet. And that was enough to keep fighting for.