Azrel Ashari walked slowly and tragically through the Anfauglir Desert. He lifted up part of the makeshift headband he partly ripped out of his deep sage robe. The hot sun pounded against the already hot sand. He shoes were ripping against the rough-surfaced grains of sand, and the desert seemed to go on endlessly. He was traveling upon an ancient, obscure trail that would eventually lead him through the Anfaulgir. He felt extremely parched, so he decided to take a drink from a small water sachel. The warm water poured down his throat, making him feel great. He couldn't even notice that it had lost its chill, and that it was actually pretty warm by now. He was sweating profusesly, mainly on his forehead.

He took off the headband and poured some of the water onto it, so when he put it on, it would cool down his forehead. He kept trudging on through the intense heat, upon the Trail of a Thousand Tears. He had heard stories about it from a tavern he stayed in the night before he came to the Anfaulgir. An old, battleworn sailor told him that many people have died on the trail, but it was one of the quickest ways through the desert. It also did not encounter many wild animals, other then a few strays.

Azrel had expected to meet up with one of his old friends, Nero Sen Blade. They were friends a long time ago, and heard that Nero would be comming by the Anfaulgir soon anyways, so he decided to meet him there. Azrel was not sure where Nero was going, but he was excited to meet him again. I wonder what he will be like, if anything has changed since before. He was awesome, Azrel thought to himself as he kept walking.

He looked wordlessly towards his torn-up feet. They had sustained a lot of damage during his journey so far, mainly because they were made out of only cloth. The bottom of his robe had also gotten frayed and torn as well, because it was a tad-bit too long for him, and dragged a little bit on the ground. He looked very unkept, and if anyone were to see him at the moment, the only positive thing about him is the scabbard he keeps his longsword sheathed in on his right side, because it was still in perfect condition. This was not the kind of traveling a magic wielder should be going, because traveling full-scale through the Angfaulgir could be extremely dangerous if you do not know what you are doing. Luckily for Azrel, he was a Swordsage. Although he was highly proficient with magic, he also knew a thing or two about close combat, making him more then capable of surviving.

Azrel hoped that Nero would come soon, as being lonely was not very fun at all for him, and could use some extra supplies. It was sometime in the afternoon, so the hottest part of the day had already happened, but the beaming sun still pounded atop poor Azrel's head, making him very uncomfortable. He wasn't sure if Nero, or anyone else of that matter would even be able to find him, but he decided to keep traveling and hoping, just in case. Before he did this though, he dropped from his standing posture, and knelt right then and there in the hot sand. It was never to late for a prayer, and being the spiritual man he was, Azrel almost needed to pray. He specifically thanked and requested from the Moon and Kieraline, because he they were the two that he had left after his cruel banishment. He said this one in specific to the moon, so that it would engulf the scorching skies with peace and solitude, and also take away the beaming Sun's rays.

Nero steadily walked through the desert adroitly. Anywhere he could stop for shade he did. He came upon the position of a bandit. "Do not cause me any harm as I will return the favor..." Nero said with a low cautious voice as he passed the bandit. Upon reaching the spot the bandit was at, the bandit whispered something...though Nero couldn't catch it. After walking past the man, Nero heard a whiz through the air. It had been the snapping of the end of the cloth that was draping off the bandit that was currently spinning around. Nero smiled as he thought to himself: I warned him... He went forward with great speed as he cart wheeled past an incoming dagger. Nero then swept the bandit with his leg at close range as he watched him fall to the ground. Nero watched the bandit as he trembled. "Don't worry...I won't hurt you. My intentions were just to disarm you, which I have." Nero said holding the dagger. With two hands he broke it easily as the dagger had been small and flimsy to increase speed.

Nero turned from bandit as he walked forward again. The suns rays were casting down upon Nero as he stopped for a rest. He was getting tired. His intentions were to get to the nearest city that was available in order to rest. Though he didn't think it would be hard to go to a city without being jumped every three seconds. Nero was more skilled in his staff then he knew he was. More then once he was helped in battle to his knowledge of his staff and how it performed in the air. Nero kept walking forward as he cracked a smile: My shoes are breaking in more then I wanted them to. How much father until I reach a town... The wanderer then started walking again this time sighing from time to time. The sun's rays were starting to get unbearable and Nero didn't know how much longer he could go in without just stopping. He put his hand to his head as he wiped off beads of sweat that had been forming on his forehead. In the distance he could see a figure...It wasn't that clear but he could see it. Upon walking forward a few more minutes, he found that he couldn't get anymore closer then he already was. He then concluded that it must be a moving object and therefore he must see what it actually was. Nero stopped taking breaks as he walked forward, but now more steadily...more...clever fully. He knew he would have to take the necessary precautions in order to survive the desert and see what the thing was. Nero wasn't trying to be mean...but he didn't know what could be out in the desert.

Further reaching the target, he could now make out very vague details. Nero could notice that the person or thing that was traveling was in poor shape...due to the outline of its figure. Most of clothing...or whatever was on the thing was ripped and tattered. He noticed the figure taking more break stops. Something Nero would have to start doing. He was covered in sweat by his perilous journey in order to try and catch the person or creature, and didn't want to take any chances at all. I must be getting close...I can see a lot more details now. Nero thought to himself as he put his stave on his back. It was starting to get a little bit much to carry the staff on him and travel. His hand was also getting sweaty as he pulled out a canteen of water out and splashed some in his face. He still wasn't close enough for the figure to know he was there unless it used some type of magic. Upon further investigation, Nero was only about 15 feet away as he noticed it was a person that was traveling. Being very cautious in his method of approaching the person he put his hand on the shoulder. As the person turned around Nero's face suddenly turned as his mouth came a little way open from the pure suprisement. "Azrel..."

Azrel was surprised as someone tapped on his shoulder. Reacting instinctively, he unsheathed his broadsword as he turned around, about to cut through whoever was behind him; however when he had seen who it was, his broadsword dropped to the sandy ground. A small cloud of dust arose as the blade cut into the soft, shifting grains of earth. The man that had turned Azrel around was no assassin, thief or demon. It was his great friend, Nero Sen Blade. His jaw dropped in astonishment, as he looked better then he ever had before. He had stone-black hair, which in the sun, had a small shine. He had the same intimidating, bright red eyes, which was one of his best features. Nero was even more pale then Azrel himself, and wore all black clothing. This would probably end up being a problem in the desert, as the color black tended to heat up quickly.

Azrel finally regained his poor composure, feeling mortified for being in such a bad, and unkempt attire. He knew Nero though, and he wouldn’t care that much. He heard Nero mutter, “Azrel…,” and Azrel faintly smiled. He replied back in a soft tone, “Nero… It is, great to see you… You look, astonishing…” Azrel looked back at himself, but decided that he could get a new robe soon, maybe at the nearest town or so. It was until then, that he couldn’t realize how mistreated and desecrated the land he was standing in was. There was bones littered all about, the result of bandits, assassins and raids. Azrel knew that some of them were from the harsh, unforgiving weather, but most of them couldn’t be.

It was this unintentional fact that led him to realize that there was a probability that they would be attacked. He reached down for his longsword, and carefully sheathed it into its scabbard. He left his right hand on it, just so he would be safe. Although the chances were low that they would be attacked while together, it couldn’t hurt. He turned around, away from Nero and closed his eyes. Azrel then started muttering something, probably a prayer of some sort. The swordsage was not sure if Nero was as spiritual as he was, or if he even worshipped a deity.

Azrel tensed up, feeling another presence in the area. He wasn’t sure if it meant harm, or even if it was a Human. Whatever it was, the two had to be cautious. Azrel barely moved his lips when he quietly told Nero, “I don’t want you to be alarmed, because it might just be my imagination; but I have a feeling like someone is watching us, make sure you keep an eye out. It may be coming from that large sand dune just over that ridge, we should just keep walking.” The Half-Angel stopped talking, and started moving forwards, and noticed that it was actually starting to get dark out. He kept walking a bit, not checking to see if Nero was following him. He wished that he had some sort of way to know what it was, but had no idea what to do. Azrel tripped a bit over something in the ground, and turned back to see what it was. It was some sort of really hard root, just sticking up in the ground. He tried kicking it, but nothing happened, and it stayed completely there. Azrel shrugged it off and kept going, still trying to be as aware of his surroundings as he could. In the back of his mind, he knew that something was going to happen this night in the Anfaulgir. The two friends did not go to the Desert by just a coincidence.

Nero had brought up his staff reluctantly to parry to the large broadsword, but as it was dropped to the ground, Nero put his staff behind him again as he strapped it back on. He watched his old friend say something to himself as he looked at his hand. An emblem that he had drew with simple artist abilities...there was the symbol of fire. He placed it back into one of the simplist pockets that was in his robe. He glanced around as the beams of light had started to dye down. Nero was happy for this as his clad black cloths were starting to get a little bit to warm for comfort. As he looked forward he saw his friend was already starting off without him. Still quite how I know him. He likes going about things in a certain way that only he can make. He has a unique-ness that no other can match in this world.Nero smiled to himself at the fact he had presented himself with. He looked forward again as he saw a dust cloud created. Something heavy and vast was out there. He could see it before Azrel had talked. He agreed to this fact in his head as he went over the possiblities. The bandit he had disarmed might of come back with his buddies in order to dispose of him. No... Nero thought, he knew that bandit's didn't do things that way. He had a past of bandits he did, but never really had thought of it. Nero was one to try and keep peace between two groups, if there was a descrepency then Nero would try to resolve the matter using peace terms. He never thought violence should be used if it wasn't nessacary, he always that words were the more peaceful and calming way to settle a dispute.

He took out another gulp of water out of his canteen as he looked at his friend. [I]Somewhat determined...but...I don't know why. He always had seemed determined. He needs to start putting himself in front of things he does though...it can cleary be shown by the cloths he was wearing. I know that he was shunned by his family and all. And that is hard but sometimes you really do need to put yourself in front of things your doing. His cloths were starting to cool off and sweat evaporating from the journey he had done earlier to what he thought was a threat had actually been his friend. Nero didn't know why his friend was in the desert in the first place. He never got to ask the question as Azrel had started off so soon without any proper greetings. Nero accepted this feature of his friend, fore he was one to put himself in front of other things. He respected this of his friend, though always thought that he should take care of himself more properly. He looked away from his friend and into the now shining moon. It was a peaceful time in the desert at the time. It was nice to enjoy the quiet niceness of the desert and the eqaulity between the animals and humans during the night. The moon was full tonight, and shun it's beams onto the ground. He saw this affected his friends speed and aspects somewhat, for his senses had seemed to be heightened. Nero then looked forward again following his friend.