Chapter 349: Initiation into a Healer (4)

It was a sprawling desert, with the skeletal frames of animals peaking in the sands along the way. Some were fresh, with traces of blood and flesh as they were gnawed by vultures while others were mostly dull and brittle, eroded by exposure to the differing weather during day and night, breaking under the hooves of the horses that traversed past.

At the lead was the leader of the Meka Clan, riding his horse with an indomitable posture. Following half-a-pace behind, on his right was the Guru and Shishya. The remainder followed in files of three, making a lengthy passage.

The Guru adjusted her posture, struggling to keep pace with the others, displaying her lack of skill in riding the horse. She still maintained enough stability to not embarrass herself, controlling her horse. Seated behind her, the Shishya was finding it hard to remain seated, her body failing to be in sync with the horse's movements.

The leader noticed their struggle, slowing his horse as he aligned with them, making a light bow toward the Guru, "Is the horse not to your liking? We'll change it to the one you desire."

"No, we are fine," The Guru freed her right hand for a second, waving to show she was okay, "I have always travelled on foot, and have seldom ridden a horse. So, I can't control it as well as your warriors at such speeds."

The leader shouted towards the others, "We'll be slowing down a little."

"Thank you," The Guru nodded, finding it easy to control her horse at their current pace. Seeing that she was fine, the leader moved his horse to the front, taking the lead once again. They swiftly travelled through the desert, scaling past dunes of various sizes.

When a fierce wind blew, they would take shelter behind a large dune, resting their horse while waiting for the winds to die down. While they were marching as such, the leader raised his hand, bellowing, "Stop!"

Everyone immediately halted, looking at the leader with gazes of concern. The leader gazed afar, noticing a dust cloud moving about, dismounting his horse as he placed his ear on the sand, listening to something. He then turned around, looking at a Clansman as he made a couple of hand motions.

The Clansmen immediately took off with his horse, sprinting forward, disappearing into the dust cloud after a couple of breaths had passed. He returned after a while, his face pale, covered by red clay, his turban missing.

His body was fully covered by sand, the eyes of his horse red, bordering on the verge of insanity. It weakly arrived, stopping before the leader as it panted. The Clansman said without pause, "Sand-Weaving Scorpions are moving within the dust cloud, numbering more than 30."

"More than 30?" The leader was stunned into silence, his face turning pale. He then gazed at his Clansmen, noticing the fear lingering in them. He sighed, motioning for everyone to rest.

The Guru moved closer to the leader, whispering, "This is a sign of disaster. You would have to alert the other Clans too. Otherwise, the Sand-Weaving Scorpions would annihilate every Clan one by one."

"Please stay with our Clan for the time being. Your presence will reassure us." The leader bowed in gratitude.

"I can't stay for more than 2 days. I'm on a mission myself." The Guru replied.

"Thank you," The leader bowed even lower, his action bringing a smile to the faces of the Clansmen, reassured knowing the Guru would help them.

When the dust cloud passed by, the leader signalled as they resumed their travel, sprinting forth at the maximum speeds their horses could on the sand. They didn't wish to be spotted by the Sand-Weaving Scorpions and show them the way to their Clan.

The Sand-Weaving Scorpion was a beast, similar to the Fire-Tailed Snail. Individually, they were weaker than the Fire-Tailed Snail, as they were often preyed on by it. But they became stronger through numbers, able to use their strengths collectively.

In a group, they can manipulate the sands, creating a massive dust cloud that would give them a significant advantage in their hunts. The greater their number, the stronger the dust cloud they raised. This was why the Meka Clansmen were pale with fright upon spotting such a massive horde of them.

"We are here," The leader sighed in relief, noticing the presence of rocks strewn across the sand, growing in numbers. Soon, they approached an area filled with rocks, noticing a wall of rock, spanning the height of a grown man before them. It was the Meka Clan.

A tower, twice the height of a grown man stood behind the wall, upon which stood two warriors, keeping watch. Seeing the leader's arrival, they motioned for the people below to allow entry.

With a rumbling sound, a small section of the wall moved inside. The section was wide enough to allow a horse to pass through. After moving for a distance, it stopped moving, showcasing a gap on its two sides, wide enough for a horse to pass through either of them.

The Guru looked around, noticing a flat piece of rock a fair distance away, dismounting the horse. The Shishya followed her as the two headed towards the rock, sitting on it to rest their aching backs.

Seeing their actions, the leader could only smile wryly, "The Divya Vaidya stays true to his word."

He then hurried inside to report everything to the Chief. After around 10 breaths had passed, the leader accompanied a man that was a head taller than the rest, his shoulders broad enough to seem like an immovable rock. He was a man of giant stature, the Chief of Meka Clan.

The Clans of the Crimson Desert followed a simple hierarchy in their society. The Chief was the strongest warrior in their Clan, possessing the greatest authority. He was followed by the Clan's Shaman, the lady in charge of inscribing the tattoos on the warriors, and also the Chief's wife. She was also the advisor to the Chief in times of crisis.

Her authority was second only to the Chief. Below them were the leaders, warriors who possessed tattoos. They were the pillar of strength of each Clan, their number dictated the Clan's standing in the Crimson Desert.

Finally, at the bottom were the warriors, forming most of their fighting force. Women did the tasks of rearing cattle, usually, sheep and goat, making dresses out of leather and wool, creating tools for daily use and weapons for battles, etc.

As they were figures who nurtured the next generation, women were revered as the foundation of their Clans. Hence, it was an absolute rule in the Crimson Desert to never kill a woman. Since the Crimson Desert was fraught with dangers, it was also forbidden for a woman to step foot outside her clan, unless her Clan was annihilated and they had to relocate to the Clan of the victors.

There was a famous saying in the Crimson Desert, "Blades of Men, and Urns of Women."

The Chief directly arrived to pay respects to the Guru, "The Meka Clan Chief pays respect to the Divya Vaidya."

The Guru reciprocated her respect, "The Divya Vaidya and his Shishya pay respects to the Meka Clan Chief."

Seeing the Guru's stance, the Shishya too made a respectful gesture. Since her Guru had already greeted on her behalf, she wasn't required to do so. Moreover, she wasn't even qualified to speak with a Chief, so it turned out better for her.

"Even though you are bound by a vow, please don't reject our hospitality," The Chief made a light bow, "We'll set up a tent for you here along with all necessities. Please allow us to do at least this much."

"I'll have to trouble you then," The Guru reciprocated with a light bow. Seeing her understanding, the Chief smiled in happiness and beckoned for his Clansmen to hurry with the preparations.

The Meka Clansmen hurriedly brought out stone pillars that they placed inside dug out holes, erecting them before hardening the sides with some tree sap. They then made the roof using many pieces of goatskin that were stitched together. They selected a flat piece of rock to act as the floor of the tent while layering it with a leather carpet. Another batch brought in food, water, and a change of clothes.

The Chief looked at the Guru, "If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to say it. I'll do everything in my power to satisfy them."

"I don't plan on imposing you for free," The Guru looked at the entrance to the Meka Clan, "In my stay here, I'll treat all your injured. It would also be helpful for you in defending against the Sand-Weaving Scorpions."

"Thank you," The Chief's eyes moistened as he made a deeper bow, despite his status. He then spoke with a solemn tone, "As for the Sand-Weaving Scorpions, we'll rally the other Clans to resist them."

Saying his piece, the Chief left the area, making the leader stay behind as protection. The Shishya made eye contact with the Guru, requesting to speak in private. The Guru nodded and moved to the side, creating some distance from the others so that their conversation would be inaudible to them.

"Guru, you would be overtaxing yourself by treating more injured. You've already activated your tattoo thrice today." The Shishya expressed her dissatisfaction.

"Once I eat my fill, I'll be able to activate my tattoo another three times." The Guru smiled, "The Crimson Desert is laden with dangers, a day of peace is hard to come by. It is for the best if you relax yourself at this time. As for me, treating the injured is what I seek. So, I won't be pushing myself."

"I don't know if I can become someone like you one day, Guru." The Shishya bowed her head in shame, "I feel like they are treating us this nicely only because you can treat their injured. Otherwise, they wouldn't even bother helping us. When I think that way, I don't feel like helping them, even if I have the ability to do so."

"Everyone's fate is set in store for them the moment they are born," The Guru looked into the horizon, "But, humans cannot determine their fate, for the heavens are vast. But, until we can grasp our fate, we have to abide by our duty, our duty to the people, and our duty to the world."

"Duty," The Shishya murmured, feeling something resound in her mind. She closed her eyes, on the verge of attaining enlightenment.

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