(This is a short story I have been writing for a while. Depending on how people like it I will post new parts to it. )

Cyris stepped onto the dark red sands of the Ruby Desert. He checked to make sure his swords were at his waist. He looked up to the black night above him. The stars twinkled brightly and the large full moon shined brighter then anything in the sky. He took a deep breath of the cold night air and began forward.

The Ruby Desert was named after the sand. At night the sand would shine a bright ruby red. There were many reports of missing people who went into the desert and disappeared.

After what seemed like half the night Cyris stopped to take a rest. He brought out his water canteen and took a swig of the water. Something caught his sight out of the corner of his eye.

There was a bright shining circle of light on the sandy ground. “What’s that?” he asked himself. He put his canteen back in his pack and walked over to the circle of light.

He looked at it, being wary of not getting too close in case it was something dangerous. He took another step forward and the sand around him began to sink. “What the!?” said startled. He tried to get to firm ground but there wasn’t any in this burning desert.

Cyris was being slowly pulled to the ring of light. He fell down and clawed at the sand, trying to free himself from the deserts strong clutches, but it was futile. His feet reached the circled and he began to sink beneath the sand. His screams were muffled by the sand as his head sank underneath the ruby sands.

It felt like forever, slowly falling through the sands. After a while his lungs began to scream for air. Just at the moment when he would open his mouth and drown on the sand he fell.

Cyris landed hard on the ground. He took a deep breath and relished its gorgeous relief in his lungs. He began to touch his arms and legs, making sure they weren’t broken. When he found out that he was miraculously unharmed he sat up and looked around.

He seemed to be in a different world entirely. The ground was hard black, sharp rock. There were frozen waves of sharp rock, some even taller then him. As he looked around him he saw that there weren’t any of the sharp rocks were he had landed. His eyes grew large as he realized what could have happened if he had fallen in a wrong place and landed on one of the tall sharp rocks.

Cyris stood up and looked around. Off, far in the distance was a large tower like castle. He wrinkled his brow in thought wondering what it was. “Well, I need to find someone,” he said. He reckoned that tower was man made.

He took a deep breath of the stale air and started forward on the sea of razor rocks. He took a step and he slid. His hands flew out, trying to catch himself on something. His hands caught one of the rocks that were about as tall as him. A large deep cut appeared on his hands and blood spilled everywhere. He quickly made himself vertical and looked at his bleeding hands. His face was screwed in pain as he looked. He ripped off some thread from his large and now torn cloak and tied his hands to help stop the bleeding.

Cyris began forward again, being more careful. After what felt like an eternity he reached the tower. He stared up at the glorious magnificence of the man made object and wondered how long it had taken to build such a humongous building. The top of the tower reached almost to the top of the sea of sand above him.

He walked to the large doors that were 10 times taller then him, and knocked with the black metal knocker. After one knock the overly large doors opened. He walked inside and walked down the hall with a ceiling as tall as the doors he had just walked through.

Cyris came to a large circular room. In the middle of the room was a pedestal and a black crystal ball on it. To the left and right were two doors as large as the ones in the front. Directly in front of him, behind the pedestal was a throne with stairs leading up to it. Sitting in the throne was a man.

The man wore black robes with a hood hiding his face. He stood up and put one old knurled hand on the arm of the chair to help himself up. “Welcome to my humble domain,” he said in a raspy voice.