The doorkeeper, inside, watched him with mild eyes. The wind in the canyon roared as it always did at this time of day. The clouds hid the twilit sky from sight, and with the sand stirred in the air by the evening gusts the confused young stranger failed to see the doorkeeper, less than fifty feet from him. The stranger looked frantically about. His surroundings unfamiliar, and hostile he began to panic. "Hello!" He cried loudly. "Is anyone there?" The door keeper stepped out into the canyon, and called. "Come this way, lad!" Slowly, cautiously, the stranger approached his weathered old watcher. "Who are you? Where am I?" He demanded once close enough to be heard. "This is a strange land, and I am a friend if you should trust me." Explained the old man. "Come in, this storm will only get worse with time." The doorkeeper pulled the door shut behind his guest, and it was suddenly very dark. A bright blue light emerged in the doorkeeper's hands from the pocket of his heavy robe. It was some kind of giant slug that glowed bright as a fire. Slug in hand, he bowed toward his guest and then spoke. "I am Ghalim. I welcome you into my home." The stranger hesitated, still unsure of what was happening. After a moment of silence he held his hand out to shake Ghalim's. "I'm David McCormick. Pleased to meet you." Ghalim returned the gesture. David wasted no time in airing his confusion. "What the hell is that?" He pointed at the slug which Ghalim held gently as though he was completely unaware of its presence. Ghalim chuckled at his guests surprise. "This is Mol. He helps me to see in the depths, and in turn I feed him." Mol, who had been vacantly staring about the room, waggled indifferently. "Come." Ghalim invited as he began walking the long corridor away from the door."There are foul things about at night." "Ghalim, do you have any idea how I ended up here?" David asked, following the old man deep into the cave tunnel. "You are brought here by means beyond my knowledge. I am brought here by fate to aid the lost. People such as youself, David." "People such as myself?" "Yes. Those who come to this land without knowledge of how, or why. They appear in the mighty canyon here in this endless desert." Daves last memory flashed before him. He had just lied down to pass out after pulling an all nighter. "I went to sleep, and when I opened my eyes I was lying in sand." He thought aloud. They entered a large cavern. Even with Mol, and his bright cobalt rays only a small portion of the room was visible. Ghalim sat, and set Mol down in front of him. This was where he slept it seemed. -

That night Dave hardly slept. He sat in the presence of Mol, and his new friend who had no problem sleeping. They had talked extensively of their lives prior to their meeting. Dave's restlessness was in part, due to a low feeling he couldnt get past. The feeling of being stuck. So hopelessly stuck that he hadn't even thought to ask Ghalim if there was a way back to his home in all the time they had talked.

In the following days Ghalim taught dave how to survive in the strange desert. They would descend into the depths to collect fresh water and hunt for small eyeless fish in underground rivers. Once they had caught several they would return to the place in the large cavern where they camped. The fish were not particularly tasty, or filling, but they did the job. The old man spent hours watching the canyon where Dave had arrived in case others appeared in need as well, though none ever did. Often during the long days Dave would go outside and wander about, and Ghalim warned Dave of the outside; about beasts and weather. He warned against being out during the end of the day when innevitably clouds gathered, winds pushed violently, and great beasts prowled through the harsh sandstorm that came at the end of everyday. Dave doubted the old man's claims only briefly. After all, his stories of terrible beasts sounded less like fairy tales and more like first hand accounts, having such vivid detail. And any doubt Dave had would be crused when he would come to see evidence of even the most farfetched of things Ghalim told him about. Some mornings there would be footprints in the canyon, and at night Dave would swear he heard noises from the entrance. Noises that broke through the rattling of the wooden door, and the howl of the oppressive wind outside. Dave had only ever brought himself to ask about returning home once in all the time he'd been here. Ghalim had said that if a way existed he did not know of it. Despite the circumstances the two men had become close friends.

They grew accustomed to eachother, and spent their days running through routine, content to do so. But Dave's feeling of hopeless confinement never left. He still slept a great deal less than Ghalim, and he frequently spent that time silently reflecting on his position.

It had been months. Nearly a year surely, though Dave had lost count long ago. He woke first and sat silently, listening to the silence. He decided he needed sunlight and to stretch his legs, so he walked to the door, and opened it. The sun rose pink like a giant peach creeping over the horizon. He stared vacantly outside, enjoying the cool morning air. Suddenly his heart felt heavy with grief. He felt an immense end on its way, like he could hear the grim reaper creeping up on him. He felt his heart race, and the vast bareness of his surroundings bore into his mind, and he felt truly alone; as though his friend would never wake, and he would live the rest of his days by himself, eating cave fish, and sitting by the door waiting for someone to arrive like he had long ago. His sadness was only dwarfed by his feeling of being stuck. Stuck with his fate, and stuck in this place. He fell to his knees, sat quietly, and ran his fingers through the cool sand. Tears welled in his eyes as his old life came flooding back into his mind. He missed his family, and Anna, and his friends from work, but most of all, he missed freedom; the feeling of liberty to carve his own fate through the world. Dave wiped the tears from his eyes, and stood. He began walking. Outward into the boundless ocean of sand. He knew he'd die out here. Assuming the heat and exhaustion didn't end him the nightly storms and monsters definitely would. He knew he was leaving poor old Ghalim to a life of solitude. But he needed this, he needed to end the feeling of being fates puppet. So he walked, and walked, and come nightfall the storms started. And he knew his death was about to come. He heard noises over the storm. Terrifying noises he couldn't place, all around him. A voice rang out over the nightmarish sounds. "Dave." Came her voice, delicate, and rich. Dave looked about frantically. "Anna?" He called in disbelief. "Dave, are you okay?" Asked Anna's voice lightly. "Anna where are you?" Dave yelled searching the shroud of sand for any sign of movement.

Suddenly he felt his leg grabbed by an immense force. He was pulled off his feet, before everything went black.

"Dave?" Anna said. Dave opened his eyes slowly. He was lying in bed. "When did you get home yesterday?" Dave looked at his watch. It was 7:30 pm. " Eleven hours ago." "Did you sleep well?" "Yeah." "Dream of me?" She asked in jest. Dave yawned. "Maybe. Don't remember."

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