Compelled

Far more compelling than anything Islana had ever felt before, was this pull which had taken hold and reached up from some place deep inside of her. There was no attempt to fight it, no resistance, the young witch was deep in its grasp.

All that was with the redhead was: her clothing, the robes of the desert and cloak, one waterskin and, ever faithful, Kaithak flying overhead. Yet, there was not even the slightest thought of turning back.

The pull was taking the young witch where she needed to go, even if Islana had no idea where that was. It was beyond logic, yet made complete sense to her.

Pushing on into the night with no sense of time. Feet dragged through the sand, only protected by the closed toed sandals bought before the excursion into the desert. Scorpions, snakes, lizards all let her pass, with no issue, at least for the moment.

Thoughts of the past seemed to be pushed into the background by the ever present quest. Out of everything that had happened in her life, Islana somehow knew this was the most important.