K'yon squinted into the distance as the sun beat down on his brows. The journey had been a long and arduous one. His horse needed water badly and he wondered how much of the sweltering heat he could take.

He spat sand out of his mouth and made a grunting sound. Even the horse could sense his irritation. The bloody flies made it worse. All he needed was a cold drink and some shade.

Nudging the horse to the left, he rode west for what seemed like eternity. Any moment now and he would collapse into a heap.

"Tor mer kii yagon. Nuhee aljarika yolim!". He let out a curse.

He stopped for a minute and looked around him. He thought he could make out a shape about 500 yards away. With his hope raised, he got down from the horse and decided to make his way on foot to save the beast what was left of its strength.

Leading the horse gently, he sauntered gently to the object in focus. The sand felt scalding hot even with the slippers he wore. He didn't know how much of the torture he could take any more. He hoped beyond hope that he was right about the object he was walking to.

A few yards ahead, his hope was rewarded as he saw not one, but several trees in the distance. Luxuriant green canopies of branches formed a shade he was dreaming of for days. There had to be water! He swore he could see the excitement in his horse's eyes at this knowledge.

"Ya ha le!" he cried.

Inching forward with all his strength, he finally came to a large oasis of clear water. He broke into a run and lunged forward. Water never tasted sweeter in his entire life. The horse was already down to business and drinking to its fill.

After filling up on water. He filled his bottles with some of it and proceeded to lie under the cool shade.

The last thing he heard before drifting off to sleep was the satisfied grunt of his horse.

The city was abuzz with excitement. You could feel it in the air. The gaiety, the contagious exuberance, the music, the aroma of different delicacies, the festive fashion brought Lunek to life in a way that occurs this time of the year. It was the Festival of Harvest; a festival that brought people from all walks of Life together. Any visitor to Lunek during the festival attests to the grandiose display of rich culture and agrarian wealth of the people.

Toreth beamed with a smile as he admired his harvest for the year. The gods have been kind to him. The loss he suffered was negligible and none of his livestock cast their young. He turned round to look for Aslam, his first son. The young man was very hardworking, he admitted. Sometimes he felt he was working a bit too hard.

‘Aslam! Aslaaaaam! Aslam!’ He shouted.

He wondered where he might have disappeared to.

‘Aslaaaaam!’ He bellowed again.

This time he heard Aslam replying to his call.

‘Father! I will be with you in a minute. I am loading the last of the bag of grains onto the cart.’ Aslam replied.

He walked to where he heard his son. He noticed he was struggling to lift the last bag of grain.
He reached to help him but Aslam was quicker and loaded it before his father could help.

‘That is the last of it. We are on our way to the temple.’ Aslam said.

‘Did you pick the best of the sheep I told you to? You know the High Priest is always particular about the sheep looking spotless.’ Toreth replied with a chuckle.

‘I did Father. We should be on our way now. I want to get back in time to get ready for the evening celebration.’

‘Ah! How could I forget? Manesh is playing the lyre tonight and the circus from Asrath will be performing. I don’t want to miss that either. You know, you can pick the best bag of wine from the lot I usually reserve. You deserve it.’

‘Oh, thank you Father!.’ Aslam gushed.

‘Run along now. There is a rush to the temple.’

With that, Aslam proceeded to leave for the temple. Toreth, satisfied that everything was running smoothly went to look for his wife.