Yes, the desert seems like a place of wonder and exotic beauty to all those who have not been raised in it's daily life. But like every other city in the world, there are secrets that hide behind the red-stone facades and in the dark alleys. And I, born and raised in these streets, know full well the secrets that lie there.

I am one of those most unfortunate children who face the taunting reality that they have but one parent. Thank the stars that that failed to ever bother me. I grew up blissfully unaware that it was generally considered inadequate for a young woman like my mother to raise a child conceived while unwed, which never bothered my mother either to tell you the truth. My grandfather and grandmother were of course horrified, having themselves been wed young by their parents and taught the strict ways of society. To this day neither my grandparents nor I know who my father is, as my mother was careful to keep her lips shut.

And so, I was born. I was born into a somewhat nomadic tribe, one that traveled from city to city to trade, buy, sell, and to perform acts to earn money, often staying at those cities for years at a time. I was brought up by my mother, who would never marry, and my grandparents, who would never remain upset at my mother for long. And in my first years of girlhood I lived in a safe little world created by my family, dressed in little white saris and with everything I wanted. My little white girlhood? Ignorant as only children can be, entranced by the music and colors like the tourists who come to visit our city. Momma was happy. She sold clothing she made herself, beautiful saris of the most brilliant reds, most dazzling pinks and purples, and the deepest blues, all woven with golden thread.

I would never have fathomed that my life would have changed completely by the tender age of eight. I always pictured myself growing up in our family tribe, learning how to make saris like my mother and dancing on street corners with my cousins. I remember being in my room; in a home we had on the edge of the city, playing dolls with those cousins when our tribe leader barged in through the door. He was a tall Kyrii, built like a bull and weathered from his many years on the oceans of sand. However, a recent encounter with alcohol had made him frequent anywhere that carried the vile substance, and his addiction was a recent development which everyone had taken note of. He stood at the doorway, with his eyes red and his hair matted with sweat, and staggered across the room towards us. Behind him followed another man, a gelert I believe, although I wasn't paying attention. The latter came to stand beside our leader as he studied the little girls sitting on the floor.

Which one is it?" he asked. He also looked slightly intoxicated, from the way he swayed on his feet and the way his words were slightly slurred. His clothes looked like they hadn't been taken off in days.

That one there," our leader said, pointing at me. I instinctively covered my face with a bundle of my sari, fearing the gaze of the strange man on me. "Her name's Catherea. Come on little one, stand up, come meet mister Ethkar."

Unfortunately for me, I had faith in this man, who had for so long treated me like a father. So I stood. The gelert, Ethkar, came forward and ripped the cloth covering my face from my little fists, and grabbed my chin, turning my face this way and that in the torch light. He made a noise of approval in his throat and turned towards our leader. "Alright," he said, "She's pretty, and she looks healthy. I'll take her and we can call your debt paid. Is that a deal?"

Deal." And with a shake of hands, the bargain was struck and my life with my family was over. Ethkar grabbed my wrist and started dragging me away through the door, my young cousins screaming and grabbing at my clothing. Our leader, much too intoxicated to comprehend what was happening, sat down and closed his eyes to sleep. I had been used to pay off his debt. Whether it was a debt to pay for all his alcohol, or whether he had gambled and lost, I would never know, but I was being dragged away from my family. I screamed for my mother or my grandmother, but they were in the market with most of the other women. I was alone with a strange man.

The night was suffocating dark, the kind of darkness that fuels your panic and makes you believe you are being sucked into oblivion. Thankfully, the street he walked me down had torches along the yellow stonewalls, and so our shadows danced on the cobblestone street with our every step. I was still screaming, and hitting his hand, but he didn't notice. He was already locked in some thought that blocked out all else, as he walked down the street. This was hopeless, I remember thinking, I am going to be taken to this man's house and made his slave forever and never see my mother again.

The man talked to himself every once in a while, mumbling incoherent words. He was probably very intoxicated, and his stupor was letting his inner demons come out to play with his mind. Mumbling to himself, he turned a corner, into another street. In a last desperate burst of panic, I screamed at the top of my lungs, yelling out for help, that I had been kidnapped.

As if beckoned from the shadows of the alleys, the darkness collected into a tall form with broad shoulders. The pitch-black figure slid across the cobblestones with his dark cape trailing behind him, as if he were a dark spirit ? revenge and death in solid form. In a swift movement a gloved hand pulled free a long sword, filling the air with a clear ringing sound that carried through the night.

The imposing figure came to stand before Ethkar, the sword tip resting on the road. A torch cast a red-orange glow upon the cloth covering his face, making tiny flames dance on the dark eyes that showed though a slit in the cloth. Ethkar stopped abruptly, startled by the figure before him, reaching into his own belt for a weapon. The other stood calmly on the street, sensing no threat from this drunkard. The slurred voice asked nervously, "What do you want?"

The other's came smooth, laden with authority, despite the slight muffle of the cloth, "I wish for you to release the child."

Ha! I think not. She's mine by right now, given to me in order to settle a debt. She rightfully belongs to me now? so get out of my way."

The other lifted his sword and held the blade against Savin's chest, halting his movements forward. In that brief movement the blade reflected the torchlight, making the steel appear as though it were made of molten fire. "This child's life belongs to no one man, and therefore cannot be traded or sold by another. As far as I am concerned this is a kidnapping against her will. I suggest" ?he leaned in closer to the other's face- "that you release this girl before I'm forced to deal with this problem myself."

Ethkar's face turned climson with rage, and his cheeks puffed out as he started to blurt out insults and threats, all the while waving his now free knife in the air. The dark figure stood his ground, looking not the least bit taken aback by the foul words being shot his way. With a quick swing of his sword he bashed the flat of the blade against the gelert's head, knocking him to the ground unconscious. I scrambled back from the fallen body, my heart pounding in my chest from fright. I was disoriented and afraid, afraid of this cloaked man whose intentions I did not know. The figure slid his sword back into its scabbard and knelt beside Ethkar to check his pulse. He glanced over at me, "Don't worry child, he's still alive. He's just unconscious for now, and with the alcohol he might stay here sleeping until morning," he straightened to his feet, "No use wasting my time on a drunkard."

I stood there, twisting a chunk of my sari in my little fists, shaking from fright. The man looked at me for a moment before reaching beneath the hood over his head and untying the cloth that covered his face. Pushing back the hood, the torchlight revealed the handsome face of an older Kyrii, the hair around his temples graying. His dark eyes were warm, and his features revealed a kind, if strong, man in character. He came over to where she stood and knelt down in front of her, and gently wiped away a tear with his thumb. "There, there child, the bad guy's down for now, and you're safe. What's your name?"

Catherea," I responded after sucking back a sob.

Catherea, where's your mommy?" he asked gently.

On the outside of the city. But I don't know where exactly. But? I don't know if I want to go back. They don't want me there any more," I said, breaking down into uncontrolled crying and shaking. He pulled me against his chest, laying my head on his shoulder. He effortlessly lifted me off the ground and carried me gently though the city. I remember being there, my arms around this kind man's neck, my cheek buried in the black cloth of his shoulder and the dark curls of his shoulder-length hair. I idly watched our shadow follow us down the night streets, until I drifted into an exhausted sleep.

I can't fully tell you why I chose not to go home. The reason is unclear to me as well, to tell you the truth. Obviously, the relationship I had had with our leader was shattered, and the tension that would have existed would have made it impossible for me to continue life as if nothing had happened. I understand my mother was heart-broken, and she might have decided to leave the family in order to go searching for me ? that I will never know for sure. I went back a few times to check on my family from a distance, and I did not see her. I of course wished nothing more than to see her again, to let her know that I was fine, that her baby was growing up better than ever.

I would be able, however, to tell you why exactly I stayed. The following morning I awoke in a large bed with dark green sheets and more pillows than I had even slept on at one time. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I saw the man who had saved me, sitting on a cushioned chair in the far corner of the room, his ankle resting on his other knee and a book spread in his hands. His auburn eyes scanned the tiny black letters in a precise manner, and every so often his fingers would turn the next page and continue reading. I didn't know how to read.

Back home none of us had even been to school, especially not the women in the family, as they were always occupied with doing household chores and raising us children. Some of the older men knew numbers, which allowed them to sell and buy goods, but none knew how to read. I sat up in the bed and crawled over to the edge of the bed closest to him, hanging my little legs over the side. "What are you doing?"

He lifted his gaze from his book and flashed me a grin, "Good morning little one. I'm reading a book about ancient civilizations," he looked at me for a while and asked, "Do you know how to read?"

No."

Would you like to learn, Catherea?"

I nodded, "Yes I would. And could I learn about an-ancient civilatations?"

His grin broadened, as he laughed, "Of course I could teach you about ancient civilizations, and about all the cities in the world. I will teach you the languages of those cities, and I will teach you numbers, and history. Would you like that?"

I smiled at that, fascinated about all that this man knew, "Yes I would! You wouldn't mind?"

Not at all little one," he said, and held out his arms. I ran into them and he lifted me up onto his lap, "Not at all. You are welcome to live here as long as you wish, here at the estate. I can teach you to grow up to be a proper young lady, educated in whatever you want, so that you may grow up to do whatever you wish. I have no children of my own, and I would very much like to have some company in this big house. At least for as long as you wish to stay here."

His name was Sayid, a wealthy nobleman of the Lost Desert. He had once been married, but the poor woman had died due to a long sickness. I was the one thing that filled that gap of sadness with some joy, as I became to him as a daughter. And he became to me my father. The large, but gentle man kept his word, and taught me everything he knew. He taught me more than academics however, he taught me how to behave like the proper young woman he knew I could be. As far as we were concerned, I was his family, and he always introduced me to friends and other important people as his daughter.

But Sayid was more than just a wealthy older man ? no, there was more to him than that. The man kept secrets. At night he would slip into his pitch-black clothing and disappear into the night as I leaned my elbows on the marble windowsill and watched him ride off atop his dark steed. There came a time, when I was older, when he explained to me what it was he did at night. He handed me a black shirt and pants, told me to tie my hair back and to cover my face with a black cloth and let me ride behind him to a building far away from our home. Other men dressed in equally dark attire met us at the door, and ushered us in quickly. They studied the young girl standing beside Sayid until he introduced me as his daughter, Catherea. Then suddenly there were smiles, and hands gently patting my head or my shoulders.

This was a secret band of thieves that met in a secret building on the outskirts of the city, a collection of the brightest, most intelligent, most skilled thieves in the entire city. Some of them I recognized, as other important men I had met before at royal gatherings. Sayid was their leader, and I then realized then that it was his air of authority bought from this that made other men fear him, and respect him, despite his kindness. When he was Sayid the thief king, he was a different man. He was a force to be respected, an imposing man standing a good head taller than the others. Where at first I was surprised, almost frightened, I realized that these men were not evil. They worked together as a secret group moving across the city like a dark shadow, striking down abusive men in authority, taking from them what belonged to the people, and seeing to it that important men stayed honest? although sometimes this required more persuasion through fear than simply by words.

They were widely known across the Lost Desert, like the shadow that maintained peace and distributed wealth across the city. Although their true identities were never known, every man of importance knew they existed, and they feared these black spirits slipping through their lives with the grace and skill of a true master. Like a dark wind swirling across the night unchecked.

And of course, as the good daughter I was, I learned his skills. I learned to wield a knife by the age of twelve, and by fifteen I knew how to use a sword. When I was not in my elegant saris, my hair decorated like the young lady of my rank, meeting other important people, I was in my black clothing alongside Sayid on my own gray horse, slipping into rooms like a nightmare.

I stayed until I was twenty-one. I came to love that man like nothing else in the world, as I owed him so much. I remember he stood at the dock, his hair now a completely dark gray shade, with his arms crossed over his chest as my ship sailed away slowly. I leaned on the edge and waved with one arm, tears streaming down my face. I waved goodbye until I could no longer see him waving back though the wall of blurry tears. I had made it my goal to leave the Lost Desert for a time and travel the world on my own, to see all the places Sayid had taught me about with my own eyes.

The waves lapped at the wooden sides of the ship as she slid across the sea like a knife through butter. The white sails above me gleamed in the bright sunshine as the vessel neared her final destination ? Neopian Central. I came to the city dressed in a red desert top and a long red and golden skirt, and with absolutely no plan. I hoped to find some work, and try to live on my own for a time, to experience independence. I could not find a job that caught my interest, however, so I worked as a dancer at a Lost Desert themed place for a while. Of course, the temptation to use my 'skills' to earn more than minimum wage was too much to resist, despite the fact that I had always been taught never to steal for my own benefit. It was small change really, pickpoketing down the crowded streets to make more money. I became somewhat of a famous figure, a wanted thief whose identity was unknown. Although somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I could never continue living like this, at the time it was fun. I was young, and having just received my freedom, I intended to enjoy it as long as I could.

I came upon an interesting creature one day as I made my rounds down the busiest street in the city. He seemed some kind of mix, for it looked like a peophin, but he had large thick scales common to dragons. Not to mention the large dragon wings, and the spikes along his jawbone and spine. He turned his head and I saw the whiskers common to draiks there upon his muzzle. He flashed me a grin, and I was intrigued. He invited me to eat something, and there at a small coffee table we began talking. He introduced himself as Ellie, a peodraik, one of the very few of his kind. I told him what I was doing in the city (with the exception of my more illegal activities), and I mentioned that it was much harder than I would have thought to rent an apartment. He very generously invited me to stay with him at his house.

Won't you mind? I don't want to put anyone out," I said, interested in his offer.

No, of course not. I live in a rather large house, over on Mystery Island. I have another seven siblings living at the house currently, but there's room for a few more."

Immediately I agreed, and took up his offer. Within a few months I was part of the very large household, living with a couple other unis and kyriis. It was astounding just how quickly I fell in love with the entire family. They were delightful, every single one of the family members. The owner of the house, Olimpia, had one very good friend who she invited over with her pets all the time. Both families would get together and spend days together, drinking together and pretending to be pirates. Well, the latter applied mainly to Ellie and his best friend, Ocean, another peophin, who would kidnap famous pirates and convince them that they too were pirates.

I would always stay on the sidelines of the get togethers, as I felt I did not particularly belong in the year-old tradition between families. That is, until one day I met a member of the other family who I rather liked. His name was Mankanee Cypher, a young Kyrii about my age. He was an aspiring captain, with dreams of one day leading his own fleet. I found him rather charming, and rather handsome at that.