(Photo by Amine M’siouri)

The sun was blinding. The large man who stood atop the sand dune, scanning the surrounding area for signs of movement, was used to a blinding sun. The heat, however, was a different matter. His blinding sun brought only biting cold. The one thing that was similar, besides the intensity o it all, was the death it proclaimed on all but the most hardy and well prepared. Well, he’d been forced to leave his beasts of burden behind when they reached this place. They would have died within the hour had he tried to press them onward. Traveling on foot was slow but he took long strides and never tired. He needed neither food nor drink save only for once a year when he would gorge himself on an impossible mound of food and countless gallons to drink. It would sustain him, even in this harsh environment.

Sun burn was just as easy to get in the cold as it was in the hot sun but the man kept his sleeves rolled up past the elbow regardless, exposing his milk white skin. His arms were thick but not incredibly defined with muscle. His entire body was that way. It had to be.

In the far distance, just on the edge of sight, something caught his eye. It was difficult to make out, especially with the heat haze that obscured such distant things, but he was still confident that he’d spotted what it was that he’d come in search of.

Sand puffed and blew away in the dry breeze as he began his trek across the desert once more. Each step looked like it could swallow miles, and indeed he barely needed to walk for a few minutes before he’d reached the point It had been a long time since he’d needed to rely on walking to travel but he was no less adept at covering impossible distances. In those early days some had thought it was his boots that allowed him to do such things. Considering the look and feel of them he had to admit that they did bear a certain peculiarity, but no. They were not anything special beyond the fact that they never slipped, never wore out, and were infinitely comfortable.

The dunes where the man stopped were not so tall as many of the other ones but that did not mean they were small. Standing down in the valley between a pair of them he could feel the stark contrast in the temperature. Down in the shadowed places it could have been described as chilly, although the man still found it much hotter than what he was accustomed to.

Moving slowly and deliberately, he began to scoop handfuls of sand away from the base of the dune. At first, sand from higher up poured down and replaced the sand he’d removed but as he continued to work he began to make progress, cutting into the dune and forming a new channel through the sand. There was no haste to his work. This was a man who had all the time in the world.

After hours of continuous labor, he found what he’d been looking for. A door. As the last skiffs of sand fell away they revealed a stone arch with a desiccated wooden door, long since deprived of any moisture by the hot, dry sand that enveloped it. There was no knob or knocker on this door but that was not a surprise. He had seen countless other doors just like this one. It was small by most standards, with the top of the door barely reaching the middle of his chest.

He raised his left hand, balled up into a fist, and gave the door three firm raps with his knuckles. More sand fell around him from the vibration but not so much to threaten covering him or the door. He waited, shoving the new sand away and brushing himself off. A moment passed. And then another. It was possible he’d found an old one that was no longer in use, but he was nearly certain of what he had seen and so he waited.

Minutes flowed by but he was unbothered by such things. He did not bother to knock again. If they were in there, they would know it was him and this had stopped being about hiding and more about trying to wait the other one out. Sometimes they remembered and opened the door sooner but other times they were hopeful and would wait to see if he would leave. A wide grin spread crossed his face while he waited.

Of course, he had been wrong in the past. Sometimes he stood at a false or abandoned door for days on end. Those were moments of triumph for the ones he sought, but they were few and far between. It was very difficult to fool the man and most of the time he recognized the signs. Even still, he admired their craftsmanship even when they built false doors or other things to fool him and lead him astray. Their skills in such areas were, of course, legendary.

Night came for the second time following his discovery of the door. He did not sit or rest at all during that time. Instead, he remained where he was standing, blocking the doorway with his broad body, his hands resting at times on his hips or else folded cross-ways on his chest. Sometimes a chuckle would escape his lips but besides that he was silent. If the wind above the dunes blew too much sand down into his alcove he would scoop it back out but so far he hadn’t needed to do that.

As the fourth night ended and the sunlight began to glint off of the rim of the dunes above, the door finally opened by a sliver. There was no sound to announce the movement but the man had been watching intently and spotted the minuscule shift in the door. Nothing but blackness was visible through the slit but the man pointed and let out a laugh of triumph all the same.

“HA!” he bellowed so loudly that sand began to slide down the dunes around him. “I found you!”

A faint sigh came from behind the door and reluctantly it swung open the rest of the way. Standing in the dark were three individuals. At first glance they would have looked like children but after only a moment of observation it would become clear to anyone that they were something else.

Their faces were too old to be children although there were no wrinkles or gray hair to be seen. Their eyes were not round but angular, more like a cats, but also had two pupils per eye. Their teeth were smooth and even but there again they had more pointed teeth than a human would have had. The most obvious thing, however, were their ears. They sat farther up on their heads and here long and pointed. Thin hair, or more accurately fur, gave their ears a slight dusty look.

The one nearest the door stepped forward and addressed the man.

“You’ve found us more quickly than we expected,” he said, his voice bearing both a high and low tone making it sound more like two people were speaking in unison. “We barely had time to finish the beds.”

The man leaned down to peer inside as the shelter. Marble floors and sandstone walls greeted his eyes, along with thick carpeted rugs and fine, metal ornamentation on several of the pieces of art and furniture.

“I am sorry you did not get to finish,” he told them and there was honesty in his voice. “I know you rarely get to make things and then keep them for yourself for very long. I admire your dedication, all the same.”

The shorter people looked pleased to be so praised.

“Would you like to come in and share a meal?” another of the shorter people asked.

“I would be delighted,” the man said and the others stepped out of the way so he could enter.

It was strange to watch, as the man walked into the home, if that was what this building should be called. He did not shrink and neither did the building grow but he nonetheless fit inside quite comfortably without needing to stoop.

The people busied themselves with setting the table and preparing the meal. The man did not need to eat, and the others knew it as well but such an opportunity was not one to be missed and so they all took part with eagerness. The man helped in the preparations just as much as the others and within a few hours a feast was prepared. For the next long while they ate and drank and told one another of what life had been for each of them since their last meeting.

When at last the meal was done and everything had been cleaned and put away, the large man strode back out into the dunes. It was night and he stretched although there was no hint of weariness in his eyes.

“Well played, my friends,” he said to them as they gathered around him outside, shutting the door behind themselves. “And now it is my turn to go hide and for you to seek me.”

The others nodded eagerly.

“We will give you until the count of ten,” they replied in unison.

As one, they turned and faced the dune whereupon they began to count.

“One…two…three…”

But the man was already gone from them, his long strides carrying him away across the sand and ocean to the far reaches of the world where he would build his own little home. There he would sit and wait to be found. Then would the time for their game to end and their work to begin. All for one night of blistering effort. Then they would begin their game anew.