The nomad's shoulder was strong and tanned. His face was drawn from hard work, his chest tanned like the rest of his body. He was only rowing a white shirt and white harem pants. A matching white belt. He rode bareback on his white desert horse. The desert was tough, the only luggage he had was a small water bottle, all the gold his village had and a little provisions. He knew that he would arrive in town today, otherwise he would be lost. His whole village was built on his shoulders. It was clear to him that he couldn't go back. The only thing left to him was to go to town. Where was she He did not know. Where the city should normally be ... sand! How could that be done? Was it destroyed? That was absurd. He turned around. Something seemed to be screaming behind him. A human. He turned around. Since normads had a great sense of honor, he had to help. He urged his horse to ride to the place where the screams came from.He was there in a matter of minutes and he became scared. The first time he was scared. Normads were warriors, they were fearless. What he saw taught him to be afraid. Dead people lay in a well. But they weren't all dead. One man appeared to be alive, almost buried in the middle of the dead. Their eyes were full of fear, their mouths wide open, their faces smeared with blood, their bones broken. The normade got off his horse and ran towards the man. With all his might he pulled him from the pile of the dead. Had the city been here once? Were all the residents dead in the well except for this man? Had a powerful people been exterminated? A thousand questions in his head, a thousand questions he asked the man. He got answers. He never wished he'd asked. He felt sick. All the atrocities that were perpetrated against the people of Falk`s Wood stood out in the eyes of the man. It was the first time a normad started crying.He wept in honor of the dead. He's crying because he couldn't do anything. He was crying because he had to cry. He began to understand. All the good in the world was just a sham. None of this did they begin to rearm their city. They didn't want to be as good as it seemed. The man told everything. He didn't leave anything out. Then he died from his injuries. The normad buried him honorably and the dead from the wells that poisoned the water were also honorably buried. His eyes were still red from crying when he made up his mind. He would make her pay. Anger rose in him. Anger that wanted out. He mounted his horse and rode off. His anger and determination made his horse move faster. A journey of 4 days would have been necessary to reach the closest city, but with the strength of the people who had died for no reason they arrived in a few hours. Once there, she told the people he was cruel and while he saw her eyes widen in horror and disgust, they began to trust him.They too were poor, there was very little fertile land in the desert, but they gathered everything together and with his leadership they expanded their city, they didn't want to end up like the residents of Falk`s wood. They gave everything they had, but it was worth it. Within a few weeks, their city became a fortress. Now they started to set up one. They would ostracize their neighbors. They would conquer evil or they would die, only one thing they would never do: give up! With this certainty, the nomad went to sleep in order not to dream a nightmare after weeks. He dreamed of a world full of peace ...