I hate sand. It's course, rough, and irritating, and it gets everywhere.

Omar was knocked to the ground once more as yet another mighty gust of wind rushed past him. Sand flew into his eyes. He tried his best not to breathe it in, even through the cloth that he had wrapped around his nose and mouth. Omar tried to stand steady on the ground, but it was hopeless. The sand shifted and moved underneath his feet, and the wind forever threatened to topple him over. He also couldn't tell when the end of the dune was approaching, and needed to be very careful. Normally, his "sixth sense" would tell him where things were, but in this case the wind made it so that he couldn't tell where anything was at all.

Omar tried to stop the wind from barraging him, but it would simply swerve around him then come back from another direction. Omar wasn't powerful enough to stop it. Also, anytime he tried, his feet would slip on the sand as a result of having to stand against the force of the wind to stop it from blowing.

Omar dug his hands into the sand and tried to move forward on his hands and knees. He knew that he would need to make some sort of pit in the sand or find one. All he knew was that he was on the top of a dune and needed to be at the bottom. He scabbled forward, his hands and feet sliding out from underneath him every other step. Suddenly, Omar placed his hand forward, but it didn't land on anything.

His weight off-balance, Omar toppled over the edge of the dune, his feet slipping out and his other hand sliding off the dune as well. He felt for a moment as if he was flying, but then he hit the sand, and he rolled and rolled and rolled down the dune. The cloth that covered his nose and mouth ripped off and he continued to tumble, the sand getting into his nose and mouth whenever he breathed. He coughed, but that only made it worse. But now his shoulder was hurting. He kept rolling on his side. Suddenly, he stopped.

Omar pushed himself up but then fell back down. He didn't have enough strength to rise again, especially with the force of the wind still threatening to push him down. All hope seemed lost.

I'm going to die.

He wondered why he felt such a stolid acceptance of his own death.

Maybe it's because I'm dehydrated.

But that doesn't matter. I'm going to die.

Omar lay down on the sand.

I might just sleep here.

But then he changed his mind.

Too much sand. This isn't comfortable at all.

Omar came back to his senses. He started to dig, trying to make a pit in the sand before his arms gave out. Progress was painstakingly slow. Omar realized that he was never going to finish making a deep enough pit in time before he collapsed in the power of the sand, heat, and wind.

He made a shallow pit instead. It's better than nothing. Omar lay down flat in the shallow gorge, hoping that it would be deep enough to obscure him from the sand and wind. Omar then put an arm in front of his nose and mouth, to reduce the amount of sand which he breathed in. It helped a little. But not much.

Omar's eyes burned. He doubted that he would ever get out of the predicament. But there was nothing he could do except lay there in the shallow gorge in the sand and wait. To die or not to die.

Somehow, the sand storm ended. It had seemed like forever to Omar, though it had only been a few minutes. As the storm cleared, Omar looked around in slight surprise. He had been so sure he was going to die.

Omar suddenly realized something.

All I saw in the vision were the Denecay Dunes, not any specific place inside them. There's no way I can know where I'm going. The Denecay Dunes are supposed to be a wasteland anyway. There shouldn't be anything here. Even if there was, the probability of finding it would be infinitesimal.

Omar tried to sigh, but it was a futile attempt. He could barely breathe, let alone sigh. He coughed, but that only made it worse.

I need to find water. I've already used up all the water I brought with me.

Omar put his feet under him and tried to stand, but he fell over once more, his legs weak. So Omar proceeded to crawl forward through the sand until he reached the top of a dune. Then he strained his ears to see if he could hear the sound of water, but it was hopeless. There was no water anywhere nearby. There was no sound of water, at least. As a matter of fact, there was no sound at all. The Denecay dunes were dead silent. The only sound that Omar could hear was the shuffling of his own hands and feet as they struggled to find a good grip in the sand, and the hoarse wheezing of his breath as he tried to breathe. But he needed to continue forward if he had any chance of getting somewhere or finding water. So he tried to stand once more. Again, he fell. Suddenly, he realized that he was subconsciously trying to push forward against the force of the wind, which wasn't there any longer.

Omar forced himself to stand straight, then walk normally. His feet slid a few times in the shifting sand, but it was progress. Soon, he could walk much better, and even run.

Omar ran across the sand dunes, trying to get to somewhere that might have water. Suddenly, it became harder to move. But he didn't notice.

Soon the ground evened again. Then Omar was in the air. After a second, Omar knew something was wrong. His feet hadn't touched the sand again. He felt himself falling. And falling. And falling.

AAAaAaaaAAAAaaHH!

His throat was too dry to voice his screams. But as he continued to fall, Omar became confused.

That's strange. I didn't remember being that high on top of anything. If I did climb a dune, it certainly wasn't a very high one. I wonder why I'm still falling.

Then he felt something. He felt something beneath him. His sixth sense was working. That meant that the ground below him wasn't sand. It didn't move. Just as he realized this, he shot a colossal blast of wind at his feet, and just in time.

Omar's blast of wind slowed him down by an immense amount. However, he still hit the ground with quite a bit of impact. As Omar's feet hit the ground, they gave out from under him. The ground was made of stone. Omar dropped to his knees and just barely avoided a painful face-plant. Then he stood.

Omar tried to use his sixth sense to sense something. But as far as he could tell, wherever he was, it was a maze. Then Omar strained his ears to see if he could hear something. And he did. Very faintly, he could hear the sound of dripping water. Omar's thoughts immediately shifted from thinking about where he was, and he rushed towards the sound. He immediately fell forward on his face. Oops. I should go slower until I get my bearings on where the ground is back.

Omar got up again, this time more patiently, and walked forward slowly.
Omar didn't really walk to the water source. Really, he stumbled towards it. Every other step he tripped stumbled, just barely managing to retain his footing. The dripping was getting louder.

Water. Water. Water.

But Omar maintained his slow speed. He knew that if he went any faster, he would be constantly falling over. It reminded him of the desert sandstorm, except this time there was nothing stopping him from moving forward but himself.

Suddenly, Omar bumped into what felt like a wall. It was made of stone. "What..." Omar thought. It was quite a short wall. It was barely taller than Omar's waist level. Omar tried to go around it. It appeared to be circular.

Omar heard the dripping of water again, this time coming from inside the perimeter of the circular wall.

What's round and contains water...

Omar mentally smacked his forehead with his hand. He didn't have enough energy to do it physically.

It's a well.

Omar leaned over the edge of the well, his hand groped around, to see if there was something that they could use to bring the water up. Omar felt a rope and his nose filled with the sweet scent of water.

Yes!

Omar pulled on the rope and heard the sloshing of water inside an object. He continued to pull the rope, faster and faster, and he heard the water coming closer and closer. When the bucket arrived, he grabbed it with one hand. Omar cupped his hand and dipped it in the water, taking a small sip. Surprisingly, the water was cold and sweet.

I wonder where it comes from.

The thought was quickly overwhelmed by Omar's need for water. He started to gulp down the water. But then he stopped.

I really shouldn't be drinking it that fast.

So he started to drink a little slower than he had before. When he finally put the bucket down, Omar's throat was no longer parched, and he had quenched his thirst.

Omar used some more of the water to wipe the sand from his face and eyes. Not that the sand was obscuring his vision. But it was quite irritating.

Omar then placed the bucket back where it had been before and sat down on the floor next to the well. Curling up beside it, Omar closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Omar woke with a start. He couldn't feel his fingers or toes. His entire body felt freezing cold. His teeth chattered as he started to stand. He put a hand against the well to steady himself but hurriedly pulled it back, the coldness of the stone having burned his hand.

Omar tried to make a warm wind around himself but all the air around him was cold and it only made him colder. Omar touched his hair and felt the layer of frost that coated it.

Omar finally stood, a shudder flying down his spine. Omar hurried through the strange underground place as fast as he could, running his hand against the ancient shelves, looking for something made of wood that he could use. He felt books on the shelves, and he grabbed one.

Omar rushed to a shelf and tried to pry it apart, but it didn't work. Nothing worked. His movements became more and more clumsy.

What can I do? There's nothing warm in here.

Omar suddenly had an idea. He blasted air at his feet, wincing as the freezing air propelled him upwards. He shot up into the air and landed on the sand once more.

Omar, exhausted, fell flat on the sand. But he knew he needed to get warm.

Omar blasted air at the sand next to him to make a hole. Then he crawled in the hole and covered himself with sand, only leaving his head above the surface, his hair wrapped around his head to make it a little warmer.

He felt warmer, now submerged in the sand. But he knew he would need to come up with a better strategy if he was going to live in this desert for any period of time.

Omar awoke once more, but this time he didn't feel numb. He felt itchy and uncomfortable. Omar wriggled out of the sand and dusted himself off.

"What time is it?" Omar wished he could see the sun, so he would at least know the time. Omar seemed to expect a reply to his query, but of course, he received no answer.

Omar started to walk in the direction where he remembered the underground building had been. He stopped after a few steps, sensing the gap in the ground in front of him, and the long, long drop that followed it.

Omar took a deep breath and jumped off the edge of the bank. He immediately started to blast air at the ground, slowing down his descent.

Omar landed on the ground and his knees buckled. But he remained standing. Omar let out the huge breath he hadn't known he had been holding. Slow-air descents weren't something that he had a lot of practice in, so it made him nervous whenever he did it, especially from a place as high as he had been. Omar stumbled forward, his foot catching on a vine. He tripped and threw his hands out in front of him to catch himself.

He felt something on the floor. Some kind of rune.

He crawled along it, trying to figure out what it was. Then he had it. A series of runes. I know these runes. They mean "Temple of all Knowledge.". Omar's jaw fell open.

"I'm in the temple of all knowledge." Omar shook his head. "But I can't be. It's a legend, said to be in the middle of he Denecay..." He trailed off. "This really is the temple of all-knowledge, and I found it by chance." A delighted, surprised grin spread across his face. "Wow." Then he began to laugh.
"I'VE FOUND THE TEMPLE OF ALL KNOWLEDGE!!!!!" Omar's grin grew wider. But then it fell. For he realized something.

"But... It's full of books. And I can't read... because I'm blind. I mean, I'm pretty sure people from two thousand years ago wouldn't have written the books in braille." Omar put his head in his hands.

"So that means... I've really found the temple of all knowledge... but I can't access any of it." His voice was downcast, his excitement faded away.

"So it really doesn't matter that I've found the temple of all knowledge." Tears formed in his eyes. Nobody will be able to find me, either. This will have been all for nothing. I'll die here. I'll never find out what knowledge this temple contains. Neither will anybody else. Unless...

"It's possible that I could find out, but that's only if somebody else got a vision of the Denecay Dunes, just like I did. They would have to ignore the warnings of the people in the area, not notice the gaping hole in the ground, not die when they fall, then talk to me or know how to read the rune." Omar laughed grimly. That's more coincidences than I even originally thought it was.

"It's unlikely that I will see anybody coming. It is also equally unlikely that I will find out the information in this temple. And also that I will be able to escape this desert." Omar suddenly realized the full impact of what he had said. I've doomed myself, haven't I?

"So, overall, I'm in a pretty bad situation." Omar sighed.

"Well, I'd better make the most of it!" Omar assumed a smile, trying to cheer himself up.

"How I'll do that, I don't know." Omar attempted to assume a grin, to trick himself into being happy.. "All I can do is hope that somebody else gets a vision of the Denecay Dunes, is crazy enough to come here, and happens to fall in the pit." Omar's smile faded slightly. "Yay!" He added sarcastically.

"Who am I speaking to, anyway?" After a few moments, he realized that he was never going to answer that question. So he simply shook his head and set himself to tracing the huge rune on the floor over and over again with his finger, until there was no more sand or dust remaining on it. At least it gave him something to do.