"Behold my power," I yell, because I feel dramatic and a foe like the desert deserves a good villain or a hero. There are a lot of gray areas. It is hard to tell who is right and wrong under these circumstances.

  Nothing. I've never experienced anything so disappointing. I try again to wield my power — more nothing. Like a limp body, my power refuses to respond. Maybe I need time?

  As I wait it out, I check my core more thoroughly. The problem could be within. Numerous channels, like my veins, run throughout my body, eventually returning to my core. My core itself is multilayered and empty. That can't be right, can it? The discovery opens the door to more questions. I shut the door down, hoping to avoid another flood of unknowns. Questions can come later.

  Self-indulgence, possibly more conjecture, led me to believe that I’m powerful... or at least I should be powerful. That is the prevalent feeling I get when I look within. Admittedly I might have jumped on my desire to be special too soon. My core looks complex, like it could hold immense power. Like years…lifetimes have been spent cultivating it.

  Proof of diligent training is evident in the foundation of my core layers. Each layer is laced with mind, body, and spirit essences. Additionally, each of these essences seemingly reached a high rank. This understanding leads me to believe I should feel strong. Yet, I do not. Quite the opposite.

  Baffled by this mystery, I continue to inspect my core. My segmented and layered core is beside my heart, a fraction of its size. The innermost layer, the ninth layer, is empty, as far as I can tell. There is no hint of mana, energy, or substance within. The layer is just there. No matter how hard I focus on it, I find nothing. I repeat this diligent study for each subsequent layer.

  Nothing. Eight times I repeat the process. To my shock, nothingness isn't precisely the case for my innermost layer — the original empty core. This core discovery provokes excitement and hope.

  The Center of my core, the innermost layer, is not nothing. Though it looks empty, like the others, it is filled with the faintest hint of energy. Almost as if absence had an aura to it. Indeed, it seems like I’m looking at nothing and seeing something there. The nothingness is quite different from the rest of my empty cores.

  Intrusively, hope forces muscle memory to kick in. I try a basic cycling technique reaching for the nothingness inside me. However, the mana in my first core, the odd-looking one, isn't responding. No matter how I try to cycle, the absent energy avoids my grasp. Not letting me abandon the fight, hope keeps me reaching within.

  I try again and again and again. Time eludes me as I keep reaching for energy. My power…my strength. If I can have this, my situation won't be so dire. I will have something.

  Eventually, hope fades into stubbornness. From there, it descends into desperation. I’m confident nothing will happen, but as one last-ditch effort, I also try to cycle my empty cores. Still nothing.

  "Well, I'll be damned." I audibly curse the all-encompassing nothingness and the sands before me, letting my curse carry away my frustrations.

  Somehow, I managed to cultivate nine cores without harnessing mana. Or the mana was drained from within me…

  Mana vampires? Is that a thing? Did some mana-sucking leach rob me of my mana and leave me to die?

  Energy-sucking bats! I was on my way to a great party when I was swarmed and swiped up by bats, sucked dry of energy, and left in a desert to dry out and rot because bats are poetic in nature. No, that's very unlikely. I doubt past me partied or was even invited to party.

  Whatever happened to my past self, I’m baffled.

  My empty cores are most likely a factor in why I feel so weak, but it feels more than that. The foundations of my core feel off. It was as if my entire being was ripped apart, then piece-by-piece put back together. What is going on?

  "Cursed stupid vampire bats. Who needs them and their lame parties anyway." I mutter to myself, shaking my fist defiantly.

  It could be that I need time to recover, or maybe I'm not as powerful as I think I am... or was. I could be misjudging my assessment completely. Not having most of my memories intact further cements that thought.

  Regardless, I don't feel like waiting around long enough to find out if my strength will return before I dry out and die. On top of that, dwelling on my current weakness is bringing up misplaced anger…even worse; despair is still looming.

  If it is up to me, which there is a chance it is, I prefer not to let despair sink in. Those crippling hands would be worse company than my present self.

  Content with my brief self-assessment, I look around me. Sand. In every direction I look, there is sand. "Wait a moment, do bats live in the desert? Maybe the smaller variety. Sure. But what about the giant human-carrying type? I don't know if this habitat is sustainable for that kind of animal."

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  I continue to observe the desert, becoming more skeptical of my past. Serpentining hills of golden sand stretch out as far as I can see in almost every direction. Towards the west, there looks to be a mountain range within a day-and-a-half walk. From here, only the peaks of the mountains can be seen sticking out softly on the horizon. Despite the distance, I feel a draw to the rugged landscape.

  Not knowing what else to do, I follow my gut and head west. My closest escape from the desert, and perhaps a cult of vampires, is the mountains. "When in doubt, head to the mountains." That's probably what they would say in this situation. There is safety in the mountains. They being everyone other than the vampires. I'm not an expert on the subject, but I’m certain vampires don't do mountains.

  Maybe it is the hiking, altitude, threat of exposure, or a combination of the three; whatever it is, vamps just don't dig it. People on the other hand, they love the mountains. They are called to them like it’s some adventure full of treasures. So, to the people and treasures, I go. Maybe that’s what I need to do in order to live.

  It is a pleasant day. Not an intense temperature, but the sun can afford to turn it down a notch. It is definitely hot enough that it could cause some problems: sun poisoning, dehydration, and heatstroke, to name a few. If not for my darker skin tone, I would be more worried about my total sun exposure. As it is, I'm willing to take my chances trekking practically naked.

  One thing about those vamps: they sure are a modest bunch. To think they would do me the kindness of leaving me my briefs. Maybe it is against their code to leave their prey completely nude. Am I still prey if I've already been preyed upon?

  Maybe it's that they won't leave the dead undressed. That's it. That's the code. A real honorable lot, those vamps. Much more decent than bats. Dress the dead and avoid mountains. Now those are some cult codes I can get behind.

  Walking isn't bad, certainly not great, just not bad. I prefer this leisurely stroll to the nightmarish paralysis I experienced earlier. Though it takes a mile or three, the stiffness in my body is no longer present.

  Surprisingly, even in my weakened state, the miles pass quickly and I feel like I'm making good time. Optimistically cutting my destination estimates to a day flat. Maybe even less than that if I had shoes.

  Where in the abyss are my shoes? Why couldn't shoes be a part of the vampires' honor code? Yeah, this isn't adding up. It couldn't have been vamps. I would be much more dressed if it was them.

  I keep walking through the sand dunes barefoot, alone with my foul mood.

  Deserts are definitely a bottom-tier environment. Sand is excellent when it is next to water; when it isn't, it is next to worst. Each step is a struggle and each climbed dune is more or less similar. Every cactus looks unpleasant. Trees look more like weeds and are as uninviting as the cactus. Thick, prickly, and stubby, offering no shade to anything but themselves.

  Why do deserts have to be barren and hostile anyways? This can quickly become a paradise with just a body of water and some actual trees. Paradise, now that is a top-tier environment. It would have been sweet if I could have been left stranded in one of those nice paradises.

  Countless dunes and cacti later, I'm still walking. My mouth is a bit parched and I feel nasty hunger pangs. The mountains are getting closer and farther away at the same time. My day-and-a-half estimate is increased to at least two days of walking. So, I keep walking, hardly noticing the scenery I pass.

  "You know, in a way, it is a little bit freeing, having no memories and being abandoned," I let myself say out loud.

  "Sure, I have many questions, but I can ignore those for the time being. Right now, all I must do is walk. And walking isn't so bad. Shoot, come to think of it, I don't even have to walk. I can sit here all day if I want to. In fact, now that I’m thinking of it, I'm tired of walking in this blasted, uncomfortably warm sand. I'm gonna just wait for the night to walk."

  "I'm sure past me loved long walks at night. Hell, maybe I will be able to recover more strength and be able to walk faster. Might even be able to sprinkle in a jog during this lovely night walk. 'Nothing beats moonlight miles' is what I imagine I used to always say. "

  Satisfied with my rationale, I find a spot in the desert that is a little less sunny and sit with a dune acting as a prop for my back.

  My eyes snap back open as the ground around me starts shifting. Grains of sand are shaking and falling as the ground around me rises. The shift at the base of the dune creates a small sand slide that threatens to impede my escape.

  Before I can escape my situation, I’m surrounded by five scorpions roughly my size. Pincers are snapping. Tails are raised for striking, and all their hissing is out of sync. They have thick chitinous backs that look like layered armor with a color that closely resembles the sand.

  Eerily, I get a good look into their mouths as they open and menacingly shut them, which is undoubtedly an intimidation tactic. In a way, it works, as gnarly images of scorpion mouths send shivers throughout my body. Picturing them nibbling on my flesh almost spurs me to turn and run.

  "Hello, friends!" I say, trying to shake off the uncomfortable images. "Sorry to bother you all this fine day. I'm a little lost. I don't suppose you know any local vampire cults or sizable bats you could direct me to?"

  More aggressive hissing and snapping is their response.

  "That's fine. I figured as such. Well, no worries, I'll be on my way now." I move to get out of their semicircle. The scorpions countermove to keep me trapped.

  They step towards me closer and closer, snapping their claws and hissing louder now.

  Behind me is the steep dune I recently descended. Though my cowardly self thinks I should run away in that direction, I’ve no illusions that I can climb the dune faster than these inhabitants. I’m forced to either jump over the scorpions or fight.

  By my estimates, I would probably need to jump as high as ten feet to clear the stingers and as far as fifteen feet distance-wise. Then I'd need to quickly sprint away, leaving myself no margin for error. One thing is certain, dying would be bad. That would be counterproductive to the purpose of life.

  Fighting to live it is.