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The sun dipped over the horizon as a chill made its way across the shrubland plains and into your bones as you trot your horse down a sandy trail. You chose this particular way at random on a gut feeling it would lead to some place worthwhile. Long story short, it hadn't and now you are shivering. You resolved to stop and make a fire when you notice a tower of smoke a mile or so ahead. You spur your horse to a gallop. In a few minutes I arrived much colder than I had started. The culprit was a lonely kindling twig fire situated inside a circle of stones. I hopped off my horse and approached with care. There was not a soul to be seen but the twigs had not burned half way. In the sand beside the fire was the unmistakable shape of an arrow. It was stabbed straight into the ground where it pinned a fluttering paper.

As a curious man, not necessarily a smart one, I trudged over and pulled the arrow and released the sheet from its grip. It was a note and it read as such:

To whom it may concern, and I pray you are strong-willed, this here letter will change your life. I have travelled the pink dunes and have come up short. There is not one ounce of purity left to sip. I can feel my mind fade as I jot this down. I hope whoever finds this, my successor, has better luck at helping these poor forgotten souls than I have. If you've gotten this far it is already to late to turn back.

The wind suddenly picks up as the

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