"No, I know, you don't have to remind me fifteen times that the desert and mountains are dangerous mother," came the voice of a twenty-three year old man as he stepped out of his parents two story bakery-home mix. Outside the house stood a caravan, one that he would be joining in order to make sure that their foods got to the right places. Of course his mother--this being his first time out of the City--was worried. Most people of the City of Deser had never left the peaceful place. They lived, breathed, survived in the city walls. It stood just on the side of a desert that spanned from the city walls to the mountains. On the other side of the mountain was the foresty farms that supplied the city with most of it's food. Once a month caravans would go out and collect the food and deliver what aid that the City could provide to it's people out there. Being one of ten bakery families in the city, Kalif's father had offered to send prized dough with the caravan that his son would create into their best loaves once they reached the farms. Kalif--tall, muscular but delicate face Kalif--had been more than happy to get out of Deser. He had always wanted to try new things. He didn't like baking though he had a skill at making anything he cook turn out good. His shoulder length black hair that day had been pulled back into a braid to that it would stay out of his way as they traveled. It was his eyes that most people couldn't trust. A dark red color that meshed with the black of his pupils, people tended to believe he was magic touched. While that wasn't always a bad thing--for there were people that could control the different elements which came in handy--it was not a good thing either. But as far as Kalif could tell, the only gift he had was for cooking and being able to find trouble no matter what he did. It wasn't long before the caravan was out of hte City and on their way towards the mountains--a good two weeks travel from the city. In all the trip would take a good month to complete one way. And then another trip back. About halfway there--on the mountain if everything went the way they were supposed to--they would meet up with the last caravan and Kalif would be able to see Travelen his old school friend that had turned into a caravan guard.