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The sun rose over the desert, as it always did, as it continues to do, the sky a brilliant paint smear of orange and pink and purple. The sand gleamed copper as the sun made it's ascent towards the heavens. It was, as the vulgar clocks would say, barely six a.m. and few people would be awake at this hour, not out here anyway.

The sun dared to illuminate the hidden oasis, carved out by means of which no one dared question, whether it was magic or divine force or sheer will power or simply a natural phenomenon. Regardless, the sun did reveal the splendor of the oasis, of it's simple buildings, glorious plant life and sparkling clean waters. It's sole inhabitant, there in self-imposed exile, sat quietly among the lush grass in full meditation. She was young, in her mid-twenties if your eyes served you right, and dressed in simple cotton and linens of various neutral tones. Her long hair was layered chunky and messily, as if she'd cut it herself without aid of mirror or reflection and it blew loosely around her face and shoulders, bleached white by the sun and reflecting only vague hints of the natural orange that at one point had matched the sunrise.

The heat of the sun slowly warmed her body, slowly drove away the chill of the night in her bones and her flesh and slowly she opened her dazzling blue eyes to greet the day.

Stretching, she stood up and rolled her shoulders, giving silent thanks to the glowing ball of fire that warmed her and welcomed another day. She hoped it would be just as dull and listless as the past weeks, and months had been. Exile was there for a reason, it served a purpose and she hoped to fulfill hers in peace, self-imposed as it was.

With an inward sigh, she stretched out her legs, waking the joints that had stiffened up since the beginning of her meditations earlier that morning, long before the sun has risen. She turned to the gleaming, crystal pool of water and splashed her face before turning back to her humble dwellings.

It was a quiet life here in her oasis, and she'd finally gotten used to the lonesomeness it sometimes brought. She was beginning to think that exile wasn't all that bad...