Avdi found the giant while hunting for supper. The lumbering form stuck out against the flat white of the desert, especially with the long trail streaming behind it from the anchor it dragged.

“Hail to you, stranger,” Avdi called as he jogged towards the giant.

The towering figure paused and turned. Grey rags covered most of its hunched form, and its sun-browned face squinted from beneath its hood against the glare of the sand and sky.

“Hail in return,” the giant said. “What brings you here, child of the desert?”

Avdi held up his bow.

“I hunt for my family’s evening meal and spotted you from afar. The sands are a strange place for your kind. I thought you preferred the mountains and the waves.”

“I have lost my home and its name. This is my only memory of it.”

The giant lifted the anchor and let it fall back onto the sand.

“I am trying to find it again.”

Avdi touched his fingers to his forehead and then raised his hand to the sky.

“What was that?” the giant said.

“A prayer to the Four Winds for your quest.”

The giant’s eyes crinkled.

“My thanks.”

“What say you join my family for our meal? I must finish the hunt first, so you can come with me if you wish.”

“You are very kind. I will assist you.”

“Wonderful. I am Avdi, of the Desert Rose Tribe.”

“My name was lost with my home, so… you may call me Anchor, for that is all I have left.”

As the sun passed its noonday peak, Avdi brought down a desert wolf, and Anchor carried the corpse as the hunter led him to his home. By mid-afternoon, a sandstone hut poked out of the sands, a well beside it.

“You can leave the beast by the well. I will grab my tools and—”

“Dad’s home!”

The sheet covering the doorway blasted aside as two girls sprinted out before careening into Avdi. Laughing, he embraced them both.

“Here, girls. This is Anchor. He will be our guest for supper. Introduce yourselves.”

“Hello, Anchor, sir! You are very tall! My name is Nish, and I am Dad’s biggest child.”

Nish, who looked no more than fourteen, beat her fist against her chest. At an exasperated look from Avdi, she performed a half-hearted bow.

“That is the salute of the Windchaser Guard,” Avdi said to the giant.

Nish planted her hands on her hips and nodded.

“I’m going to be a Windchaser one day,” she said.

Despite his sigh, Avdi smiled.

“Your turn,” he said to the other daughter.

The younger girl, probably nine, stared slack-jawed at Anchor’s impressive height.

“Paar,” Avdi said.

“Right! I’m Paar.”

“She’s the youngest,” Nish said.

“And the bravest.”

“No, you’re not. I am. That’s why I will be a Windchaser.”

“Dad said I’m the bravest.”

“All right, all right,” Avdi said. “Paar, get me my tools. Nish, go help your mother.”

“But Raatar isn’t home yet,” Nish said.

“I’m sure your mother has plenty of other tasks even if he is not back. Go on.”

The girls scurried back to the house. Avdi rose with a smile.

“Your daughters have surprisingly little fear of me,” Anchor said.

“One of the Sun King’s Guardians is in town until the wyvern attacks end. It is about the same size as you are, if not alive.”

“I see.”

Paar returned with Avdi’s tools, and he got to work skinning the wolf and preparing some of the less bloody meat for roasting while leaving the remainder to dry and drain the blood. Anchor sat and silently observed him or his daughters when they came out to chat every now and again, though he did speak when Bedir, Avdi’s wife, emerged to greet him, and again when Raatar, the twelve-year-old son, returned from the market with some fruit and salt.

As the sun passed beyond the world and took the worst of its heat with it, the family arranged a rug outside to eat on, Anchor placing himself nearby.

“My kind consumes little, both in food and water,” Anchor said. “You need not share much.”

“You are our guest,” Bedir said. “You will have the largest portion.”

“You have greater need.”

“We are your hosts.”

“This is her territory, Anchor,” Avdi said. “You will not defeat her.”

“You have no home,” Bedir said.

She plopped a sliver of meat onto a plate.

“No memory of that home.”

Another sliver.

“No memory of even your name.”

Yet another, along with some fruit.

“So I think you are the one in greater need, no? Here. Eat.”

Bedir thrust the plate at the giant, who gingerly took it between two fingers.

“You have my thanks. If there is any way I can repay you for your kindness, please name it.”

“That is not necessa—” Avdi began.

“I hear that giants are a people of song,” Raatar said. “Have you any for us?”

Anchor looked from the boy to his parents.

“He speaks strangely for a child.”

“He’s imitating his dad,” Bedir said, ruffling the boy’s hair, who scowled. “Isn’t it cute?”

“Mooooom,” Raatar said.

The giant’s eyes crinkled again. His gaze roamed over the family, and then to the anchor beside him. He nodded.

“I do have a song, if you wish to hear it.”

All the children leaned forward, and while the parents tried to maintain a polite indifference to provide the giant a way out, the sparkle in their glance betrayed them.

He hummed. A deep, rhythmic hum like the push and pull of the tide. And then he sang in a tongue the others did not know. The song rolled over them, its earth-rumbling tones transporting them far, far beyond the barren land they called home. Even for these desert-dwelling folk, they felt the sea. Tasted the salt in the air. Smelled that ancient scent. These people of the sands came to know the ocean, though none had ever seen it.

The song ended. The waters drained away. Avdi and his family stared at the giant, whose distant gaze sought the name of the place he had lost. The hunter touched his cheeks. Wet. He had been crying.

“I seem to have caused you distress,” Anchor said. “Forgive me.”

“No, no, no,” Bedir said, wiping her own tears away. “Thank you.”

The rest of the family echoed her, though Raatar did his best to hide his face. Then they cleaned up, the family returning inside for sleep and Anchor reassuring Bedir that he preferred resting outside, especially since there was no chance of the house fitting him.

Avdi rose early the next morning to finish preparing the wolf. He found Anchor likewise awake and staring west. The giant bowed his head when he spotted the hunter.

“You have my gratitude again for your hospitality.”

“It was our pleasure.”

The giant’s gaze trailed past Avdi to the house.

“You have a good family.”

Avdi smiled proudly.

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Anchor looked to the west again.

“It is time for me to depart. Farewell, Avdi of the Desert Rose Tribe.”

“What about your anchor?”

The giant paused. The metal object lay in the sand where he had left it the previous night. A faint smile touched his face.

“I shall leave it here. Home… no longer remains behind. I shall seek it ahead.”

Avdi bowed.

“The Four Winds give you cool breezes.”

“And you as well.”

The hunter watched the giant until he became one with the horizon. He looked to the anchor and smiled.

Pattering feet drew his attention, and Raatar shot outside, eyes spinning about. The instant he spotted his father, the boy relaxed with a sigh.

“What has you all in a hurry this morning?” Avdi said.

“Thought you’d already started on the wolf. I’m helping.”

“Oh, are you, now? Can I trust you?”

Avdi’s lips quivered, threatening to betray the grin he was keeping in. Raatar stood ramrod straight in vague imitation of the Windchaser Guards. Avdi’s efforts to hide his grin redoubled.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. At ease.”

“At… You’re making fun of me!”

“Never. Come on. Let’s take care of this wolf.”