Cetina stood before a large open market stall bristling with weapons and armour. Zuhura’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the owner, a Frindal man chatting with what Anton presumed to be a mercenary captain.

“No.” Zuhura shook her head. “He is fraudulent.”

“I am not!” The owner shouted at Zuhura, stomping towards the front of the open stall. “Some stupid Nomad has no right to tell me how to run my business-”

His other customer gasped as he held a broken sword. The handle had completely disintegrated while the base of the metal sword was heavily rusted and badly chipped. Anton had watched him closely, he had not smashed it against anything, rather just swinging it like Cetina would before a training session. He dropped the broken parts and left, not before giving them a silent thanks.

The stall owner scowled at Zuhura. “You cost me-”

“Shut up.” Anton stood in before the stall owner. “Go back to peddling your crap to some other unsuspecting fool.”

The stall owner curled his fists but refused to swing first. He didn’t even see Cetina approach him from the side, when he did he huffed and left to hide the broken pieces of his sword.

“You’re oddly combative,” Anton said to Zuhura.

“I did not think that your…” Zuhura glanced at Cetina. “Guard, should be equipped with substandard equipment.”

“Thank you.”

“These are great!” Calo ran up to them. She held a large bundle of brightly coloured cloth over her head. Sheso carried hers in a more traditional manner while throwing her sister an odd look.

"I could tell just by his eyes," Zuhura said softly. "They were full of greed and delight, delight that he had scammed someone out of money."

"Doesn't sound like it's a good idea in the long run." Anton followed Cetina as she looked in all of the armour stalls, somewhat disappointed by what they found. "If I was robbed like that, and it came loose in a battle, I'd be coming back to give him a piece of my mind."

Zuhura nodded. "While that is true you still could have purchased faulty equipment and paid the price with your life. Or one of your companions. A future reckoning for his misdeeds does not stop a spear or arrow tip."

"Fancy words," Cetina grumbled.

Anton gave her hand a quick squeeze. She wasn't actually annoyed, well, not completely.

Zuhura stopped before a modest-looking stall. She waved her hand at Anton, who only just caught it in his peripheries before turning a corner.

"You can just yell my name," Anton said. He quickly caught Cetina's attention and brought her back. "It's much easier."

"I have been taught never to raise my voice to a man." Zuhura coughed, flattening the thin veil covering her mouth. "I-I believe this establishment will be more than sufficient."

The stall owner did not hear as he was currently engaged with three other prospective buyers.

"This does look good." Cetina mused as she looked at the armour. "It's light too...Zuhura? Is this what most people out in the deserts wear? Harm's guards and those in the arena wore more than this."

Zuhura shook her head. "In the desert, no. Raw metal burns against the skin and causes all manner of problems."

"What about you?" Axia asked. She pointed to the thick band holding Zuhura's veil over her nose. "There's gold there."

"My headscarf keeps the sun off my face." Zuhura frowned as she ran a finger along the edge of the finely woven fabric. "And you should consider one as well. Maybe not as long or expensive..." Zuhura's finger lingered near the bottom of the scarf for some time. "It will keep the sun off your head and prevent sand from entangling itself in your hair."

Calo and Sheso pulled on Anton's sleeve. They pointed to their ears, hidden underneath their helmet and a tightly bound piece of cloth.

"We'll get a rough size for you two," Anton said. "And at least some armour."

Anton pulled the loose cloth on Sheso's arm. "A good spear will go right through this."

"We should get something as well," Axia said as she entered the open stall. "Cetina? Which do you think is a good piece? I have no idea."

Cetina began to explain the different advantages and disadvantages of the displayed armour sets. Mezot quickly moved to her daughters' side while Calo and Sheso meandered in and began perusing, leaving Anton with Zuhura. She remained perfectly still, with her hands lightly clasped in front of her, as she patiently waited for further instructions.

"Do you not want anything?" Anton asked. Zuhura looked at him with her brown eyes, unspeaking but wanting more clarification.

"You aren't wearing any armour." Anton tapped the small dagger on his belt. "If someone were to attack you, you wouldn't stand a chance. Unless you're already wearing some."

"Women are forbidden to fight," Zuhura replied calmly. "So there is no need for armour or weapons. And...I am only wearing a single piece of cloth underneath this."

Zuhura pulled the front of her shawl up and let it drop. Anton noticed how far it did not fall, confirming some of his suspicions.

"You should at least have a dagger with you if you're going to be travelling with us. We...Going to strange and exotic places is always fraught with danger. You understand that we're going to find the Feral Beastkin. Right?"

"I am aware. But-"

Anton unfastened one of his daggers, a cheap one he had taken from a slain enemy, who or where it came from he could not remember, and passed it to Zuhura. She hesitated to even touch the leather sheath, let alone its handle, before finally accepting the blade.

"Keep it well hidden if it's a problem to have it seen." Anton pointed to her boots. "Try hiding it there. Maybe strap it to your leg with a bit of cloth."

"I-"

"Even if you don't use it it's something good to have on you, just in case." Anton smiled as he entered the stall. "The sight of a sharpened steel might just be enough to dissuade someone trying to rob or assault you."

Zuhura stared at the dagger. A shaky hand pulled it out an inch before she ran her finger alongside the edge. She scammed the dagger back into its sheath and held it tight in her hand.

"Thank you," Zuhura whispered. She hid the dagger up her sleeve and entered the shop.

---[]---

"It will be extremely difficult to travel alone through the deserts." Zuhura continued to explain as they neared the southern city walls. They had been walking for some time, considerably more than when they had crossed the Graterious capital Boreana, and only now was the wall in sight. "Certainly impossible for us as we do not have mounts."

"What do they have here?" Anton asked. "No horses, they wouldn't like this heat or the sand."

"I don't want to bring mine here," Cetina mumbled.

"Camels?” Anton offered. “They seem pretty tough."

"There are no horses. But, we do have other creatures." Zuhura nodded towards the open southern gate. "Now you can see why horses would not work here."

Beyond the gate lay a smattering of small houses and sparse arid plantations, full of date trees and other hardy fruit-bearing plants. Beyond that lay a golden brown desert extending as far as the eye could see, broken up by numerous tall and craggy mountains, standing tall and defiant against the seas of sand.

“Oh…” Anton chuckled. “There’s no way we’re going to find our way with this.”

He tapped the place where he had placed the map of Frindal. It was very detailed but it would be incredibly easy to get lost in the endless expanse of sand. He doubted the mountains would mean much to a foreigner like him.

“It’s not completely barren.” Zuhura pointed to the closest mountain. “There are cities outside of the coast, not as many or as populated.”

At the base Anton could just make out a small settlement, green against the brown mountain and yellow sand. The buildings had mostly been carved into the mountain, just like the Orcs at the Red Spines.

“I understand now…” Anton looked back along the city. He could barely see the port, the masts of the ships were obscured by the innumerable buildings they had passed. “There’s a lot of people here. Anyway, do we think we have everything ready?”

“I think so,” Cetina said. “We have the stones if things get difficult.”

Zuhura raised a black brow but said nothing.

Anton checked over himself. He wore a lighter set of white and light clothes, similar to the other Frindal Men but with his Arachnid silk underlay still on. Ulyaa’s thread was truly the work of miracles, incredibly strong, light and didn’t make Anton overheat. It was also deceptive. No one would think he was wearing clothes underneath that would easily stop a blade. The other women in his group now looked similar to Zuhura. None of their body was exposed apart from their face, even their hair was covered by a thick and colourful headscarf.

Calo and Sheso wore matching colours, a dull purple, along with a thick headscarf that hid their helmet and long ears. They had managed to hide their long ears when they had changed, along with hiding their many weapons. Mezot and Axia wore similar clothes as well, Mezot an icy blue and Axia a bright red. Their charms were now wrapped tight and hidden from few. Mezot said it was not necessary to have them exposed in order to work, it appeared to be just a cosmetic choice. Cetina was far more extravagant, at least compared to the rest, so much so that even Zuhura raised a brow at her colour scheme choice, wearing a mixture of yellow, red and blue for her shawl. She was rather impressed at how it came together, Anton did not have to hear to tell her it looked unbelievably gaudy. Her sword was hidden, just like the twins, but her shield was too large. She had bought a smaller shield, a bit larger than a buckler, while she carried her current shield over her back.

Together they carved a strange sight through the Khoradeh streets. Anton felt it was odd that he was the most plainly dressed, despite being the one that directed where they were going.

“Zuhura? Don’t we look a bit...Odd?”

“...No.”

That’s a yes.

Anton sighed. “So long as they don’t think we’re an easy mark. A few blasts of magic, even a few healings, should be more than enough to keep them at bay.”

“Be careful with magical displays,” Zuhura said softly. “The Sana Vākaras might try something if they think you’re easy prey.”

“But you can point them out to us.” Anton smiled. “So we don’t make terrible decisions.”

“I will try.”

“Are we going to carry these the whole time?” Calo raised her bundle of brightly coloured cloth. “If we are...I might just want to go home.”

“No.” Zuhura continued walking towards the southern gate. “The Nomad Tribes always travel with transportation. One cannot cross and survive in the desert without the necessary tools and equipment.”

“Anything magical?” Anton stopped himself. “I honestly doubt they would have anything here. Although...If they did it would make them very powerful.”

Once we’re travelling I’ll see about making that endless water skin. I still have the cold stone, but that’s still in Atros.

“There is almost always a Nomad Tribe camped just outside the city walls,” Zuhura said. “We will barter with them for transportation and protection. It is the only safe way to travel through the deserts.”

Anton wondered if the Nomad’s would dress differently than the Frindal’s. Their lifestyle and environment were entirely different, infinitely more sand and less water but there were only so many ways to effectively deal with the desert. The people they passed became more weathered and their clothes more tattered and rough, where the unending and unrelenting winds and sands had weathered the cloth thin and the people were not rich enough to replace.

Seems the poorer districts are nearer to the desert. I suppose that makes sense. Why would you want to have sand throughout your house?

Zuhura’s body relaxed as they passed through the large city gate, flanked by dozens of armoured guards and archers patrolling the walls. Anton stepped around her and his jaw almost dropped. A small sprawling tent city lay nestled against the city wall, the tents made from simple and cheap cloth while brightly coloured figures moved amongst them and the market stalls.

“I thought you couldn’t have markets inside…” Anton smiled. “I see the loophole. Why doesn’t Hazm clamp down on it?”

“It keeps the peace.” Zuhura did not stop walking. “And Hazm eventually gets his share of the money. Of that I can assure you.”

I wonder what else you have seen. Maybe something incriminating? Or perhaps Hazm is completely honest and innocent? Maybe we’ll never know.

“Anything interesting in these markets?” Axia asked. She pulled her headscarf back to get a better look at the market. “Anything that might interest us?”

“No Hamtaro’s.” Zuhura glanced back at Anton. “Or any other creatures.” She looked back to the Nomad tents. “But mostly foods and minerals that they trade with the Frindal’s. But you can get better weapons and armour inside the city, these are still better than going without.”

Anton inspected the items on display as they passed. They were mainly raw resources; spices, foods and strange coloured salts. But the people interested Anton the most. The women dressed the same but had less jewellery and a piece of long cloth hanging from their temples almost reaching their chin. Two slits lay in the middle, where the eyes would rest if the cloth piece covered their face. Anton also saw some thicker straps lines of cloth along the top and bottom of the piece for support. The men did not have the mouth veil, like Zuhura, but one that covered their entire face with another slit for their eyes. Evidently, blinding sandstorms were a significant threat. Anton looked towards the south. The clear and seemingly endless blue skies hinted nothing as to why the Nomads wore, and continued to wear, such thick coverings.

Zuhura deftly guided them through the outer perimeter of the Nomad Tents. They did attract some attention, they were the only ones not from this Nomad Tribe to be travelling so deep. Some looked on warily but none had tried to stop them. Yet. Anton did not like the feeling that they were slowly being surrounded, something he saw in Cetina, Calo and Sheso’s wandering eyes.

“I…” Zuhura pointed to the largest tent. On top fluttered a red flag with an orange shield, the shield had a large cut on the right side. “This Tribe is the Baladī Aga. A good tribe. And I believe that belongs to the tribal leader. As outsiders we must speak with him first. Any deals we might make will be void unless we already have his approval.”

“This isn’t the Tribe that you came from. Is it?” Anton asked. “I don’t want to be ambushed-”

“My tribe is still far to the south,” Zuhura said rather forcefully. “I doubt we will meet them. And I do not wish to either.”

Being bartered to Hazm, the threat of death coming at any moment while serving the man who would inflict would not endear me to my family.

Anton saw the first Nomads that wielded weapons. Unlike the Costal Frindals these use a mixture of bone and metal weapons. Anton did not know how strong they were but, undoubtedly, the Nomads wouldn’t use something that was a detriment to their survival. They simply wouldn’t be here if it did.

Zuhura stopped a few meters from the wary guards but did not speak. Anton presumed that women were not to speak first.

"Hello." Anton stood next to Zuhura, who stepped back a single step. "We wish to speak with your leader in regards to travelling with your group to the western borders."

"You already are on the western border or Frindal, Outsider." The guard spoke softly and with a slight accent.

"Not in the interior," Anton said. "I believe that border connects with the Feral Beastkin."

The guards shared a glance.

"And why would an outsider wish to travel so far?"

"Research," Anton said proudly. "As you can tell I am not from here. I am originally from Graterious, far across the northern seas. I seek to study the Feral Beastkin, to see how they differ from the ones held by the Seocurians."

The guards were unmoved by Anton's words.

"I am also more than willing to pay for the journey, as well as offer any assistance that my education allows me."

One of the guards raised his hand. "I will discuss this with our Elders. They will decide if you can come with us."

The guard slinked into the tent. Anton did not even catch a glimpse of what lay inside.

"It is improper for a woman to speak first," Zuhura said softly. "Especially when trying to petition a Tribal Elder."

"I hope you will stop me before I say or do something stupid," Anton whispered back.

"I will." Zuhura smiled beneath her veil. "But so far you have done everything correctly. I hope that it continues."

The guard emerged, careful not to throw open the flap any further than necessary.

"They will see you." The guard stepped to one side. "But it is up to them to determine if you can travel with us."

Again Zuhura did not move. She looked at Anton, then to the tent.

Right. I'm supposed to go first.

Anton gingerly entered the tent first. He was expecting the guards to admonish him for presuming the rest were allowed in but the guards remained silent.

The interior of the tent was sparsely furnished, simple tables and chairs lay unoccupied while four men and three women sat on large, plush cushions around a small bronze sphere. A small fire burned underneath the sphere, seven pipes, of a material Anton had not seen before, led out of the top of the sphere and into a long brass implement in each of their hands. One of the men brought the end to his lips and sucked hard. His lungs filled with something, his face softened and he slowly exhaled a dark purple smoke.

Ah. I see. Hopefully they aren't stoned out of their minds and...Actually, that might make things easier. Just offer them some good food and we'll be done.

The man slowly turned to Anton.

"Welcome outsider." The man spoke as softly as the guard, but there was a slight crackle to his voice, Anton guessed from inhaling so much smoke. "We do not see many of your kind here, especially in the desert."

"I have not seen many from Graterious either..."

Well, this was fun. I don't know how to address them...

Zuhura leant close. "Honoured Elders."

"Honoured Elders." Anton gently bowed his head. "I wish to petition for travel and safety to the western-"

Another man waved him down. "Sit. Sit. Man of Graterious. This seems like it might be a long conversation."

He nodded to an empty cushion between one of the women and men, both of whom were drawing heavily on the purple smoke.

"Thank you."

As Anton moved to take his seat Zuhura quickly spoke with the others and directed them to sit behind him. Cetina clearly wanted to stand but eventually gave in. They all sat however they did not sit with their legs tucked underneath their rear. Two of the men and one women began to mutter amongst themselves.

"Interesting." The woman next to Anton blew out a great breath of smoke, thankfully not at his face. "Seems like at least one of you knows how to sit properly."

But...You're sitting nothing like Zuhura. None of you are.

"If you want a draw you can have one." The woman offered Anton her pipe. "It'll clear your head of any troubles you might have."

"I..." Anton glanced back to Zuhura. She gave no indicator as to what he should do. "Perhaps another time."

"Fine by me." The woman took back her pipe and continued to draw on the purple smoke.

Anton cleared his throat. "I, and my companions, wish to meet the Feral Beastkin. I have been informed that it is infinitely safer to travel with one of the Nomad Tribes. Especially since I do not know the way exactly, nor how to survive in the desert. I can pay you for your assistance, if that is what is required.”

“Sure.” The first man shrugged. “So long as you cover your own expenses...And make sure that you don’t start any fights, I don’t see a problem with it.”

The others gently shook their heads. Two of the men needed to be nudged awake, they shook their heads and quickly agreed with whatever had been said around them.

“Is...Is that it?” Anton looked back. Zuhura remained perfectly still, apart from her breathing. The others looked quite surprised as well, except for Mezot who was more interested in the brass sphere and hopefully not its contents.

“Yes. We aren’t as paranoid as those Frindals.” The man drew heavily on the smoke, sputtering as he slowly exhaled. “But don’t think that we are easy prey either. Many have learned the hard way.”

“T-Thank you.” Anton bowed his head. “Though we are few in number we will do everything we can to help. Is there anyone in need of healing? I feel that I should do something to repay...”

Zuhura let out a tiny cough. The atmosphere of the room had instantly changed.

Sana Vākara’s offer healing too. An excuse to convert people. Nothing like mine...But they don’t know that.

“If you think that you, outsider, are going to proselytise that disgusting belief that you-”

Anton raised his hands. “Forgive me. I have not even been here a day. I do not follow the Sana Vākara’s faith, nor have I even met one, but I have been told it is a sore subject. I do not mean faith healing but actual magic.”

“Magic?” The man next to Anton scoffed. “In Frindal? You must be mad!”

Anton summoned a small Lightning and Fire Bomb. Their drugged eyes opened in shock, though it wasn’t enough to stop them from continuing to smoke.

“I can perform actual magic, not whatever the Sana Vākaras claim to use.”

“Fire and Lightning?” The man slowly nodded. “That will come in use...Do you know of the dangers of the desert?”

“I know of dehydration, heatstroke and hallucination.” Anton offered. “But I have the feeling that’s not what you’re talking about.”

“Sometimes those are the biggest killer.” The man leant back and stretched out his legs. “I remember coming across a caravan, there must have been two or three hundred Nomads. All dead.” He leant forward and pointed the end of the pipe at Anton. “They had run out of water less than half a day’s walk from the nearest oasis.”

“Do you mean monsters?” Cetina asked softly.

The men threw her a slightly dirty look. Cetina held her ground, metaphorically speaking, by staring right back at them until they slowly cast their eyes back to the brass sphere. Anton noticed that even the women were giving Cetina dirty looks, far worse than the men.

Wow. Really?

“That woman.” The man next to Anton began. “Is she a warrior?”

“She is,” Anton replied firmly. “And she has killed many would-be assailants, even those that did not underestimate her based solely on what does not dangle between her legs.”

The man seemed somewhat impressed. Or he could have just been having another high from the smoke.

"Is there going to be a problem with my companions having weapons?" Anton asked flatly. "Though I appreciate that our laws and customs may be different, I will not have them unarmed."

"So long as they don't flout it." One of the women mumbled. "As Outsiders you will be forgiven for some...indiscretions."

You really don't want women to have any weapons. I wonder if it's because you're afraid what might happen if they did? While it's clearly embedded in the older generations the younger might be more open.

"Thank you," Anton said. "I know they will only use their weapons in self-defence."

Again some of the men grumbled but none voiced any real objections.

"If you have any sick or wounded please send them to me. I can heal them, even if it's a fatal wound if I can get there fast enough. I can do this for free, since we will be travelling together."

The tribal Elders shared a look.

"My son is quite ill." One of the two men who had almost fallen asleep spoke. "Desert Lung. It's like he's breathed only sand for a whole season. It is terrible to listen to..."

He quickly drew on the smoke, not speaking until the smoke leaked through his nose.

To try and forget the screams and pleas...

"Should not be a problem."

"If that's true then you can come in my sled." He shakily rose to his feet. "Otherwise you'd probably be walking the whole way."

"That would be tiring for us." Anton slowly nodded. "But I have not seen one of these sleds-"

"Come then." He stumbled over the pipes and motioned for Anton to stand. "Let's see if you're telling the truth."

---[]---

Anton's heart was torn when he saw the son. He was little more than a boy, barely eight years old a day already he was fighting for his life. A battle he was sadly losing. He lay in a bed covered in blankets, yet he shivered like he had been dropped naked into the snow. Sweat poured from his face, the pillow was saturated and his eyes chaotically twitched back and forth. But it was the cough that made Anton truly sick. The poor boy could barely breathe, every other breath preceded a cough that brought up Phlegm and a shattering of blood.

"Bedes?" The Nomad Elder knelt by the bed. "Can you hear me?"

Two women, dressed in the Nomad fashion, sat by his side. As the Elder approached they hurried out of his way, keeping their eyes cast down.

"Can you hear me?"

Bedes began to cough violently again. A hand gripped his chest as his head rolled back and forth.

"Is it contagious?" Anton asked. "If he is you shouldn't be that close."

"No." The man rested his hands on the edge of the bed. "Only if you drink the contaminated water. I told him..." He shook his head. "By the time I saw what he was drinking it was too late."

“I will do what I can.” Anton stepped closer to the sick child. “I believe that I can do it.”

“Please…” The man couldn’t bear to look at his son any longer.

Please let this work. The only thing’s that going to stop me is some sort of magic immune disease. Please do not let it be this one.

Anton placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. Through the globe he could feel the warmth, Bedes was burning. The fact that he was still alive was nothing short of a miracle. Anton mumbled a healing prayer, he didn’t know what the Nomad Tribes thought of the Old Gods. The Mana Dampening field caused him to expend a massive amount of mana, on top of what was required for healing such a sickly child. His hand began to shake from the withdrawal but that was barely a concern. Bedes breathing calmed, the colour returned to his skin and his eyes focused. He blinked at Anton then quickly turned his attention to his father.

“Dad?” Bedes struggled to sit up. “W-What happened? I...Don’t know-“

“Bedes!” The man lunged and hugged his son tight. “I thought that I’d lose you!”

You were spending your time getting high with the other Elders. But...What else could you do if nothing works?

“Dad.” Bedes smiled nervously. “I feel better. So much better...All I could think of...”

“I can’t believe that you’re better.” The man hugged his nervous son and jumped to his feet. “Thank you, Anton.”

“It was my pleasure…”

The man smiled. “Oh, sorry. My name is Temur. I didn’t give it before…” Temur shook Anton’s hand with all his might, the moment he stopped they began to shake. “Forgive me, Outsider. I am just so relieved to know that my boy will live.”

“You mentioned water.” Anton smiled at Bedes. “Where did you find this water?”

“It was an oasis.” Bedes pulled himself up. The two Frindal women rushed to his side and delicately helped him. “Thank you.” He frowned lightly at Anton. “It was an oasis away from the normal...routes. It seemed really nice. Nestled at the base of a mountain, with many large trees and fruit bushes. The water seemed fine-”

“Couldn’t you see the poison floating over it?” Temur knelt by Bedes. “The moment I found you I could see the poison shimmering in the air? You must have been breathing it for almost a whole day.”

Some sort of heavy poison that evaporated from the oasis but was trapped by the small depression? It would continue to accumulate and could easily prove to be lethal.

“Do you remember where this oasis is?” Anton asked. “Though it sounds dangerous we should still have a look. Others could fall victim to it if we don’t deal with it, one way or the other.”

“I do,” Bedes said happily. “I do remember. I-”

Temur held his head. “We can discuss this later. For now, I think you need to rest.”

“But I feel fine!” Bedes threw his arms into the air. Despite his bluster they shook at the strain of having to hold them upright.

“Rest for now.” Temur ruffled his hair once more. “We’ll talk more at dinner.”

“Okay.” Bedes closed his eyes. “I feel fine. Really I…”

Bedes had fallen into a deep sleep. His head slumped to one side as he breathed softly, nothing like the rancid cough he had before.

Temur turned to the two women. “Make sure he stays in bed. I don’t want him to be moving until he’s properly rested.”

“Of course, Elder Temur.” The two spoke and bowed as one.

Temur gave a tiny nod and motioned for Anton to follow him from the room. Calo and Sheso shared a shrug as they followed Anton close behind.

“Thank you,” Temur said the moment they left the tent. “I thought I had lost him. I…” He scratched the back of his head. “I was honestly just waiting for them to tell me he had died. I know it sounds terrible as a father but there was nothing I could do. There is no cure for Desert Lung that bad...And yet.”

“If there is anyone else in your Tribe that is suffering from the disease, or any similar to it, I will do what I can to heal them. But know that I cannot do it indefinitely. These lands interfere with my ability to use mana. I dare not use too much, but one or two a day would be fine.”

“That would be wonderful.” Temur smiled. “We should be paying you to travel with us. The other tribes would be so envious. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to see their faces.”

“Why is magic so hard to use here?” Mezot asked. She held her cloth-wrapped staff tight. “I’ve never felt anything like it. The people inside the city do not seem to know, or are not willing to say anything.”

Temur scoffed. “Of course not. They’ve got too much salt in their heads. It’s the sea, you see. It makes their minds weak and soft.” Temur nodded towards the west. “I remember my grandfather telling a story of a group of wandering mages that were shipwrecked on the coast. They...They came from the south and wanted to head north. Anyway, they felt it too. Some sort of Mana Inhibitor, I think the called it. The further west you go the stronger it gets. I’m pretty sure they found something in one of the mountains. What, I cannot say. I think it’s clear to say that they didn’t destroy it.”

“Do we have time?” Mezot asked excitedly. “Maybe we can discover what it is.”

“Once we have finished our investigation of the Feral Beast-kin then we should have some spare time.”

Mezot frowned softly. “But aren’t-”

Axia lightly jabbed her mother’s side. Mezot closed her mouth and nodded once.

“Walk with me.” Temur pointed to the south. “We will be leaving tonight, it is safest to travel during dawn and dusk, but you will want your accommodations for the night.”

“Thank you again for doing this for us.” Anton began. “We-”

Temur waved him down. “You saved my son’s life. That’s more than enough. But I think your magic will be extremely useful if, when, we encounter the desert monsters.”

“And what are they?” Cetina asked.

“Many dangerous creatures,” Zuhura said. “Giant Scorpions. Blood Vultures. Hordes of Sand Lions and even the Great Manticores. The beasts stalk the dunes and mountains. It would be extremely dangerous if we encountered one.”

“So long as they aren’t magically resistant,” Anton said. “But you haven’t seen what we’re capable of. A magical beast doesn’t worry me.”

“It should,” Zuhura spoke softly. “They are very fast and dangerous.”

“Haven’t seen one in a very long time.” Temur shrugged as he led them through the sprawling tent. “A very long time. But they’re afraid of our Weevils. Something about them just drives them mad. Since we’ve started using them alongside our Camels we haven’t had any problems. Of course, the other things still attack us if they’re brave enough...Not to mention it does not affect humans.”

“Bandit tribes?” Anton asked.

“There are some.” Temur glumly nodded. “Some tribes just raid...Then pretend they didn’t steal or killed people when they run into the next tribe, even when we’ve seen.”

“One of those wouldn’t be you. Would it?”

“No.” Temur smiled. “But we have had to deal with them in the past. Not to mention Sana Vākara fanatics.”

“More religious freaks.” Cetina murmured.

Temur glanced at Cetina. “We don’t have many priests of The Holy Father, they tend to get run out of Frindal or simply killed, but I despise all of them. They twisted something that was simple and pure, to try and help people through difficult times, and into money and control…”

“No different from what I’ve seen so far,” Anton said softly. “But everyone should just try and live peacefully amongst each other.”

“That is what we try to do…” Temur smiled. “Ah. Here we are.”

The Tribal tents abruptly stopped. Large camels, larger than the ones from Earth, idled around the pens, long leashes tied to bone poles rammed deep into the ground as they munched on orange leaves. They barely acknowledged anyone’s presence, only when they got to close and threatened to spit at the Nomads. Judging by the orange stains on those nearby the Camels had impressive aim.

“Do we sit on them?” Calo asked.

“I...I don’t think they’re going to let us.” Axia chuckled nervously. “Looks like they’re going just going to spit on us.” Axia raised her arm. “I kind of like this cloth.”

“They’re fine.” Temur laughed. “Just a little temperamental if they don’t know who you are.”

Despite his assurances, Temur refused to get close to the Camels. They, in turn, watched him as they munched on the orange leaves and lapped at the water sitting in a giant trough.

“But these camels mainly carry our luggage, stuff that cannot fit on our Sleds.” Temur continued walking towards the south. “The Weevils are just over there.”

A large series of tents obscured their view further. Anton even saw several Nomad soldiers, these too wielded bone and iron weapons, patrolling near the tents. When they saw Temur they straightened their backs. He gave them a nod as they passed by, only a glance was spared for Anton has his companions.

“Here they are,” Temur announced. “Beautiful beasts, aren’t they?”

Before Anton could respond four hands grabbed him. Calo, Sheso, Mezot and Axia held any part of him they could find.

The Weevils were exactly that. Giant Weevils. Easily twenty meters tall, even when they were lying down in the sand. Their compound eyes were larger than they were, Anton could see the individual honeycombed sections, but they were covered in a light dusting of sand and dust. A young Nomad woman emerged from on top of the Weevil and gingerly stepped along its back. The creature’s long head moved back and forth slightly but did not try to rise. The young woman stood between his eyes and poured a large bucket of water of its eyes. A pleasing sound emanated from the Weevil’s small mouth, it rocked back and forth and shook the water and sand from its eyes.

“The Weevils can’t stop the sand from getting into its eyes,” Temur explained when he saw them all looking. “When we’re travelling we place these large pieces of cloth over their eyes.”

Temur pointed to large sheets of pale brown cloth resting near the tents. They looked remarkably similar to the face veils the Frindals and Zuhura wore, except truly massive in size.

As the Nomad woman walked back along the Weevils back Anton saw the Sled. He understood immediately why the Weevils were so large. The Sled was considerably larger than even the weevil, with a wide base to allow it to slide over the sand without sinking in and minimising drag as much as possible. On top lay a series of tightly stacked buildings, which looked mainly to be storage rather than habitation.

“So you set up camp each night?” Anton asked.

“It’s a lot easier on the Weevils than all of us trying to climb on.” Temur smiled. “Don’t worry. There’s more than just one. I believe we have forty-”

“Forty?” Anton coughed. “How do you feed so many of these...gigantic beasts?”

“They eat surprisingly little.” Temur shrugged. “A lot less than the camels even. No one really has any idea why.”

Maybe they’re the reason why the mana in this place is so messed up. They’re absorbing it in place of food. An interesting thought, but there’s no way for me to find out without causing a scene.

“So where will we be?” Anton asked.

“You’ll travel with me, in my sledge.” Temur pointed to a Weevil in the distance. “It’s the least that I can do for what you’ve done for my son. You can rest and relax, unless we get into some kind of battle. Then…” Temur winced slightly. “Then I ask for your help in defeating them.”

“Of course.” Anton smiled. “We wouldn’t be able to make it through the desert without you. But does your home have some privacy? There is something that I need to do before your tribe starts to leave tonight. I presume that we aren’t going to be needed to help with that?”

“Of course not.” Temur smiled as he looked between the women behind him. “I’ll give you the highest room. It’s quite high up so no one will hear anything.”

Anton glanced back. “I guess that’s one way you could put it.”

All the women grew a little nervous, even Axia and even Zuhura. She had been given into Anton’s service, but he didn’t think it extended that far.

A servant that would go that far...I’m sure Verona would say something right now.

---[]---

“This is really high.” Axia lent over the railing of the highest building on the sled. “So high. Do you think they use this as some kind of fortress? When they’re under attack?”

Anton studied the position. It was indeed quite high, far higher than the slumbering Weevils, but there were not many defensive positions. The railings were open, only designed to prevent someone from falling. That being said it did offer an unprecedented vantage point. Though there were no levels above them there was a ladder to the roof where a small post rose even higher, simple steps had been built to a type of crow’s nest on the top.

“That makes more sense.” Anton pointed to the mast.

“I want to head up there.” Sheso pointed to the top of the crow's nest. “We Dar…” She looked at Zuhura. “We can see very far from up there. And I think we can see further than most.”

“Will the Nomads have an issue with a woman being so high?” Anton asked Zuhura.

Zuhura shook her head. “No. There shouldn’t be an issue.” Zuhura smiled beneath her veil. “And they already know you are strange people.”

“Alright.” Anton patted their heads. “Just don’t do anything stupid. Don’t do anything that would make me upset. Understood?”

The twins gave a rough salute and darted past him to quickly clamber up the ladder. Their new clothes did not impede them in any way, years of working in their normal loose clothing. Zuhura watched them with curiosity.

“What were they about to say?” She asked softly. “It wasn’t that they wanted to climb the tower.”

Anton heard the soft footsteps of the Dark Elf twins as they began to climb. He heard the argue amongst themselves but not what they were saying exactly.

“They…”

No. I can’t just ask how Zuhura feels about the Dark Elves. The answer would be obvious…

“Let’s head inside first.” Anton opened the door.

Zuhura coughed lightly but followed them inside. The interior was rather cramped, space was clearly at a premium, even for a Sled belonging entirely to an Elder, with small and narrow beds resting right next to one another. There were no dividers to block sight and one would have to crawl along the bed to properly lie down. Regardless, it was enough to get some good sleep, with small wardrobes to tightly pack clothes and other valuables.

“Doesn’t seem so bad.” Anton mused. “Most of the Nomads probably only come inside to sleep, so they don’t need to be as spacious as normal homes.”

“There’s another room back here.” Cetina walked through to the far side. “Maybe we can put the stones there.”

She opened the door, revealing an empty room.

“Maybe it’s somewhere to change?” Axia offered. “So you don’t have to strip in front of everyone.”

“It…” Zuhura seemed strangely rattled. “It appears to be.”

“I’ll check that it works.” Cetina returned and squeezed Anton’s hand. “See you in a bit.”

Cetina closed the door. Anton saw the white light beginning to seep underneath the door. Zuhura frowned at Anton, she wanted to ask but was not willing to speak first.

“Zuhura? Can you keep a secret? You will find out sooner rather than later, and it’s probably for the best that you hear it from us.”

Zuhura’s body tensed but she still waited patiently.

I honestly hope you don’t think we’re about to do something horrible to you.

“But...But it might be easier if I just have them show it to you.”

Anton moved to the door, Zuhura stepped one step back and eyed Anton carefully. Anton said nothing, pretending that he had seen nothing amiss, and stepped outside. He climbed up the ladder and saw Calo and Sheso on the very top of the mast, peering out into the vast deserts like sailors searching for new land. Anton called out and the two hurried down. Again their new clothes did not impede them in any way. He motioned for them to come down to their room. Inside Zuhura was speaking with Mezot and Axia, both of the Graterians looked a little nervous by what Zuhura was asking. The moment Anton stepped inside Zuhura clamped her mouth shut. Mezot looked slightly bemused, Axia threw Anton a worried look.

“It’s nothing too serious,” Anton said. He closed the door after the twins. “So don’t panic. It’s probably best if you two just show her.”

Calo tapped her helmet. “You mean…”

“Yes. We’re going to be travelling together for some time. And an accident will more than likely happen over the next couple of days, especially when we’re all sleeping in the same room.”

“If you say so.” Calo looked at her sister and shrugged.

Zuhura watched in silence as the twins removed their headscarves, their helmets and finally the cloth wrapping covering their ears. The long, brown ears sprung free. As the twins massaged their stiff ears Zuhura’s brows furrowed lightly. She looked towards the port and her body relaxed.

“I...I understand.”

“We didn’t know how Frindal would treat Dark Elves.” Anton held the twins' shoulders. “So we wanted to play it safe. They can easily pass as Seocurians, albeit their skin is a little light, but most people, both Frindals and Nomads, haven’t seen many. Worse case they’ll think they’re the result of a Graterian and a Seocurian.”

“I understand.” Zuhura bowed her head. “My apologies. I...Was fearing the worse.”

I’m not even going to ask what you were thinking.

“But I ask that you do not tell anyone-”

“The presence of a Dark Elf, or Elves, should not be an issue for the Nomads.” Zuhura smiled at the twins. “The Dark Elves ships cannot raid the desert, after all.”

Calo and Sheso pulled odd faces. It was more than likely that the stolen Frindal goods they found in The Shadow Isles actually came from Frindal, and not an unlucky Qaiviel or Bebbezzarian merchant.

“True…” Sheso scratched her ear. “But I don’t think the Frindals will be happy to see us.”

“So you can understand our concerns.” Anton patted the twins’ shoulders. “So I ask that you don’t say anything.”

“Of course.” Zuhura bowed her head. “I was becoming rather concerned.”

“Why?” Axia removed her headscarf and let it fall around her shoulders. “What did you think was about to happen to you?”

Zuhura tried to keep her face flat but Anton saw a faint redness to her cheeks.

“Really?” Anton folded his arms and raised his brow. “Do you think-”

The door opened and Cetina stepped through. She had removed her headscarf as well, a hand vigorously rubbed her temples.

“The portal still works. Just as bad as before but it...What happened?”

“Zuhura knows that Calo and Sheso are Dark Elves,” Mezot said flatly.

Cetina blinked at Mezot before a smile crept over her face. “Well, okay then. I dropped off all of our equipment on the other side.” Cetina raised her hands. “They were wondering why I was dressed like this.”

Anton chuckled. “I bet. Anything about the Hamtaro’s?”

“Nothing. But nothing bad either.” Cetina shrugged. “So I suppose that’s a good thing.”

“I want to head back and speak with Midas,” Anton said. “But someone-”

“Go back?” Zuhura frowned at Cetina. “Where exactly did you go?”

“That’s a little difficult to explain,” Anton said. “Just like the twins, it’s easier just to show you. The Hamtaro’s aren’t on The Snowberry anymore.”

Zuhura began to grow worried.

“We didn’t throw them overboard.” Anton smiled nervously. “If that’s what you’re thinking. Right now they are safe in Atros.”

“I have never heard of a city called Atros. Every part of the coast to the east of Khoradeh is covered by sheer cliffs, easily three or four hundred feet tall. Nothing can climb them...There are some birds but no cities...At least human cities.”

I suppose I could take the Chiroks and fly that way. That would be interesting, but it might just scare the Beast-kin to see us rolling on up in our normal armour. Not to mention we have no idea if anything is flying in the skies around here. There are Blood Vultures…

“Not there. Somewhere far away.” Anton frowned at Zuhura’s clothes. “Those clothes might actually work. How do they deal with the cold?”

“This style of dress works very well in both hot and cold conditions,” Zuhura said softly. “Is it in the mountains?”

“Somewhere far colder,” Anton said. “But you should be fine. If you wish to come with us. If you do not then it is perfectly fine.”

“I...Do not know.” Zuhura frowned. “I....Am not given much choice in what I do. Sultan Hazm transferred my service from him to you-”

“Go on.” Axia smiled. “Just have a look. You’ll be surprised by what you find there. We did, didn’t we, mother?”

Mezot nodded very intently.

“I...I will go.”

“We’ll stay here.” Calo began to wrap her ears in cloth. “It would be too suspicious if all of us left.”

“If they ask we’ll just say you’re having some fun.” Sheso winked, keeping her face deliberately flat. “Temur already thinks that’s what’s about to happen.”

“Mother and I will stay here too.” Axia looked up at Mezot. “You were talking about practising magic in this place. Right?”

“Yes!” Mezot seemed very happy. “I wish to try some experiments, to determine just how reduced our mana is. It will take some time…”

Mezot looked for something but couldn’t find it. She nearly dropped the staff from her hand and reached for one of Anton’s bags. He decided to play the game as he produced item after item, each time Mezot shook her head. She made a delighted noise when he produced the map. She snatched it from his hands and rolled it out.

“As we travel across the desert I can check how much our mana is being suppressed.” Mezot pointed to Khoradeh. “I’m sure it would be valuable information for the Graterious…” Her shoulders dropped. “Right. We can’t go back.”

Anton turned to Zuhura. “The story about us being from Graterious is a partial lie. Mezot is a Master of the Royal Academy, but we’ve had to flee for their safety.”

“I see…”

“That’s still a good idea, Mezot.” Anton patted her head, albeit still covered with her light blue headscarf. “Can I trust you to handle that by yourself? I will probably be distracted by a number of other things and I don’t want to forget.”

“You can rely on me.” Mezot seemed unexpectedly enthusiastic about it. Then again it was related to magic, so it wasn’t that unexpected.

“Okay then.”

Cetina opened the door, the white shimmering disk cast a bright light against the dark wood. Zuhura glanced at the white disk, then to Anton in doubt.

“It’s not that bad,” Cetina said. “Just step onto the white disk and you’ll arrive in Atros.”

Zuhura hesitated to take the step. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Is it safe?”

“Perfectly,” Anton said. “It’s how we got here after all.”

Zuhura took another deep breath and stepped onto the portal. She disappeared in a flash of light.

“Do you think it’s alright for her to go to Atros?” Cetina asked. “She could be a spy from Hazm? Or the Nomad tribe she originally hails from.”

“It is a possibility. But I will use a truth prayer on her in Atros, see where her allegiance lies.”

“I see.”

“And if she’s not…” Anton sighed softly. “It will be much easier to get rid of her there, where there are fewer witnesses.”

“I…” Cetina frowned. “Isn’t that a little cruel?”

“Perhaps. But she would have eventually figured something out. She’s not completely stupid.”

“Just…” Cetina held his arm. “Don’t become-”

Cetina nodded once and stepped through the portal. Anton stopped just before he stepped through and looked at those that were remaining behind.

“We won’t be long.” Anton smiled. “If something really bad happens just run into the portal. We can always find another way back.”

They gave a final wave and silently bade him to go through. Anton took a final breath and stepped through.