Anton awoke first. For the first time in a while he was on his side, normally he slept on his back even with his tail. Mezot lay next to him, gently breathing with her mouth slightly agape, her blonde hair laying limp against her face. Even though Anton had her in his arms she held the covers right up to her neck. Anton knew she was not cold, the room had a small fire that Anton had restocked during the night while the walls and the small windows did a good job at containing heat. Mezot just liked to rug up tight.

“First woman I’ve had by myself for some time.” Anton gently stroked the hair away from her face. Mezot’s eyebrows twitched but refused to wake. “I’m a little surprised by you, actually. Not to mention there’s not many people that can truly claim they’ve bedded their teacher.” Anton smiled and gently rubbed her back. “Especially ones that scream your name.”

Anton wormed his way underneath and held Mezot’s rear. The two soft orbs brought no end of enjoyment during the long night.

Mezot began to wake as Anton continued to rub her rear. Her eyes slowly opened and focused on his. She did not move and simply blinked at him.

“Good morning.” Anton said softly.

Mezot’s face softened. Her hands pulled away from the cloth bed sheets around her neck before settling on his chest. Small and delicate fingers traced the outline of his muscles, trailing down to his well-toned stomach. She even licked her lips as her fingers started to travel down further.

“Good morning?” Anton said again.

Mezot smiled and her fingers stopped. She shuffled closer, close enough for their nose to be nearly touching.

“You were quite rough.” Mezot kissed his nose. She winced as she rubbed her legs together. “But...Good Morning, Anton.”

Her hand reached over his waist to his tail. She brought it delicately into her hands and towards her chest. She shuffled back to give some space and began to caress the scaled limb.

“I didn’t think you could move it the way you did.” Mezot’s face reddened. “I wasn’t prepared…”

Anton felt his own face heat up. Though his tail spent most of its time wrapped around his waist he could control it incredibly well, much to Mezot’s, and the others delight.

“You certainly seemed to like it.” Anton kissed her. “So why should I have stopped?”

Mezot squirmed and kissed one of the four separate ends of his tail, the ends of which still glowed. Mezot’s brows began to furrow as she inspected them like she would anything related with magic.

“You explained to me how this happened to you.” Mezot picked at the scales at the end. “But what does it do?” Mezot relinquished her hold and let the tail fall between them. “Apart from making clothes...Difficult for you.”

“It holds something that I call a Charge.” Anton sat up, placing the end of his tail over his lap. He somehow felt that Mezot was a little disappointed that he hadn’t removed the bedsheets. “It allows me to do a few things. I haven’t told you any of this, have I?”

“You only told me how it happened to you.” Mezot sat up as well, she held the thinnest sheet to her chest though it did little to cover her. “That it wasn’t Cetina’s fault.”

“It’s not her fault. And don’t ever tell her that you might think that.”

Mezot remained blank faced to Anton’s words.

“But I can use it to do this.”

Anton held out his hand and tried to summon a sphere of Black Lightning. It was extremely hard to summon it, unlike his normal mana the charge was extraordinarily dense and refused to budge from his tail. He forced it and it began to flow like normal mana, albeit much slower, and summoned the sphere of black and white lightning.

“So this is what it can do.” Anton tried to push the violently twitching Black Lightning Orb away but it refused to move more than a few millimetres from the surface of his hand. “I can’t make it move but there is something that it can do…”

Mezot leaned close to the violently twitching sphere. She tried to reach out and touch the sphere, Anton grabbed her hand and pulled it away. Mezot let out a tiny squeak, his grip was relatively strong, and fell back slightly. She wiggled and moved close enough for their shoulders to touch.

“Please don’t do that.” Anton chuckled nervously. “I don’t know what might happen if you touch a normal piece of magic, I do actually, but if you touch this you might not be alive when it’s all over.”

Anton raised his left hand, to a band of scar tissue, rough and still seemingly raw despite its age.

“I was attacked, I think you know this, and they used Ghlyirl so I couldn’t use magic. But I could still use this.” Anton bounced his hand with the Black Lightning Sphere. “It backfired, sort of, but it worked. I managed to heal myself but this is the result. I can never get rid of this.”

Mezot’s fingers wrapped around the scar. “I thought...I thought that it was a normal scar.”

“No.” Anton smiled and rotated his wrist. Though Mezot could not hear anything he could feel the bones grinding against itself, she frowned and continued to rotate his hand. “See? I can restore limbs and heal the most deadly diseases and maladies. And yet, I can’t fix this.”

Anton looked to the Black Lightning Sphere. “But it can...Can you feel anything from this?”

“No.” Mezot perked up and scanned the room. She found her staff and Charm resting in the far corner. “Keep that going for a bit longer.”

Mezot shuffled off the bed and trotted to her staff. Anton said nothing as he watched her walk, a mesmerising sight. Mezot returned to the bed, with her staff in her hands and covering her chest, before clambering on all fours next to Anton. She folded her legs underneath her rear and held the Charm next to the sphere of Black Lightning.

“I’m not feeling any magic.” Mezot continued to frown. “It’s like it’s not there. And yet…” Mezot moved her Charm away. “What does it actually do? It seems like a terrible magic if it only hurts you.”

“It can do something.”

Anton focused his attention back onto the sphere. He slowly pulled a Marble Spear from the Black Lightning, with every piece that came out the sphere shrunk. Mezot looked very impressed by the finished product. Anton held the spear horizontally so it didn’t try and cut through the ceiling.

“If you do touch it your fingers will be torn to shreds. Even if you don’t touch the blade.”

Mezot could not hold back her curiosity and tapped it with her finger. She yelped and held her finger. Blood dripped from her finger when she opened her hand, deep lacerations covered the small section that had made contact.

“Did you feel anything?” Anton quietly healed her. “Beyond the pain?”

“It…”

Mezot maneuvered her Charm close to the Marble Spear, careful not to let the gemstones touch it. Anton wondered if the Charm would function if one was destroyed or if it would simply become too unstable to use.

“I felt something.” Mezot bit on her lip. “Like something was ripping at my skin. It wasn’t magic, not like what I’m normally used to, but I definitely felt something.”

“A different type of magic.” Anton scratched his chin. “Have you heard of Strega Witches?”

“I have. But only in passing when I was a student. Have you met one?”

“I have. And it would be nice if you could tell me if they’re similar.” Anton shrugged. “But that’s not important right now.”

Anton exited the bed on his side and gently placed the Marble Spear on the floor and released his control of it, as he would describe it. The spear’s surface slowly cracked before disintegrating into thousands of tiny cubes. Though there was no wind they continued to shrink and disappear into nothing.

“That could be a very effective weapon for assassination.” Mezot said softly. “The weapon disintegrates in a few moments after you let go.”

“I’m glad that’s the first thing you thought of.” Anton returned to the bed before softly kissing Mezot. “But if you can’t tell if there’s anything there then there’s not much we can do.”

“If we can return to the Royal Academy I’m sure there will be something there. But it’s probably still not safe for us to return. Not yet. ”

“I’m more worried about what they’re going to say when we turn up.” Anton sat on the bed, flexing his dragonoid feet. The claws gripped at the sheets and stretched several of the fibres. “Though it is their fault this whole mess happened in the first place.”

Mezot softly sighed. “If it weren’t for the Library…” She looked towards the dimming fire. “When are they going to come and get us?”

“I paid them until mid-day.” Anton took Mezot’s staff and placed it on the floor. He directed his tail to wrap itself around Mezot’s waist, much to her delight. “So we have a little time. Probably by a couple of hours before we’re really missed.” Anton pulled Mezot close and began to push her down. “But that’s what you were hoping for, wasn’t it?”

Mezot did not reply and leant up to kiss him, he pulled the covers back over them and indulged in the prize beneath him.

---[]---

Anton stepped through the portal to the Nomad camp, back in his Frindal attire. He wasn’t sure if he liked or hated it but it certainly drew too much attention outside of Frindal, Mezot followed a few seconds later, she too wearing her Frindal clothes. Anton didn’t particularly like how much of the body it covered but it was preferable to being whipped by unending sand and sun all day. However it did appear to lead to some attitudes that Anton found less than agreeable.

Mezot took a long breath, using her staff for support as she stepped off the portal. She looked a little distant after a long talk from Verona and Kal, mainly Verona.

“It’ll only be like that at the beginning.” Anton said. He gave Mezot’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Verona only does that once and then she calms down. Kal…”

“Kal didn’t say much.” Mezot smiled. “She just told me not to get pregnant before they have given birth.”

“I…”

Anton turned to the empty room. He could hear movement, the sound of wood dragging on sand. The Nomads only moved during dawn and dusk, when the desert sun and cold were at their weakest, and tiny streams of sunlight came through underneath the door.

“I don’t think Kal would have said something like that.”

“She did.” Mezot replied without emotion, without any sign that she was lying. “But I understand why.”

“Good thing Verona and Kal are safe in Atros.” Anton stopped at the door. He could hear faint voices on the other side, Cetina and Zuhura, if he wasn’t mistaken. “And what about you?”

“Me?” Mezot moved to the door.

“What are you going to say to your daughter? About us? She’s far from stupid.”

Mezot tensed as she mulled over her thoughts. “I...I will tell her. I’m sure I’ll manage to mess it up,” Mezot forced a smile. “But I will tell her.”

I’m sure she’s already made some guess as to why we are late, and Cetina returned early. She’s old enough to understand.

Anton gave Mezot a quick kiss and opened the door. Cetina and Zuhura waited to the side, discussing something about spices.

“Hello.” Cetina couldn’t hide her smirk. “Glad you two could make it.”

“We aren’t that late.” Anton looked towards the sun, just rising over the sand dunes. “Besides, everything’s fine here.”

“It is.” Zuhura frowned softly. “We are heading south...Is something the matter with her?”

Zuhura nodded towards Mezot. She stared towards the ladder to the lookout platform, looking for someone.

“Your daughter is up there with the...Twins.” Zuhura said. “She didn't appear too worried that you were not here.”

“I need to talk with her.” Mezot took a deep breath and held her staff tight to her chest. “I need to be the one to say this.”

Axia poked her head over the wooden floor right above their heads. “Hey! I was wondering when you would return. You missed breakfast.” Axia smiled wickedly, resting her chin on the edge of the wood. “But it looks like you’ve-”

The Sled shuddered to the side. Axia was propelled forward and screamed as she fell. Anton caught her, she was quite light in his arms, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Thanks...Thanks Anton.” Axia smiled as he tapped his hands, letting him know to let her down. She frowned at his waist. Though it was hidden by the loose clothes it was impossible to hide when something pressed against it. “I won’t ask about that. But it seems that I need to talk with my mother about something.”

Axia raised her hands. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious.” Her smile returned. “You don’t seem like the person to try and take advantage of someone, no matter what.”

Anton ruffled her headscarf. “Remember that your mother is an adult and has her own life to lead, just like you.”

Axia rolled her eyes. “I understand. But I just want to talk with her.”

“I do want to say something to you.” Mezot glanced at Cetina and Zuhura. “But it is a little...Difficult to say in front of so many people.”

Axia took her mother's hand as they both entered the room. Cetina shook her head and leant against the wooden railing.

“So was it good?”

“It was.” Anton smiled and gently pinched her rear. Cetina jumped and glanced at Zuhura. “I think you could learn a few things from her.”

“Really?” Cetina asked dryly.

“You,” Zuhura coughed. “Though I do not understand the customs of your city, it may not be wise to have so many public displays of affection to two different women.”

“I think that’s everywhere, honestly.” Anton raised his hands. “But I understand.”

“Most of the Tribe believes that you are either in a relationship with your bodyguard, Cetina, or with no one. They may find-”

Anton raised his hand again. “As I said, I understand. I’m not exactly going to be grabbing them,” Anton held Cetina’s waist. “And ramming my tongue down their throats in public.”

Zuhura’s face threatened to turn red. She looked out towards the passing dunes, taking every effort possible to bring her skin under control.

“So where are we heading today?” Anton asked.

Zuhura cleared her throat and brushed down her shirt. Before she could answer Calo and Sheso began to descend the ladder with the grace naturally afforded to the Dark Elves, even with their current attire.

“Hey Anton!” Calo gave a quick wave once her boots touched the floor. “You missed breakfast. They were serving up desert creatures. Thankfully not those Sana Vākara.”

“I hope the Nomad Tribes don’t have to resort to cannibalism.” Anton glanced at Zuhura. “Though I completely understand that the desert is not a place where one can afford to be squeamish about things.”

“It tastes surprisingly similar to pork.” Zuhura spoke without a hint of emotion. “Less chewy and more tender.”

“I…” Calo looked to her sister, who was still climbing down and apparently didn’t hear. She threw Calo an odd look.

“Back on topic.” Anton trailed off. He coughed. “Back on topic. Where are we heading today?”

“The Elders have decided to visit a small rocky valley to the south.” Zuhura quickly regained her normal temperament. “It contains many of the spice plants that are vital for the Nomad’s survival. The ground seeds are used to create the spices, the dried flesh of the fruits are used to create colourings for cloth. They are extremely important to us.”

“Is that one of the places that Bedes found?” Sheso asked. “Where he fell sick?”

“Somewhat. But there shouldn’t be any poisonous air there, especially if the Elders are talking about it the way they are.”

“I’m quite interested in seeing these plants, if they’re willing to let us.” Anton said. “I know that Verona would be delighted to have some fresh spices.”

“That woman thinks only with her stomach.” Cetina rolled her eye and smirked. “Anything for food...It’s gotten a little better since...No-”

“No it hasn’t.” Anton smiled back. “But would Temur allow us to come with them?”

“I don’t see why he shouldn’t.” Zuhura faintly smiled. “You’ve done a great many things for the tribe. There is certainly no reason why they shouldn’t.”

“I…” Calo shook her head as she looked at Zuhura.

“You have to do what you have to survive.” Anton said softly. “Don’t think too hard on it.”

Calo nodded. Sheso still looked a little lost and confused.

“Do you know how to ride Camels?” Zuhura asked.

“We ride horses all the time.” Cetina replied. “They’ll be no different.”

Zuhura smiled, a wicked smile that seemed so at odds with her normal demeanour. “This...This will be interesting.”

---[]---

“Fucking hell.” Cetina yelled. “Why won’t you go straight?!”

The Nomad Riders laughed as Cetina struggled to regain control of the stubborn Camel. A Nomad reached over and pulled the reins back extremely hard. The Camel protested, lurching back and forth, but finally obeying Cetina’s orders.

“Thanks.” Cetina shook her head. “They are nothing like horses.”

The Nomad laughed and re-joined their small column. Anton glanced back as Cetina followed, still grumbling that her Camel was not as loyal as her normal horse. The Nomad caravan continued towards their destination behind them, a distant snake trailing through the sand. Apparently it wasn’t worth bringing the entire tribe with them so only a smaller group would head towards the Spice Plants. Anton could not see their destination in the endless rolling hills of sand but the Nomads were moving with purpose. Mezot sat behind Anton, holding tight to his waist as Axia held Mezot’s. Calo and Sheso rode a younger Camel, somehow they were not having the issues Cetina was, and Zuhura rode with another Nomad. She did not hold onto him in any way, much to the rider’s immense disappointment.

Anton watched the skies for any sign of attackers. After his vague brush with the Dragons over the Wood Elf territory he was becoming rather paranoid about an attack from above, especially in the endless blue expanse. It wouldn’t matter if it was a simple beast, he could not defend against something he didn’t know was coming. Thankfully the beasts of the Frindal deserts were not attacking.

They’ve probably gorged themselves on the Sana Vākara corpses. There was more than enough for the smaller beasts...Still doesn’t mean a bigger one isn’t lurking around, waiting for us to lower our guard.

Anton again looked to the nearby dunes. Nothing had disturbed the sands in some time so there wasn’t anything in the immediate vicinity. At least nothing that had moved recently.

A Nomad whistled loudly, standing at the top of a dune some distance away.

“It’s just a bit further.” Another Nomad said loudly. “You’ll see it easily then.”

When Anton reached the crest of the dune he was thoroughly surprised by what lay beyond. A large circle of raised stone surrounded a field of red and yellow. It took him a few moments to realise they were flowers, yellow flowers and small red fruits no larger than a blueberry. Insects buzzed between the flowers while small birds darted about, feasting on the seemingly limitless swarms. Somehow it all stood defiant against the encroaching sand. A tiny glimmer of vibrant life in the endless expanse of sand.

“These fields are huge!” Anton looked to the Nomads with him. “How big is this place? How many plants are there?”

The Nomad shrugged as he leant forward on his Camel. The Camel grunted as its lips curled up, ready to spit but the man quickly and wisely backed away.

“I...Don’t know. We don’t count them.”

The Nomad led them towards the base of the raised stone circle. A rough pathway had been carved into the stone which the Camels took with only some slight encouragement. Cetina swore under her breath to get hers to move. If anything it appeared to be finding joy in the annoyance it was causing.

A soft perfumed scent washed over them once they reached the top. When the gentle wind turned just a fraction away it disappeared.

The Nomads began to dismount so Anton did as well. He hopped down first, his dragonoid claws protested in pain as he landed on the hard surface, before helping Mezot and Axia down. Axia and Mezot acted like their talk never happened. Then again it probably wasn’t serious, just a confirmation of what was happening. Cetina grumbled as she accepted Anton’s hand. She glared at her Camel. The feeling was mutual.

“I much prefer horses.” Cetin stated adamantly. “I can’t wait to be in a place where I don’t need to ride one of these.”

“We’ll make this our only foray in acquiring some of the spice plants.” Anton smiled as he turned to the Nomads. “So how many plants are there in this...little oasis?”

“Never bothered to count them.” The Nomad reached into a pack on the Camel’s side and drew a large cluster of orange leaves. The Camel lips curled up while its head bobbed from side to side. He waited until it calmed and began to feed it one leaf at a time. “Sometimes there are more, sometimes less.”

“Since you aren’t here often I don’t think…No. You still should have a rough idea how much you can get from this place.” Anton saw Zuhura dismount her Camel without waiting for the Nomad to assist her. Those nearby chuckled softly as the Nomad looked on despondently. “It’s important to have accurate record keeping. Even if you’re just one of many Nomad Tribes travelling these lands.”

The Nomad shrugged. “We don’t harvest everything.”

Several of the men produced large hessian bags and sharp metal knives. They gently stepped into the circle and began harvesting the flowers and fruits. Anton was a little surprised they didn’t take everything in sight. Only one in five plants were harvested, and even then they didn’t strip it bare.

“Not everything?” Sheso asked. “Surely you need a lot.”

“One of the Tribes took all of them.” The first Nomad stood at the edge of the stone while directing the younger Nomads to follow their elders. “It was a disaster. The plants quickly began to dwindle, so they realised what was happening and stopped it.”

He smiled at Anton. “They tried to blame other tribes but that didn’t work.”

“No?” Calo asked, Axia slowly nodded.

“They were the only one near their plants, so everyone told them it was their fault.” The Nomad shrugged but retained his smile. “They quickly became very quiet.”

“Overharvesting is a serious issue.” Anton said softly. “But why can you not grow these somewhere that’s not here.”

He gestured vaguely to the endless desert dunes. “Sure the coastal Frindals have been out here. If I were them I would have taken some seeds and plants and tried to grow it in a better place than this.”

The Nomad frowned at him.

“I know it would cut an extreme amount of money from the Nomad Tribes, I’m just saying that’s what should have happened.”

“I think they have tried it.” The Nomad shrugged again. He turned to the Camels, still eating the orange leaves. “But it didn’t work.”

Of course they would have. But, just maybe, the Nomad Tribes threatened war if they ever did. If Hazm had to try and arrange a peace deal because of one Tribe...And I don’t know how many there are out here.

“Can we get closer?” Axia asked. “They smell wonderful.”

The Nomad shrugged. Anton smiled and ushered them forward. As the girls drew closer to the plants, Zuhura and Cetina remained by his side, a slight tremor in a distant dune caught his eye. He silently alerted the nearby Nomad who immediately grew very concerned.

"There's something moving towards us." Cetina said softly. "Whatever it is, it's using the sand as cover."

"More Sun Walkers?" Zuhura asked softly. A hand reached for her hip, where Anton presumed his gifted dagger lay.

"No." The Nomad whistled loudly and waved everyone back. "But I don't know if Lychas are better or worse."

Mezot and Axia were the first to return. Both held their staff's tight and began to remove the cloth covering their Charm. Cetina moved between them and pointed at the source of the disturbance.

“I see it.” Axia tapped her staff. “Can I do it this time? I know some fire magic, more than just Fireball.”

“We don’t know if they’re coming here just yet.” Anton said. “They-”

“Oh they’re coming here.” The Nomad breathed a little easier once the others had left the spice fields. “They can smell the Camels. They love their flesh.”

The Camels were very anxious, grouping together and stamping their feet nervously.

“Do we run or stay here?” Cetina asked.

“We have to wait.” The Nomad stopped one younger Nomad who was trying to mount his Camel. “They’re much faster than us. And if they find the main caravan then they’ll draw even more Lychas to them. It’s best to just wait and let them lose interest.” He nodded the direction they came. “They’ll guess what’s happened to us.”

Cetina moved next to Anton and leant close to his ear. “I have the portal stones. If things are looking bad.”

Anton gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I shall keep that in mind. But I don’t think we’ll be running away just yet.”

The Lychas moved silently underneath the sand, only the raised hill and valley that followed let anyone know of their presence. As they neared the stone circle they abruptly stopped and began to fan out around the stone.

“This stone isn’t sitting on all of this sand.” Anton mused. He almost cracked a smile. “Ever thought of getting rid of it all?”

The Nomad’s ignored his words and focused on the approaching lines of sand. Weapons were drawn, iron blades with light bone handles, and pointed at the sand humps. Suddenly the humps stopped.

“Are they about to attack?” Axia asked. Calo and Sheso drew their weapons and stood back to back, they worked best in a team but Anton had the sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be enough against the Lychas. “It takes us a little bit to use our magic.”

“Just...Get ready.” The Nomad picked up a loose rock. “Let’s see if they’re going to be pricks or not.”

He tossed the rock onto the nearest sand hump. It landed with a disappointing thud and sunk slightly. Axia was about to speak when large gold and brown tipped claws erupted around the stone, grabbed it so tight the stone broke and dragged it underneath the sands.

“Oh shit!” Axia grabbed Anton’s hand. “Was that going to be us?”

Anton nodded. “Much worse I think. Just wait until it realises-”

The sand burst out in a mighty explosion, blinding everyone temporarily. Axia hid behind Anton, so too did Mezot, as the dust settled. A giant scorpion stood where the sand hump once lay. Despite being only a little larger than a dog it was a frightening sight to see its giant pincers and stinger slowly waving back and forth. Apart from a thin layer of thick hairs along its body it looked like an ordinary scorpion, albeit massive.

“Big fucker too.” The Nomad’s kept their weapons levelled at the Lychas. “Probably a female looking for meat for her babies.”

“To feed or so she can lay eggs?” Anton asked.

“Both. Both...They’d love that much flesh.” He pointed to the other still mounts of disturbed sand. “They’re probably males. Only one female and there’s usually four or five males that hang around her.”

Verona would be saying something right now…

“So if we kill her they’ll go away?” Axia readied her staff and Charm. Axia smiled at Anton, though she kept an eye towards the Lychas. "I've got to show off some of my magic too. Can't let mother have all the fun."

Calo and Sheso looked at their blades and sighed. They hadn't really had a chance to show how they improved. Anton would honestly prefer them to stay safe. He was growing fond of their banter.

"Umm. It could work." The Nomad did not look entirely convinced. "Or the males could go crazy and attack us up here."

"Why aren't they attacking us?" Anton asked. "Can they not climb a slight slope?"

"They can't climb these rocks. Never have." The Nomad nodded back to the fields of spice plants. "So they're more than just a source of them."

Is it the smell? Insects do have a sense of smell, all those hairs might just be acting up. Is it repulsive to them?

Anton cut a fruit and flower stem from the spice plant and tossed it at the Lychas. It struck its head, just past its cluster of small black eyes and rolled onto the sand. It made no movement, not even a leg to see if it was still moving.

"I suppose that answers that question." Anton said softly. "Alright Axia. Show us what a Principle Fire Mage is all about."

Axia grinned, closed her eyes and began to chant. Just like her mother she spoke very softly, almost a whisper and extremely fast. During the first and only lesson Anton had attended Axia was one of the few students who did not need to speak aloud.

"Fire Needle!"

The red gemstones glowed bright before a dart of fire shot out straight towards the Lychas. It cut straight through its head and hit the sand behind, throwing up a small plume of burning sand and setting fire to the hairs covering the Lychas body.

"Nicely done." Anton said.

The Lychas twitched once. Its legs splayed out before crashing to the ground. The other sand humps moved closer. Two Lychas heads stuck out and looked at the dead female. Several tense seconds passed before they retreated beneath the sand and slowly began to disperse.

"Fire Needle?" Anton asked. "Seems very strong. Is it a beginner or an intermediate spell?"

Axia slowly flexed her hand, her eyes staring at her fingers. "That took so much of my mana. I mean, I knew it would, but never so much at once."

"How did you know that spell?" Mezot asked angrily. "That's a lower intermediate fire spell. I thought you weren't up to that level yet."

"I..." Axia looked away. "I shouldn't be. But when you were stuck in the Library, sometimes I would read the books on Fire Magic. I even brought a few back..." Axia smiled faintly. "But this was the summer before we met Anton, so...I'm not surprised you didn't see me."

"I..." Mezot held her daughter's hand. "I'm sorry."

Axia laughed. "It's okay. That was before. And this is now."

"But was that your first time using that magic?" Anton asked. "Isn't that kind of dangerous?"

"Not really." Axia shrugged. "It's not too different to a Fire Ball. Uses a lot more mana though." She lowered the staff and held the Charm at eye level. "Unlike...Oh. Right. I forgot, you can't use Principle Magic."

"Unfortunately not. But when we regroup with the rest of the Tribe I want you and Mezot to continue to teach me about it. We have some spare time so I think we should use it constructively."

Cetina opened her mouth to speak but shut it immediately after, she didn't explain herself either.

"Before you do that can we finish the harvest?" The Nomad motioned to the others, their weapons were hidden and their cutting knives ready. "Though we don't have the Lychas to worry about we still have to get this done. Otherwise there's going to be a lot of angry women in the tribe, saying they can't get their work done."

"Of course. I also want to have a little bit of a look at this rock formation." Mezot and Axia perked up at his words. "See if there's anything magical going on with it."

"Or if it really is just a piece of rock." Cetina offered.

Anton smiled. "Only one way to be sure."

---[]---

"Lychas tend not to move so aggressively." Temur said softly. His room in the Sled was quite large but filled with many items and devices, many of which Anton had neither seem before or could fathom their purpose.

"I'm sorry we could not determine what keeps them away." Mezot bowed her head towards Anton. "I thought we might have been able to discover something..."

"There was absolutely nothing." Axia folded her arms in a huff. "Nothing unusual about the rock."

Temur smiled. "That's quite alright. If it is still a mystery to our Mage guests then it might just be something that we'll never know."

Nothing is unknowable. But if I say it like that I'll just come across as a massive turd.

"The spices?" Anton looked around his shoulder to Bedes. He and his minders were busy sorting through the flowers and fruits, separating them by quality.

"They will be dried and ground up to create the dyes we need." Temur smiled. "Thank you for not letting our people die. They are some of our best and most knowledgeable gatherers. We are thankful for your help yet again."

"That's perfectly fine." Anton smiled. "You're helping us reach the Ferals, without you we would be lost in the desert. I'm certain Zuhura would have told us otherwise."

Zuhura raised a black brow but said nothing.

Temur's smile changed to a slight frown. "I must admit that I was surprised when you, a Graterian, said you wished to meet the Feral Beastkin. And since..." Temur shrugged. "I thought you were, what are they called? Archaeologists? Yes. I believe that's right."

Temur began to nibble on a large nut. "Especially since you wanted to head east. I thought it was a ruse...For some reason."

Our intentions aren't entirely honest.

"Why do you think that?" Anton asked. "I know the Ferals, and the Lamia's in particular, are quite ferocious, but..."

Temur shrugged. "I honestly thought you wanted to see The Mesa. We've had a few foreigners come through here, over the past few winters, to investigate it. Even a group of Wood Elves. If the other Tribes are to be believed."

"Wood Elves?" Calo muttered. She and her sister shared a worried glance. "When? When did that happen?"

"About...Forty winters ago. I think-"

"That's before I was born!" Bedes said loudly.

He seemed rather proud of his accomplishment, his minders quietly tried to calm him and make him focus on the task before him. He was not to be swayed, instead his expression turned wistful, almost longing.

"I would have liked to have seen one. Dad? Do you think long ears would help someone hear better?" Bedes cupped his ears. "Everything's a lot louder now. It would be great...Maybe not." Bedes smiled. "Then everyone can hear me mumbling under my breath."

"Please focus." One of Bedes minders tapped on the floor. "They are having an important discussion and we should not interrupt."

"Okay." Bedes mumbled. He quickly resigned himself to sorting the plants. After a few seconds he acted like he had never spoken.

"I thought all of the Feral Beastkin lived to the east of the deserts?"

Temur nodded. "They do. But the people that lived on The Mesa were not Humans or Beastkin. They were Desert Elves."

"D-What?" Sheso spluttered. "Desert Elves? I-I've never heard of them before."

Temur shrugged. "They kept to themselves. And they liked it that way. Sure, they liked to trade and chat but that was it."

Temur's gaze fell upon Anton. Anton listened but barely heard his words.

It does actually ring a bell. When did I hear...When I first arrived in Atros, before we had defeated the Goblins of Mount Aspire. I spoke to Bertram about other races and they came up. Wood Elves, Dark Elves, Fire Elves destroyed by Nithroel and the Desert Elves. But that was the last time I'd heard of them. Guess their isolation worked. No one has ever spoken of them since.

"Tell me about them." Anton searched behind him for a place to seat. "You have my full attention."

While Anton faced away he signalled Calo and Sheso to remain quiet, not because he didn't want their input but something might give away their race. Only Zuhura knew of their true identity.

"There's not really much for me to say." Temur rubbed his legs. "They looked like humans, with high cheekbones and a refined face...Their skin was..." Temur pointed to Cetina. "A little darker than yours and they had brown hair. Yes. Definitely brown hair. They were excellent trackers and archers, like I've heard all of the Elves are."

"And..."

"They lived for a long time." Temur shrugged. "Three generations before my grandfather always spoke to the same Desert Elf, and he never aged."

"So how come they're gone?" Anton asked. "A plague, or a disease like your son had?"

"That's the question. We just don't know." Temur rose up. "The Mesa isn't far from our current destination. If you wish, and since you're already investigating so many things along the route, we could make a detour."

"For supplies?" Cetina asked. "If they lived out here, and not on the move, they must have had a source of water."

"Perhaps that is what killed them." Zuhura quietly offered. "A polluted water supply could quickly destroy a city."

Temur shrugged. "We don't know. No one ever goes there anymore."

---[]---

The Mesa, as it was unimaginatively dubbed, loomed like a great mountain amongst the rolling dunes. In a sense it was, The Mesa was merely a flat topped mountain. However none of the nearby mountains looked remotely similar. Strangely a light smattering of clouds hanged over The Mesa, wispy Cirrus clouds far too low for it to normally exist. Anton was no longer surprised by seeing such anomalous behaviour in this world compared to Earth. However things did not happen without reason, or in most cases magical intervention. Anton’s thoughts were not halted by a nervous tapping to his side. Calo and Sheso looked towards the looming Mesa, both looked more nervous and apprehensive than he had ever seen them.

"How come I've never heard of these Desert Elves?" Calo asked aloud. They stood at the very top of Temur's Sled, away from curious ears.

"Probably the same reason why I, despite my fascination with the Beastkin, have never heard of these Feral's until very recently." Anton shrugged. "Because no one asked. And it sounds like they've been gone long before you were born."

Since Dark Elves only live for about one hundred and fifty years, unlike the hundreds of thousands of years of the Wood Elves. I wonder if that ever gets boring for them.

Anton turned to Mezot and Axia, their heads close together as they looked towards The Mesa. "Can you feel any magic coming from there?"

"It is a little hard to properly tell at this distance." Mezot softly replied. "But I do not believe there is anything on that mountain. All cities have some line of smoke, even if it's from cooking. And there is nothing..."

Cetina raised a brown and nudged Anton's side. "She's learnt a thing or two since we met her."

"Are you worried you'll be replaced by a fastidious Graterian?" Anton asked slyly.

Cetina scoffed. "No way. But...There isn't anything moving up there at all. Not a sign of life.”

The edge of The Mesa obscured anything on top, the Desert Elf city was clearly not multi-storied, except for a small fence surrounding the entire edge.

“Let’s get moving then.” Anton tapped the wooden railing. “Cetina, do you want to ride with me this time? At least you won’t have a difficult Camel to ride.”

Cetina laughed but did not reply.

Zuhura coughed lightly. “It would be best if we had Temur’s support, both in name and manpower. I have asked the few Nomads I could and they are quite nervous to approach The Mesa. If we do it ourselves we could become outcasts...In a sort.” Zuhura smiled. “After your help and healing of the sick I’m sure they would let it go. But I do not think we should be too hasty.”

“Good thought.” Anton looked along the outer surface of The Mesa. He could just make out a winding path up the brown surface, zig zagging right to the top. “I wonder if there’s anything really to find after decades. We aren’t just going to find one wandering the ruins, now are we?”

---[]---

Anton did not know what to think when they reached the top of The Mesa. The idea of the disappearance of an entire species did not fill him with much joy, far less so when he saw what remained of the Desert Elves civilisation. Stone and wooden buildings lay in ruins, not from combat but simple neglect and the passage of time. At one stage the centre of the large town held many multi story buildings stood proud, now nothing more than piles of rubble and dry rotted wood, just like the rest of the sprawling and tightly packed city. Small lizards and insects scurried between the ruins, disturbed by their presence.

"What happened here?" Anton asked softly.

Temur simply shook his head. "I don't know. But my Grandfather knew them. Knew them very well. But they just...disappeared. At first they thought they had moved. Ah, there's one."

For the briefest moment Anton thought he meant a Desert Elf, but he knew it would not be so.

Temur ushered the Nomad Warriors forward. They clutched their weapons tight, never moved more than a foot from their group and nervously eyed the buildings.

"Not even bandits use this place." Temur said softly. "Everyone we've ever captured says they're afraid of this place." Temur puffed out his chest. "I'm not afraid, but...But something about this place..."

A sharp whistling wind cut his courage short. The tight, winding ruined buildings funnelled the wind into strange patterns, creating a constant high pitched whine that grew to a crescendo at random intervals. Temur pointed to what he had originally spotted. A ruined well lay in the centre of a wider crossroads.

"We thought something had happened to their water supply, so they had to leave." Temur waited until they reached the edge, silently urging them not to get too close. "But there's lots of water. And it's perfectly fine."

"Not the same type of water that affected Bedes?" Cetina asked.

"No. That's what they first thought." Temur looked down again. "Polluted water and sickness. But Desert Lung doesn't kill you that quickly. My grandfather's tribe left here, only for a few days to trade to the west, and when they came back it was completely deserted. Another tribe arrived at the same time we did from the other direction. They had not seen anything, and they weren’t like bandits and they wouldn’t have the numbers to kill that many. It was all...very confusing."

Anton leant closer to the well. He could not hear anything but the air was cooler, more humid.

"You're right about the water." Anton stepped back and summoned a Small Lightning Crow. "Go down there and see if there are any bones."

"Bones?" Temur asked as the Small Lightning Crow darted down the well.

"The well is very deep." Zuhura said softly. "And likely goes into a cavern within The Mesa. It is likely the Desert Elves would not have a well that reached below the ground. Possibly...Possibly a spring forcing the water up. Nevertheless, a water cavern could hold hundreds of bodies before anyone would notice."

"And it would take time to decompose." Anton added. "Your grandfather probably took water before they started to rot...If it is a cavern there could be fish or other creatures, and they would love a huge free meal like that."

Anton continued to survey the ruins as he waited for the Lightning Crow to return. There wasn't much left. Anything fragile would have long since rotted or degraded in the harsh environment. A few small weeds tried to grow under overturned stones and bricks but even they were struggling.

"I can hear it coming back." Calo leant over the edge of the well, careful not to put any weight on the masonry. "Sounds like it's got something."

"That's not good." Axia mumbled.

She and Mezot remained together but far away from the well. Mezot took no notice of the proceedings, instead looking southward while frowning slightly.

"Hopefully it's an animal bone." Axia softly added.

The Lightning Crow emerged with a skull in its claws. Unfortunately for Axia it was a human skull, or at least a humanoid skull. As Anton took it he glanced at the twins.

Apart from their long ears there's almost nothing to differentiate them from a human. They could have an extra or be missing a bone or two but I have no idea, nor do I really want to find out.

"Did the Desert Elves have anything unique about them?" Anton asked. He ordered the Lightning Crow to search for more bones while he held the wet skull aloft. Thankfully it did not have any smell, apart from slightly stagnant water, as all of the flesh had long since rotted away. "Like small horns? Big teeth or something?"

"I've never met one myself." Temur said softly. "But I was told they looked like us, like any of the Elves really, just with tanned skin, unlike the Dark Elves and the Seocurians."

"No way to be certain but..." Anton stopped as he heard more flapping.

The Lightning Crow returned, this time with a large bundle of bones in its claws.

"Rib bones?" Anton wondered as Calo and Sheso took the bones. The Lightning Crow darted back into the well. "And this is all on the surface. I don't think the Crow can swim. Thankfully, we know someone who not only specialises in Ice magic but also dabbles quite heavily in Water magic."

Mezot, again, was not listening as she continued to look south. Anton approached, she did not notice him until he crept into her vision from below. She jumped back but quickly smiled.

"Sorry, Anton. I thought I felt something coming from the south." Mezot stepped towards the well. "Did you say you wanted water summons?"

"If you could. But only level one. It'll take too much out of you otherwise, and we need numbers, not strength."

Mezot gave a single nod, closed her eyes and began to chant. Axia took a large pile of rubble as her seat, resting her staff and Charm beside her.

"Have you advanced to the stage where you summon creatures?"

"Me?" Axia pointed to herself. "No. Not yet. Besides, my speciality is fire. And I don't think fire will be much use here."

A small disk of blue light emerged at Mezot's feet. Out of it a Water Sprite emerged, little more than a vaguely humanoid lump of water. Mezot closed her eyes and began chanting again.

"Thanks, by the way." Axia said softly. She beckoned him closer. "The moment I saw her this morning I knew something had happened." Axia's devilish smile emerged. "I was even more surprised when she told me."

Anton sat next to Axia. "I hope she didn't tell you everything."

"I'm sure she would have if I'd pushed her." Axia began to bounce her feet back and forth. "But if I knew everything then it'd be pretty weird."

"I bet."

"So what does that make us then?" Axia shuffled closer. "I'm the daughter of your...”

Anton rubbed his legs. "Without going too far into it I think it would make you my step-daughter. So...Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“Oh?” Axia jabbed his side and laughed. “What thoughts are going through your head? I’m not old enough to become someone’s...Not yet anyway. I’m still fourteen winters, fifteen at the beginning of spring.” She brought a knee up to her chin. “So you’re going to have to wait.”

“You...Are you sure that you and Verona don’t share some common ancestor?” Anton shook his head. “You two are more alike than I would like.”

Axia laughed. “It’s…” Slowly her face darkened and her shoulders dropped.

Anton didn’t ask why but hugged her from the side. Axia’s body shuddered as she looked down, she sniffled and wiped away a tear. Neither said anything, Cetina noticed something was happening and began walking towards them. Anton raised his hand and she stopped, a hand tapped on the pommel of her sword.

“I’m alright.” Axia smiled. “Thanks...Thanks for that.”

“You can come and talk to me whenever you want, regardless of what relation you are to me.”

Axia gave his arm a squeeze and rested her head onto his shoulder. “Thanks...Thanks.”

“When we’re done in Frindal.” Anton said softly. “I want you to try something, a creation of mine that I’m thinking of doing. Remember what Sultan Hazm said about the cold milk?”

“Yeah…”

“I have something far, far more interesting in mind.” Anton smiled. “Frozen ice-cream. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

“Is that why you wanted my mother?” Axia raised a brow and began to laugh. “So you could make something delicious to eat?”

“You’re definitely too much like Verona.” Anton gave her head another rough ruffle, to which they both smiled.

“Anton!” Mezot shouted towards them. “I’m ready.”

Five Water Sprites waited before Mezot, their small heads motionlessly pointing at her. Anton gave Axia’s head a final pat before joining Mezot. The Lightning Crow emerged with yet more bones, this time with some sort of leg bone.

“It’s hard to tell what it’s found but I think there’s a lot.” Anton looked at the emotionless Water Sprites. “It’ll be fastest if they act like some kind of conveyor, passing it to each other up the well rather than bringing it up individually.”

“I understand.”

Mezot knelt by the Water Sprites and issued her instructions. The Water Sprites gave no indication they understood, or even heard her, but they quickly moved into the well with one remaining near the top, with just its head above. Mezot stood up and looked to her daughter, still sitting on the pile of rubble. Zuhura approached Axia and began to speak with her, Axia perked up and smiled.

“Is everything okay?” Mezot asked softly, holding her staff close to her chest.

“Everything’s fine.” Anton smiled. “But don’t forget to talk with your daughter as often as you can. She really loves you, so don’t let us get in the way of that.”

Mezot nodded furiously. “I understand. Did...Did she say anything bad about us?”

“She did. But it looks like she’s been around Verona too much.” Anton leant around her shoulder as the Water Sprite as it lifted up the first set of bones, far more than his Small Lightning Crow. “Or maybe she was always like this?”

“I...Wouldn’t know.” Mezot’s shoulders dropped more than Axia’s.

“Then just talk to her.” Anton gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Even if it’s about nothing, she’ll appreciate it nonetheless. But do these creatures need your supervision?”

“They’ll continue collecting bones until I tell them otherwise.”

Mezot began to walk to her daughter. Axia raised her brow and welcomed her mother with a smile. Zuhura quietly backed away and left the mother and daughter to talk, though it would likely be Axia doing most of the talking.

Cetina and Zuhura moved to Anton’s side while Calo and Sheso relieved the Water Sprite of its bundle of bones. The moment it was the creature dived below the edge of the well and returned a few seconds later with even more.

“We could be here for a while.” Anton softly sighed. “Temur? Can we get some help to remove these? I get the feeling we’re about to find out what happened to the Desert Elves.”

---[]---

As the pile of bones grew larger and larger Anton’s heart continued to drop. After the two hundredth skull Mezot told him the Water Sprites still had more to go. Temur’s Nomad Warriors were growing more despondent and moving slower too. They were handling the remains of an entire species, with whom their grandparents had amicable relations and simply disappeared.

“Any way of knowing how they died?” Cetina asked.

She and Calo stood next to Anton, the rest of his companions had retreated to Axia’s rock, where she and Mezot watched the growing bone pile with worried faces.

“I haven’t really been looking at them too closely.” Anton softly replied. “Something about seeing so many from a dead race…”

Anton heard one of the Nomads let out a disgruntled moan as he casually dropped a fresh bundle of bones onto the pile.

“Do you think it’s weird that I’m becoming despondent seeing a pile of bones when I’ve killed…” Anton knelt by the loose bones. “Have you ever heard of a place called the Gravestone?”

Cetina and Calo looked at one another and shrugged.

“It’s a place in the northeast of Qaiviel.” Anton picked up some sort of leg bone. “I killed nearly five thousand Orcs and Clansmen with my fire magic. It was horrific, watching them burn, the sound and the smell, but somehow this is different.”

“Because it wasn’t you that did it?” Calo offered. “Those, I’m sure those Orcs and Clansmen were trying to kill you, so it’s easier. Like it is for us...Sort of.” Calo shrugged lightly. “But I don’t think these were killed in anger. It looks like they were dumped into the well to hide them.”

“No...No small skulls yet.” Anton stood up and held the leg bone close to his eyes. “So no children...Do you see this?”

Anton pointed to the end of the bone.

“Looks like someone poured acid on it.” Cetina tapped the end. “But-”

“Arthritis.” Anton tossed the bone back onto the pile. “All of the bones have it. Every one of these are the elderly, the very elderly.”

“But…” Calo scratched her neck.

Anton clicked his tongue. “If you were going to kidnap an entire city, this massive Mesa’s worth, would you take someone that can barely move? With a stooped back that can’t work?”

“No. I suppose not.” Calo looked to the skulls. “That’s why there aren’t any small skulls. No children...But what about the other wells? We’ve barely entered the city, and Temur’s warriors haven’t gone any further. They look like they want to run away.”

“I don’t blame them.” Anton looked to the ruined Desert Elf city. “I don’t want to go much further. Something is very wrong with this place. Speaking of, Mezot said she felt some mage to the south-”

He stopped when he realised Mezot was just beside him. She looked somewhat apprehensive, like she wanted to say something but was worried what he would say.

“The Water Sprites have almost finished.” Mezot looked to the well. “They’re under the water level now and have almost everything...But they’ve found something amongst the bones, but I can’t tell what. If I had a higher level summon it could tell me more.”

“Like its mental capacity is limited.” Anton mused. “Have them bring it up. You were saying there was something to the south? Something that you thought was odd?”

“Yes.” Mezot shook her head. “I’m worried we’re going to find more of those yellow Sun Walkers. But it’s different, far weaker. Axia can’t tell it’s there, until I showed her where it’s coming from.”

“Best get the odd thing first.” Anton said. “Is the source on the mesa itself or below?”

“Halfway down.” Mezot frowned. “I don’t understand how that’s possible.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Mezot gave a single nod as the Water Sprites began to emerge all at once. They carried the last of the bones, broken and shattered remains from the long fall, except the last Water Sprite carried something different. A rusted piece of metal, a long oval disk no larger than the palm of his hand. The Water Sprite gave it to Mezot. She held it only for a second before passing it to Anton. Despite spending potentially a hundred or so years completely submerged by water the metal disk was in surprisingly good condition. He scratched away the rusty surface, revealing a bright silvery metal beneath, with a bright blue and orange discolouration.

“Um…” Cetina pulled on Anton’s sleeve. “Doesn’t that look like the metal Ikel made?”

“Who?” Calo looked very lost.

Mezot leant close. “It does appear to match the description of the metal she developed. But why is it out here? The United Empire conquered the Frindal Emirate but that was thousands of winters ago.”

Anton had no real answer, nothing beyond wild speculation. He chanted a restoration prayer and the rust disappeared and the oval disk returned to its pristine state.

“The United Empire.” Anton clicked his tongue. “Why am I not surprised they’ve...But…”

The oval disk had the emblem of the United Empire in the centre, a vertical sword resting on a shield, but this was different. Four flaming wings lay behind the sword while the sword appeared more menacing and jagged. The shield itself remained relatively unchanged but four lines radiated from the centre to the edge.

“This is new.” Anton held the disk for everyone to see. “United Empire Special Forces? A splinter force? Definitely looks like them but someone had a bit more creativity with the design. Like they were bored."

"But they've been gone for hundreds upon hundreds of winters, even on our own continent. Is this a coincidence or..."

"Do you think some of the United Empire survived?" Anton rubbed his thumb over the engraving. "It's certainly possible. They ruled most of the known world and would have seen the collapse coming. Judging by those books on their armament they were not overthrown instantly. So it's entirely possible for them to have survived in some form. A contingency plan they drafted but never thought they would actually have to use..."

"So..." Calo looked to the piles of bones. "What does that mean for us?"

"For now? Not much. No one would believe us and they could just say this is a fabrication." Anton placed the disk in his pocket. "There's almost nothing we can do for the Desert Elves, except to keep our eyes peeled and see what happens."

"Still don't know why they came all this way." Calo looked over the mesa to the dunes beyond. "It's not like it's easy to get to. We're in the middle of the desert. If they wanted slaves it would be easier to raid the coast or buy from Seocuria."

Anton nodded. "Exactly. Exactly."

Temur slowly approached, not wanting to interject himself into a conversation. "Do we bury their bones?" He nodded to the pile. "I believe they buried their dead...And what about the other wells?"

"We'll bury these but leave the other wells alone." Anton nodded to the Nomad Warriors. "They don't look like they're taking this too well."

"Yes...I don't know what they were told about the Desert Elves At...But digging a hole isn't handling ancient bones."

The Nomad Warriors were pleased to be away from the bones, even if it was digging a hole.

“Temur?” Anton began. “I presume these ruins have already been picked clean? Not by your tribe, of course, but I doubt no one would dare to comb through these ruins.”

“We haven’t.” Temur folded his arms. “But I can’t say about the others. Why?”

“No real reason.” Anton said. “I don’t think there’s much for us to find. And…”

I could bring the White Ghlotsm and its horde here to pick through the rubble, but to what end? Nothing, other than a pile of rubble. Maybe another hundred year old artefact. Maybe I could find a dented coin? That would make several days effort worth it. Surely…

“We do have something. Perhaps.” Anton nodded to Mezot. “I believe that our Ice Mage has discovered something, something similar to the other day.”

“Sana Vākara?”

Immediately every Nomad Warrior dropped their tools and armed themselves, hunkering low and looking for assailants.

“No. Not that.” Anton tried to wave them down but it was a little hard when they were so on edge. “But something similar to the artefact.”

“What do you mean?” Temur asked Mezot.

Mezot gripped her staff and straightened her back. She had gained some confidence, though Anton had no idea what might have given her that.

“The source is very faint.” Mezot pointed to the south. “Extremely faint. But there is something and I would like to see what it is.”

“Certainly.” Temur waved over some Nomad Warriors. “They’ll help you, but I don’t think they’ll be of much help to you.”

Anton gave a polite smile as six warriors joined them. After a single glance from Cetina they remained several meters back, like the rest of the Nomads they did not seem to like the idea of women warriors. However they held any such complaints to their expression.

“Mezot? Can you please guide us?”

Mezot smiled and began to lead them through the ruined city, carefully avoiding the rubble of the buildings. Anton tried to study what little remained of the buildings but it was a difficult task at best. It was slightly depressing, to know he was walking through all that remained of a civilization, of an entire species. The metal disk felt oddly heavy in his pocket.

Mezot stopped when they neared the edge of the mesa. Here stood one of the few relatively intact pieces of the Desert Elves, even if it was nothing more than a thick stone wall. It was difficult to tell but Anton was sure there were once engravings in the stone, judging by the faint straight lines, such angles were nearly impossible in nature.

“It’s down there.” Mezot said. “Along the cliff face. That’s where it feels like it’s coming from.”

Anton was hesitant to approach the edge. He knew nothing about wind magic and had no intention of dying in such a foreign land. Sheso moved to the edge but Anton grabbed her and pulled her back, shaking his head when she looked confused at him.

“Don’t be so hesitant to fall off the edge.” Anton smiled.

“We…” Sheso glanced at the Nomad Warriors. “We’re not as clumsy as you, Anton. Calo and I are far more...Delicate.”

“Sure.” Anton approached the wall. He felt two women were sticking out their tongues at him.

He slowly approached the stone wall and looked over, he felt a hand gently hold the back of his shirt. Cetina smiled faintly when he glanced back.

“It’s near vertical cliffs here.” Anton mumbled. He tried to rock the stones back and forth but none budged. “So I don’t know how anything’s supposed...Hang on.”

“There is something?” Mezot asked. She coughed lightly. “I mean...I knew that.”

Anton chuckled. “I know. But there is something in the crevice. Something darker than the rock but I can’t tell what it is. You can’t see it from the ground below and only if you look right from this angle.”

“So what have you found?” Cetina’s grip tightened. “And can I pull you back up please? I don’t want to have to explain to everyone how you landed head first into the desert.”

“I’ll come back a bit.” Anton shuffled back slightly. “But it’s too risky to go down there on some sort of rope. Thankfully we have creatures that don’t worry about such things.”

Neither he nor Mezot had disbanded their summons, Anton’s Small Lightning Crow fluttered from building to building while Mezot’s five Water Sprites followed some meters behind. They looked like lost puppies, if puppies had no face and silently stared at them.

Mezot and Anton ordered their summons to retrieve the object. All six creatures moved down, the Lightning Crow flew around and down while the Water Sprites simply crawled down the rock. Anton smiled faintly at the sight of the Water Sprites maintaining their shape despite being horizontal. Unfortunately the two groups did not work in unison. His Lightning Crow squawked angrily as it was unable to perform the task, even though it was being done before it. It flew back up and perched on his shoulder. For the briefest moment it appeared to sulk before it resumed its normal emotionless state.

The five Water Sprites returned, carrying a black jagged slab of obsidian.

“That’s it.” Mezot lowered her Charm close to the piece of rock. “It’s not much but there is some magic coming from it.”

“Don’t touch it.” Cetina patted his shoulder. “For my sake.”

Anton agreed and kept his hands behind his back. The Water Sprites gently placed the stone on the ground.

It was clear the obsidian stone was originally from a much larger block. Several of the surfaces were perfectly flat and would have formed the corner of a large cube, if the device was still intact. Three green lines ran irregularly on the flat surfaces, there was too little to determine what pattern, if any, it was trying to make.

“Could you please turn it over?” Anton pointed to the underside. “I think those green lines continue through that stone.”

The Water Sprites followed Mezot’s instructions and raised the chunk. Two Water Sprites extended their arms, making them thin but didn’t appear to lose any of it strength nor was the creature struggling with the weight. Underneath the green lines did continue but began to contract, focusing towards a single point in the missing sections.

“Judging by the angle this thing was as big as I am.” Anton smiled. “What could something that large do?”

“Or what?” Axia said softly. “Someone brought it all this way and probably dropped it over the edge-”

“Or it fell.” Calo offered.

Axia raised her finger and paused for several seconds. “Or it could have fallen.”

“Would have been hard for them to throw it over the edge without damaging the wall.” Anton tapped the secured stones with his boot. “These might not move but it would have left a mark. More than just a mark, it would have pushed all of these over...Mezot? What are you doing?”

Mezot crouched before the obsidian chunk and whispered for the Water Sprites to fully turn it over. She stepped back and pointed to a swirl in the internal green lines. A small sphered glowed from deep within the dark shiny stone.

“That is what’s using magic. I don’t know what it is...Can we break it open?”

“Interfering with magical items hasn’t worked well for us.” Cetina said dryly.

“Do you know how to do this safely?” Anton asked. “Without it killing us?”

“I do.” Mezot almost scoffed. “But…”

“We’ll take it back home. Lock it somewhere underground. I’m sure we can have a vault for this. Is it actually doing anything?”

“No.” Mezot shook her head. “It’s absorbing Earth Mana and its just flowing out. Like it’s trying to put it somewhere but can’t.”

“A leaky tap?” Anton shrugged. “We’ll investigate this later.”

“We’ll send it underground.” Cetina offered. “That way it’s safe and away from prying eyes.”

“That would be excellent. Perhaps one day we can work out what it is and why it’s here.”

As Cetina began to assemble the portal Anton’s thoughts were still stuck on the fate of the Desert Elves, not surprising that they had just solved a mystery merely by looking down a well.

Some sort of United Empire remnant that’s survived all this time? But what are you doing here, raiding and kidnapping all of the Desert Elves? But only them....And this broken magical device...What mess are we about to stumble into?

Anton looked at the piles of bones.

Then again the Desert Elves have been gone for over a hundred years and no one’s seen anything of these United Empire remnants...Does that mean they’re getting closer to revealing themselves?

Anton kicked the dirt, frustrated that the eternal problem was rearing its ugly head in the desert as well; he had so many questions and no way to get any answers, no way to know if it was an imminent and dire threat or merely he was merely overthinking things. He looked again to the piles of skulls as the portal flashed a bright white.

This is anything but minor. I have the feeling that we’re going to meet these remnants before we’re done in this world. I just hope we’re ready for them if they can do this to an entire civilisation.

Anton helped Cetina lift the obsidian slab onto the portal, knowing that he would probably meet them, sooner rather than later.