They held up the baby, umbilical cord still attached to its belly. It was a boy. The midwife held up a knife and cut the cord, the baby screaming and breathing for the first time. And it sucked me in, light exploding from me as I became one with the newborn.

Over the course of three days, the landscape around them was become more and more devoid of greenery. From what Samos recalled by looking at captain Baernold’s maps on the Windweaver, they were steadily approaching the Calm Waste.

Where Ashana had been dry and dusty, the Calm Waste was ten times that. Endless dunes of sand, Baernold had told him, with water sources only every hundred something miles. Blazing heat during the day, shivering cold at night. It was not a friendly place.

Their first destination, Pelizar, was the last real city before the sand began. Technically it was part of the Masenis kingdom, but as Teiran had told them it had become more or less under the control of the Nakin. The king did not care for the city anymore, choosing Vorna as the unofficial border of his rule.

Samos looked ahead at Teiran. He didn’t know what to think of the man. At times he acted like an old friend, laughing and talking with them whilst they were resting and eating. On other moments he was as stern as men could get, dodging their questions and ignoring them.

And he was Dovra’Sha. He hadn’t explicitly told them, but Samos had seen enough in Vorna to know what Teiran was.

But if Teiran was strange, then Sia was a complete mystery. Besides the few words he had spoken during the initial escape, the man hadn’t uttered a single word with the four of them present nor had he shown his face. The only other oddity Samos had noticed about the man were his eyes. He had been staring at Samos and the others intently during the moments of respite, judging them silently from beneath his hood.

Ahead, Teiran rounded a hill and pulled on his reigns, halting his horse. They joined him shortly after and looked out over a small city. It had relatively low walls surrounding it in what Samos thought was a star-shaped pattern. Guard towers rose up some thirty feet on every corner off the walls.

If the walls were built in a structural way, the opposite had happened for the inner parts of the city. Low- and high-rise buildings were scattered all around with no regard for an efficient street plan. It was if anyone who entered the city and wanted a place to stay just picked a random spot and built whatever they deemed fit. There was one building that once had stood larger and grander than the rest of them, but somehow it had collapsed inwards, charred stone structures showing the last signs of what Samos thought used to be an estate or palace.

At the shoreline, ships of all sizes were docked at the small harbour. Dockworkers and sailors alike bustled through each other going about their business, not regard for one another’s safety when crossing each other on the narrow piers.

“Pelizar,” Teiran exclaimed as they gazed upon the chaotic looking collection of buildings before them. “The last bastion of northern civilization,” he scoffed. “You’ll do good to stay close to me, this is no place for Oderian’s like you who are used to the safety of your cities.”

He urged his horse forward and was followed by Sia. Can’t say I felt completely safe in Ters, Samos thought amused.

Eder, Yara and Faye rode up next to him. “So, what’s the plan?” Eder asked with an expecting look.

“Same as before,” Samos muttered. “Stay with them for now, keep an ear out for any news and act accordingly.”

They all nodded and soon found themselves riding downhill, following Teiran towards Pelizar. Looking at the walls before him and the gate set into it, Samos suddenly realized there were no roads leading away from the city. Sure, there was a small one leading to the outskirts of the harbour, but there was no indication of any connection to the north, to Vorna. The king had truly abandoned this place, letting it slip into the control of the Nakin and whoever was in charge here.

Approaching the opened gate, several carts and dockworkers making their way in and out of the city, Samos couldn’t help but notice there were barely any guards at all. Barely any at the gate, no more than three atop the walls and as far as he could see the towers were unmanned.

Teiran looked back and saw Samos staring around. A grin appeared on his face. “No one would be foolish enough to attack this city, Samos.” He told him. “History has taught hard lessons on what happens if you attempt to attack Nakin controlled territory.”

Sia gave a chuckle, the first sound he had made in days. Samos had no idea what Teiran was talking about.

“The Desolation of Masenis,” Faye said and Teiran nodded. “According to the histories, a trading caravan of the Nakin was attacked and slaughtered to the last man near the gates of Vorna. In retaliation, the Nakin gathered under one banner and invaded Masenis, raiding the kingdom all the way up to the border of the Triut Dreyn.”

“And we were never attacked again,” Teiran smiled. “Five hundred years and the fear is still there.”

He quieted as they rode through the gate and entered the city. Almost immediately they turned right, buildings constructed in the path of where the main roads normally went. Turning left and right every few feet, they guided their horses through the maze that was Pelizar. All around them, men and women in either full garbs or wearing nearly anything at all strutted around with a purposeful step. However long these people had been here, it had been long enough for them to memorize every single pathway, alley and corner the city had to offer. Above them, sheets and fabric of all colours and sizes were strung between the buildings, providing the streets with constant shelter from the sun.

The majority of the people had dark tan, similar to Teiran. They were people used to the constant heat from the sun. Their hair was either cut short or held up in a bun, allowing their skin to breath freely and most of them, Samos noticed, were as clean-shaven as Teiran had been.

He looked back and saw Yara gazing around nervously. She noticed him. “This city makes me nervous,” she said just loud enough so only he could hear. “These people give me strange looks, as if they’re expecting something from me.”

“You’re outlanders here,” Teiran spoke up. He had been listening in. “If it weren’t for Sia and me, you would have been jumped the moment you walked through the gates.” He grinned at that. “Maybe those swords of yours would have given them a second thought, but the ladies look like an easy snack to them.”

Yara cocked her eyebrow and stared daggers at Teiran, her anxiety disappearing in a flash. Try me, her face was saying.

Teiran only laughed and shook his head. “Just ignore them, they’re no threat to you.”

As long as I’m with you, the unspoken words lingered in the air. The plan had been to continue without the two and somehow find out what was going on, but if the locals were indeed that hostile towards strangers that could proof to be harder than initially considered.

“We’re here,” Teiran said suddenly as he motioned his horse to a stop and descended from the saddle. They stood in front of a normal looking building, slightly larger than the average. Teiran led his horse towards a stable that had been constructed adjacent to the house. Nearly larger than the building it belonged to, the stable showed enough space to accommodate at least twenty horses.

A stable boy took over Teiran’s reigns and one by one, the horses were guided into a pen, their saddles taken off and troughs filled with hay. Sia tossed a gold coin to the boy, who caught it nimbly mid-air and tapped his forehead with two fingers before scurrying off.

Teiran guided them into the house, were they were greeted by two others, a man and a woman, who were dressed in similar fashion and had a similar dark tan to their skin.

“I count four,” the woman spoke. “Where’s the fifth?”

Teiran held up his hands. “No fifth, Tifara.”

“Dead?”

“We don’t know, presumably not.”

“Presumably? How can you presumably not know if someone’s dead?”

He gave a deep sigh. Samos felt as if this wasn’t the first time he was being interrogated like that by this woman.

“Last time I saw him he was surrounded by about twenty men who I doubt had good intentions. But seeing as he’s Sooarom, my guess is that he’s alive.”

Tifara gave a surprised look.

“Sooarom?” Yara asked.

“You call it Son’Sha,” Tifara’s companion spoke from where he sat.

“And what about these four?” Tifara asked Teiran whilst pointing at the four of them.

“Soannin, all of them.” He answered and added Dovra’Sha quickly before the question came up.

“All of them?” She didn’t sound convinced.

Teiran nodded and the man who had been sitting stood up. “We’ll see soon enough,” he muttered and before any of them could react, he stretched out his arm and lines of power began to appear in the air. He launched them forward and Samos flinched, but just before the seal hit him, it disappeared.

“The three of them,” he said pointing at Samos, Yara and Faye, “are Sealers at the least. The other one is Gifted as well, I’m guessing Enhancer same as this one.” He nodded at Eder and Samos respectively. “That makes one confirmed Soannin, but I’ll take your word on it Teiran that all of them are.”

Tifara nodded satisfied. “That makes the next part a lot easier,” she smiled contently.

Eder finally let his frustration out. “And what is the next part? And as a matter of fact, who in Sevens are you lot anyway? What are we doing here? What’s going on?” It came close to shouting. Samos couldn’t blame him, the last couple of days had been a whirlpool of unexpected events.

Tifara gave him a sharp look. “We’re saving your life, that’s what we’re doing, boy.” Eder stepped back nervously as she approached him, finger pointed firmly at his chest where she started prodding him. “And we don’t even know why ourselves, we just do as ordered. The moment you manifested your Talents, you knew what kind of things you could get yourself into. I bet you lusted for adventure when you were younger, to be a hero to be told of for centuries to come. Well this is it. This is your adventure, so you better get used to it.”

She paused, her stern gaze lingering for a moment before her face relaxed. Eder simply stared at her, mouth agape.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “That was uncalled for. We’ve been waiting in this damned city for weeks now, it might just be getting to me.”

“That’s quite alright,” Eder whimpered, visibly shaken by the sudden burst of anger.

Tifara continued. “Concerning the next part, I can’t tell you where we’re going because I’m simply not allowed to talk about it. Had any of you turned out to have no Talents at all, the journey would have taken us a month easily. Instead, we can do it in a matter of two or three days.”

“Journey to where?” Faye asked and Tifara sighed rubbing her forehead

“Didn’t I just tell you I’m not allowed to talk about it?”

“But you’re taking us there anyway…”

“It’s not that simple,” the woman told her as if explaining something that was so painfully obvious a three year old would know it. “We will take you there, but that doesn’t mean you’re to know the way or the location. Trust me, you’ll understand once we get there.”

“When are we leaving?” Teiran inquired.

“Tomorrow morning,” she answered. “Enough time to give the horses the rest they need as well as the lot of you. Stay inside, venturing out into the city will only end badly especially at night. There are rooms upstairs, we’ve prepared some clothing which I now see was not a bad idea.”

Samos looked down and had to agree his clothes had not fared well during the journey. Were his trousers had once been dark-green, they were now brown and shrivelled from the heat. His friends looked none the better.

Lying in bed later that evening, Eder snoring softly at the other side of the room, Samos couldn’t help but think of his original purpose of traveling to Eresath. He hadn’t gotten a step closer to finding out who he was nor had he found a method to heal his memories.

And now he lay in some random house in the midst of Pelizar, a city on the edge of civilization as he knew it. His last thoughts before drifting away were of Yara, the daughter of an innkeeper who had wanted to find adventure and meaning to her life.

She had at least found one of the two.