Junipor hated the smell of the desert, and the harsh sun made her ears twitch. Her skin tingled as a brush of warm air kissed her shoulders. She wasn’t made for the desert, or at least every nerve in her body recoiled at the thought of venturing there.

The Sacred Sands were an enigma to all of Pharine society. Since the days of the first founders, its sands were impossible to fully chart or navigate. A desert this far up north was unbelievable, until one came to the Isles of Fear. Situated on the north eastern shoreline of the isle, this small patch of land glistened from burning red sands. From the coast it expanded several miles west, only to stop short a mere mile from the town of Hitecross.

The sands didn’t seem to abide by any law of nature. The entire island was in the northern hemisphere, and cold even in the summer months. Yet this small patch of desert was always scorching hot.

The first founders landed on the shores of those sands, and spent weeks trying to navigate through them. Had they been human they certainly would’ve died, but Pharine’s are known for their constitution, especially in hostile terrain. Since the building of Hitecross, the Sacred Sands were avoided at all cost. The nearest port was to the north, and a road extended from it to the town around the desert.

Junipor ventured there once, a year ago when she had the gall to brave its dunes. She had hoped to prove her courage and earn a little prestige by doing so. Instead she learned quickly why it was avoided. After spending a couple hours exploring, Junipor became utterly lost. It wasn’t until night came that she could use the stars as a guide to find her way home.

And now here she was again, with others…

Junipor Reign had her arms crossed over her chest, her tail hanged loosely against her rear. Perky white ears pointed high at full alert, she wasn’t sure why she felt so alarmed but a general sense of unease consumed her. Junipor wore a padded leather vest over a thin grey tunic. Her arms were bare, theleggings she wore were thin cloth to help against the heat. At her waist was a knife, and a new weapon she had been working on in the forge. These weapons weren’t for anything that might prowl the desert sands, to which there were few, but for the asshole standing nearby.

Francesca pawed at the nape of her neck, the frisky little fennec rested peacefully over Junipor’s shoulders. It seemed like the sands didn’t bother her nearly as much, although Francesca scratched at her ears often.

Trixy stood at the head of the group, her hourglass figure betrayed her ferocious nature. The Aiverix warrior was clad in armor typical for her kind. The steel chest piece covered her torso from the neck to her stomach. Her shoulder pauldronsweighed heavily on her womanly frame. Chainmail wrapped around her waist, drapping down to her knees, underneath which was thin pantaloons.

Sly wore similar armor, wrapped over his shoulders was a fur maned hood and cowl. His beard was just as unkempt as his brown hair. Strapped to his side belt was a hatchet, while a larger axe clung to his back. Junipor couldn’t help but admire all the runes etched into the axe’s cold steel, whoever had forged it was a professional.

Dunsk was easily the odd man in the group. Junipor made sure to keep him well outside of arms reach, and always had an eye on him. Occasionally he would shoot her a passing glance, only to quickly shy away. Gauze and bandages wrapped around his face, and he spoke rarely through his shattered teeth. She could tell he was in enormous pain, but his warrior spirit kept his groaning to a minimal. His armor was mostly leather, his legs and arms were bare. He had elected to go without most of his armor plate in light of the scorching temperatures across the sands.

Compared to all three of them, Junipor looked like a typical villager, but she had no idea why the Aiverix were determined to wear any armor at all? She wondered what were they expecting to find?

“So Junipor,” Trixy looked out towards the desert plains. It was so eerie to be standing on the narrow edge where snow frosted fields bordered rich sand dunes. Junipor had long suspected the Sacred Sands were the product of some form of ancient magic, but didn’t care enough to find out. “What can you tell me about this place?” Trixy asked with a wagging tail.

Junipor sighed, “Nothing much, just a weird desert in the middle on no where.” She took a step forward, “I can promise you we’ll get lost within minutes. And likely have to navigate by starlight to get out. So I’m not sure why you want to come here.”

Dunsk grunted, as if in agreement. Junipor shot him a scowl.

Trixy could only grin as she planted a hand on her hip, her voice was muffled against the wind. “Don’t you think it’s strange for there to be a dessert here…of all places?”

Of course Junipor thought it odd, everyone did. There was an old legend that the Pharine’s originally came from a desert nation far to the west. If that were true, Junipor shared none of her ancestors promiscuity with such environments. The sand made her ears itch, she frequently had to reach out to pick at her scalp. She was far more comfortable in the frozen tundra’s than this wasteland.

“The Ember Yew clan has seen far worse,” Sly spoke for the first time since Junipor met the three of them in the tavern. His voice was so different than the others. It wasn’t rustic like Trixy’s or rough like Dunsk’s, but more regal and refined. The difference was so stark it surprised her.

Regardless, Junipor had no knowledge of the Ember Yew clan, or any clan of the Aiverix for that matter. “No idea what your talking about,” it was clear she was not impressed.

“You’ve never heard of the Ember Yew clan?” Once again Sly’s voice startled Junipor. For some reason, she found it mildly attractive.

“I’ve never heard about any clan,” Junipor responded with a stutter. She wondered just how old Sly was.

Sly planted a food onto the rich sands, breaching the thin line between worlds. He looked over to her with a smile.“The Ember Yew are famous! How haven’t you heard of us?”

Damnit get a hold of yourself! Junipor bit her lip, she couldn’t help but feel incredibly awkward around this grizzled, yet handsome, male. “If your so famous why come here?”

Trixy decided to answer that question. “Ok, I’ll level with you.”

“Hmm,” Junipor was hoping Sly would continue to explain things.

Somehow, Trixy seemed to notice Junipor’s apprehension. “Down girl, We’ve come all this way to find the heart of this desert.”

Heart of the desert? Junipor face was a mask of confusion. “What the literal hell are you talking about?”

“It’s obvious there’s something mystical about this place. According to the mages of Conexe, the kind of magic necessary to spawn a place like this would require a magical artifact. One of incredible power. Maybe even…a celestial object?” Trixy looked at Junipor as she spoke, then gazed back at the desert with excitement.

“Yeah,” Junipor stressed the word, “I doubt that.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” The words flowed from Trixy’s lips through the over saturated desert air. Her left hand never left the hilt of the iron mace attached to her belt. “Oh well, I’ll endeavor to prove you wrong.” It was then that the Aiverix chief noticed the peculiar weapon at Junipor’s side, “Interesting…I’ve never seen something like that before?”

Junipor subconsciously reached toward the handle of the firearm holstered to her belt. It was the first of its kind, something she had been designing in the forge for months. The original design was inspired from the use of black powder, a highly reactive and combustable substance made up of saltpeter, suffer, and charcoal. All of which was in abundance on Heightsland, and the isles of fear.

Getting the perfect mixture took time and patience; but once achieved, Junipor had devised a way to project small balls of lead at incredible velocities using the combustion force of lighting the black powder on fire. She had yet to name the small hand held weapon, but was immensely proud of her work. She had tested it against slabs of iron, and learned it could shoot leaded rounds easily through an Aiverix’s breastplate with ease. Junipor hadn’t shared her invention to anybody, not yet anyway.

“Its just a little something I’ve been working on. A girl can’t be too careful.” Junipor shot Trixy a glare while brushing her tail to the side. Francesca chirped on her shoulder as if in agreement.

Trixy shrugged, content for now to not press the subject. “Don’t forget, when were done here you get to go back to that lonely little tavern, and parade yourself as a hardened warrior.”

For the first time, Dunsk spoke through his broken teeth. “As if, no ones going to buy that she’s a hardened warrior.”

“Say another word, I dare you.” Junipor shot Dunsk a frightful look.

“Easy now, no need to fight,” Sly interjected as best he could. His words made the hairs between Junipor’s legs tingle, her throat suddenly felt dry.

For a moment the four of them didn’t say anything, but the tension was undeniable. Junipor seriously reconsidered her decision to join them. She felt her sole job was to read the stars at night for a way back, once they had gotten tired of stumbling in the sands. “Three days…” She looked at Trixy coldly for confirmation.

“Hmm?”

“After three days, if you don’t find whatever it is you’re looking for, I’ll lead you out. It’ll have to be by starlight but luckily I know all the signs.” Studying the constellations was a pastime for Pharine’s in Heightsland, where the nights were clear and its starlight serene. On some nights, one could look up to see the aurora’s dancing like angels wings over the stars.

Trixy paused as if thinking about the conditions of their deal. She brushed her hair back before accepting, “Sounds like a deal.”

Judging by her tone, Junipor could tell Trixy was reserved about staying for only three days. Why anyone would want to spend that much time here was beyond her. ‘Why do you care anyway, even if theres something magical out there why come all this way?” It took her a moment to realize she had spoken her thoughts out loud.

Trixy heard Junipor loud and clear, she turned around to face her gracefully. Her hands were on her hips, and her crooked tail wagged briskly from side to side. She had a fiery look in her eyes. “Well…for money of course.”