Within the valley of Arqa was a lake called Arqa, a village called Arqa, a town called Arqa, and a hamlet called Arqa. The matter of which Arqa was the Arqa was hotly contested. Suggesting to the residents of one settlement that another was the true and not their own—and there could be but one—was a certain way to end up pilloried. This struck Rook as somewhat odd, considering no one knew what the word meant or where it came from, but he also understood what it was like to feel as if one had nothing in the world except a name.

“Can we call them Arqa #1, #2, and #3?” Aletheia said. “Just to make it easier for us?”

“They won’t like that,” Jason said.

“So?”

“So it’s your neck they wring, kid. Just keep it to yourself.”

“Which is which?” Rook said.

Aletheia glared at Jason, but looked to Rook more warmly. “The closest to the water is #1. #3 is farthest. Even Jason could figure out where two is supposed to go.”

“Beats me,” Jason said. He started off.

They chose for their first home the Arqa at the shores of the lake—Arqa #1. It was the largest of the three, the coolest, the best developed, and above all it sat in the shade of an enormous bleached-white pyramid. There the people were tanned and wore white robes. They siphoned water off the lake as irrigation for their pallid crops, fished in rafts fastened together from cactus skeletons, and did well for themselves in a place that desperately wanted to see them dead.

Rook admired that spirit. He intended to do just the same.

The first week was spent scouting out the land. They made camp in the pyramid’s shade. Jason asked around town for rumors. Aletheia and Astera explored the desert. Rook rested and played with Pyraz at first, then pursued Jason.

Somehow, it was all a haze to Rook, they found themselves at audience in a tent with a merchant who ferried silks between the Arqas. He and Jason spoke in Daromese while Rook looked thuggish. This was not what he’d anticipated when Jason joined their party.

“He says he needs protection to the False Village at the Feet of the Monument to Ba’al Melqart, then back again.”

“Is that Arqa #2 or—” Rook started, but with a glare from Jason he remembered. “How far? Ask him.”

Jason did, and translated the answer: “Twenty miles.”

“What does he need protection from?”

Another moment of translation. “Uhm. Hyenas.”

“Hyenas?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Rook said. “We need the money. But you’re the boss.”

“Great,” Jason said. He smoothed back his hair. Then, turning back to the merchant, agreed to the terms.

More mercenary work. It was a stopgap measure. When the coin purses ran empty, it was hard to find qualms with it. It was honest, at least, as far as these things went. They broke the news to the rest of the party.

“I don’t think we should go,” Aletheia said. “There must be something else.”

“Like hell,” Jason said. “Too late. Deal’s made.”

“Who made you the boss?” Aletheia said.

“What, and you are? Do you get a veto? You’re like twelve.”

“I’ve been around longer than you! How many monsters have you killed?”

Rook interposed himself. “We’re on the same side, everyone should stay calm. Smile, like me!” He looked at Aletheia and saw a glint of fear in her eyes. Then he remembered. The last work they took as mercenaries. Zydnus hadn’t survived. He kneeled down to her, a hand on her shoulder. Trying his best to seem confident and reassuring. “We’ll keep you safe. No matter what happens—so long as you stay by us.”

She took a deep breath. Glanced to Jason. He rolled his eyes, but she nodded.

In fact they were assailed, both on their ways to and from Arqa #2, by ‘hyenas.’ More chimeric desert creatures. These were dog-like lizards with forked tongues and serpentine fangs, thirsty for the blood of the beasts of burden the merchant used to transport his goods. Both times they were driven easily enough away. One week later they returned to Arqa #1 richer and more reputable than they left. Thus the cycle began anew.

Rent, rest, and recovery followed. For the first time since their take at the bugbear lair Rook felt like his party was a machine again, a business back in operation.

They overspent on Arqese Spicewine in celebration. That meant their payout didn’t last long.

“Okay,” Jason said. “We’ve got two serpents with a bounty on their heads, reports of ghouls in an old graveyard, sandspiders, some mausoleum a kid unearthed—plus I did some asking around about the pyramids. They’re ossuaries, built by the Birdmen who lived here before the Old Kingdom conquered the place. No one goes inside because they’re ‘haunted.’ If we do want to break and enter, we should be careful not to get caught.”

“The Daromese were never birdmen,” Aletheia said in a silence that ensued.

"Yeah they were. They put birds on everything."

“Their king had a bird on his seal.”

“Sounds like something a birdman would do to me,” Jason said.

“Is anyone paying for the ghouls?” Rook said.

“The alchemist here might want their brains.”

“That is unlikely,” Astera said. “But there may be other reagents we could gather from their corpses.”

“Ghouls are already corpses,” Aletheia said.

“Forget it. Just point us in the direction,” Jason said.

“I thought one take was all you needed,” Rook said.

“Well, one take before you dragged me to the ass end of nowhere. I can’t get to Pyrthos from here with fifteen drachmae in my pocket.”

“You’re just afraid to do it alone,” Aletheia said.

“I’m a translator. You’re damn right I’m afraid to do it alone.”

Rook jumped to his feet. They sat on the bristly carpet of his tiny rented room, a cool and pitch black dungeon lit with a single candle. He raised his goblet of Spicewine high. The compulsion to orate overcame him:

“Okay, let's toast. Come here! I promise to all of you that in this place, in due time, we will find our fortunes. I know we will. We did well in Rytus, and we’ll do twice as well again here. Then we’ll have the freedom to do whatever we want, go wherever we want—travel to Ganarajya, or across the sea to Skane—or stay at it on the road, and…well.” He glanced at the deep amber liquid in his hand. “There’s no one I’d rather be traveling with than the three of you.”

“No one?” Aletheia said.

He met her gaze. “No one worth the time of thought,” he lied. He tried to move on quickly, taking a deep sip from his goblet. “They’ll tell stories of us someday. About how we braved the wastes of Darom to come here to forge our legend. Just you wait. Arqa will do well by us.”

“Do a verse!”

“About Arqa?”

She nodded. Rook looked to his companions. Jason was drunk and disinterested, and Astera serious and stoic. Rook was also slightly drunk, but he thought hard for a moment, conjuring his wit:

“The dusty, sunny, desert scenes of Arqa Valley and its shore // Are just the places we must dwell, in rubble’s shade and pyr’mids four // For there we’ll make our legend known, and when our names join tales of yore // They’ll say hot Darom was where all our fortunes came to soar.”

Aletheia clapped. Jason reclined onto his back and belched. “There are six pyramids,” he said.

Rook ignored him. It wasn’t his best work, but for a poem conjured from the top of his head, he was satisfied. He took another sip, reclining. “If I’m wrong about this whole place, and all our fortunes collapse after our first foray into the ruins, I could forge a reputation just the same as a minstrel, don’t you think?”

“Only if you’re still alive,” Astera said.

“Don’t be so pessimistic. If I leave some verse behind, I might still make it even after I’m dead.” He smiled. “Now tomorrow, let’s go kill snakes and make a fortune, and deliver the brave people of Arqa #1 from serpentine oppression! It’s becoming something of a trend, but at least now we might get paid.”

With that he collapsed, too, and everything began in earnest.

The snakes were slain, the ghouls driven off, more ‘hyenas’ vanquished, additional merchants protected: such was the manner of their time in Arqa. Soon the timescale would have been measured not in days or weeks but months, but without the moon it was impossible to say for certain how much time passed. The only guarantee that one day wasn’t looping back into the beginning of the last was Aletheia—she grew taller by the ‘tide.’

She and Rook had grown out their hair over the last year. They were often mistaken for siblings now, which neither much minded. Jason acquired a dagger. Astera kept her Dwarven sword sharp and her skills with the bow in shape, and while the days became hotter she continued Aletheia’s instruction as an Elven huntress, a wilderlands ranger, like Astera was herself. Apparently it was unheard of for one of the immortals to teach a human the secrets of their arcane tradition, of the synthesis between bow and arrow and mana and the ways of the tracker, but there was no reason—aside from a lack of time to master the skills—a human magician couldn’t train after their fashion. It seemed the elf in their company had no apprehensions about breaking with her people’s traditions.

For his part, Rook liked to see Aletheia busy, and he was happy she had someone to instruct her in magic. He could teach her how to use a sword, but this outlet seemed more productive. It gave her a sense of tradition. Being part of something greater, older, than just herself. He knew how important that could be.

The days grew unbearably hot come what must have been high summer. The sandstone of the road melted the soles off boots. Bare skin would be scorched black in an instant. The natives didn’t seem to mind, but for the four outsiders it was unbearable. They carefully saved what they’d earned and spent as much time as possible in the cooled, dark interiors, going outside only to wade in the lake or fetch more food—or, sometimes, to hunt, which Astera did alone.

She was immune to the ravages of heat, much like the bitterness of cold.

Altogether those few months were not the stuff of legends. They occupied themselves with mercenary work, though they only fought monsters and animals. It was the adventurer’s equivalent to tradesmanship. Hard, unglamorous, often unexciting, but honest for what it was.

Rook yearned for something more daring. He needed more in his life than subsistence. That was not why he did what he did. He spoke of building fortunes and legends, and those things held some small appeal to him as they might any young man, but that was but a part he felt the need to play. The truth was so much more complicated.

Opportunity came with the rainy season. That one early storm was but a taste of what Darom, or at least Arqa Valley, could be like come monsoon. The rain fell non-stop for days. Trees revitalized from pale white to dim yellow and deep green. Cactus sprouted flowers. Animals came out in droves while the sun vacationed. The lake swelled. The air cooled almost supernaturally, although the relentless dry heat was replaced by mugginess and humidity. In this weather, so long as they were wary of floods, they could adventure.

“Sandspiders,” Jason said.

“Spiders?” Aletheia said.

They were at camp by the lake, some way off from town. The rain stopped but the clouds held. Dryness returned—and the breeze was cool. Rook never knew more beautiful weather.

“Everyone’s talking about them,” Jason continued. “A hyena hunter saw one burrowing into the mud north of the pyramid. He looked around; turns out there’s a buried entrance to a tomb or something nearby.”

“Full of spiders,” Astera said.

“Sandspiders.”

“What’s a sandspider?” Aletheia said.

“Ever seen a normal spider? Well, it’s like that, except the size of a bear. They live in sandbanks across Darom, and dunes. A bit like this one here. Like to target little kids especially. Girls I guess give off a kind of pheromone—”

“Do you always have to be a jerk?” she said.

He shrugged. “Makes life easier, you should try it.”

“I’ve seen them,” Astera said, “on trips around town. They’re large, and predatory.”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t joking about the ‘eating kids’ thing. It’s a big problem. People in Arqa are freaking out over the possibility of a clan living so near town.”

“We should clear them out,” Astera said.

“That’s why I brought it up. They’re just big bugs, right? How tough can they be?”

“What do you think, Rook?” Aletheia said.

Rook was still concentrated on the first word of the exchange. He averted his eyes. “Sounds too dangerous. We should find other work.”

“More dangerous than hunting giant snakes?” Jason said.

“They’re only animals,” Astera said. “Dangerous in the wild, but with preparation we can exterminate them from their lair.”

“It would help keep the town safe, right?” Aletheia said.

“There’s other work,” Rook said quickly.

“We can loot this tomb, or whatever it is, and hope to collect a reward. Any other work as good as that?” Jason said.

“What about the temple overlooking Arqa #2? The one from the Old Kingdom?” Rook said.

“Rumors say more ghouls, but no one gives a shit. The place is abandoned. This is closer to home anyway. What’s your problem?”

Rook took a deep breath. It was silly, but he didn’t want to say the words, so he had to come up with some other line instead. “You said yourself, didn’t you? The temples here are sacrosanct. We can’t loot them safely. It isn’t worth trespassing.”

“I didn't say that. I said the pyramids were haunted. Anyway, they'll forgive our trespass if we clear out a bunch of murderous spiders I think,” Jason said. “Besides, there are a lot of different ruins in this place. Judging by the story I heard, no one knew about this one until recently. My bet is it’s not so sacred.”

A moment of silence. Then Astera smiled in half-disbelief. “Are you afraid of spiders?”

Rook blanched. “Of course not.”

Aletheia studied his face. She came to her conclusion after mere seconds. “You are!” she said.

“Holy shit,” Jason said. “Is that it? So much for protector of the innocent, huh? Two bodies with sixteen legs and you’re out?”

“I’m not afraid of spiders!” Rook snapped. “I find them…upsetting.”

They all laughed at him. He smiled and laughed back, trying to seem magnanimous, but he was feeling frustrated. Rook wasn’t afraid of death, not even remotely, and he wasn’t worried about pain. But there was something about spiders in particular…when they were normal in size they could be skewered or stomped or evaded without a scene, under pain of death, but giant spiders…he shuddered.

It was an extremely irrational fear. A giant spider was no more terrifying than a giant snake, or a pack of hobgoblins, or Eris. He knew that—in theory. But when it came time to fight, his soul won out over his mind.

“Come on. Get over it. This is a good take,” Jason said. “You were the one who called me a coward.”

“That word never crossed my lips.”

“You were thinking it.”

“Yes, because it was true. And if you put me in an arena filled with a dozen sandspiders, I’d fight them. But we don’t have to fight them. We can go do other things. It’s hardly our job to solve every problem of Arqa #1, is it?”

“You would have said it was, before you knew that the problem was arachnid in variety,” Astera said.

She was right, so he didn’t have a retort. He resorted to a bluff. “So be it. If you think this is the call, see to it. I won’t join you. Pyraz and I will go to Arqa #2.”

Astera snorted. “You won’t leave us if we go.”

“Yes I will.”

“I bet you fifty drachmae you don’t,” Jason said.

“Fine, a good deal for me, easy bargain to live up to,” Rook said.

“All right. Have fun on the road, then. I think I know the way to this place.”

They all prepared ruin-delving kit and parted ways, Rook storming off in fury into the hills toward Arqa #2, the rest heading north past the pyramid. The frustrated raving of his inner monologue was so loud that it was almost audible, like he was talking to himself, and once he even stopped and called back toward them with a scream, “You’ll miss my blade when it’s gone!”

He was so angry that he even made it the first crossroads with Pyraz before turning back.