Part 1

“Now, wait a second-” I said, appearing and sounding visibly shocked at the sudden request of the man standing before me, sporting the cockiest and proud expression I had seen him doing since the start of our conversation “- I literally just mu-...killed four of your people, and now you propose we make a deal?”

“That is correct” He replied unblinkingly.

“What are you getting at?” I pushed further, raising my guard once more as I expected some trick or surprise attack.

“This may sound…strange to ya, so-called “civilized continent”, ya call it-” He responded, as he made a welcoming gesture with his arms open “- but we do things different here, in my kingdom. On MY sand!... Our fight was pointless to begin with. Ya were tricked and we were hasty. My people, mmhh… frown upon a pointless death. In our culture, it brings shame to the deceased who is thus sent into the Uncalled”

“So this deal-” I intervened, making an oversized gesture of lowering my guard “- is to get rid of that pointlessness, yeah? How do you plan to do that?”

“We gain something and ya gain something-” He cheerily said with an exaggerated laugh, before donning a mask of cold and threatening seriousness “- Or, we could fight to the death. Ya’re too dangerous to capture. Many of my men would die, but ya’d follow them right after. Then, the little miss ya’s protecting so firefly would be made a slave…bunch of freaks like ‘em young ‘round these parts. I’d say five whole gold coins to the right buyer and that’d be far from pointless, yes?... Ya choice, Mr. Raphael”

I took a second to gauge the situation. I was still surrounded, outnumbered one to thirty, at the very least, by men all armed and ready. If they feared death, they did not show it. A telltale of a dangerous warrior. The man in front of me didn’t seem to be a mage, and yet, mana seemed to coil around his arms and legs in sinuous patterns similar to circuits but not quite them.

My chances were nonexistent, I valued. There was the possibility that, with my death, Julie would run away and save herself. But for how long could she survive? Our chances out of the situation were slimmer than a spider’s thread.

“Alright-” I pronounced with a sigh, sheathing my sword in tow “- What’s this deal about?”

“Ah!-” Exclaimed the man with a satisfied grin, shaping his mouth in a half-moon “- Glad you asked! It’s simple really, ya’ll need to reach Blackwall safely, and I need information on Blackwall. I provide one and ya the other. Easy, no?”

“Information, uh. What kind are we talking about?”

“All kinds”

“And how long do we have?” I asked in a slightly worried tone, gauging, if just faintly, where the conversation was going.

“A week’s enough” He replied plainly.

“You are fucking with me, right?-” I incurred, feeling the anger rising more than it should have “- All kind of information. Number of soldiers, citizens, defenses, the lord and his habitudes, readiness of the guards, and so on so forth. And you expect me to gather and deliver all this information about a city I’m unfamiliar with, most likely speaking a language I don’t know, in a week?... Just say you want to kill me and enslave my sister and stop wasting each other’s time!”

“Well I am the one with the advantage in this “negotiation”, no?” He answered slyly.

“Then neither of us will get what we want” I replied, staring at him unblinkingly.

“...How long do ya need?” He finally asked taking a more authoritarian stance with both arms crossed over his chest and a stern look in his eyes.

“Four weeks?” I suggested.

“Ten days” He answered readily.

The haggle had begun.

“That hardly makes any difference! Three weeks!”

“Two is as high I can get, more than this and ya could find a boat to escape”

“Then, how about this-” I attempted with a last pitch “- sixteen days and you give us some coins, just enough to pay for a meal and the first night’s room. Our last coins were spent on the caravan. In return, I make a mana vow. How does that sound?”

“A mana vow ya say?-” The kind replied, a curious look in his eyes. Interested and invested is how he could be described. Even his voice seemed to mellow down to pair with his new mood “- So ya would bind to me until the job’s done, right? Quite the risky move, ain’t it?... I LOVE IT!-” He shouted with a guttural laugh “- Ya got real guts. A real man, so to say…Fine, sixteen days and twenty silver coins it is. Now, shall we seal this deal somewhere less…dusty?”

As he finished speaking, he instantly began barking orders to his men in his native language. Not all of them must have liked them since more than one displeased- if not outright hateful- expression seemed to be cast upon me. Nonetheless, no one complained.

Laboriously, each member of the crew began their task. Some carrying down a makeshift stretcher followed in tow by who seemed to be some sort of desert medic. Others set the sails, threw down more ladders, and tended to the deceased in a ritual similar to that of my continent. Said ritual consisted in burning the bodies in a pyre to prevent them from becoming undead. The only difference consisted in the fact that they did not bring the bodies back to their loved ones but rather took something from the dead as a memento. A ring for one, a lock of hair for the other, a bracelet filled with metal rings, and more. Only then were the bodies bathed in oil and set on fire. I moved farther away from the scene so as not to bother their mourning.

“So?-” Interrupted my train of thoughts the king “- Ya waiting for me to take ya hand or carry ya like a princess? Get ya’s ass on my ship and let’s get moving!”

Not having many other choices, I grabbed the now-blank and doll-faced Julie by the wrist and dragged her along with me and up the ladders, basically pushing her up as she scaled one. Finally, we were on deck.

Part 2

- JULIE BLUESCALE’S POV -

The ceiling was devoid of any particular detail. Exception made for the random spots of mold rotting the dark wood and a couple of nails sticking out. I had been looking at the ceiling for what felt like hours. My body felt heavy and without the faintest trace of energy. The long walks had taken their heavy toll, no doubt, but what really seemed to strike it cold were the very recent events.

For the first time in weeks, I was able to lay my body on a bed. Its sheets were damp and the wood kept creaking with every movement and yet still it was an improvement. However, I could not sleep. No matter how tired I was, how much I counted - as Raph taught me-, how heavy my body felt, or how groggy my own thoughts were. I just couldn’t sleep. My memories forbid me to.

I had already seen death. First the other town’s people, some adventurers…mom’s. When Raph found me I thought that everything was going to be okay, that life could turn back a month or so, even if he seemed different, changed. However, when he set off into the cannibal’s tunnels and came back full of provisions, weapons, and clothes, I understood. My brother had just killed. We couldn’t turn back. I couldn’t turn back. It scared me, really did, but I could feing blindness to it. I just had to follow Raph’s orders and I could just pretend everything else was fine.

I was wrong.

The moment I saw him jump onto his first victim and blood began spilling on the sand, he seemed a totally different person. He killed and killed, mercilessly and with deadly precision. I used to look at dad when he was training, and even before that, I sometimes snuck away from home with mom to silently watch the three boys’ training. It wasn’t my idea, of course, though I wholly approved of it as I enjoyed it immensely to look at them fight. It had always interested me, but no, it was mom who wanted to somehow share some more moments with each other. I found it funny, so much that I would shamelessly laugh at every possible occasion. Not that I knew what shame was. What I really found funny was how stiffly they moved, like marionettes on a show. When dad was teaching them, Raph and Lucas would struggle to make the various movements to perfection, and dad would reprimand them if they didn’t. Which in turn led them to focus almost completely on that one specific movement and forgetting everything else…footwork included.

That thought made me stifle a laugh, a spontaneous and childish giggle. But it didn’t last long as I compared that thought to the fighting style I had witnessed previously. All vestiges of careful movement and beauty were gone. In their stead, Raph fought with brutal focus on usefulness. Always going for the killing blow, always striking first.

[A hungry wolf…-] I thought to myself as I looked back on it [- A hungry, cornered, feral wolf…]

I was still shocked. Still couldn’t move. Everything was too overwhelming. The ship sailing on sand, the long days in the desert, my mom’s death, the days spent in that tiny cave, all the scorpions we encountered, the deal with a supposed king in the desert, the blood…all that blood. Spilling out of wounds, coating my brother’s clothes, staining the golden sand. The blood that he had spilled, the death that my brother caused. He had killed.

“..My brother is a murderer…” I sobbed sloppily between tears and sorrowful hiccups as I cried myself to sleep.

- RAPHAEL BLUESCALE’S POV -

Silence finally fell inside the room. No cries, no stifles, no desperate sobs, only the sporadic rustle of sheets. For hours she had done nothing but talk to herself, all mumbling nonsense from what little I could hear, but it was easy to understand what was going on inside her head. The scene from before must have shocked her deeply. Her reaction could be defined as normal as it could get.

Finally, as I leaned my ear on the door and heard nothing but her soft even through uneven breaths, I stood from my uncomfortable seat. My duty as a guard dog was finished for the time being so I began to move to where I was waited next. Yet a thought seemed to linger slyly as I looked back at the door.

[I’m sure she sees me as a monster now…-] My inner voice filled with as much sorrow as the idea of my sister hating me filled me with [- It doesn’t change a thing. I swore I’d protect her and I’ll be damned if I go back on my word! Even if she’ll become disgusted by the notion of my name, I’ll protect her!]

Forcibly stirring my mind from the image I had created of my sister crying, I cross through the tiny hallways of the immense ship, wood creaking with each step. It was hard, at first to keep my balance thanks to the incessant rocking and dune-climbing, but I was soon standing confidently in front of the captain chamber’s doors a the very back of the ship. Though I had to waste some time due to the intricacy of the design of the hallway.

“Come in, it’s open!-” Resounded loud the voice of Ali Salhab as soon as I knocked on the door “- No point keeping the door shut in this ship”

The sight of the room shocked me for a second. I had half expected even the captain’s room to be as utilitarian as the rest of the ship, but instead, it was chock full of elegant furnish, maps, weapons, and displays of all sorts. Not to mention what seemed to be a side room that most likely led to where the bed was.

The room was hexagonal, with the side facing the entrance almost fully covered by reddish stained glass. Wood of a very dark tone covered walls and ceiling, while the floor was a complete mess of an assortment of colorful carpets. Mana gem lamps were set around the room, filling it with light alongside a number of now-cold candles of variously colored waxes. A tiny door, hidden between two tall bookcases, led to a small balcony with a wooden railing just outside of the stained glass.

“So-” He started as he rose his head from a massive map laying on a thick wooden table with cravings of flowers all over it and feline paws for legs “- How’s the girl?”

“Asleep for now-” I replied coldly, in an attempt to stir the conversation away from that specific topic “- She was shocked, but I’m sure she’ll be fine”

“If ya say so-” He replied shrugging his shoulders before setting both his feet on the table and joining his hands behind his neck “- Now, shall we talk business? I’m sure ya want as much information as ya can before going forward with the vow, so here are the det-”

“I don’t care” I interrupted him quite rudely.

“Ya don’t?” He replied with a curious show of his golden fangs.

“Our “deal” is simple. I gather the information you seek and deliver them to you, in return you lead us to Blackwall, give us enough coins for a night and spare our lives. Whatever you do with the information I give you is none of my business and something I don’t want to be involved with”

“I see, I see…-” He answered scratching his chin “- I stay out of ya business and ya stay out of mine kinda thing, right? I can work with that! All right, all right, then let’s get moving!”

The vow then was performed smoothly, binding me to the duty of delivering the information I was tasked to seek. To prevent each other from abusing the vow, we decided to vow on me delivering information of a certain caliber and amount in sixteen days. Whether the delivered information were useful or not, after the sixteen days the vow would become null, freeing me from it.

Papers of previous pieces of information along with maps of all sorts of dates and focuses soon filled the table, covering whatever used to be under them. There were maps of the old layout of the streets and the new one, ones marked with key buildings and places to stray away from. The one spot that seemed to miss in each and every one of the maps was the lord’s residence. Making full use of these maps, Ali Salhab began instructing me on the city. Topics like what sells best, the kind of odd jobs that could be found, what were believed to be the best inns, the most common adventurer’s jobs, and so on so forth seemed to fill the hours like water in a bowl. By the time we both rose from our red-pillowed chairs, the night was fast upon us and stars were shining brightly onto the dark canvas.

“Shall we take a bit of a breather?” Ali Salhab asked while gesturing me the offer with a sideways nod of his head.

I stood as I followed his offer, not before reaching down the side of the chair to grab my nonexistent weapon. As my fingers grasped nothing but air, I realized the pointlessness of my mindless gesture. All my weapons were taken from me and stored away, with the promise of being returned upon arrival. I sighed at the feeling of vulnerability that being weaponless gave me and crossed the double doors opening to the stairs leading to the main deck.

“Fresh isn’t it?-” The king mused as he began rummaging in his pockets until he picked out a wooden pipe with a black stem and intricate gem-like designs in green. Ironically, he lit it up making full use of a nearby torch before walking again towards the prow “- The night’s air, I mean” He continued after a weighty puff of the pipe.

“Didn’t really have time to appreciate it as you do-” I replied, resting my back against the railing close to the very end of the prow, opposite of Ali Salhab “- You know, with the freezing cold and all”

“Mhh, yes…-” He spoke after another puff, releasing a little cloud of white smoke “- To us, the desert is our home, our blessing, but to ya…well, let’s just say the vultures eat good around these parts-” He snorted a chuckled suffocated only by the smoke of his pipe “-...Anyway, ya from the War Lands, uh. How come ya’re all the way out here? Ya don’t look either the merchant or the tourist, and an adventurer wouldn’t bring their sister with ‘em”

“I don’t see why I should tell you anything about me-” I replied skeptically followed by a purposefully loud scoff “- We are just business, remember?”

“Sure, sure-” He continued, facing away from me and making a show of wearing a very bored expression “- Then that means I don’t have to tell ya anything at all”

“So?” I asked skeptically.

“Oh, I’m sure ya’re veeeeeery curious about a whole bunch of things. Ya can’t lie to me, I’ve seen it in ya’s eyes. People always say that a mage’s curiosity knows no equals. So, do tell me, Mr. Raphael the beheading mage, do ya also feel this legendary curiosity?”

I hated how true his words were. No matter how much I tried to stir my thoughts away from the topic, it never seemed to leave my mind. How did the ship work? What were the columns? What was that strange mana surrounding him? All questions I couldn’t answer. I just wasn’t knowledgeable enough, and being unable to put those pieces together made me want to know even more.

“*Tch* Fine…Ask away”

“Nicee!-” Cheerfully chimed the man “- Then first…”

The king’s curiosity seemed to rival the one he spoke of as he hammered me with questions about my life experiences up until then. Most of his focus seemed to be pointed at the events in the labyrinth. Apparently, its existence was merely a rumor. An “I heard from a friend that heard from a friend that heard from a friend” kind of rumor, one that’s not wise to trust at face value. Nonetheless, it seemed to have reached even the desert.

At length, I recounted my experience. I spoke of the undead city, of the underground rivers, of the abandoned temple, the tunnels and the golems, the rooms hidden in the stone, and everything that followed. Not all was disclosed, though. Details like the Black Ogre, the skeleton, the torture, and the perilous state of my mind, were silently hidden. I neither wanted him to doubt my sanity and credibility nor give too much information. In great detail, though, I was asked to talk about the portals. He was fascinated by the notion of traveling between continents in the blink of an eye. To his displeasure, I could not answer his questions fully as not even I understood the process behind that magic other than the need for certain runes and a constant flow of mana.

His reaction to my mention of my landing spot, the broken and abandoned stone structure in the middle of the desert, seemed to bother him much. Particularly the word Sahfra. For minutes he pondered in silence, the only sound filling the gap between us being the incessant tapping of his heel on the wood railing. When asked, he explained that Sahfra was a word in his native language from before the fall of his ancestors’ kingdom. A word that he never heard spoken, only read in ancient tomes. Its meaning was, in rough translation, “terror dwelling” and in legends, it was mentioned as the “sands of Sahfra”. In those legends, the ancients spoke of those sands as a dangerous zone, the kind that very few came back from to tell the tale. They said it was drenched in blood and fires would start and expire as fast as a blink and as random as a lightning strike. Red beings with human voices, wings of a bat, and horns of a goat would relentlessly stalk those unfortunate or foolish enough to step onto those sands. No one ever was able to reach the heart of that corner of the desert.

Seemingly satisfied with his newfound knowledge, the king then began answering my questions. The first of which was regarding the ship, to which I was then correct to call by its proper name, a galleon. With just one question he actually answered two, the second of which was regarding the strange mana surrounding him.

The galleon itself had nothing special. It used to be a battleship belonging to the Belzans, used as an escort on trade routes until it made the mistake of sailing too close to the coast and was boarded by a lesser vessel belonging to Ali Salhab. The Blenzan crew was killed and the ship stolen. Thinking that it was pointless to use it on water, the king made full use of his gift. Ali Salhab wasn’t a mage, not in the way common and traditional way at least. He could use only one type of magic and nothing else. To him, it was sand. A characteristic that had been passed down in his family.

He could control sand at will, move it as if it was his hands and feet. He had no need to cast spells or recite mantras, nor to gather mana and apply it meticulously to his intent. It simply came to him as natural, like ordering a loyal dog. Using those orders, he would have the sand below the galleon roll so that the ship could move in all directions. To get rid of my skepticism he opened a pouch he carried tied behind his back and, with a cocky smile, showed how golden sand siphoned around his arm. The sand then formed into a sphere, a cube, and a blade before thrusting forward with blinking speed, stopping just a few centimeters away from my neck.

“I like that about ya-” He said as a devious, devilish smile complete of fangs and teeth slit his mouth in a half-moon “- death strikes a fire in ya, ain’t that right?”

Only when the blade of sand retracted into the pouch I realized the shift in my expression. Mana had already gathered into my palms, making its weight felt only when needed no more. But the most worrisome thing was how I had reacted to the blade. I was sure I felt no ill-intent or bloodlust so I neither moved nor answered…and yet, on my face was carved a sick smile. I could feel my cheeks curl, moved by the shift of facial muscles. For the first time ever since meeting the skeleton, I felt like something had truly broken inside me.

Sensing my sudden revulsion and shock, Ali Salhab rapidly changed the topic and answered my one other question. He explained how the columns were not landmarks for a road but rather a border. They were placed there by his father and his grandfather before him, and they were not simple columns either. He knew not how they truly worked since his father was murdered before he could pass down most of his knowledge to his son. The same fate awaited his mother and older sister. He knew only that those columns served as beacons for a barrier. Namely, one that does not protect or block but rather warns. That is how they discovered our trespassing.

Understandably, he would not go further into detail. Though we were bound by a vow, there were ways for one to bypass or trick. Unlike what his appearance and his mannerism told, Ali Salhab was a far smarter man than I first gave him credit.

By the time our conversation topics were exhausted and our respective curiosities satiated, the galleon appeared even more silent than before. Only four other people were standing on deck, all of them armed guards. Their faces were fresh from sleep telltale sign that they had just recently begun their shift. The scented herbs in Ali’s pipe had fully turned into ash and the fire was extinguished, as he realized with a dissatisfied expression.

“I believe I kept ya awake for a bit too much-” Said the man as he cleaned the pipe offboard and shifted it back inside his trousers “- Rest as much as ya can. It’ll take us another day and a half, from then ya’ll have to walk to the walls. It’s around half a day northeast, closer than that and ya covers will be blown…Come see me if ya need something”

And so, without nothing more to talk about, he turned on his heels and left for his chambers, leaving me alone and in silence to contemplate the now-refreshing night’s breeze.

True to his word, a day and a half, an unceremonious departure, and a twelve hours trek under the scorching sun later, me and Julie stood face to face with the behemothian walls of black stone that gave the city its name.

Part 3

Even at their lowest, the walls seemed high enough that even ten of me stacked onto each other would find it difficult to reach the top. Made with rectangular blocks of stone taller than a person, the walls gave off the feeling of being impregnable. Awestruck by the colossal structure in front of her, Julie appeared to mindlessly move her feet, tripping in her own steps oftentimes. Even as we reached the mass of people lined up in front of the gates waiting for their turn to be inspected by the guards, Julie’s eyes never left the immense walls and the dozens of soldiers stationed on them.

“Next!” Shouted a guard with tanned skin and a lustrous mustache circling upwards at its ends.

His colleague was another middle-aged man, taller than the first and carrying a broadsword strapped to his back. Their armors were fairly light and spartan, mostly made of leather or reinforced cloth. Only a few bits, like the pauldrons and helm, were made of metal. Their color patterns seemed to be based on a mixture of black, gold, and purple. Without giving it much thought, I had already begun to plan a way to attack if need came be.

“Reason for the visit?” Asked the mustache guy with an utterly bored tone and a forced smile plastered on his face.

“Work-” I replied, moving the mantle I had taken from the galleon’s storage just slightly so that the handle of the sword on my waist was visible. With the spear now broken and the remaining weapons being just knives and a short sword, the one I carried on my waist was the showiest “- I plan to join the adventurer’s guild. Word is there’s plenty of work around these parts”

“Yes, yes, there’s always need for more workers… Any document to verify your identities?-” He continued, exchanging glances with his companion “- Y’know, new policies and all. The Lord’s been awfully kind with welcoming all sorts of people and now rioters have snuck into the city…Such a shame”

“Will this be identification enough?” I asked, pushing into the mustache guard’s hand one silver coin and a dozen bronze ones.

“Mhh, I see no issue with your…identification-” The man replied with a smile betraying his greed “- Welcome to Blackwall, young adventurer!”

With a slight yet respectful bow of the head, I bid farewell to the guards and tugged on Julie’s sleeve to move her along the way as I mouthed a silent “Come on”. Her eyes trailed frenetically between me and the guard, a hint of disgust sparking in them along with a number of questions clouding her mind. But, she refrained from asking them out loud, that is until we had walked far enough into and past the thick walls where no guard could hear us. A long paved road, dirty with sand and animal discharges stood in front of us, littered on both sides by shops, vendors, and street stalls of all kinds.

“Why did you give him money?” Julie finally asked as soon as we started walking down the road in slow steps as I was busy figuring out where were we on the map given me by Ali Salhab.

“A bribe” I answered very simply.

“Yes, but… He had no right to take it? Why was he-” She began ranting with her fists clenched shut.

[Naive] I thought to myself.

“This is not Migur, Julie-” I interrupted her, taking my eyes away from the sheet of paper in front of me and laying them on hers “- This will not be the last time something like this happens. Don’t make too much of a fuss out of it…we were lucky they didn’t ask for more”

“...It’s not right” She replied meekly after a while.

I ignored her remarks and went back to reading the map. Ali’s map was way too simplistic for it to be of any use other than a simple suggestion. The houses were stacked upon each other like oddly placed cubes, creating shapes that reminded me of a roughly pixelated coral. Some housing structures were as tall as the walls, others reached even further creating some sort of favelas-kind-of condominiums. Some of them were made of an orange material similar to stone, most of them were, while others had the usual grey or black stone mixed in them. Only the wood I was soo used to seeing was nowhere to be found.

[The perfect picture of a fantasy desert city] I mused, spotting the casual white stripped gazebo throughout the square roofs.

It took us a while to gain some sliver of familiarity with the labyrinth-like structure of the city, especially with the fact that some streets required us to walk over a house or climb a set of stairs circling a whole lot of them. There was no apparent concept of “straight roads”. Neither named ones, for that matter, hence finding our target turned out to be quite the struggle. It was only after three hours of losing our way, ending up on roofs, dead ends, and asking for information that we reached the place we were meant to.

A structure four floors high and taking up the width of about three cubic houses made completely out of that orange stone, exception made for the pillars of grey stone lodged in it. Windows armed with shutters made of blackish wood were disposed in tidy lines on all sides of the building and a big sign of wood and steel guarded the place from over the steel door. It said, in human characters, “Witty Fox Inn” along with a tiny design resembling a reddish fox with a wide, toothy grin. It was the inn suggested by Ali, supposedly, it was managed by the ex-wife of one of his men, so our treatment was to be decent, at the very least better than other places.

The process of taking a room, paying, and depositing our excess stuff in it didn’t take long. The room was simple and spartan, with nothing but two small beds, an unadorned wardrobe, one window, and two bedside tables. Toilets and showers were in a shack-like structure placed in the “backyard” of the inn. An oversized sandbox delimited by the nearby houses. On the lowest floor there was a medium-sized kitchen alongside a great number of tables set all around the hall.

The walls on the upper floors were plain, unlike the ones in the hall. They were painted in bright colors like blue, red, and yellow, picturing scenes of seas, lakes rivers, and verdant mountains. It was a simplistic way of painting, forsaking detail in pursuit of a wider range of colored fantasy, but it was a cool breeze among the plainness of the desert. The tables and all other furniture were of cheap wood, chipped and bleached all over, with the only sources of light being a large variety of candles.

“Was the room to your liking?” Asked the woman managing the inn as soon as we walked down the stairs and into the hall.

“Yes-” I replied, showing my most proficient stage smile “- It was quite enough, thank you for your concern”

“I’m glad-” The woman replied showing a smile very similar to mine “- As I said before, lunch is not included but dinner is. You haven’t paid for the full course so I can’t serve you anything fancy but today’s menu will be Komakka, a stew of mushrooms and meat from a steam bison. As for greens… they are very rare around these parts so the cost is very high, sometimes higher than meat. The only thing I can serve you is a side of lettuce”

“Yes, lettuce is fine. We wouldn't want to trouble you too much…Just a quick question, if you don’t mind. Can you please tell me where I can find the Adventurers Guild?”

“Well, well, well-” Said a raspy voice, almost as if hot sand had been poured down the man’s throat as he spoke “- We have some young blood amongst ourselves!... And accompanied by such beauty nonetheless!”

The moment the man spoke, my center of gravity lowered just slightly and my hand was resting on the hilt of my sword. The next moment I was about to unsheathe as I turned but stopped midway. The woman in front of me had her eyes almost popping out of her orbits and her head was shaking from side to side, gesturing me to stop. I made an effort not to forsake her warning.