Opaque glass. People used to build their homes with that. It was dirtier but remained very sturdy. Clear glass requires time and effort. On the other hand, crystal had become rare since the mines of Mount Sabalan passed into the hands of the kingdom. Under the guidance of Musa's father, Thirion, the veins of the area had come under their control. However, they had a significant problem. The Glaziers were no longer subjects of the kingdom but free, living on the Jericho outskirts, and they only knew the secrets of their craft.

The revolutionaries won the second Kaan's vein. It was in Savron, a few kilometres away from the city. Along with the ash from the pearls of the White Sea and the Glazier's art, they could produce the strongest crystal swords in the world. However, the vein was small. Thus, the workers had agreed to use it exclusively to make weapons for the Skywalkers. One such sword was carried on Arsen's belt. Iasol had collected it next to his brother's dead body and kept it until the day he returned. He believed from the first moment that he would return one day.

Aitan's tomb was made of opaque glass. One of the Miners had engraved his name on it in the old script. Arsen leaned the herbs on the tomb and hit the glass with his fist as if declaring his presence. He whispered a few words. They were words of affection and a promise that soon they would be together again, but when it happened, his brother's killer would already have paid.

He stood up and looked at the graves next to his brother's. Hundreds of thousands of revolutionaries had lost their lives since the civil war had started. He still couldn't believe some villages and islands in the White Sea had chosen to side with the palace during this war. Was it fear? A sense of security under the wings of their dynasty? Was it hope that one day the palace would reciprocate their gesture?

It didn't matter anymore. Everyone was fighting for a cause Arsen felt was beginning to fade in the thirst for power. The palace itself wanted to exterminate the queen. The Miners and Glaziers disagreed on how to govern Jericho. He honoured his compatriots who buried his brother with honours, but he was done with all that. Anyone who hindered his goal would fall dead by his sword from whichever side they came.

He walked silently with Iasol following him like a loyal friend. He wondered where Garouda might be. Indeed, he would have felt him. He would have realized he was free and sought his company. Arsen was sure Garouda had yet to appear because he had travelled far away to places where he would be safe.

Mounting their horses, Arsen and Iasol headed towards Jericho. There, they would spend the night, and the following day, with whatever supplies he could secure, he would start his journey to the land of the Scythians. Jericho's glass doors opened, and the wooden mechanism that held them groaned under the weight. The ordinary citizens of the city cared little about his presence. They had more pressing problems. But the eyes of the soldiers all fell on him. Most looked at him with awe. The legend was alive.

Arsen dismounted his horse and paid little attention to the glances around him. He wore armour made of monitor lizard skin stitched in the villages of Khorasan. A blue scarf tucked into his belt, next to his sword, was the last thing he had left from his brother, and he had tied it securely around him. His hair was darker now, once lighter. He had tied it up high, as the warriors of Sambur had taught him when he was a child. Across the White Sea, their civilization had once flourished. Now, surrendered to the Crystal Kingdom, they counted only a few dozen warriors and lived off agriculture.

"It's true after all!" a cheerful voice said behind him. Arsen turned and looked in her direction. His ironic tone told him who it was.

"Hello, Rafal." he replied and continued walking. To his great surprise, Rafal didn't follow him and stayed to watch him from afar as he walked away and entered a tavern to rest. Iasol brought two glasses of yellow wine and sat opposite him at the wooden table.

"Arsen... I know you have nothing to fear, but you must watch out for people like Joseph more carefully."

"He's Sandshit; he'll remain Sandshit," he said, downing his wine in one go.

"He holds power among the Miners. They believe he's strong and decisive."

"He's a brute. They should have taken his head long ago."

Iasol sighed.

"As a child, I dreamed of becoming a Skywalker to search the skies for enemies. To liberate villages and give freedom back to people. That Sandshit never helped anyone. Only plundered and abused. I was young and forgave him. But I hope he doesn't dare to cross my path again."

The corners of Iasol's lips tightened as he glanced towards the door.

"Regarding this, please do me the favour of staying calm," he said, watching as Rafal entered the tavern, followed by two soldiers.

"Arsen!" he called out loudly and touched his back. Arsen closed his eyes, attempting to maintain the composure his good friend had requested.

"...you can't imagine how pleased we were to hear the news of your return. Simultaneously, it surprised us... you see, the palace has never released a hostage, especially one who has slaughtered dozens of its knights."

Rafal pulled up a chair and sat beside him, accidentally breaking a glass.

"...so tell us... what happened? I'm curious," he continued, feigning interest.

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"They just let me go," Arsen replied curtly, then grabbed Iasol's glass and downed another sip of wine.

"They just let you go...? A legend... a Skywalker who would be an example of bravery for every rebel... they just let him go...?"

Arsen contemplated slicing his throat, but he feared it would cause too much turmoil. The time hadn't come yet, and he needed to prepare for his journey first. He also didn't want to jeopardize Iasol's safety.

"Listen, Rafal... mind your business, and I won't interfere with whatever you're doing. Are we clear?"

"If we're clear?" Rafal replied, then laughed loudly, dragging the two soldiers who accompanied him along with his amusement.

"No, we're not clear, Skywalker. I want to know exactly what happened and why they released an assassin. Why did you return?"

"It's none of your concern."

"It concerns all the Skywalkers, and even more so those who hold administrative positions in the council like me."

"Rafal... let it go... it's not the time," Iasol intervened.

"I disagree, comrade. Ten years is a long time. We buried Aitan, believing he had gone to find him in Naalan."

Arsen's gaze flashed.

"Don't mention my brother's name, Sandshit."

"Wow... you're very aggressive, Arsen. You must have had a hard time in the palace all these years. Did they remind you of your failure to save your brother?"

Arsen stood up suddenly, flipped the table, grabbed Joseph by the throat, and squeezed until he almost stopped breathing. The other patrons froze, and the two soldiers who accompanied Rafal drew their glass swords towards Arsen's throat. Rafal laughed.

"Arsen, did you see? When you're away for so many years, the young soldiers forget who you are and dare to brandish their swords at a legend. Little did they know that if you wanted to, you would have already severed their heads," he said, speaking with difficulty, and the soldiers, frightened, sheathed their swords.

Arsen released Rafal's throat.

"I don't want anything from you, Skywalker. I just want you not to meddle in my plans. You've been missing for years. Make sure you stay that way," Rafal said, then nodded to the young soldiers, and they left the place.

"I told you, Arsen... things have hardened since you've been gone," Iasol said, letting go of the handle of his crystal sword.

The desert whispered in the night as the wind unfurled above it like a blanket. Tiny grains of sand pelted against the glass walls with a clamour. Arsen couldn't sleep. Even more so to sit within four walls that would remind him of the cage in which he spent all those years. His thoughts had cleared. He filled his glass tobacco pipe with a bit of smoke and drew forcefully.

In the distance, a loud voice echoed. Smoke ascended to the sky, flames appearing on the horizon. Arsen rose from the bench outside Iasol's house, grabbed his sword, and rushed towards the point where the fire was visible. Upon arrival, he saw panicked people outside a building he recognized from the past. The orphanage was where his brother cared for needy children whenever he came to Jericho.

Most buildings in the city had roofs made of wood and thatch to better retain heat indoors. A glass roof would make the atmosphere unbearable under the scorching sun. However, this made these roofs susceptible to disasters.

Arsen saw children pouring out of the orphanage in panic. "Help!" one of them cried. "My brother! I can't find my brother!"

Arsen plunged into the flames without hesitation, covering his mouth and nose with his brother Aitan's scarf. The heat was unbearable. Flames consumed the sheets and children's toys. Scattered books and jackets were immediately snatched, and the roof creaked, ready to collapse. Arsen ran between the children's beds, looking for any sign of life. In the corner, a small frightened boy sat curled up, knees to his chest, tearful eyes gazing towards him.

Arsen rushed to him and took him in his arms. The wooden roof buckled, an eerie noise scratching the glass, ready to shatter. With the child in his embrace, he ran towards the exit when he heard a loud cry. He paused and looked around, seeing nothing. Then, he crouched low and saw a trembling girl. He reached out his hand to her, cradling the little boy. "Come," he said calmly.

The roof etched the glass. Only a few seconds remained before it shattered into pieces. Without further thought, Arsen grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her close. Then he ran with all his might towards the outside as the roof collapsed, filling the space with debris.

As soon as Arsen emerged with the two children in his arms, a sigh of relief swept through the crowd. The little boy ran immediately to his friends, but the girl seemed to have lost consciousness. Panic-stricken, Arsen began pressing on her chest, trying to expel the smoke from her lungs. But the little girl didn't respond.

"Murderer!" a voice from the crowd exclaimed. The man looked like a soldier. Arsen paid attention once more soldiers appeared among the crowd, brandishing swords.

"Arsen, what have you done?" Joseph's voice was heard as he sat unarmed next to the soldiers.

"What?" Arsen wondered faintly as he continued to press on the girl's chest, trying to revive her.

The soldiers approached closer and encircled Arsen. He had no other choice but to draw his sword and parry their first attack.

"You brought destruction to our city!" Rafal shouted, trying to sway the crowd. Some nodded in agreement and began to applaud. A few others shouted that he had just saved a child and was trying to save another.

"We all know who cared for children in this orphanage! It's revenge for Aitan!" Rafal shouted again, and Arsen's eyes flashed with hatred as he heard his brother's name from Rafal's mouth.

Arsen attacked the soldiers, whom he had only tried to evade until that moment. It took him two moves to drive his sword into the chest of the first one. The crowd roared angrily.

Arsen didn't hear anyone; with a kick, he knocked down two more soldiers, and making a swift turn, he severed the head of the second one. He looked at Joseph with hatred as a smirk played on his lips. He had trapped Arsen with the fire. It seemed as though he had brought destruction to Jericho. He had sent mere soldiers with glass swords to take on a Skywalker. He was sure they would all end up dead.

The soldiers grew to ten, twenty; they seemed to be coming from everywhere. The little girl, who had been pulled from the fire, took a deep breath and regained consciousness. Arsen felt the blood rushing back through his veins at the sight of the girl getting up and running to join her friends.

The circle had widened. None of these soldiers could take him on, but their numbers concerned him. As great warrior as he was, he couldn't take on all of them at once. What would happen if more Skywalkers like Rafal appeared?

A piercing sound like a scream was heard. From the sky descended an eagle the size of a Sogdian great vulture with golden-red plumage and green-yellow eyes.

"Garuda..." exclaimed Arsen as the eagle swooped down upon the soldiers, knocking half of them to the ground. Arsen punched two soldiers who stood in his way and then leapt onto Garuda's back. The eagle flapped its wings so forcefully that the dust made the crowd cover their faces. As they moved away from Jericho, Arsen heard Rafal shouting, "Murderer...!" while the crowd cheered him on.