“Morning Lydan,” I said brightly, sitting down opposite to my brother.

“Good morning to you too,” he said. “I hope your quarters are to your liking?”

I’d had the first good night of sleep in nearly two weeks, the simple bed a luxury our father had denied me with this odorous task a balm on my soul. I was feeling pretty damn good indeed.

“I'd rate it decent at best,” I lied instead. “Better than what we've had in the last weeks though. I've not yet properly finetuned the spell to transform sand into a proper bed yet.”

“I'm sure you'll find a way in time,” he smirked. “I doubt you ever spent a minute thinking about essential spells like this before you were sent out.”

“I did not,” I agreed easily. “I thought father was more reasonable. I thought I had more time too, but he sent me out only a month after my eighteenth birthday.”

“He really does not want you to succeed,” he said.

“He doesn't. And he can only win. If I fail he can reinstate Lyria with only a little bit of balash and if I do not, he's now in control of Iriloh in addition to Roh,” I grumbled. "Bastard's using our traditions against me."

“At least he will have to properly acknowledge you as heiress if you do succeed,” he said.

“When I succeed,” I corrected. “It's only a matter of time.”

“You have twelve guards, thirty two bandits and a piece of broccoli Lyra,” he stated. “I think a little scepticism is allowed.”

“Well that's thirty two bandits and their loot more than I started out with,” I said. “And you forgot my most important asset.”

“Yourself?” he sighed.

“Yes!” I agreed. “I'm the centermostpiece of this conquest.”

“That you are,” he agreed. “To business then?”

“To business,” I agreed. “What can you tell me about the local underworld you're part of?”

"I am not part of the local underworld!" he protested.

"How'd I get here then?" I asked. "My minions knew of you and led me here."

"They did. And you never thought to ask yourself if I was a bandit leader? You just came here?" he asked.

"Of course," I answered. "We're still outside of Iriloh so I can make a mistake or two. And you're a good mage, but not good enough to stop me."

"Arrogance doesn't look good on you Lyra," he sighed. "I've had a decade without much to do but grow my magic. I'd be far more careful than you are."

He growled a little, the walls seemingly closing in on us.

I raised my eyebrow, manifesting a small part of my domain around me and the walls returned to their previous state.

“Impressive. You're only forty and your magic has already moved beyond the veil of the world,” I praised. "It's something I'm still struggling to do myself."

"Magic the great Lyra, heiress of Roh cannot do?" he teased, his eyes flicking to our right.

"It's only a matter of time," I shrugged, turning there too. “You know how it is. So how about my minions, do you know them?”

“There's nearly a thousand people living in here Lyra,” he said. “And not a single one of them was ever a bandit. I threw the last of those out years ago”

“So why did they know about this place?” I asked. “Your home doesn't broadcast your location.”

“I'm not sure,” he said. “I have not seen any of your men before. My best guess is that they knew about this place from their compatriots and simply lied in hopes to get rid of you.”

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“But what then? My guards would just take care of them even if I died?” I wondered.

“They don't know that,” he stated. “Most people tend to fall out of peoples mind when a mage like you takes to the field.”

“So they're even less reliable than I thought,” I mused. “So tell me about Iriloh. Tell me who runs the undercity of the most powerful oasis in the desert.”

“There's two groups, maybe three,” he started. “Few if any of theirs ever leave the oasis so I don't know too much about most of them, with even fewer coming around here.”

“Go on,” I encouraged.

“Everyone with even a smidge of power in the undercity is wealthy,” he said. “Disgustingly so.”

“Obviously,” I grumbled. “Iriloh lies between Roh and Ira. It's a fucking goldmine.”

“It is,” Lydan agreed. “And I don't know why father wants to have it.”

“He's stupid and greedy,” I grumbled. “Wants to control his influence or have me fail. Iriloh is the hardest target he could choose without sending me to Ira.”

“This will not go over well with them,” he agreed. “But back on topic. The underworld of Iriloh.”

“I'm all ears.”

“The underworld in Iriloh is split in two. The high king and the low council,” he said. “They're constantly fighting a cold war with each other and the third faction, the city guard. So far the conflict has been hidden, or the oasis would have long collapsed in itself.”

“A war with three sides, that sounds promising,” I mused. “Who do you think my former minions would have run to?”

“Yes, you two ‘former minions’," he grinned. "Two lowlifes that somehow managed to escape the royal guard. If they do run for Iriloh they'll join the low council. The other two factions would never even entertain their like.”

"I see," I said. "So tell me about this low council."

“They're a cabal of influential merchants that want to ascend,” he started. “They're a bunch of opportunistic backstabbers. The council is constantly changing, with new members joining and old ones dying or leaving. They're ruthless and use any method they deem useful to damage and kill their opposition. They're allied out of convenience without an ounce of loyalty to each other.”

"So they're the most likely to join me then," I mused, looking at the wall to our right again.

“I'm not much of a plotter anymore, but they do seem to be your best bet,” he agreed. “They'll join you if your offer is good enough.”

“Tell me about the others,” I said after a short pause.

“Well, the High King is a rich mage living in the upper quarters of the oasis," my brother started. "No one I know actually knows his magic or name, but his goons tend to be decent mages in their own right, generally prey on rich merchants and the leaders of the occasional caravan. I know of at least three dozen attempts on his life in the last year alone, all of which failed."

"Three dozen?" I asked. "That's more assassin attempts than father sees in three."

"It is," he agreed.

"It's also a bloody waste of resources and talent," I complained. "Killing a decently skilled mage with anything but brute force is a gamble you can only afford to lose once! Do you have any idea what I could do with someone confident like that?"

"A lot! It's a fucking waste of a skilled minion!" I ranted.

It also seemingly established just how stupid it was to go after him.

"So no one knows who he is?" I asked. "Or what magic he can do?"

"Exactly," Lydan agreed.

"That's very suspicious," I admitted.

"I knew you'd say that," Lydan sighed.

"It's the obvious conclusion," I said.

"It can't be that easy, can it?" I mused. "No one would be that stupid!"

"Can I continue?" he asked.

"Of course," I allowed.

"Well," Lydan shuffled the papers in front of him. "The guards are probably a dead end for you, but they're led by another powerful mage. A powerful fire mage named Ika. He's been active in the oasis for longer than either of us have been alive and never had any active contenders for his position. He's loyal to the senate down to the last bone and everyone going after them ultimately wishes they'd never been born."

“That's not immediately useful,” I lied.

“No, he's the most likely to violently oppose your plans,” Lydan agreed.

Ika did sound like my best bet in fact. You did not get into his position without a certain moral flexibility and the will to stay there. More importantly, father wouldn't think about a simple guard captain after my conquest was done, so he wouldn't lose his position either way.

“Now let's get my broccoli and I'll take care of the small sand problem you seem to have,'' I said with a clap of my hands. "And then I need to talk to my minions. Treason cannot be tolerated."

"What did you expect? Bandits are not known for being loyal," he said. "They're bandits. They don't rob weaker people of their livelihood because they're loyal, upstanding citizens."

"I guess you're right," I deflated. "I was too excited to find my first minions not supplied by father."

Lydan just shook his head and left the room. I took one last look at the wall with a small smile on my face, expanding my magic to take control of the sand around me.