“Gather the water and turn it into ice, Frozen Cascade!” willing his magic to life, Xander created a blueish-white magic circle before him. The surrounding air froze and reached behind the enemy lines, binding them.

Legs froze into place, hands and weapons stuck together, but a few of the slave warriors escaped Xander’s grasp.

“You’re not going anywhere!” Xander cast another spell to hit Hessian from the side and expanded the ice to encase his enemy into a block of ice.

Hessian was stuck in mid-air as he had been about to strike Kiur with his sword.

“You know, I never intended to help you when things got dire,” admitted Xander as he threw Kiur’s arm over his shoulder and dragged him away. “But with things coming to this, I couldn’t just leave you behind. You know, being the leading man and all, and helping a friend in need.”

Kiur bobbed his unconscious head, giving Xander a misleading signal that he understood and supported his decision in every way. Xander felt flattered.

“You’re too understanding, aren’t you-” Xander felt a cutting presence edging into his back. Jumping from his spot, Xander faced the frozen block of ice with a Hessian specimen inside.

He emanated a threateningly dominant aura as he glared after them, after Kiur.

A fissure formed and cracked the surface. Hessian broke free and unleashed a sharp shockwave, aiming at the spot where Xander had stood a second ago.

“Can’t you just let us go?” Xander asked kindly. Hessian greeted him with a deep grunt and a cold exhale. His eyes fixed madly on Kiur and the poor soul next to him. “I guess that’s a solid no...”

—☼—

Kiur picked up the cumbersome vase with both of his tiny hands, carrying it to his mother’s workshop without being able to see where he was walking to.

He was barely four, his body covered in bandages and wearing robes that were so big he dragged most of it along wherever he went and hid his face in a hood.

It was not a surprise when Kiur tripped, fell and shattered the vase. A loud crash would echo through their rented house in the old city-state of Kutha.

Worried about the child, Esha dropped a stone tablet in hand and rushed over to Kiur, surrounded by a field of shards and him hiding his face in shame.

“Oh, you little klutz,” Esha chuckled before repairing the vase with a fling of her wrist. Kiur expected to be scolded and berated. Instead, he sat on her lap and learned the alphabet.

Eagerly, Kiur took in every single word and sentence his mother would utter during her work.

In the next scene, Esha brought Kiur with her back to Nippur to meet his brother for the very first time.

Archil was as tall as he always was, but much more frightening in his teens.

His harsh, discerning eyes made anyone think he was ready to pounce at them and rip out their throats—which was a valid reaction back then.

Kiur’s first instinct was to hide behind his mother’s frame, tightly clinging to her wine-red robe.

It took them some time to get along—a long time, to be exact—as siblings do.

“Do you see the desert, Kiur?” asked Archil, holding his brother’s hand as they tried to get along and went for an early morning walk.

Eagerly, Kiur watched the sunrise from the east where the red sea was.

From atop the mountains of their home, they had a view of the entire landscape in all its splendour. The sea to their left, Navarre’s coastal area with its white marble buildings stretching far to the edges of the desert.

The sand and dunes were everywhere, swallowing everything in its proximity.

In the centre, Kiur saw a structure rising higher than any mountain, piercing the very sky with its peak. A rugged black obelisk reflected sunrays to colour the proximity in an amethyst hue.

It was one of the most beautiful sights Kiur had ever seen. Archil put him on his shoulders so Kiur could enjoy the view even better. That moment was the first time when Kiur was glad to be born in this world.

And the one when he truly bonded with his brother, becoming a part of their family.

However, the present Kiur couldn’t comprehend anymore what his past self had experienced.

Kiur stared at his younger self, hugging his mother and spending time with his brother, then switching to his time with his two best friends.

The Kiur now could barely muster up a smile. He was too different from how he was back then.

“Why am I seeing this?” Kiur's daydream returned him to the gloomy temple of Ganzir with the giantess in front of him. He felt cold, his heart radiating even less warmth than before. “What am I supposed to feel? What are you trying to make me feel?”

He couldn’t believe what he was just saying. It wasn’t usual for him to say things like this. What was happening to him? Was it his real self?

Was his old self dying? Burning away like his magic?

“What’s happening to me?” Kiur pleaded before the giantess, begging for answers. She bent forward towards Kiur and cupped her hands as she put them on the ground.

The black air whirled in and around them, producing a mirror with Kiur’s image inside. One where he was smiling warmly with sympathy, full of life and joy—the same Kiur he had been just three years prior.

Kiur placed his hand on the mirror; his reflection imitated the gesture a second later. Then the image distorted, revealing again the form of a woman Kiur always saw.

She was miserable, crying, and full of emotional pain, just like she always was and how she looked at Kiur not too long ago. Furiously, he smashed the mirror with his fist, spilling his blood on the goddess’ hands.

“Who is she?” Kiur demanded, tears boiling. “Who am I!?”

“You are you,” the giantess finally spoke with a tone of authority that filled the void. Her red eyes opened briefly, glimmering in a sea of darkness like the nebula above them, far from frightening. “You’re doing the best you can. Listen to the drive of your heart. Act on it, don’t let it wither.”

“What do you mean?” Kiur exchanged glances with the delusion in the corner again. She avoided him. What was she ashamed of? “Why are you following me?” he asked, exasperated. “Answer me!”

“Don’t ask what you know.” her eyes opened fully, and her wings expanded to encase the entire temple.

This time, however, Kiur didn’t feel like stepping away.

He understood she wasn’t trying to intimidate him because he knew that if she tried to, he would not leave in one piece.

“Do what your heart tells you to do. Find your wit, find your gut. They will help you lead.”

With a single gentle push of hers, Kiur tumbled backwards, falling off the ziggurat and hitting an ashen pool of water, sinking like a heavy rock.

His eyes never wandered away from her as he sunk further and further down the dark and muddy water.

There was no air to breathe. He was drowning with water filling his lungs. Suffocating, Kiur screamed the water out of his lungs. Alas, it sucked him back into his reality.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Hey, you, you’re finally awake.” Xander greeted him with a grin, holding on tightly to the violently shaking wagon. “How was your nap? We are a bit, ehm, preoccupied.”

Preoccupied didn’t describe it in the slightest.

Kiur knew that when the wagon made‌ a sudden jump. The rider made an abrupt and violent left turn with other wagons following suit—driving like a madman who just got their license and was ready to hit the road.

Mind them, the scouts riding the wagons had every reason to. Reiszer were on their tails and hellbent on catching them on their galloping horses.

“We hijacked the wagons?” asked Kiur, clinging to the shaking wagon alongside Xander.

“We sure did!” A female scout answered, scrambling around the metal bars outside of the wagon with her clawed hands. Red feathers stuck out of her forearms, arms like a beautiful plumage, and out of her hair—a bird therianthrope.

“Your friend over there made it possible!”

She pointed at Cylia on the front of the wagon, holding on tightly to the back of Jeorg, riding the wagon.

“She’s not our friend!” protested Xander loudly before Kiur shut him up with a kick—he just woke up and was still cranky. “What was that for!?” Xander complained.

“Stop bad-mouthing others,” grunted Kiur. “It makes you less likeable.”

“Hmph,” Xander crossed his arms and turned away from Kiur. Spotting an approaching cavalry by chance, he screamed, “They are coming from the flanks!”

“We see them!” The female scout flung herself forward to Jeorg, landing on the front of the wagon by gliding via the feathers on her body and her cloak. “Jeorg!” she exclaimed in mock panic. “Danger to our left. Turn right, RIGHT!!”

“Right? By all that is holy, are you insane, Gallina!?” he shouted back, bouncing up and down because of the wagon. “There’s a cliff on that side!”

“We will shake them off there.” She gave him a wicked grin. “They don’t know the desert as well as we do.”

“Works for me. Everyone, hold on tight, Hiyah!” Jeorg shouted when he pulled the reins sideways to turn the horse.

They tried to shake off their pursuers by employing fire magic and crossbows, but nothing worked to deter the approach. As the rumours preceded, the Reiszer were relentless.

One of the Reiszer hopped off her horse and on the wagon, followed by other soldiers shortly after. They were ready to hijack the hijackers.

—☼—

The few scouts could do little to stop them. The enemy outnumbered them 3:1—at best.

“Girl, keep the horse steady. I will take care of them.” Kiur and Xander watched how the dwarven scout handed over the reins to the fidgeting Cylia so he could fight off the soldiers.

The enemies’ numbers were only growing. Soon, the scouts would be too preoccupied with fighting them instead of focusing on the desert roads.

Hitting rogue stones was not fun—the wagons shook too much.

Xander jumped from his spot when a Reiszer clanged with their swords against the metal bars. In retaliation, Xander blasted him off the horse with water. “This is getting out of hand. We need to help those scouts.”

Kiur knew they had to do something, but they were stuck in a cage with fights raging on all around them. Above, the dwarf got pinned to the ground by a Reiszer before a crossbow from Gallina shot them down.

“Headshot!” she threw up her hands in triumph. “I could shoot down an apple from your head blindfolded!”

Kiur’s fingers tingled with excitement. He had an idea.

“Hey!” Kiur held his hand out of the carriage despite the danger it held from having it sliced off. “I need a crossbow!”

“Huh? Hold on,” Gallina hit off a Reiszer with the back of her foot and another with a swing of her kukri sword. Bolts of fire shot from her arm and exploded in the vicinity. She handed Kiur a dwarven-made crossbow with a smile. “Here you go, sweetie. Do you know how to operate it?”

“Not really,” admitted Kiur and adjusted the angle. He aimed it at the other wagon close by and shot a Reiszer against the shoulder guard. They fell off the wagon and the dumbfounded scout gave Kiur a thumbs up.

Gallina, Jeorg, and Xander gave Kiur a curious look.

“Liar, you do know how to shoot with a crossbow!” insisted Xander, visibly impressed by Kiur’s sudden display of skill. Xander fist-bumped his shoulder.

“I don’t.” Kiur lowered the crossbow and rubbed his arm. He never handled a crossbow in his life and had no skill with it, but somehow he knew how to aim with it. “Nevermind that. We need a plan. They won’t stop coming-”

Then suddenly the whole wagon started to shake and lose control.

Reiszer stuck their spears and swords into the wheels, driving them crazy.

“We’re going to derail!” shouted Cylia, losing control of their wagon. Hearing the wood squeak and metal breaking, everyone held on for their dear life.

The shaking of the wagon made it impossible for anyone to react or get on their feet to respond. Kiur and Xander hung onto the metal bars—and clung on to each other for good measure.

Desperation hit Kiur when the wagon made a turbulent jump. He tried to cast a spell, any kind of spell.

His eyes were glowing from the attempt. He could see the surrounding motes reacting. They were waiting, expecting a command, but nothing happened.

His channels were brimming with mana, ready to cast, but again, nothing. It was as if a seal lay on him, refusing to work. “Come on, why does it never work when I need it to? Now, of all times, work!”

The particles vanished, leaving Kiur in his failures.

“What’s that?”

“Something’s coming.”

“Is that a person!?”

Hearing the shouts of the Reiszer, everyone gathered at the back of the wagons.

They saw a sandstorm approaching. The area was still at the borders of the desert and rarely saw any storms, and yet there was one coming fast.

The grass bent and dried away from the storm.

This one was so big that it covered the sky—a size unlike anything Kiur or anyone else had seen before—conjured by a person who ran faster than any ordinary horse could master.

The person ran towards the wagons and dragged the storm with them, swallowing up horses and wagons of foe and friend alike.

“I can’t see anything,” coughed Kiur with everyone else. The sand and dust were all around them, hindering their ability to see or breathe.

In a brief instance, Kiur spotted a light, then a tunnel opened up amidst the storm where the light was peering through. “Everyone, turn to your left to the opening!”

Speaking in his native language, Kiur guided everyone to follow his directions. For some reason, only Kiur could see it. The inner walls of the tunnel were glowing with the green light of wind magic particles.

Perhaps it was a precaution, in case a Reiszer spotted it too. They ploughed into the tunnel, leaving the Reiszer behind in the confusion.

“Turn right and circle it,” informed Kiur in a shout at what he saw. He was the only one who could predict the random patterns of the sandstorm as they struggled to see.

“Switch places with me lass, you did well.” Jeorg changed places with Cylia. She plopped down on the floor next to Kiur and Xander.

“I’m beat. How is it going over there?” she stretched her arms to hang on the metal rods, staring directly at the two before shoving a smug grin at Xander. “So, did you do something useful today?”

“Get off your high horse. You were just steering a horse. Any blind person could do that.”

“And why did you not do that?”

“Why, you little!”

The situation seemed safe to conclude in their favour—seeing as how Xander and Cylia returned to their bickering. “Seems like we will finally be able to get home, right?”

Looking at Kiur, the two had an awkward time continuing to argue. They shut up and rested against the bars.

“When I return home, the first thing I’ll do is take a bath and hope I will never return to this place,” Xander answered first, raising a hand to emphasise.

“Not sure I can agree with the sentiment of you two.” Cylia broke the conversation, looking uncertainly at the sandstorm. “I don’t think it will be so easy. At least not for me. I don’t have a home after this.”

Sharing a glance, Kiur and Xander didn’t know what to say.

Unlike them, Cylia’s home was in the Reiszer Nations, where she was a slave. Her home country was possibly long gone, turned into a vassal state.

They have been too inconsiderate of her—especially Xander.

“There’s the exit!” They heard Gallina shout above them, finally seeing the end of the tunnel.

It was within spitting distance, with the welcoming heat of the desert wind blowing into their faces the closer they came. Some prisoners were already celebrating their freedom.

The trio couldn’t help but feel elated as well.

The end of the tunnel—symbolising the road away from the danger of the Reiszer. It was still a long way to drive, but they celebrated that the worst had passed them.

Though Kiur noticed amidst their cheers a disturbance approaching. Slowly, the sandstorm experienced changes in its pattern. Caving in from pressure and blowing westwards.

One wagon was blown into shreds, and the rest derailed.

Previously, they had tried to lure the Reiszer over the cliffs. Their plan worked now against them.

CHARACTER PROFILES

Jeorg, a dwarf and Navarrien scout. He got commissioned for the relief mission to free everyone taken prisoner by the Reiszer Nations.

He has a braided beard and brown hair with a scar going over his nose and up to his forehead.

Isn’t particularly happy leaving Navarre for long periods.

Magic: Earth; Main Weapon: a crossbow and a one-handed hammer.

In his free time, he enjoys visiting settlements on the Navarrien outskirts and fighting mock battles.

Distrusts foreigners who are not from the East.

Gallina, a therianthrope with bird-like origins and a Navarrien Scout. She got commissioned for the relief mission and was looking forward to working together with her Idarien Scout brothers. She is a skilled fighter who regularly works together with Idarien Scouts.

She has red eyes and hair with feathers sticking out on some parts with braids tying up most of it behind her head. Her forearms are covered in red feathers and her hands are like claws.

Has a chipper attitude.

Magic: Fire; Main Weapons: a crossbow and kukri blades.

Gallina enjoys eating sunflower seeds and taking part in discus throwing.