All things have an end. Even the Eternal Night met the Sun.

A life of wandering, without knowing if there's a final destination waiting for me.

Will I simply stop looking forward to my next discovery?

Or will there be no more undiscovered paths to walk?

I tell myself that the next journey will be to answer God Yven's call.

But why do I keep putting it off?

Am I afraid of who I am without my calling,

Or am I too attached to who I am now?

Is it a paradox? I do not know.

— Excerpt from Lost Winds, by an unnamed traveler. This is the only section written in the Old Tongue, roughly translated by Fallen Star Pavilion. Head Scholar Lauryn notes it follows archaic verse seen mostly in works older than the Empire of the Sun.

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The Endless Sands

"What do you think they're discussing?" Primrose murmured to Kalle, nodding at the sand sled ahead of them. Jyuni was handling the rudder while Molam conversed with Mursa Shang.

Kalle shrugged, wiping sweat from his brow with a hand. "The heat?"

Primrose almost laughed at that, but she understood Kalle's sentiment. She imagined he was having a harder time than she was, having grown up in the Northern Plains. It was one thing to be told it would be hot, but now that she was experiencing it herself she thought the words did not do it justice.

How could mere heat be this oppressive?

The scorching Sun hung high in a cloudless sky, beating down upon the endless expanse of yellow sand in a relentless, searing glare. Each sled had two slender poles over the sides to support a makeshift roof of white cloth, but the heat clung to her skin regardless of the slight shade.

Part of her wondered why Mursa Shang's Domain did nothing to alleviate the effects of the baking atmosphere. Meera had explained something about "needing to blend in with the environment so as to not draw attention to themselves." While this had made sense at the time, Primrose’s dry skin and burning cheeks made her wonder if the monsters of the Endless Sands were a preferable alternative. The caravan had only traveled for half a day and she already found the Endless Sands testing the limits of her tolerance. They were surrounded by an ocean of dunes as far as the eye could see, but Primrose didn't find that name quite adequate for the sheer desolation. Unforgiving — mm, that would have been more apt. The Unforgiving Sands.

Primrose loosened the cap on her waterskin, taking a small sip. Then another sip — much larger and with some guilt. She hoped she was pacing her water correctly; she didn't want to ask Kalle for some of his on their first day.

As she stowed the sloshing pouch away, she realized she had ceased to notice the constant, rhythmic sway of the camels' gait. At least I’ve acclimatized to something. The animals’ cleft hooves sank softly into the golden grains of the Endless Sands with each measured step, pulling the weight of the sleds with stoic determination. Their long lashes batted lazily against the relentless glare of the Sun.

The Sun. Primrose peeked up past the cloth cover, then glanced away from the blinding Sunlight. Summer's Warmth, she thought dryly. Whoever called this "warm" must have grown up in the Spike Maelstrom. She suppressed the desire to voice her irritation; Meera had said talking would make one thirstier, and Primrose recognized when her discomfort was driving her decisions.

Her training kicked in, and Primrose forced herself to take a deep, measured breath. Madam Ixia's words lingered in her mind as she slowly exhaled: Control your emotions or be ruled by them.

Primrose's preferred method, then, was to make herself aware of her emotions and acknowledge they existed.

Breathe in. The warm, dry air flowed through her nose and into her chest. Even her lungs protested the heat. Yes, the oppressive heat. It was there.

She held the breath, feeling the warmth disperse into the rest of her body. If she could do nothing about the temperature, she would be better off accepting it. They were traveling into the Endless Sands and heading to Oasis; if she could not learn to bear the sweltering climate then it would negatively affect her throughout their stay. That would not do.

Exhale and let go. As the stale air rushed out of her lungs, Primrose relaxed her shoulders and stretched her neck to the left and right. She let go of the emotion, for there was nothing that could be done about it right now. It didn't make the feeling of suffocation go away — and she would definitely ask Kalle if he had any ideas for it tonight — but her little exercise helped.

Kalle shifted his posture, causing his shadow to fall over Primrose. She looked up at him in gratitude, which turned to guilt when she noted the beads of sweat dotting his brow. He must be having an even worse experience, but he bore it without complaint. He was focused, with his hand on the rudder and a firm grip on the reins.

It had taken some time for Kalle to become accustomed to guiding a sand sled, but he was now keeping pace with the Mursa's lead. The sand sleds glided effortlessly over the dunes. They only required the occasional readjustment from the rudders, or flick of the reins to guide the camels. Crafted from sturdy wood and reinforced with leather bindings, the sleds skimmed across the sandy terrain with ease. Their wide, flat runners left behind a faint trail of smoothly pressed sand in their wake.

Meera rode her camel at a distance, atop a separate crest. Like the other mursashu, Meera had changed into white, loose-fitting clothing that allowed for the rare breeze to pass through the fabric. A spear sat across her lap, the sharp tip gleaming in the Sun's light. Like the other riders, she was constantly scanning away from the line of sleds, only turning on occasion to ensure she was keeping pace with their direction and speed.

Primrose fanned herself, then sighed. They traveled in the day because that was when the monsters of the Sands were less likely to be active, but she wondered if it was truly worth it.

She could only hope the heat didn't kill her first. At least she had accepted it.

For now.

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The things emerged at dusk.

From Primrose's high vantage point, she could focus her Sight to see past the far edges of the Mursa's concentrated Domain. The scene unfolded slowly, starting with barely a ripple of disturbed sand. But as the Sun's light faded over the horizon, the signs grew more pronounced.

Primrose's heartbeat jumped as she watched the things shake the sand from their bodies. As they rose, she noticed that they each stood on four thin, shadowy tendrils, which lifted the lumps of mass that made up their bodies.Their shapes reminded her of a spider, if one could grow to the height of HuaLang Chamber. The three of them moved with an eerie grace, their sinuous legs undulating like serpents in the shifting grains.

She had heard of them before, but the sensation of seeing them in person sent an unnatural shiver down her spine. The Endless Sands had creatures, and then it had monsters. Things that lived during the Eternal Night, but were not themselves demons. They had escaped the Seal, yet were unable to tolerate the light of the Hero's Sun.

"Khaken," said Meera as she tossed a fresh waterskin to Primrose. "They won't find us," she added, "no eyes, no ears, not as far as we can tell anyway. They use those tendrils to seek out the aura of living things. Our Mursa's written his Domain to blend us perfectly into the Sands."

"The Khaken are… larger than I thought." Primrose slid down from the top of their sled, landing soundlessly on the sand. "I suppose that when the scrolls, tales, and artworks depict them, it's hard to capture their size."

"Those are a bit larger than usual, but everyone says that at first." Meera nodded understandingly. "It's just difficult to imagine the monsters of the Eternal Night for those of you who've never left the Central Valley. Some would say that's the Empire's good deed."

Primrose masked her look of disgust, responding in a polite tone. "They can say that. Not everyone needs to agree."

Meera shrugged. "Look, I'm not an Empire apologist. But it's a fact that the people of the Central Valley enjoy a life free of monsters because the Red Emperor eradicated the ones that managed to sneak in. Whether the Free Cities or the Empire, many generations have managed to live their lives without a single encounter for almost six hundred years. That's something."

"Because the Oasians, the Northern Tribes, and the Formosan Islanders keep the Central Valley protected." Kalle's voice sailed over. Primrose looked down, surprised that he was listening while cooking their dinner for the night. He caught her surprised look, then added, "watching the stew boil doesn't make me deaf. Also, the food is ready."

"He's right, you know," Primrose rounded on Meera as the two of them walked towards the boiling pot. "The fundamental issue hasn't been fixed. Monsters still roam outside of the Central Valley, and the Empire has simply shifted the responsibility to others."

"You won't find me arguing that point because we're in agreement, Primrose." Meera stabbed the butt of her spear into the sand, sitting down near Kalle and accepting a bowl of stew. "All I was saying was that the Central Valley's people have lived a life free of monsters. I hope that doesn't offend you," she said pointedly to Kalle. "I know your people are constantly fighting the monsters in the Northern Plain. Also, this smells wonderful, thank you for cooking."

Primrose looked towards the Mursa's campfire, the small light sitting a dune away. Molam hadn't returned to them yet. She could only assume he was still speaking with Mursa Shang. While Meera had asked if they would prefer to share with the rest of the mursashu, Primrose and Kalle had politely chosen to build their own campfire, apologizing to Meera for keeping her away from her own people.

And it was a divide. The mursashu were cordial enough, but Primrose didn't need to See to notice the way they were careful with their words around her. The obvious difference in their body language between dealing with her and Meera made it clear that neither she nor Kalle were accepted. The two of them were barely more than just cargo; guests who had tagged along at their Mursa's decision, ones who didn't understand mursashu culture nor could contribute to the duties of a mursasho.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Primrose, my arm's getting tired," Kalle spoke reproachfully, indicating the bowl of hot stew he held towards her.

"Sorry. Thank you, Kalle. It smells wonderful." Primrose sat down with the other two, blowing lightly on her stew. Chunks of meat peeked through the surface, glistening inside the rich broth. The hints of green and orange indicated Kalle's choice of vegetables. After a surreptitious check for poisons out of habit, she dug in with gusto.

"You two are taking to this much better than I expected," Meera said conversationally, in between bites. "Especially considering it's your first time in the Endless Sands."

"Thanks. Still, I'm going to be working on something to help dissipate the heat," Kalle grumbled, poking at his dinner. "I just haven't come up with the design yet. Roasting all day isn’t exactly fun."

"Kalle, you don’t seem intrigued by the Khaken at all," observed Primrose.

"We have them in the Northern Plains, too." Kalle chewed some meat before continuing. "Every boy participates in a monster hunt to earn his manhood, and the Khaken are usually the easiest. The trick to fighting them is to have five people, four capable of restraining each of the legs, and the fifth aiming straight for the body."

"And if there's only three of us?" Primrose pointed out.

The Northerner shrugged, nonchalant. "You mask your aura or succumb."

Primrose waited for more. When it became clear there was nothing else, she glanced at Meera, who was busy eating. "Is that how it is with all of the monsters?"

"We are outside the Central Valley, Primrose," Meera replied. "I've heard you are quite a force to be reckoned with when you fight a human, but monsters are completely different. The Khaken, Gaochun, and even the Shaguai we call Sandwurms are just some of the monsters that weren't affected by the Hero's Seal. If you want to keep your humanity, you would do best to remember this one fact." The mursashu leaned closer, a glint in her eyes. "Outside of the Central Valley, you are the quarry. Act accordingly and always choose survival."

The seriousness in which Meera cautioned her and the way Kalle nodded understandingly brought the idea crashing down. She hadn't ever thought of what life was like outside of the Central Valley, or what it truly meant for the Empire of the Sun to have kept the Northern Tribes, the Oasians, and the Formosan Islanders guarding its borders. Meera understood because the mursashu traveled everywhere, and Kalle understood because it was simply the way of life for the Northern Tribes.

Another thought leapt unbidden into Primrose's mind. Had Lyka viewed life this way too? Did Lyka ever think she was prey, that Primrose was too relaxed with the way she lived?

Kalle's spoon tapped on her bowl, breaking Primrose's thoughts. "Don't get too lost in that thought," he wagged his spoon at her, "Meera is right and you shouldn't forget her words, but the most important thing is to just have a healthy respect for the monsters of the Eternal Night."

Primrose smiled at Kalle's worried expression. "I'll keep that in mind. Don't worry, I will adjust quickly."

"You'll do just fine then," said Meera as Kalle settled back in his seat. "The Sands can be more predictable. Oasis, on the other hand, requires quite a bit of adjusting."

"As this is our first time going to Oasis, can you share anything with us, Meera?" Primrose asked, chasing the lingering thoughts of Lyka out of her head. "You're part of the mursasho that focuses on information gathering when the caravan stops, after all. Kalle and I will need some basic knowledge in order to help Molam in Oasis."

Meera sprinkled some spices into her stew before answering. "I suppose the Mursa did speak to me about helping you. But that's a broad request, 'share anything.' Can you ask something specific?"

Primrose paused, but Kalle asked first. "Do gold and silver really have no value in Oasis?"

Meera chuckled, light-hearted yet restrained. "You're asking about coins? Value is subjective. I wouldn't say they have no value, but their representation of value is more affected by market forces than water in Oasis. That's why Oasis uses water instead."

"I'd like to hear more about that," Primrose chimed in. "Do they carry buckets of water around instead of a coin pouch?"

"As fun as that would be to watch, no. Oasians use something called banknotes — stamped pieces of paper — to represent specific units of water. While every place does accept actual water too, they're usually limited to how much they can store at any given moment."

"Stamped pieces of paper?" echoed Primrose, confused.

Meera dug into her clothes and pulled out a fistful of folded slips of paper, then handed one each over to Primrose and Kalle. Primrose reached for the banknote with curiosity, inspecting it intensely.

"Don't drop that into your stew," Meera cautioned. "That's twenty cups of water. A day's worth of wages in Oasis."

"I'll be careful," Primrose promised, tracing the intricate patterns on the paper with her finger. It almost looked like one of those bookmarks she'd seen. Part of it was written in the Old Tongue, and to her chagrin, a symbol of the Sun was in the center of the banknote. It wasn't exactly like the Empire's symbol, but she found it distasteful nonetheless. The ink glimmered faintly in her Sight.

She noticed the bold number twenty amongst the patterns, and flipped it over to see that both sides of the paper were the same. "I suppose the runic ink is to prevent counterfeits?" she guessed out loud.

"Correct," Meera nodded, pointing to the banknote with her spoon. "Tamper with that and the runes dissipate, making your banknote worthless. So you can't overwrite it with a new number, and no one can make fakes without the specific ink used by the banks. That ink is only made when both WellWardyn and Fontayneer agree it's time to create more."

"WellWardyn? Fontayneer?" asked Kalle. Primrose shared the confusion, for she did not recognize the names.

"Agh. Keep those names in mind." Meera handed her empty bowl to Kalle, indicating she would like seconds. "They're the two banks of Oasis, and you can't really do business in Oasis without dealing with them. Well, that's not completely true," she amended herself. "There's also Aquifyr, but they're more of a credit union and not a bank."

Primrose had little experience in these matters. "Is there a difference?"

"I — hmm." Meera pondered the question for a moment, before accepting her second bowl. "I suppose for your purposes," she answered slowly, "the banks focus on profit while credit unions focus on service. I think Cholani or someone from their mursasho could give you a better explanation, but it's not something I've ever really paid attention to."

"Profit and service," Primrose repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I'd have thought those go hand-in-hand."

Meera laughed at Primrose's look. "Then you've never met an unscrupulous merchant. Any other questions?"

Primrose felt the presence before she heard the sound of approaching footsteps trudging through the sand; Meera's hand clenched her spear as Primrose twisted around, the hilt of a blade already grasped.

An amused voice floated towards them. "I take it I'm not allowed here?"

"Molam." Primrose sheathed her blade, standing up to greet him. "I thought you'd be eating with the Mursa."

"He's holding a meeting with the mursashi. I was invited to listen, but I wanted to check in on the two of you." Molam walked up, accepting a bowl of stew from Kalle. He sat down, nodding politely to Meera. "Thank you, Meera. For keeping Kalle and Primrose safe. This is their first time in the Endless Sands."

Meera acknowledged Molam with a nod in return. "It's nothing much. Your friends are taking it well for their first time. Much better than I expected, if I were to be honest."

Primrose noticed Molam's slight pause before he answered. "My friends are quite adaptable." Molam sniffed at the stew, then changed the subject, "This smells wonderful, Kalle. I assume you cooked?"

"Why do you assume it's Kalle?" Primrose poked his bowl with her spoon. "It could have been me or Meera."

Molam spooned some stew into his mouth, chewed, then swallowed before answering. "Definitely Kalle. He thickens the stew before adding the meat to keep it tender. You prefer adding the meat from the start, which makes it more tough and chewy. You also add spices to your stew while Kalle keeps his purposefully bland so we can season it to our preferred tastes. I don't know anything about Meera's cooking style," he said almost apologetically to Meera while reaching for the salt and spices. "But I would love to try her stew sometime." A pause, then, "why are you all looking at me?"

Primrose raised an eyebrow, but Kalle spoke first. "I didn't know you paid so much attention to the differences between my cooking and Primrose's."

The campfire crackled loudly before Molam responded with a look of surprise. "What else am I supposed to notice when you two were kind enough to take turns cooking all the way here?"

"I believe Kalle is surprised because you're always focused on your notes during dinnertime." Primrose smiled at Molam, taking the salt pouch back from him. She glanced at her stew, then pinched some more salt into her bowl before restringing the pouch and tossing it back to Kalle. "At least, that's my thought. It never seemed like you even looked at your food between bites."

"But that's just reading. We don't eat with our eyes," Molam replied with a tone of confusion. "We chew with our mouths. It's not like I'm looking at the meat to see if it's tender."

Meera laughed out loud at the look on Primrose's face and Kalle's dumbfounded expression, a far more hearty laugh than before.

Primrose recovered first. "So then. Have you gained insight into what Mursa Allyce's greatest desire is?"

Molam's face lit up briefly, then he seemed to rein in whatever he was about to say. "Somewhat. I've been learning about her predecessor, Mursa Synbad."

Kalle belched. "Sorry, not on purpose," he apologized to Primrose's glare, then he asked Molam, "how will learning about Mursa Synbad tell you anything? I thought this was Mursa Allyce you're trying to understand?"

"I am also curious." Meera leaned in, pouring some water into her empty bowl and swirling it around. After several moments, she brought it to her mouth and drank the mixture, making a light face at the blander taste. The dishes needed to be cleaned, but the water could not go to waste.

The answer didn't come until Molam finished two spoonfuls of stew. "I've learned all I can about Mursa Allyce from the mursashu. While that's given me some thoughts about who she is — and therefore what she might want — there's still several answers to choose from. Learning about Mursa Synbad might tell me much about the person who would choose Mursa Allyce as his successor. I'm hoping to understand what he thought was most important, because I'm certain he saw that in her too."

"That… oddly makes sense. I think," Meera began, then paused. After a moment, she continued, "I think it's worth pursuing since you've never met her."

Primrose saw it in Meera's pause, but Molam spoke up first. "Meera," he said in a relaxing tone, "your Mursa's actions denote a belief that I'll be in the unfortunate position of needing to wrangle together all three Mursa once we reach Oasis. I appreciate all the help your caravan can provide; and I am sure you'll come to understand I am not the forgetful type."

Meera's face stiffened. Primrose winced.

"Mursa Shang might enjoy dancing with you," Meera told Molam coolly, "but I don't appreciate needing to think between the lines or any of that nonsense. There's a reason I chose a mursasho that is more straightforward. Now, I'd appreciate being spoken to with words meaning directly what you want so I'm not eternally wondering if you're trying to pull a scam on me." She leaned forward at Molam. "Perhaps you'd like to try again by saying what's on your mind."

Kalle laughed — belched then apologized — and immediately resumed laughing, slapping his knee. "You should look at your face, Molam," the Northerner choked out between sprees of laughter. Even Primrose brought a hand to her mouth, hiding her grin. "Did you see that, Primrose? Molam looked like he was choking on a fishbone!"

Molam made a face at the two of them, then nodded to Meera. She gave him a look of I'm waiting, to which Molam grinned. "I'm sorry for holding you at arm's length," he apologized to the mursashu rider. "And I do hope you'll share what you know with me."

"Lower your expectations," she warned. "I only ever saw both Mursa Shang and Mursa Allyce from afar."

"I think I'm close, I just need opinions that aren't my own," Molam explained, setting down his empty bowl. "It was wonderful, Kalle," he said, then turned back to Meera and Primrose. "I'd show you my notes, but I'll just summarize what I've learned so I don’t waste your time. Mursa Synbad chose Mursa Allyce because…"

The flames crackled as Kalle cleared out the cooking ware, the three of them listening to Molam as he explained who he believed Mursa Allyce to be.