“Only an idealistic fool would see the beauty of the desert and not see the danger within it. For the deadliest of poisons comes from the brightest of flowers.” Hakim Bruveli extracts from the thorns of a rose.

“Lord Maveri, you must see this”

They sat in one of his private studies. The walls were thick with heavy drapes of burgundy that complemented the set of orange seats. Sunstones sat placed against the walls and inlaid with copper and gold. Only two guards waited outside. A servant had come earlier, Winsel had been his name. He had brought them refreshments which Maveri thanked him for. The refreshments were kafi, Maveri found himself drinking it more often than chai. For since his return from the Menka Yaeno hadn’t graced them with his famous chai. The sultan himself missing the herbal infusions, made by his hand specifically. He’d had chai made by the servants, but it just wasn’t the same. It had the sultan craving for more of Yaeno’s. Of course, he could ask his son to make him a cup every once in a while. And Yaeno would most definitely oblige but for some reason Maveri’s instincts told him not to. The man didn’t, trusting in the one thing that had stayed steady throughout his years, his instincts. The sultan took the scrolls handed to him. Reading it once before throwing it into the flame and watching it burn. It was as it feared.

“Who else knows?”

The lady of crows laughed mirthlessly; the sound reminiscent of a crow calling out as it circled a soon to be corpse from above. Maveri knew she was thorough. Sufri would leave no stone unturned and was a master at erasing any traces her crows left behind. She wouldn’t, couldn’t have raised any flags. Only they best would’ve been able to discern what she knew. That is if they even started looking.

“You know the answer to that, lord. My crows were thorough. There questions discrete, any loose ends will be feeding the vultures by now or lost to the desert.”

Maveri nodded, it was no doubt that the Lady of crows meant that. Blooding her hands so her sultans would stay clean. Even after decades working together, she still believed his hands had to stay clean. It was too bad though that his hands too dripped with crimson as well as ink. What was another droplet to a hand dripping with crimson.

“I wish you didn’t take Nesha’anan under your house. The words in that letter are damning. I’ve done my best. Eve with my intervention the truth will come out eventually. Maybe not in our time. But your house will pay nonetheless.”

Her words were true, it pained him to think that the cost would be paid by either of his children. Worst yet lest it happen when Maveri wasn’t there to guide them through it. But the price was worth it. A lifetime ago when he’d been just another lordling of the sands. In the desert he’d travelled, past menka and doom, past lyndworm and djinn. Deep into a land of ash and death, where even the sands of the desert refused to reach. There he found a woman her eyes covered by a simple cloth, tears of black dripping down her face. She was woman borne of the sands of myth and legend. Hidden by the chocking ash. A seer she was. To find her it took him a journey that had cost him all of his guards. People he had known since he was but a lordling of a backwater city. After days of walking in the harsh het of the second sibling he had collapsed. He awaited death, for his life-fire to be returned to the sands. But it was not death that came to him. Like the forming of a mirage, she had appeared robes still, hanging limp around her frame. His vision dimmed as her hand reached out to touch him.

He had awoken to find himself in a clay hut. The sounds of chickens and bleating of a goat. An impossibility in a land where only ash existed. He stood finding the woman siting opposite him. A fire burned between them. Maveri found his heart in his throat. He groped around eyes still on the flame that acted as a boundary between him and the seer. His fingers clasped the hilt a blade that hadn’t been there moments ago. The sultan recoiled as though bitten by a viper. As soon as the blade fell from his grasp it disappeared. A tremor run through Maveri. He had trouble remembering the weapon that had been in his hand only moments ago. As though the moment he let go of it, it no longer existed. Already he was having trouble remembering if it had been a blade or dagger. All the while the woman watched him with eyes unseeing.

She rocked from side to side, as though listening to sounds that weren’t there. Maveri strained his eyes to listen. He wished he hadn’t. The lordling heard whispers, whispers that started light but grew once they noticed he was listening. Like his attention had them excited, they whispered to him terrible secrets. Of things his soul recoiled at, things he could not understand lest his soul’s break. Their volume grew the whispers starting at his periphery, growing in intensity the longer he listened. There were dozens no hundreds of voices. Some deep, some high pitched and some just chittering screeches. They all talked in unison, they spoke over each other, they spoke in as one and as many. It was too much. Soon the hundreds of voices were screaming, the words like nails against his soul. Maveri shook, his body raked with waves of fear. A pressure entered the room, suffocating him as an icy hand gripped his heart. Maveri couldn’t breathe, he couldn- darkness clawed at his vision. The hut, how could he have missed it. If he had known what it was Maveri would come looking for it. The hut, it was no longer a hut but a p-

enough

The words were spoken soft upon his ears. Though they rung clear, the air shivered against it. No, it hadn’t been words he’d heard. It- it was a will. A will had been impressed, a concept. A concept his feeble mind could only understand as enough. Like a hand, gentle as it smoothed out a stray wrinkle on a robe. The whispers retreated leaving quicker than when they came. Along with the pressure, as though as none of it had been there. The hut returned to being just a hut and not a-

With only the sounds of a fire crackling between them. Though Maveri’s heart stilled, it didn’t take with it the sense of danger. Maveri’s instincts didn’t scream for him to run. For he knew deep down that there was no where to run.

The wom- no the thing in the shape of a woman had stopped moving. Maveri could feel its full attention upon him. The cloth covering its eyes shifted as though it was fully opening its eyes. Its eyes snapping open then, looking right at him, right through him. That night it gave him his prophecy. It told him of the day he would die, and everything he would achieve before that. He would become a great man, and a leader of the people. He would gain riches and followers. And when the time came, he would nurture a blade that would break and its metal used to forge something greater, something lesser. Pain and suffering will be the whetstone to sharpen it That the blade would be forge from the pieces around those around. That the blade would be one of those under his house, that he would love the blade. The blade that was no longer a blade would be all that stood against the calamities. That it will reap from the people like a sickle to wheat. Either serving its purpose or breaking with the rest of them.

Maveri was released, with a promise to himself to never tell anyone of the prophecy. Not even his wife. Returning to the city of Mogo, House Maveri built its empire. Building a house that stood with the greats. He grew fat with his riches and slowly gathered nesha, the so-called blades of the forge under his banner. Doing the impossible by gaining their loyalty, for a blade’s loyalty was first and foremost to the forge that built it. It was in blissful ignorance that Maveri believed that the blade might not be one he loved. That the seer had prophesied wrong. It wasn’t until his daughter left for the forges did the sultan almost hear the dreadful whispers once more. Even when she returned unclaimed by the forge like one he loved before. Maveri tasted ash on his lips for his loved his daughter, one who had become a blade of the forge. For if Ramali was to be the blade of destiny then Maveri knew for she would only know a life of suffering. She would be used, broken and discarded if she did not fit the moulds the sands of fate built. It was bitter still when she returned with that young slave who had saved his life. For Maveri could see the love Ramali had for him. The fate seemed set in his cruelty for Maveri came to care deeply for all those in his care. This had been the last request of his wife, hopping to save him from the misery her death would bring. Unbeknownst to her that she placing on him a harsher fate. In time Maveri would come to love that boy Tento. Sadness had come to fill his heart knowing that he too could be destined for pain.

So, the man quietly, tried to cheat destiny. Maveri showered those close to him in luxuries in the hopes of dulling the hidden blade and making it useless. He sent the ghasan away as often as he could and when she was gone, he would rarely send them on any mission of importance. It had been difficult at first, but the sultan was a patient man and worked with the guile of a viper.

Other nesha he made sharp, sending them of to battle after battle. Securing trade routes, clearing whole bandit tribes and anything that would be a threat. Loosing many but those that didn’t die were true blades of the forge. The forge had been watching him and was pleased with the blades that had grown sharp. Soon they sent him more blades to sharpen. He continued sending nesha to other cities and to his last brother. Secretly dulling the blades of his main house. So the sultan hoped against hope that they would be the ones and not his daughter nor his sons. In time his fear dribbled away. The nightmares of the hut grew less and the sultan comfortable. Believing he’d done it. Alas the fates are master weavers and know how the winds will shape the sands. It was the sultan awoke, in the middle of the night. He’d dreamt of whippers and a fire. Maveri knew something was terribly wrong. It was with no surprise when the servant came to him. In their cruelty they had returned to him a son maimed and a nesha injured. With news of a mission gone wrong. A mission if it had played any differently would’ve have cost him Ramali. It was then that the sultan knew he could not cheat destiny.

Though beaten the sultan would not surrender, he would play to his destiny in his terms. Gathering those with potential those who could ease the burden of fate upon his house. Thus, it was why the sultan would take such great risks. Welcoming a nesha’anan who walked with the axemans blade hovering over her head into his home. Maveri prayed that she and the others he gathered over the years would be enough.

Maveri had been too deep in thought, the lady crows looked to time her green eyes seeing everything.

“We do this not for ourselves old friend but for those who come after us”

She smiled, the grin looking bitter on her old face.

“I’ll trust in your wisdom. Like always”

“Thank you, dear friend.”

“What of Khevere, I know you and the priests of the forge don’t see eye to eye. But your brother sent him for a reason. The man is brilliant.”

To hear the words leave the lady of crow’s mouth was a slight surprise to Maveri. For such words were never given freely. It had been years since he’d heard his dear friend speak praise of someone.

“His idea to acquire a political hostage was brilliant. By playing our hand we secure us someone of minor importance without antagonising those of higher standing too much. The sultan of Ginsali hath forgotten how far the reach of house Maveri is. Already he or someone in his house has been lining the pockets of those looking to take our favour trade routes. There was a blatant attack on-.”

“Peace, Kila we will do as we must. At the least do you have any news that isn’t as dire.”

“Well, here are the recent exploits of your daughter.”

A smile crept along his lips as he read the second scroll. Smiling as he read the trouble she got into. She truly was her mother’s daughter.

***

Was it considered a holy mandate, if a priest of somewhat high standing asked one to kidnap someone. And if it is, does it absolve you of the sin and any you commit on your way to achieving said mandate. Yaeno sighed he would ask the hearthstroker when they returned. For now it would be a greater mystery left to the sands and dunes. Though when he learns of an answer Yaeno would do his best to keep it from Ramali. Lest she use the guise of holy mandates to do some otherwise unholy acts.

Still a part of him was excited it would be his first time, visiting the city to the west. The city of pleasures and sin where one could buy and sell just about anything. Even one’s souls if they asked around the right crowds. Was it truly possible to sell one’s soul or was it against the teaching of the hearths to batter with something that doesn’t quiet belong to you. Another question to ask the hearthstrokers.

They would first travel south to a port city of Profeni under house Maveri. There they will take a ship across the sands cutting a trip that would take months to about a few weeks. It would be Yaeno’s first time on those as well, he was dully exited.

Of course, the excitement was sullied by a touch of nervousness. For again this mission was without the ghasan. She had other work to do she had to stay here with the sultan. For his brother was coming. They were giving him one more chance and this made him nervous. Why wouldn’t it after Yaeno’s last fiasco. Still the excitement overpowered the nervousness. By a lot. The dancers of Ginsali were notorious for their graceful and suggestive movements.

Sadly, the nesha couldn’t bring their draken with them. They had to be discreet, as per Khevere’s request and the sultans’ orders. Nothing screamed I’m a nesha like ridding a giant lizards, that could de-limb you in moments.

Yaeno made his way to the stables to say one more goodbye to Majo. He will miss her dearly. In his hands was a sack of raw meat. A few treats for Majo of course. Yaeno had caught an actza lizard specifically for her. He had given instructions to the stable master to give her some every few days. She could even sneak a few extra if Majo behaved. He wasn’t the only one every other nesha leaving was here as well as a few others. Nesha from the neighbouring city had been brought in. He passed Ekno a tall mountain of a man. When Enko fought it was a sight to behold. With a hammer as tall as Yaeno and thick mail. Outside of battle he was a quiet man who preferred his own company. That didn’t stop Yaeno from befriending him when they first met. They would sometimes read books together enjoying the silence. Yaeno had given him free rein to help himself to as many of his books as he wanted. Yaeno patted Enko’s shoulder affectionately as he passed, the man simply nodded a smile on his lips. Yaeno had missed him dearly.

Another new face was Inkah who he avoided like the plague. She was quick and light on her feet. Daggers were her weapon of choice. The woman had this odd fixation of always trying to beat him. Yaeno was yet to figure out if she truly despised him or if this was a game to her. One of the scars on his body was a gift from her. Though he would rather forget how he got it. Heat rising to his cheeks, Yaeno used the back entrance. There were a few other nesha though Yaeno’s eyes glossed over them as he went straight for Majo. She was in a pen. Her amber eyes shut, chest rising ever so slightly as she slept. Yaeno smiled warmth filling his chest, she had a few scars along her body. But apart from that she looked so at peace. Her tail thumped against the floor as Yaeno neared. Even in her sleep Majo could tell when her treats were near. Seeing her this way, her tongue lolling to the side, he couldn’t help but feel just how much he loved her. Majo had been with him since he’d proved himself at the forge. Not only that but she had saved his life on several occasions. The day she died was the day he died too.

Yaeno clicked his tongue twice. Majo’s head shot up. Before he could so much as move, she lunged at him. Dragging Yaeno down to the straw covered floor. She rubbed her head against him occasionally stopping to lick Yaeno’s face. Yaeno laughed trying to push her off. She was heavy but what was that to nesha. With a playful roar, he grabbed her sides and rolled her off him. Her scales were warm to the touch. He laughed as she tried to pin him down. But Yaeno wasn’t having that he quickly rolled to his knees before she could get a proper hold on him. Though it seems he didn’t need to. Majo’s attention had turned to the sack of treats he carried.

Majo sniffed at it trying to get the bag open. Yaeno laughed, snatching back with a snake made from sand. He kept a pile of it by the corner. Majo let out a disappointed whine as the serpent carried the bag to him.

“No Majo, you can’t have all of them all at once”

Yaeno chuckled when Majo sat on her hind legs, her tail swishing from side to side as she moved the straw around. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. It just too cute, Yaeno could help but oblige.

Majo slurped up the bloody piece of meat, Yaeno handed her. The second one was swallowed whole as well, long before it left his hands. Her long tongue was rough like sandpaper, licked his fingers clean. They spent a moment like that in the musty air of the stable. Light filtering through the silts in the window, casting golden rays into the room. Dust danced in the air, between the rays. Kicked up by Majo’ joyous movements. The moment felt serene, holy even. Yaeno held out his hand letting his fingers cut through the golden rays. The light felt warm to his scarred hands. Yaeno had a good life that was no doubt. Young Tento would be proud. The moment was abrupted when Majo thinking there were more treats jump up. Taking his whole hand into her mouth. The razor-sharp teeth tender against his scarred flesh. Yaeno never feared that Majo would bite him. It would be so easy for her. He’d seen her teeth tear through flesh with ease. Her slender tongue slithered over his fingers, searching. Finding no juicy actza flesh within, she spat it out with a betrayed whine.

His hands were dripping with drool. Yet Yaeno smiled at her, nonetheless. It was time to go. He walked out of the pen and Majo tried to follow. Placing his hand atop her head, he gently nudged her back. She understood immediately and still she fought to follow him. Yaeno clicked his tongue though he wasn’t irritated.

“Where has this stubborn streak come from” He asked the drake. “I hope Rami hasn’t been teaching you any bad habits.”

Majo looked at up at him pouting. With a smile and a flourish of the wrist Yaeno produce one last piece of actza. Majo’s eyes lit up and sat on her hunches. He gave her the last piece throwing it and watching her snatch it from the air. Yaeno turned to leave.

“I have to go Majo, behave. And don’t rile Yek’r up while we are away.” He said before leaving.

Yaeno stepped out and into the hot midday sun. Finding a trough nearby he washed his hands. Cleaning Majo’s drool from it.

The sultans’ halls were a riot of movement, servants ducking in and out of hallways and rooms. Prepping for the influx of nesha. As well as a few more guests. The sultans’ brother was traveling from the east. It was a shame that he would arrive by the time Yaeno would be gone. He was yet to meet the man and wanted to see the difference between the twin siblings. Any how it was about time Yaeno had his final meeting with the ghasan. It was time she told him everything.

They met in the ghasans study. Yaeno was one of the first to arrive followed by Subiri and Jana. As per her usual Ramali was the last to arrive. Arrayed around him was his sisters and brothers standing at the ready. All except Nimue who was still in her lab. Now that the necessary bits of her lab were running, Yaeno saw even less of her. The sultan had her making elixirs and potions alike. The sultan was making use of his investment.

Ramali for the first time since he could remember was standing at attention. Feet firmly planted and her hands tucked behind her back. It would have been perfect, if not for the biggest shit eating grin split her lips. Ramali was positively beaming at the ghasan, almost leaning forward as she waited for the ghasan to speak to them. The ghasan to her credit wasn’t humouring Ramali. Ignoring her grin as she handed Yaeno a scroll. He cracked open the seal, with the heredity of house Maveri. The leaf of a date tree. Scanning through the document. Yaeno’s eyebrows shot up as he read the scroll once more. That was enough to get Ramali’s attention breaking her stance she stood behind Yaeno looking over his shoulder. Before barking out a laugh and smiling ever brighter at the ghasan. Who only scowled. He handed the scroll to Subiri who read it together with Jana before handing it back to the ghasan.

“These orders are from the sultans’ hand himself?”

“Yes, you will be leaving tonight.”

“So let me get this straight ghasan. The sultan wants us not only to kidnap a high value target. But we are to receive no help from the crows. Spend weeks if not months preparing whilst avoiding anything that may lead this back to baba. And we’ll be using secret identities.”

Her smile had only grown wider. Both Jana and Subiri looked amused. She turned to Yaeno giving him and exaggerated bow so low it had her hair touching the floor. She extended one her right arm to the side and spoke.

“I am at your service Lord Efeko, Bastard of house Kanofe. Your wish is my command.” Ramali said mocking him.

She had increased the pitch of her voice. Playing at what she believed to be meek. Even with her face hidden by her hair. Yaeno could hear the glee in her voice. Yaeno wasn’t having it, rapping his knuckles across her skull. Ramali let out an exaggerated cry falling to her knees and holding her hands up. Still with her eyes planted on the ground.

“Mercy lord! this humble retainer of yours pleads for forgiveness.” She bemoaned.

Subiri barked out a laugh, Jana was grabbing at sounds in mirth. Though no sound left her lips. Even the ghasan herself was humouring this. Though no smile or joy reached Moraia’s eyes, the scowl on her lips was softer.

“Enough.” Moraia said “Be on your way lest I sent someone else.”

They left together, Ramali bowing once more to Yaeno, even Subiri himself inclined his head slightly. Yaeno’s shoulders slumped as they shuffled out of the room. Jana patting his shoulder comfortingly. At least someone was on his sid-

[“Chin up mi’lord”] She signed.

Treacherous bastards the lot of them.

Before they left Yaeno met with Maveri once more in the garden it would be a long time before he saw him again. The sultan sat by his usual spot, on the table was a small bundle wrapped in leather. Seeing his eyes the Sultan smile, nodding to Yaeno to take the bundle.

“You will be leaving soon my son. I have something for you.”

Yaeno unwrapped the bundle finding a dagger as long as his forearm in a leather sheathe. He pulled it free, the blade letting out a soft hiss. It was light, the hand was made of a dark leather though it was the blade itself that had his eyes widening. It was made of pale ivory material. One he had trouble naming, though it felt vaguely familiar.

“It is the armour you broke off from the minion of Akum. Ramali had retrieved it, before having it made into a blade.”

The edge was sharp, Yaeno remembered how difficult it had been to remove it.

“Take care my boy. And may the sibling keep you in their sight.”

The port city was located on one of the most hostile side of the desert. The sands here were ‘different’, deeper, nastier. Their depths were a host to wonders and monstrosities. Lyndworms lived here lesser cousins of the great wyrms. Still dangerous in their own right. They were miles long, large enough to swallow three ships whole. From what he knew there were five of them in total. The ports city of Profeni was beautiful, the building more artistic and painted a riot of colours. No two buildings were the same. The streets were large, cutting in and between buildings. They rich with movement with hundreds of different people filling them. Though it wasn’t too packed. Carts pulled by oxen and carrying crates of good, cut through the middle. Camels carrying people as well as guards, with short and powerful bows on their back. There were half a dozen after every block. Preventing any trouble.

The people were just as colourful as the buildings, where long flowing robes, and pointed shoes. Some wore trousers reaching up two their stomachs and wrapped with a tight cloth. Others wore short sleeved shirts, with leather cords on their necks. There some many people from different walks of life. The light skinned onoh of the eastern dunes, the koraki with their sable skin of the north who were tall and both the women and the men had shaved heads. There were westerners like him the fenefe. There were even men and women from further north the kerafi with pale tanned skin. They wore piercings trailing from their nose to their ears. There were so many different people that Yaeno had trouble keeping track of them.

The ‘lord’ and his retainers spent a day in the city. They met with the ghasans second Gesano. He was a fenefe, with a broken noise and wide smile. His hair hung in thin braids reaching down to his neck, with beads hanging off some. There were grey hairs in those small braids. Gesano spent the day preparing a ship for them, as well as getting them some documents that would help with their new identities. Gesano showed them the sites of the city, statues of old their stones weathered and chipped, the temple of the third its torches ever burning. Lastly, he took them to his favourite café. The kafi was strong and bitter and served in a small glass. Jana seemed to be enjoying them the most, sipping her Kafi and letting out a please sigh. Ramali almost chocked and to the dismay of Gesano she put almost blasphemous amounts of honey to hers. Subiri followed suit adding a smaller amount of honey to his. Only slightly less blasphemous.

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Yaeno preferred chai but he wasn’t going to offend his host. So, when Gesano was distracted, Yaeno added a teaspoon of honey to his own cup. He wasn’t quick enough. Gesano loudly prophesied that he was never taking them to another café again. To Jana’s pleasure Gesano promised to buy her some to take home. Gesano the angel that he had ordered them a desert that went well with the kafi. It was made of cheese cooked till golden and crispy and served in a sweet syrup with crushed nuts of the top. He called it Kunefe. Ramali loved it, though for Jana he ordered her another Kafi. Which had her smiling. True to his word he bought her bag of coffee beans and a small grinder.

Gesano later hosted them at his home. The house was sun bleached green, with orange highlights. It was medium sized. The inside was beautiful with succulents, thick brown carpets lining the floor and lanterns hang around. There metalwork carved and beautiful that turned the shadows into a flowing pattern. A wall had a beautifully paint family portrait. Two children, Gesano’s daughters ran around the house. Asking questions and taking Ramali through her paces. Which Ramali seemed not to mind. One was called Kakili the other Makili. They had a unending torrent of questions to ask as well as little trinkets they wanted to show Ramali.

They met Gesano’s husband Akri a stout man who made the spiciest of goat stews. Which had Yaeno reaching for his goats’ milk with every bite. The children looked unfazed by the searing spice mix. By the end of the meal Yaeno’s was dripping with sweat. His nose runny. Jana and Subiri chatted away with Akri. Yaeno caught the words ‘secret recipe’ which had Akri chuckling. Not doubt the two wanted the man’s spice mix, no doubt eager to make the meal again so as to torture Yaeno once more. The worst part was the fact apart from the chilli, the meal had been superb. The goat was soft, the rice delicious. Yaeno found himself wanting to eat more yet couldn’t without downing a quarter of his goat milk first. The children laughed which Yaeno found even more mortifying. Gesano smiled taking in the rich atmosphere in his home. Yaeno could tell how much the man loved his family. Looking around Yaeno almost wondered would this be his life in the future settling down with a family. Finding a suitable balance between the duties of a nesha as well as a family life. Yaeno wouldn’t mind it.

After dinner Yaeno helped cleared the dishes. He helped wash them with Jana and the kids. Which turned to an excessively soapy affair. It was Yaeno’s fault for trusting Maliki with the soaking process. Which had Kakili giving Jana a goatee of soap, whilst he was destructed. Akri soon chased them away, when he found no dishes complete. He finished the job with Subiri. Who took the conscription with grace.

Once finished, Akri took the children up to the bed and bid them all goodnight. For he had business in the archives tomorrow and wanted an early start. Gesano brought out drinks, Boza a fermented drink with a thick constituency. It was sour to the taste and tangy, Gesano claimed this one was different from others made in the city. Made with barley and left to ferment longer. Gesano planned to start making his own and planned to send some to the sultan once a ‘worthy batch’ was made. They sat around the table, chatting. Gesano, refused to talk about their mission claiming he could smell the lady of crows’ hand in this. And believed the less he knew the better.

Instead, they talked about his past and the life he’d lived as an arm of the sultan. Gesano like a minority of the nesha had no love for the forge. Understanding the need for some of its lessons but not at peace with it cruelty. Subiri agreed though the rest didn’t. After two more cups of boza, they went to their rooms exhausted. Yaeno would be sharing one with Subiri while Jana and Ramali shared their own. It was after they all left when the ghasans second stopped him. His eyes had a hard look to them, he reached out laying an arm against Yaeno’s bicep.

“It is not a sin to bite the hand that feeds you, when instead of hand they bring you a blade. Remember that young Yaeno.”

Taken aback Yaeno looked to the man.

“The sultan would ne-“

The older mans eyes turned soft at the mention of the sultan.

“The sultan has never bared a blade at us and never will. It is the forge I speak of. Just keep an open mind.”

With that the older man left, patting Yaeno’s shoulder affectionately before leaving.

In the morning, they were sent off. With that their journey begun.

Yaeno breath caught in his chest. He’d never seen the so call ships. He’d heard tales from Eta of a world where the water stretched from horizon to horizon. That there were ships that could sail from land to land. It seemed impossible but now ridding one of these ships almost made him believe.

He'd asked one of the crew about the ships. Their bottoms were flat with canoe shaped edges, that stopped them from sinking too deep into the sands. There bottoms regularly ‘greased’ with an alchemical product that helped them glide through the sand instead of into it. Though not all the way. They had huge sails that caught the winds and pulled them forth. This ship was called Lakeno ‘fortunes favour’ and regularly delivered dates, and silks to the city of pleasure. The captain was a friend of the sultans. She was also known to sometimes carry goods that didn’t always make their way into official records.

As per the hearthstrokers words was of ‘utmost importance’. Yaeno had applied his ‘screen’ a concoction made my Nimue herself that would hide their forgemarks. This was one of the many alchemical brews she’d started concocting on the sultan’s coinage. Many experimental with little to no testing. Nimue had stressed the fact that they should refrain from letting any ‘foreign substances’ touch said serum or ‘unforeseen consequences’ may take place. Nimue said this with a smile, as though playing him or curious to see if these foreign substances actually did anything. What these foreign substances were Yaeno had no clue. Which really had him reconsidering whether he really should be putting this screen on his face every morning.

The trip was mostly uneventful. Yaeno would spend time speaking with the crew. Cementing his new identity and practising it. Though many gave him the cold shoulder whilst some were outright cold. Yaeno was a noble’s bastard, so it wasn’t all too surprising. The specific noble he was tied to was a nobles house at the bottom the barrel. He held a minor town House Maveri had loose ties to. The man, Karefo was an unfaithful drunk who slept around. Already he had many bastards who he killed if any tried to make a claim. Giving credibility to their lie.

It was the captain who was more amiable to him. They spoke and their connection seemed to blossom. Oakfara told him stories of her life running a ship and the wonders she’d seen and the ports she’d been to. The story that Yaeno liked the most was on Fearmera a lyndworm that had come to terrorise the port city Profeni. It had followed a storm preventing anyone to spot it before it was too late. Parts of the city walls were destroyed, and many guards lost their lives. In a daring act that cost Oakfara half of her crew and all but one of her spotter ships. She drew the attention of the Lyndworm away from the city and to the outskirts of the desert. They had delivering lantern oil and emptied their goods onto a support ship that followed them, before sending it of crashing it against the lyndworm and setting part of it ablaze. The sultan had rewarded her and the reminder of her crew. Giving her a lucrative contact to one of his trade routes whilst replacing the ship lost and the good. With a nice bonus on the top. The story had taken the mirth from her eyes. Their conversation ended their, leaving Yaeno to digest what she had told him.

It was the next day. Sometime after a breakfast of dried meat and hardy bread with Subiri. Did Yaeno get the chance to see an actual lyndworm.

“Come see this Efeko”

The captain strained the last word. That was his alias, they both knew it was a fake name. Though each for varied reasons. Slowly over time Yaeno had planted the seeds of his false personality. Often ‘slipping up’ on key details. She didn’t know who he actually was. Only that he was someone with money and a lordling hiding from their past. She would indulge him. Following Oakfara, Yaenos’ throat was caught in his chest once more.

The lyndworm in question was huge, even from a mile away he could see it short of a full kilometre long. It swum through the sands, a living dune that reshaped parts of the desert as it moved. Dunes collapsed and formed anew in its wake. Every once in a while, it would surface it lanky sinew taunt arms rising from the sand and pulling it outwards. It would surf atop the sands for a moment. Its long and muscular tail wiping about. Its scales were dull, whole swaths of them missing along some of its parts. It looked to the ship, it heads nothing but an armoured skull, its mouth was arrow shaped and had wide slits along it. Some would open spewing out air and sand alike. Yaeno got the sense that it was looking to ship, even though he couldn’t see any eyes on them.

Somewhat worried Yaeno turned to the crew. There had been tension until a green flare shot of from the distance as a spotter from the east drew near. Some of crew shook their head, letting out a sigh. They returned to their work soon after. He caught the word ‘Ifrar’ muttered a few times. The captain was looking at him a smile on her slender lips. A spotter with their narrow ship road out to the lyndworm. Once close one of them struck flare that bellowed a blue smoke. They pulled of ahead of the lyndworm. The lyndworm sent out a sound like a low brass horn. The desert shook, the sand vibrating. Even from here the sound was loud. The beast turned from them swimming into the sands and heading off following the blue smoke. A few heartbeats passed before he turned to the captain.

“It didn’t attack?”

“Yeah, some of them do while others don’t. We don’t know why, since every lyndworm is different. Some scholar tried to study them. Ended up dead of course but some of his papers survived. Claims they are natural and that’s why their all different. Some attack ships others don’t, some eat and other don’t. Ifrar here one of the calmest. It isn’t hard to draw him away from the ships. The spotter would let her chase them for a few miles. Before Ifrar either got tired of the chase or the spotters outpaced her. Rarely does she attack ships. Sands, I think I’ve heard more stories of her fighting other lyndworms than ships. Don’t ask me the credibility of the stories, most of these were just a drunkard’s tales.”

Another spotter pulled up close Yaeno was able to get a better look at them. The ships were small, with sails large and triangular, the ship itself narrow with two people manning it. Both had scarfs wrapping their heads and visors covering their eyes made of an animal bone. They each had harpoons with chains on them, and quivers full javelins. Their tips serrated. They told the captain that no other lyndworm was spotted, before pushing off.

“They’re our spotters usually, the spot storms, bandits and any manner of beasts that could be a danger. Giving us warning long before they have a chance at nearing the ship. If its beasties they’re the ones who draw them away or fight them. If its bandits they use the javelins, if it’s something worth catching or recovering the use the harpoons. The deserts full of wonders and theses fine boys and girls know it.”

Yaeno was coming to like the captain spending any free time he had listening to her stories. She even taught him a game, it was a game of wits. Where one person claimed to be one thing and the other would counter by claiming to be something that could either escape the thing or defeat it. It would end when the opponent could not come up with a counter.

They played Yaeno coming to find the woman imaginative as well as cunning. When Yaeno claimed to be a sokari viper, venomous and patient, Oakfara chose to be a desert mouse nimble and quick footed. When Yaeno claimed to be a desert storm, all engulfing and blinding. Oakfara claimed to be a burrow mole, deep and tunnel finding. They played this game till the afternoon. Neither willing to give up before a commotion pulled them away from their game. There was a red streak that shot up from the desert exploding into a red cloud. The captain cursed standing from their games. Crew members rushed from below deck, some carrying crates below deck while others came up with ropes. Tying down what they could. There was fear in the air, they looked panicked, he heard some let out a small prayer.

From the distance Yaeno saw a sporters ship speeding towards them carving and turning through the sand. It was in a hurry cutting through the sands, avoid any protruding rocks. A brown line was forming along the horizon. The nesha came to stand next to him and watched as the ship neared. The spotter was helped aboard Lakeno. The orange robes he wore, covered him from head to toe, showing no skin. The clothes were wrapped tightly along his ankles, wrists and waist. Their clothes were covered in sand, and it fell of them with each gesture they made. Growing even more agitated as the spoke with the captain. The crew had surrounded them the captain sent a few off. To the portside Yaeno could see a spotters return. Looking to either side of the ship he saw more of them return. It started with one ship, then three, later all five. Soon all had returned gliding next to the Lakeno.

A harsh wind tugged at Yaeno’s clothes. The intensity surprising him. After a few more orders the captain sent them off and back into the desert. From her pocket she produced an interesting object of brass. With crystals on both ends. It was as long as his middle finger and its diameter two thirds of that. She held it up to her eye, fiddling with it. Twisting one of its end before watching the horizons. Yaeno finally understood what he was seeing. In the distance a storm was blowing towards them stretching from horizon to horizon.

“I’m assuming the red flare isn’t good news?”

She grimaced.

“See the ships we have aint built for a storm of that calibre. Winds get strong enough, they’ll rip right through our sails. If they didn’t flip us over first. Lakeno can’t outrace the storm. She’s too heavy and we are carrying to many goods. The sporters can. The best we could probably do is ride ahead of it for an hours maybe two if we pushed out luck. Usually when the storm nears, we take down our sales and set down our anchors. And wait for the storm to pass by.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“See for yourself”

She handed him the contraption it was weighty and warm in his hands. Copying the captain, he held it up to his eye. The dust storm miles away came into focus. As though he was standing next to it. It was blurry but he could see some bits of it. The sands were…churning. Clouds big enough to engulf a city edged their way towards them. Swallowing swaths of the desert in mere moments. There was something that bothered him about the storm. Some of the sands were moving oddly. He tried to get a better look at it, but the image was hazy.

“Twist the lens at the front”

Twisting the lens Yaeno was shocked by the amount of clarity it brought. After fiddling with it for a bit Yaeno could see the storm clearer. Tension worked its way into his shoulders, for the briefest of moments he’d seen something move out of the sands. It was gargantuan, almost double the size of Ifrar, little over two miles. Its arm were more muscular they were as big as dunes. They tore through the sands, throwing it up. Yaeno could almost make out two tales twisting in the sand. It followed the storm twisting in it and disappearing as clouds of sand rolled towards then.

“Only a few beasties are known to follow storms like that”

“Ashes what’s the plan” He asked.

“Well, that depends. If thats fearmera were dead. If not and its Gonsa or Brockan and if we stay quiet, we may survive it. May.”

Though Oakfara’s voice was measured Yaeno could see how she gripped the railing harder. Her knuckles growing taunt, the veins buldging. Yaeno was only now noticing how rough her hands were. Yaeno held out the lense returning it her, but she shook her head. Letting him keep it. From the folds of her coat, Oakfara produced another of the devices this one painted black. It was a long quiet moment before Oakfara set down the lenses. Yaeno looked back into the lenses and was able to catch another look at the lyndworm as it surfaced before being swallowed by the storm once more. It had no scales its skin looking leathery and folded in some parts. It had wounds along its body, though one in particular stood out the most. From up its arm and onto its shoulders were burn marks.

“Ashes”

Yaeno wasn’t sure if it was Oakfara or he who spoke.

***

They sat in the messdeck where their meals were had. The room was cramped with only a handful of tables and seats nailed to the floor. In their hands were cups of tea with no milk. It was getting cooler as the storm drew nearer. The mood on the ship had turned sour the moment it was confirmed that Fearmera was the lyndworm in the storms. Arguments that turned to fights. Half of the crew had wanted to run and ‘abandon ship’ as Jana put it. Whilst the other half wanted to sink with Lakeno. Yaeno learnt they mostly consisted of her previous crew. Yaeno admired the loyalty though not many agreed with him. Which in turn led to knives been drawn, Oakfara had defused the situation before blood was spilt. A few actually turned mutinous stealing supplies and wondering of into the desert. Subiri described it as ‘killing yourself with few extra steps.’ Yaeno would have described it better but that didn’t any less true. It was death sentence leaving just before a storm of that magnitude crashes. If a ship couldn’t outrun it, what chance did they have on foot.

That had been the last straw for captain Oakfara. With tensions rising she separated the crew, the mutinous half being locked into the cabin. Whilst the said ‘loyalists’ being locked in the storage. The more outspoken elements of the mutinous being beaten and tide up. Oakfara seemed like the time of person who would’ve taken more…drastic measures, if it didn’t come with the risk of worsening the situation. They may be mutinous but many of them had sailed together for years. Though their bonds had grown strained at the moment it didn’t mean they had all together disappeared.

Yaeno could see how the current situation was waying on the woman. With her attentions elsewhere, Oakfara’s hand would reach out for her dagger. As though expecting to have to use it soon. The few times she noticed Oakfara would stop herself from completely grasping the dagger. Though the moments where she stopped herself were growing lesser with each passing minute. How long before she was forced to use it against those, she called friend. Fear brought out the worst in everyone. A cornered fox would gnaw off its own foot to escape a hunter’s trap. What were the bonds of friendship to their own lives, the sailors would think. How long until one of the loyalists found the idea of escaping more preferable than a painful death. How long until a few of the loyalists found themselves more amiable to the mutinous group. Yaeno knew he wasn’t the only one thinking this why else would the captains’ hand be drawn to her dagger so often. The clock was ticking and with-it Yaeno’s window of opportunity. Yaeno found his fingers drumming against the table. With a steady rhythm it eased the anxiousness somewhat.

Their current group consisted of Yaeno and his ‘retainers’, the captain, her first mate and one of the men from the spotter’s ship. He had returned a half hour later with confirmation that the beast in question was Fearmera. With scarf wrapping his head gone, Yaeno was able to get a better look. The man was onoh his face was gaunt the lines of it sharp, his eyes were narrow, and his teeth yellowed. His name was Kokah. He had an accent to him, some of the vowels he used was spoken oddly. The accent was eastern. At first Yaeno thought him to be a nice fellow, but with half the ship turning mutinous and their death drawing ever closer. Any hospitality evaporated. That didn’t stop Yaeno form eyeing the man’s visor. It was different from the ones he’d seen the others wear. Yaeno wanted it.

Oakfara’s second mate Makfone was a shorter woman stout and muscular with a large scar against her cheek. She was also missing an eyes. A simple brown cloth covering it. She’d barely spoken so Yaeno was yet to get a bead on her. Though she seemed like the stoic of sorts. Which had both the loyalists and mutinous sides listening to her. Yaeno could understand that it helped having something solid to lean on during trying times. The nesha were tense, each had their own way of showing it. Subiri kept his arms folded, frowning at no one particular. He spoken little during their discussions. Jana was watching everyone, her eyes always searching. That was the thing with Jana sometimes she would take a step back from the situation. Collecting and filling away information. She was a good listener, he’d seen her speak with the crew often using Subiri as a translator. It was Ramali who had Yaeno wincing whenever she spoke.

For the past half hour, they had been coming up with a plan. Though they had several interruptions for the spotter made his distaste for the ‘nobles’ clear. Ramali the diplomat she was, helped fan the flames. Throwing jibe after jibe at him. The final straw was when she offhandedly claimed that if Kokah had been a better spotter they would have seen the storm coming long before it did. That had the man close to lunging across the table. Yaeno put a stop to it then, threatening to have Jana gag her if Ramali kept this up. Which only had her grin widening. Sands of course she would enjoy the notion. Next time he’d use Subiri’s name.

He let the sounds of the captain and the spotter wash over him. A plan had been circling in his mind, even with the constant bickering he found his mind dissecting thought after thought. They didn’t have enough oils to repeat what happened last time. At most they could use the beasts fear of fire to distract it for a few moments. They were also under strict orders not to use their abilities. Opportunities to use them will be far and thin anyway. They were still under the third gate, meaning they wouldn’t be able to summon enough asi to kill the thing. They couldn’t try to draw the creature away. They tried that earlier, it didn’t work. They could only draw him so far from the storm before he gave up and returned to it. Fearmera usually attacked the biggest thing in the sands. Meaning the Lakeno would be his first target. Using the spotters to evacuate the ship was also impossible. Oakfara had five spotters in total, one was following the storm two were with the ship and the three were still keeping a look out. None were keen for any more surprises.

There was something in there that Yaeno could use he knew it. If only he could find it. Would he figure it out in time though. Yaeno had orders, orders that came above all else. He intended to see them through. If it came to it Yaeno could use the spotters to evacuate the nesha, have them sent to the nearest city so they could continue their mission. Yaeno knew that if the ghasan had been here, she would’ve taken that option without batting an eyes. So why was it, that option that had the wounds on Yaeno’s arm itching.

“How many people can those spotter ships carry.”

It was Oakfara he spoke to, but it wasn’t she who answered. The man with the crooked teeth answered instead.

“Thinking of running be my guest. Hope you choke on ash coward of cowards.” The spotter spat.

Kokah wasn’t the only one who picked up on what his question implied. The nesha grew tense, their hands falling to weapons they didn’t carry. Yaeno let Kokahs word’s roll of him like sand. The sultans’ orders came first, all else meant nothing. They all had nooses growing taunt around their necks. Some tighter than others. Yaeno could almost feel the coarseness against his skin. Once more Yaeno watched as the captain’s hand reached for her dagger. To his surprise and discontent, her hand did not retreat. Instead, her fingers clasped the hilt for a moment nothing happened. Yaeno could see her fight it. Oakfara died a little inside as she unsheathed it. Placing the flat edge against her pants. She wasn’t looking to him, instead her eyes to the only door leading out of the room. The nesha were looking to him with mixed emotions. Ramali looked to have swallowed a lemon. Jana’s emotions were hidden as she leaned against one of the supports. Calm eyes watching. After a tense moment Oakfara answered him.

“About one each, though you could fit more. If you want to leave, I won’t hold it against you. You paid for safe passage. The crew won’t like it, taking manpower that we could use. The potter even less. I’ll need to deal with the mutineers before you leave.”

Though the words were spoken evenly, Yaeno could almost see disappointment in her eyes. Or was it betrayal. The spotter turned livid, his mouth twisting in a scowl. His jaw worked opening and closing as he tried to speak but no words left. Instead Kokah looked to Oakfara and sighed his shoulders sagging, his eyes to the ground. Grief clung to his shoulders weighing down even further. Kokah would follow her orders even if it cost him those, he once called friend. Kokah must’ve been one of the few from her original crew.

Oakfara sent off Makfone, who looked resigned. They were all dead. Ashes Yaeno’s arm itched something fierce. They had nothing that could harm Fearmera, nor could they all escape. Her crew consisted s of at least two dozen people. Too much to evacuate. So, they each had only a few hours to come to terms with their fates. How many would turn traitor, Yaeno wondered. Yaeno closed his eyes. he had all the pieces. He just needed to connect them. The answer eluded him like actza lizard, he had nothing to bait it with.

Nkt.

Yaeno clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. The answers snapped into place the dots connecting. Everyone turned to him a surprised look on their faces. Yaeno grinned.

“Get your things together you’re leaving”

Ramali looked close to arguing, the other nesha were already accepting his orders. They weren’t happy. It was the captain who turned to him, she’d caught on to wording. Kokah thought they nesha were going to sail away. Abandoning them and using their spotters to do it. Which was true the nesha were going to sail, but not to sail away. No, the nesha never run. Never. The nesha were going to sail and save everyone’s life while doing it. The itch in his arm was gone.

***

The sun was close to setting and the winds shook the ship. The nesha had been gone for hours and they clock was ticking. There had been another fight below, this time drawing blood. Oakfara’s second had to stay below, lest there be bodies. Yaeno watched as the storm grew closer. It was colossal and within it their doom lurked waiting. It fell towards them, the orange sands whipped up into the sky before crashing down. The sky itself was dark, clouds hung low. He’d seen storms before, none as rough as this one. There was no sound expect the howling of winds. It constantly pulled at his hair till he had to tie it back with a leather cord.

It would be upon them soon. Though that didn’t matter in the slightest. The nesha were gone, sent out with the spotters. While he stayed behind. The anxiousness returned, though did it really…no it didn’t this wasn’t anxiousness that had him close to leaning over the railings. It was excitement too, for who would be excited when a lyndworm, a creature that could terrorise a whole city came at them. Still, it wasn’t anxiousness and that made all the difference. Yaeno’s face was schooled his face, showing nothing to Oakfare who stood beside him. Yaeno almost chuckled at the site, the woman held on to the railings as though for dear life. Which he guess she was. The crew was below huddled in their cabin. It was only the two of them. They had lost sight of- a form exploded through the storm, trailing dust and sand behind it. Fearmera pulled ahead of the storm, diving back into the sand. A literal dune heading straight for them.

Every so often he would emerge with a high-pitched yowl and clicking noise. The beast rushed them. The storm was yet to reach them. Though it would soon enough. Yaeno caught movement at his periphery, he bit back a grin. Oakfara had missed it. Fear had her now. She’d grown pale, her body shook. Oakfara did her best not to move yet she couldn’t help herself. Over the winds Yaeno could hear her muttering silent prayers.

Using the lens, Yaeno got a better look at the beast, his head was cone shaped just like the other lyndworm though this one was different. Four lines that split parts of it stopping at the boned tipped end of its mouth. It had one singular eye, right in the middle of its head that was on them every time it surfaced. There was rage in its eye as though recognising the ship. It moved ever closer. Yaeno waited, letting the beast draw near. It needed to be close for his plan to work.

Almost any moment now.

The beast was growing closer, maybe a few more kilometres. Though it was covering that in heartbeats. The storm was following close behind, nipping at its tails. A low growl emanated from deep within its throat, its mouth splitting into four segments. Even from kilometres away the sands still shook. The beast was fast, but the storm was faster. The storm swallowed him once more, Yaeno closed his eyes. The winds wailed as the storm was upon them. Swallowing them whole. Yaeno almost lost his balance as the winds pushed against him. Yaeno counted the seconds. Feeling the earth shake, the tremors growing closer.

Three…two…one…

With a flick of his wrist, flares came to light. Yaeno had buried them in the sand, using his vipers to light them. They were special flares built to be seen even in a dust storm. Around them a ring of bright orange fire formed, as flare after flare came to life, forming a loose circle around them. There was keen cry, which Yaeno believed to be the beast. Opening his eyes, Yaeno squinted as they were assaulted by the sands. About a few hundred feet Feamera had stopped. Its fist slammed into the sand with rage. The orange light of the flares was reflected by the storm.

“It this the sum of your plan!” Oakfara shouted over the winds.

Yaeno smiled the beast refused to draw near. Fearmera refusing to draw near was just a bonus of his plans. He wasn’t counting on the flares to scare him this much. He needed the flares for one thing and one thing only. To exactly what they were made for.

“No that it is.” Yaeno said though he doubted Oakfara could hear him.

Off in the distance, deep within the storm Yaeno watched as a red flare light up. Drawing closer at an incredible speed. It started off as a pinprick but grew brighter, bigger. A manic grin split his lips. Grabbing Oakfara he jumped to the floor, bracing themselves. A wave of sand slammed against the ship rocking it. Crates fell as tarps were torn free and ropes tore. Through the storm Yaeno watched as a lyndworm erupted from the sands. On its back was Ramali and a terrified Kokah who clung to Ramali for dear life, a red flare in his hand. Ramali held onto the chains of two harpoons embedded on the back of Ifrar. She was smiling, sand filling her mouth though she didn’t seem to care. Ifrar crashed into Fearmera, his spiked beak piercing into its leathery flesh. Ramali swept Kokah of his feet, jumping off and landing amidst them.

Together they watched as two titans, fought. Fearmera had the size advantage, but Ifrar was faster. They brutalized each other, Ifrar tearing chunks of Fearmera of while, he slammed her into the ground repeatedly. There were cries of rage and pain as they beast tore into each other none refusing to back down. Brightly coloured blood was spilt at Yaeno feet. His grin so wide it begun to hurt. The fight took the titans farther away. The storm obscuring them. Even then they could still feel the desert quake as the titans duked it out. It wasn’t long before that too faded away. All that was left was Yaeno’s thundering heart. Next to him, he could hear Oakfara repeat the word ‘madness’.