Master woke me early the following day as I curled around my pillow on the dusty floor. "Change of plans," he said, looking out the cloudy window. The sun shone into the room as the dust particles danced in the slight breeze. “Time to get moving.”
He turned and headed into the hallway; his footsteps echoed on the wooden hallway floor as I pushed myself up groggily. The distinct aroma of freshly cooked bread and roasted meat filled my nostrils, enticing me to follow him downstairs. I slipped my boots on and headed out the door, but stopped and ran back in to grab my dagger. I slipped it into my waistband and went back to the stairs.
The inn's common room was already bustling with activity. Around me, the sound of travelers having their breakfast, local merchants discussing their wares, and the familiar hum of early morning gossip. We found a table and were soon served with plates of scrambled eggs, a side of spiced sausages, and freshly baked bread with a dollop of sweet jam. The food was incredible compared to the slop I was fed at the prison.
I thought about how hard this stuff was to get in my hometown and how much this must have cost to ship it all to the desert.
Master smiled at me while I shoveled food into my mouth, almost like he bought this expensive food on purpose. To remind me that I was out and onto bigger and better things. Most of the people around me just ate a standard bread and fish meal.
The innkeeper, a stout woman with a welcoming smile, approached our table as we finished our meal. "Hello, elvenfolk," she began, nodding to Master, "someone's been waiting for you since pre-dawn. Says he has business with you." She discreetly pointed towards a shadowy corner of the inn where a figure sat alone, his face obscured by a deep hood.
Master and I exchanged glances. Without a word, we got up and approached the mysterious stranger. Master's eyes narrowed, observing every detail of the stranger as he pulled down his hood. The harsh desert sunlight streamed through the inn's windows, casting half his face in shadow. However, his emblem—a crescent moon overlaying dunes—was one I had not seen yet. Scars criss crossed his face, ending below his neck. Both eyebrows were gone, as was all the hair on his head, giving him a menacing appearance.
Behind us, the innkeeper released a slight gasp but covered her mouth and hurried into the back room of the inn, shutting the door behind her.
Apparently, this was a dangerous man. Master sat down at the table, as did I.
"Well, well. I didn't realize my master would send me to the Keeper of the Shadows. It's been a long time," Master said.
"Master Rogue, Erevan," he began, his voice calm yet authoritative. "Yes, I've received Lord Timekeeper's letter. And if he thought it prudent to contact me to spur my involvement, then the situation is exciting indeed."
A smile crossed his lips, but it was predatory, like we would be his next meal.
Master's jaw tightened, his hand subtly moving closer to his dagger's hilt. "What does the Guild want with you and your band of slave traders?"
I looked back and forth between the two, unsure of how this was going to go. If the leader of the Guild sent this man a letter, there had to be a reason.
The Keeper raised a hand, signaling peace. "Now, now. We got out of that long ago." Master snorted, but the man continued. "I'm assuming it's about your little breakout from the prison. You left quite a mess in your wake, Caelum."
"Don't call me that here," Master hissed with gritted teeth. "You do not get to call me that anymore."
The Keeper smiled again, clearly enjoying this. "We need to discuss our next steps, but not here." His gaze darted around the inn, observing the patrons who tried to pretend they weren't eavesdropping. "Too many ears, too many eyes. The Temple of Sands, our headquarters, is the only place we can speak freely. You know how to find it, I presume?" That smile again.
"Why should we trust you?" I asked, blurting out the sentence. Both of them looked at me, surprised that I spoke. I closed my mouth and cleared my throat.
The Keeper locked eyes with me, his gaze unwavering. "Because your Master's Master says so, boy. Now meet me at high noon. Or don't. But it appears that I've been tagged into your little game, whether you like it or not."
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He let the weight of that revelation hang in the air between us, the implication clear.
Master seemed to ponder this momentarily before finally nodding in agreement. "Very well. We'll meet you there."
The Keeper simply nodded. "High noon. And come prepared."
With that, he got up, threw his hood back on, and departed the inn, leaving us with more questions than answers.
"Who was that man?" I whispered as the innkeeper peaked her head out from behind the door, then returned to her services. It was like the inn released a breath it was holding as the patrons also returned to their meals and conversation.
Master looked at me thoughtfully, taking a moment to find the right words. "He is known as the Keeper of the Desert Shadows. A title that bears great weight in these lands. They are an ancient order, like our Guild, only this side of the realm. They hold no alliances to other factions, only to themselves."
I tried to process this information, but my mind was still reeling from our recent escape. "And he was talking about your Master, so Lord Timekeeper? Why did he send him a letter?"
"Not here!" he said, holding his hand up. "Don't say that name out in the open!"
I frowned, pursing my lips and looking down. "Sorry, Master."
He waved it off. "You just don't know who is listening. And even though most of these people don’t speak the common tongue, many can. Now come. We haven’t dressed accordingly for this mission. We need to get you outfitted for combat just in case so you don't die by the first sword that comes your way. You aren't in the prison anymore, surrounded by low-level inmates."
I scoffed. "They seemed pretty high level to me," I grumbled as we stood from the table.
***
We headed out, the sun casting long shadows on the sand as the morning progressed. The bustling activity of the desert town surrounded us: merchants haggling, children playing, and the scent of various spices in the air. Master grabbed a few more items from food vendors before we headed out the gates and into the desert toward what I assumed was the Temple of Sands.
The sun blazed overhead, casting a golden hue over the undulating dunes. It was so bright that it seemed as though the sands themselves were shimmering. I quickly wrapped a cloth around my head, trying to shield myself from the relentless heat. Master Rogue, on the other hand, seemed unfazed, navigating the desert with ease, as if he had walked these sands countless times.
Following behind him, I noticed how the landscape changed. The bustling town near the oasis gave way to quiet and isolation, the wind the only noise around us. Every so often, a caravan would pass us, camels laden with goods, their riders nodding in acknowledgment to Master.
The relentless sun of the desert bore down on us as we trudged through the endless dunes, our destination, the enigmatic Temple of Sands, shimmering like a mirage in the distance. I walked beside Master Rogue, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and memories.
It felt like a lifetime ago since I had been in prison serving my time. I could still recall the clang and hiss of the blacksmith's forge, where I worked alongside the dwarves. Those days seemed so mundane compared to my life now, yet there was a simplicity in them that I found myself missing somehow.
The only friends I felt like I had from the prison were the dwarves. Borin had escaped, along with a few others from my time in the prison smithy. I wasn’t sure what happened to Rurik. They now worked with me in the Guild’s forge, but they had not reunited us yet. We worked in shifts.
The explosion of the Heart of the Forest, the act that had shattered my life and set me on this path, still echoed in my ears. Nayal, my former roommate and an ex-councilor, had been behind it. His reasons remained cloaked in mystery, his whereabouts unknown. That event had thrust me out of the prison and into a new world of uncertainties and dangers.
My thoughts drifted to Nayal again as we walked. I had been played by the crafty ex-councilor. I wasn’t sure if finding his way to the morgue to set off his bomb was his plan the whole time, but I remembered countless times when he had tried to go with me to see the warden. It all made sense.
Now, I served Lord Timekeeper, the elf and Seer, and Master Rogue. This journey into the desert was part of my training in diplomacy, a skill I had little use for in the forge but one that was essential in the intricate web of politics and power plays I was now a part of.
We walked for what seemed like hours, only taking breaks for sips of water. Just when I felt like I couldn't take another step, I saw a majestic sight rose on the other side of a huge sand dune. An enormous stone structure stood defiantly against the desert landscape. Its walls, adorned with intricate carvings, reflected the history of a bygone era. Twin obelisks flanked the main entrance, each bearing the mark of the Desert Shadows.
"This," Master said, sweeping his arm toward the temple, "is the Temple of Sands."
I could see why it was named as such. It blended in with the surroundings in such a way that you could barely tell it was there, even standing in front of it as we were.
As we approached, the massive doors creaked open, revealing a shadowy interior. A figure draped in flowing robes emerged from the darkness.
"Master Rogue," the figure greeted in a deep voice, pulling back its hood to reveal an old face with piercing blue eyes and a shaved head, like the man from the inn. "It's been too long. And you must be Erevan," he continued, gazing at me.