"Why's it still so fecking hot here?" the necromancer grumbled, looking even paler than usual under a sheen of sweat. He and Sou Yuet were wrapped up against the sun, but even the usually unflappable monk looked a little drained by the heat.

They had left Shísuàn a few days ago, hopping their way across the continent, roughly following the Jade Road. They had departed Zhàng the day before, and now they were wandering through a market in a city called Vurdʑɕahar, following the somewhat disjointed Common Tongue instructions they had been given by a group of traders heading east towards Chūn.

Sou Yuet took everything in with smiling fascination. The bustling marketplace contained a few familiar items, evidently traded from the countries to the east, but most of the wares were unfamiliar, the scent of unknown spices heavy on the air, vegetables of strange colours neatly stacked. Sou Yuet went from stall to stall, trading their medicinal herbs for these vegetables they had never seen before. The necromancer watched with amusement, trailing contentedly along behind the monk with the si dzi puppy in his arms.

"Have you thought of a name for her yet?" Sou Yuet asked, as they turned a bright orange root over in their hands.

"I told ye, I'm no good at that kind of thing."

"It seems sad for the little one to have been travelling with us for so long, and yet remain nameless."

"So why don't you come up with a name?

"I'm no good at that kind of thing."

The necromancer glowered. "Stop that."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Ah, isn't this the stall...?"

Under a sprawling tent, people were seated comfortably, chattering over cups of mint tea. Sou Yuet hailed a man moving about with a teapot. "Excuse me, are you the owner here?"

"I am. Can I help you?" The man, a short, middle-aged gentleman with a well-groomed moustache, spoke the common language fluently, if with a slight accent. Sou Yuet showed him their Yuen Mei badge and explained quietly who they were and their purpose. "I've been told you know something about a missing legendary creature?"

The man called out, and two teenagers, a girl and a boy, appeared from behind some cloth at the rear of the tent. "Take over for me here." He handed the teapot over and gestured for Sou Yuet and the necromancer to enter where the youths had just exited. Behind the cloth was a small sitting area, screened completely for more private conversations. Still, the man kept his voice lowered.

"Yuān Yì Fēng, was it? I'm Alam Wesa. Yes, you've come to the right place. I think teahouses the world over are the place to trade information, no?"

"That's certainly been our experience. What do you need from us in return?"

"Honestly..." Alam Wesa shook his head. "The information I'm about to give you is free. What we truly need is someone who can help us with the situation we are facing."

Sou Yuet nodded. "Then please, tell us."

First Alam Wesa poured out tea and offered a large platter of pistachio cookies around. As the necromancer munched ravenously through them, he began, "There is or maybe was, a guardian bird of this region. She has many names – here we call her the anqa. West of here, I have heard the names simurgh and phoenix. I believe in your country she is known as fènghuáng."

"A resurrecting bird with fire powers?" the necromancer asked around a mouthful of dough.

"Not exactly," Sou Yuet explained, also taking a biscuit. "There are a number of creatures that are closely related to each other, likely with a common ancestor, but are, in the end, sufficiently different from one another. The same can be said of plants. Can you describe your anqa to us?"

"Well, she generally resembles a crane in shape. Long legs, long neck, about... yes, she's about the same height as your friend here. She has two sets of wings, and her feathers are of all colours, although she has a pure white neck. As for her face..." Alam Wesa fiddled with his teacup. "It's... It's one of the Mysteries. Usually she appears with the head of an eagle, with a strong red beak, and yet in recent times, people have sworn that they have seen her wear a beautiful human face, as benevolent as an ahura."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"A shapeshifter, perhaps?" Sou Yuet suggested. The necromancer secretly slipped a cookie into his robe to feed the si dzi puppy hiding there.

"Who knows? It's unknown. In any case, she has protected this area as far back as our history tells. She has warned us of disastrous storms, dealt with marauding beasts, and even lent her strength when an invading army attacked. In return, we give her offerings and provide medical assistance when she requires, such as treatment for biting insects or the like."

"So your healers would have had the most contact with her, then?"

"Indeed."

"When did she disappear?"

Alam Wesa looked surprised. "Oh, no, you've misunderstood. She's still there, in her nest in the mountains."

The necromancer quirked an eyebrow and rubbed crumbs from his mouth. "So what's the problem?"

"We're not...entirely sure. Her behaviour seems odd... We don't see her as often these days, and those that have are the ones who say they have seen her human face. They described her expression as 'beautiful, but unsettling'. That she has milky eyes and pale lips... as if... she was dead."

Sou Yuet and the necromancer exchanged a look. The monk bowed politely to Alam Wesa.

"We thank you greatly for your hospitality, and understand your concerns. However, we are already on a mission to investigate the disappearances of divine creatures. It sounds as though your anqa is facing some kind of difficulty, but I'm afraid it's outside of our mission, and our capacity..."

"We're not expecting you to do this for free," Alam Wesa said hastily. "The Jirga, the village council, has agreed to provide any assistance and compensation necessary, whether that be food, equipment, or money. In addition, we have this..."

From a pouch, Alam Wesa drew a folded cloth, and laid it on the low table between them. Sou Yuet was about to speak again when they sensed a kind of tension gathering around the necromancer beside them. The cloth was merely a rough fabric scrap, yet Sou Yuet thought that it looked familiar, somehow. As Alam Wesa began to unfold it, the monk suddenly remembered -

- standing in the main hall of the Yuen Mei School, their master at their side, mages from another country, far to the west, before them.

And an unkempt man, bound and kneeling before them, face hidden by his wild black hair.

The fabric of his clothing was just like this.

Alam Wesa pushed the open cloth forwards. In its centre lay a small, narrow, rounded wedge of wood, smoothed and buffed to a shine but still bearing traces of the wood's originally gnarled nature. It looked like a pale thorn, perhaps. Sou Yuet wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Where did you get that?" The necromancer's husky voice was almost inaudible. Sou Yuet's first instinct was to lay a concerned hand on the witch's shoulder, but when they caught sight of their friend's face, the hand paused uselessly.

The tent grew dark.

Something whispered and licked at their ears with a dark tongue. From the witch came a cold energy, creeping from him in tight waves. Sou Yuet looked at the little thorn again.

"What is this?" they asked evenly.

Alam Wesa responded quickly. "This... a stranger came by yesterday, and said that the two of you would arrive today. He said that if I offered this to you, and let you know that he had more, you would assist us. I... I apologise if I offended you."

"They're mine," the necromancer said hoarsely, picking up the wooden sliver with shaking fingers. "Those fecking... Aiteann. Aiteann took them from me when..." He drew his long black hair back and threaded the peg through one of the pierced holes in the shell of his ear. His fingers lingered there, rubbing the smooth wood.

"This stranger," Sou Yuet asked quietly, "what did he look like?"

Alam Wesa looked from the witch to the monk and took a deep, steadying breath as inconspicuously as he could. He had been a merchant almost all his life, since the time he was old enough to follow his father along the Jade Trail. He had faced bandits, powerful rulers, and even once come face-to-face with a jinn, out in the Empty Sands. He had thought he would die, that day, but he and his caravan and their escorts had calmly faced the jinn and survived.

He was more afraid now than he had been then.

In Sou Yuet's dark eyes, he saw a bottomless void beyond his comprehension. Unlike the necromancer's power, which seemed to have him by the throat, the pressure from the monk seemed to be scrambling his brain. He couldn't feel his body. He couldn't tell where was up and where was down. All he could do was speak.

"He... a foreigner. He wore a hood and had a cloth wrapped around his face, but his accent, and the colour of the skin on his hand... he seemed to be from the far west." He talked as though he were in a dream.

"How tall was he?" the necromancer asked, staring into the middle distance.

"A little shorter than you."

"Anything else?"

"When he adjusted his hood a little... his hand had freckles... and the nail on his longest finger was broken. That was all I could see."

Silence held the space fast. The necromancer sighed, and the air around him seemed to lighten. For the first time, he noticed the strange aura around the monk. "Hey... Sou Yuet?"

The monk's eyes flickered in his direction, trailing pale green sparks, but there was otherwise no response. They nodded stiffly at the rigid teahouse owner, and abruptly left the tent with a flick of their sleeves. The necromancer turned back to Alam Wesa.

"That bastard told ye he had more?"

"Y... yes." Now that Sou Yuet had left, the merchant could move again. He surreptitiously flexed his fingers. The stranger had cheerfully and confidently given him the wooden spike, and although he was somewhat suspicious of this man who hid his identity, Alam Wesa had not expected such an extreme reaction.

"These... are very important to me," the necromancer said, almost apologetically. "I was locked up, ye see, all my possessions taken, including these."

He finally dropped his fingers away from his ear.

"I'll talk with the monk. We'll see what can be done about yer bird."