After James and the others walked out of Butterfly Grove, the soft, tall grass shortened and smoothly transitioned into the yellowish sand of Girus, the large desert that stretched between Butterfly Grove and Daroeth-Keeth, the kingdom of the dwarves.

The cool wind that once beat against their bodies like a comforting pillow was replaced with scorching heat. Sweat dripping from every part of their bodies, it was like they were melting. Each step on the crunchy sand made them hotter and hotter, as though the sun approached them from out of the sky. The knowledge of the only water source being inside the prickly, green cactuses made it no better.

“Aviar,” James began as he lifted his head to look at the back of the wizard’s head in front of him, his noodle-like legs becoming more unstable everytime he stepped, “Are we close?”

“We should be.” Aviar answered, sounding uncertain and tired.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” questioned Alaris from James’ left, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his hand.

“Yes,” Aviar replied, pulling out his map. “Once we leave this desert we’ll be there.”

Looking forward and backward once, all James could see in the distance was just sand and cactuses, some bigger than the others. Nothing more, nothing less. Will we ever leave this desert?

To James, they had been walking for what seemed like the entire morning. Dragging their legs and feet only for a chance at saving their kingdom. If the dwarves were to decline their request, all the suffering of the unbearable heat would be for nothing.

Then that dark, dreaded voice returned, repeating itself in James’ head with no apparent end.

Come to me.

He covered his eyes with his hands and acted like he was rubbing them so he wouldn’t seem crazy in front of everyone else due to his strained facial expression.

No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the voice just wouldn’t go away.

A headache, once that felt like a blade pushing itself deeper and deeper into James’ head, grew quickly.

Upon moving his hands from his eyes, James was startled. Eyes stretching fast, his heart jumped at the sight of his mother and father in front of him. He wouldn’t have recognized them if it weren’t for their voices. Their skin was rotten and grayish, chunks and pieces of their bodies gone, exposing the bone underneath. What he remembered of his mother’s long, wavy, brown hair and his dad’s short, curly black hair was nothing but a few strands of brittle, hay-like hair, barely noticeable if you weren’t staring. Their eyes were a black void of nothingness. As James looked into them, his heart pounded. It was as though he was looking at his future. A dark, evil, future.

“Come to me,” they both said in unison. “Come to Myrmurrian.”

“James?” another voice said.

His head darted to his right. But, to his relief, it was just Braya.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered, briefly looking back in front of him to see if his parents were still there. In place of them was Aviar, as he was before the voice and headache invaded his mind, which had now subsided. “Just a headache.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“No.” James responded.

“There’s something on your wrist.”

He quickly lifted his arm to look but only saw the small, black depiction of a poppy he had gotten tattooed on his wrist. “It’s just a tattoo.”

Braya’s eyebrows raised. “I wouldn’t expect you of all people to have a tattoo.”

“I got a small one so nobody would notice it,” James stated. “The only reason I got it in the first place was because Alaris forced me to.” he said with a slight smile.

“That’s not how I remember it,” Alaris quickly and laughingly interjected. “You were too scared to get one by yourself so you forced me to get one with you. Leaving me to walk around trying to hide my shoulder from Merlis.”

“You just can’t let me lie in peace, can you?” James joked.

“Did it hurt?” Braya asked.

“No.” James answered.

“James,” Alaris began. “You cried so much the tattooist almost kicked us both out.”

“I don’t think she asked you.” James laughed, disregarding what Alaris said.

“You both do know that tattoos are illegal in Rosepost, don’t you?” a voice asked from behind them.

James, Braya, and Alaris turned around to see Princess Rosepost’s unamused face staring back at them.

Though Braya was fine, James and Alaris were lost for words. Neither of them could lie, as she had already heard everything.

The Princess’ folded her lips in and looked down. She then pulled down the top part of her dress, just enough to reveal the small depiction of an axe tattooed on her collarbone.

“I trust you three can keep a secret.” she said as she fixed her dress.

Each of them smiled and nodded.

“The only thing I know about my real father was that he was a lumberjack.” she stated. “Therefore the axe is important to me.

James stopped walking before he could bump into Aviar.

“What’s wrong?” he asked him.

His question was answered when he looked ahead.

A silhouette of a man could be seen in the distance, almost blending in with the cactuses. But this was no ordinary man. His head was like that of a lizard and a tail could be seen swinging behind him as he walked.

“What is that?” Alaris asked, squinting his eyes.

“I don’t know.” Braya said, her eyes wide.

James grew uncomfortable as the figure approached. It seemed small initially. But as it grew closer, so did it in size.

It stopped suddenly, as though it saw something familiar. Its entire appearance couldn’t be seen, but the shininess of its skin (or scales) could be seen glistening in the light of the sun.

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It vanished, disappearing into thin air as though it was never there in the first place.

Braya let out a sigh of relief.

“What could that have been?” Princess Rosepost asked.

“Maybe it was a mirage,” Braya suggested.

Alaris looked past James and directly at Braya. “All of us wouldn’t see the same mirage,” he stated. “It must have been real.”

“We aren’t living in a children’s book,” Braya responded. “It isn’t possible for people to just disappear like that without a trace.”

My parents did, James thought randomly after hearing Braya’s words.

“How can you still believe in the impossible when there’s a wizard with us?” Alaris questioned straightforwardly.

“If you’re suggesting that I am the cause of that- whatever that was, you are mistaken.” Aviar quickly said.

“My point,” Alaris began, “is that we don’t know what is and what isn’t possible out here. Before last night, I’m sure none of us really thought wizards existed.”

To James, and probably the Princess, Alaris wasn’t wrong. With magic being illegal in Rosepost Kingdom, neither of them really knew if wizards were truly as evil as they were made out to be or if they even existed at all. But James’ involvement in a past situation in Arlinbliss destroyed any doubts he had of wizardry’s existence.

“He’s right,” Aviar said. “Anything unheard of could be living in this desert. So don’t neglect your safety just because there’s no apparent danger.”

As they continued walking in the unbearable heat, James glanced at Braya and, through the sweat shining on her face, saw she looked both upset and distraught.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded dismissively.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded once again and looked briefly at Aviar’s belt.

James couldn’t help but wonder why she was so obsessed with the wizard’s belt. Instead of asking, he just forgot about it and continued fantasizing about not seeing anymore sand and cactuses.

The afternoon sun blazed once they arrived at Daroeth-Keeth, but the coolness of the winter wind fought against the sun’s heat.

James’ fantasy came to life once the sand and cactuses disappeared and made way for tall, green grass and thick trees with green leaves and brown bark, though some of the trees were nothing but trunks and branches due to the cold weather.

It’s cold.

James overflowed with joy, briefly smiling after they left the hot climate of Girus, as they all did. Even though it was something typically dreaded by many, the piercing cold comforted James like a mother’s hug. Combined with the trees, the grass, and the overall calmness of the area, it reminded James of Rosepost. Even though it wasn’t the best kingdom, it was good enough for him to call it home. Waking up early in the morning to tend to his crops and listening to the loud silence before others began their day's work always brought him joy. But it was gone. Destroyed within the blink of an eye.

This is our only chance.

If the dwarves wouldn’t help them, traveling so far and weakening their legs would have been for nothing. His home would stay destroyed and everyone else in the kingdom would die, assuming there were people left to succeed in dying without the help of Frostland’s swords. He grew fearful of the future, doubt surrounding every part of his mind.

What if they won’t help? Then what? We’ll all die!

Even if he wanted to, it was too late to turn back since they were already standing outside the gray stone walls of Daroeth-Keeth.

Four guards stood in front of the arched entrance to the kingdom. They wore bulky, shiny bronze armor, resting heavily on their strong, muscular bodies. In the hands were spears with black handles and a thin iron blade, which they were currently pointing directly at James and his friends’ heads. Though the dwarves were shorter, only standing tall enough to reach James’ chest, he was just as intimidated as he would be if he was faced with a guard taller than him.

“State your business!” one guard demanded of them loudly. “SPEAK!”

“We don’t mean any harm,” Aviar stuttered. “We just wish to speak to your ruler.”

The guards began squinting at all of them, slowly looking at every part of their bodies as they checked for weapons.

“He’s a wizard,” one guard whispered to the other after looking at Aviar’s belt, wide eyed. “The good kind.”

The other three guards then looked at Aviar’s belt and immediately lowered the spears.

I wonder what’s the deal with that, James thought.

“Sorry about that,” the same guard said. His tone was much happier and welcoming this time. “Follow me.”

James and the others all looked at each other awkwardly before entering the kingdom, scooting past the guards.

The difference between the ruler of Daroeth-Keeth and King Rosepost was more than clear after entering the walls of the kingdom. It was as though their ruler actually cared about every citizen. Every house, market, or workplace was built from gray stone bricks or red clay bricks with wooden beams for support, similar to the buildings in uptown Rosepost. What looked like random symbols to James was actually the language of the dwarves. The most apparent difference on the buildings was that the roofs were made from hay instead of black clay tiles.

There were many dwarves walking up and down the stone paved road, smiling as they talked to each other. They wore similar clothes to the people in uptown Rosepost: silk outfits of various colors. Most of the males had hair long enough to touch their upper back. But instead of letting it, they tied it back into a high ponytail with either a green or red band. The green band signified marriage and, in contrast, the red signified being unwed. The meaning was the same for the females, who had thin braids long enough to reach their lower backs. Female dwarves didn’t tie their hair back though. They just simply tied a band corresponding to the marital status to the bottom of their braids.

Something James noticed was the overwhelming presence of the dwarven army. Soldiers could be seen walking down the street, standing outside of buildings, or just simply talking to each other.

“You’ll have to excuse our paranoia,” the guard began as he led them down one of the stone roads. “We’ve recently received threats of war.”

“From who?” Princess Rosepost asked.

“We don’t know his name, but we know he was a wizard. Like you.” the guard said to Aviar.

“LIke me?”

The guard nodded. “The gem on his belt was red though. And his eyes… It was like they weren’t even there.”

James' heart pounded with familiarity. His eyes slightly widened, he gave Aviar a look of dread and saw the wizard was looking at him the same way. Aldor.

“Did he say why he wanted to start a war?” James questioned.

“It’s simple,” the dwarf began. “We didn’t do what he wanted.” He paused for a moment to let a child run past them before continuing. “He offered us a role in his plan. A New World, he called it. But the role we would’ve played was destroying the Kingdom of Rosepost, which is something we would never do. We dwarves are not thirsty for power and have kept to ourselves for years now. That’s something we wish to continue. He spoke of some creature. Some ancient sleeping beast that needs to be awakened for this New World of his to come into place.”

“Was its name Myrmurrian?” James blurted as though he had no control over his tongue.

“Yes, that’s exactly what the name was,” the guard replied. “It’s my personal opinion, and Emperor Bakdrel agreed, that if something has been asleep for years without disturbance, just leave it alone.”

The dwarf’s voice was drowned out by James’ thoughts. If Aldor planned to awaken Myrmurrian, what would that mean for Lyrid? Would it be destroyed entirely?

My parents.

The memory of his parents briefly appearing in front of him flashed in his head. The blackness of their eyes and their rotting bodies made his skin crawl and his hairs stand.

“Come to me,” they said to him.

Why did he think of his parents every time he thought of Myrmurrian? Were they connected?

It can’t be, James thought, fighting the possibility of something more sinister. Is Myrmurrian the reason my parents vanished?

The voice of the guard snatched James out of his head.

“Anyway,” the dwarf said before he left. “This is it.”

James had not realized they arrived at the castle. A large and beautiful stone structure it was, the gray color of the stone blending perfectly with the blue color of the roofs of the many towers. A long, shiny, brown bridge, built over a deep and thick moat of water surrounding the castle, stretched between the castle and where James and the others stood. Standing along the polished black railings of it were guards dressed the same as the ones guarding the entrance. They stood so motionless James mistook them for statues covered in bronze.

“Are you alright?” Alaris asked him as they walked over the bridge, the tapping sounds of their footsteps being carried by the silence of the wind.

“Of course,” James answered. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem distant sometimes,” said Alaris. “It’s like you’re in a different world. The guard was talking to you for a moment and you didn’t respond.”

“I wasn’t really listening. I’m sorry.”

James caught a glimpse of Alaris’ confused expression before turning away. No matter how he could word it, there was no way he could explain the constant headaches, visions of his parents, and dark voices without seeming like he’d gone mad.