Chapter 6: The only way is forward

Somewhere in Central Yasha'Lafiq, the morning sun was shining bright and the air was uniquely still and suffocating, as if mere breathing could not satisfy.

A long, ivory-stone thoroughfare led the first prince's general on the way through an opulent artesian water garden, from the High Azure Fortress towards a traditionally made tso-man house. Where most citizens of Yasha’Lafiq were too poor and careful to afford drinking water and instead turned to the common nad'm, this whole garden exemplified the true riches of the princedom, of which the general had only had an inkling of beforehand. Towards the north-east a stone aqueduct of ancient craft could be seen running all across this walled district, and plum trees on each side of the walkway offered some much needed shade.

The second prince's residence, the two-story high tso-man house, was made out of two circular closed pavilions stacked one on top of the other, with a grand and sweeping golden-tiled roof. The walls were supported by seven salamander pillars, each representing the occult water aspects of Jord: spring, river, lake, ocean, rain, cloud and ice. The whole interior was spacious and went up in a subtle ascending direction, the main room being split into three terraces. It resembled the style of a legendary tso-man palace, complete with water, coral reefs, salamanders, flood dragons, fish and other aquatic motifs adorning it. This was the domicile of prince Medzanalfif, and the general was gently led inside by the prince's white-robed servants.

He took the initiative:

"General Talamar pays his respects to Second Prince Medzanalfif," spoke the general.

This man was vigorous and tanned, handsome like any true son of the desert, but an odd bronze luster radiated off his skin in the sunlight, as if his flesh was crafted and given shape out of an unknown metal. His lively eyes and thick jaw gave off an aura of confidence and steadfastness. He was the first prince's left-arm general, the man known as the Siege and the one personally acclaimed by prince Yanamusad as the architect of his ascendancy.

"It's been many years since we last met," leisurely acknowledged Medzanalfif. "Back then, though you might not remember, I noticed your performance and commitment to the city's well-being in the herald storm's sad aftermath."

"I am grateful that the second prince remembers, though I have been backed by my betters and gained much from it as well. Thus I can not take the credit fully by myself," Talamar bowed stiffly.

It was obvious that he wasn't a man of niceties and royal formalities, and Medzanalfif laughed. Men such as the Siege were of unhesitating action and firmness of hand.

When he was a junior, he had a fortuitous encounter with a princess of Yasha'Lafiq who fancied him, guided and invested in him. As Talamar's power and experience grew, so did his reputation until he entered the inner circles of the city, while the princes sought to recruit or buy him. The man grew up to become a prestigious expert in the physical vraja aspects, but his loyalty remained forever with the princess. Although there weren't any clues at the point of her death nor at the funeral, many realized that the two might have fallen in love with one another. Soon after that, Talamar was recruited by Yanamusad, under whose supervision he eventually gained the reputation as the Siege. Talamar's arsenal included many strength, endurance and durability enhancing vraja potions, as well as an extremely rare unbound metal vraja potion. Most unbound class vraja potions were sparse across the world, almost impossible to acquire under ordinary circumstances, and each and every one of them were relatively priceless. Even most of the princes did not own one. The reason being that the power they brought forth from the heavens had a lifelong duration and the effectiveness was permanent at its available quality. In other words, if someone consumed an unbound vraja potion, they could use the power indefinitely without any mana consumption. In a sense, unbound vraja potions altered the very foundations of the Yada, actualizing the essence of being. That's why they were called unbound, because they surpassed the natural rules of Jord and the great Yada.

But the heavens were fair, and although unbound vraja potions were outstanding in their own right, the price and demands were often too overwhelming for any one individual to bear. This was simply the balance in all things.

"There is no need to put yourself down. Vraja potions are only tools, nothing else, and the attitude and display of skill is still any man's responsibility. Nobody will take that away from you," responded Medzanalfif, waving his hand.

"You are too kind, second prince."

Medzanalfif smiled with ease. He was considered very handsome by the entire royal court and could have married any princess if he so desired, plus he appeared to be radiating with an aura of insight and brilliance, which made him an attractive potential ally. His careful nature and obscure studies in the dark soul discipline however made him seem quiet and remote, and some could consider that to be offensive.

"But now I have unwillingly ascended to the second position, so many have already approached me," thought Medzanalfif.

He was clear about this. The princes only cared about themselves, status and ultimate power. Right now in Yasha’Lafiq, the most powerful faction was under the current first prince, Yanamusad, so naturally all those who opposed him wished to collude under the second prince, Medzanalfif. Such a thing wouldn't have been tolerated long by Iriazel, Medzanalfif knew, but towards the end of her life she was schemed against by many, including Yanamusad, who eventually restricted her from resources and sources for her power. Her long forceful reign was outrageous and she had gathered too many enemies, lone experts coming out of seclusion and masters to conspire against her. Their dark alliance turned out to be the only way to finally destroy and axe her from the First Throne, save for betrayal, because Iziarel had accumulated tremendous battle results over the years and no sole individual could contend with her great arrangements.

Out of the shadows, however, Medzanalfif watched as one of the pillars of support for Iriazel and the last one to stay by her side. In the end, even he had to withdraw and show manners to her assassins and authors of her death. Even now, his face showed a calm expression, because he understood that this meeting would only mark the beginning of collaboration between the main forces of Yasha’Lafiq. It was a long-term investment to cooperate and supply Yanamusad.

Yanamusad had very few flaws, except that he cared too much about his own well-being, wealth and power. Not that he was selfish, in fact he had a truly affectionate and protective nature towards his family. In order to protect his child, he nearly risked the entire Iriazel operation by keeping his right-hand general at the back together with some troops. Thus, his forces were weaker when sieging the Azure Fortress and if Iriazel wasn't already weakened by the other princes' schemes, the results would have been different, for Iriazel was known to respond tenfold when conspired against.

Medzanalfif smiled lightly at this thought. To think that the entire landscape of Yasha'Lafiq could have changed upon the whim of a father's absolute resolve to protect his only daughter. Medzanalfif could not understand the depths of filial love and if he was truthful to himself, he would have done things somewhat differently in Yanamusad's place.

He sighed. Nobody could be invincible, no matter how much power and resources and knowledge they amass. Such a thing as defying death and the heavens did not exist.

After a moment of silence, he stretched his palms outwardly as in welcome, and said:

"Alright general, let us do business."

Talamar did not speak, only took out a register from his satchel and handed it over to Medzanalfif. There were many lines written on the paper and it touched upon key aspects only known by the princes of Yasha'Lafiq, including arrangements, old deals and debts, secrets and future endeavors, but there was also a list of ingredients and materials for vraja potions numbering in the hundreds.

"This is fair, I can provide you with no issues," Medzanalfif barely opened his eyes to browse through the contents.

To brew, consume and use vraja potions were the three main aspects of power. The depth of each of these fields of study was an acknowledged discipline in and of itself. Many scholars and experts would study a facet for decades before making a breakthrough in strategy or bring a new approach to light, and some might simply refine upon the established tactics without going too deep into exploration. In this regard, Medzanalfif could be considered a true brewing great master, but more specialized in the fine process of ingredient selection and storage. He possessed an array of materials and elements as wide as the desert, and only through unreasonably vast maneuvering did Yanamusad restrict him (as well as other master brewers and ingredients shops in the city) to provide Iriazel with what she needed, thus weakening her tremendously in the end.

Medzanalfif gently turned while excusing himself, and called for a white-robed handmaiden.

"Zenki!" then sat for a few moments in silence, before turning back towards Talamar.

"I have my own disciples in this respectable branch of brewing, out of which the appraising of ingredients is only a small division. That's what we do here, evaluate and correctly sum up the prices of ingredients."

"That's marvelous, second prince," murmured Talamar, though Medzanalfif thought he only did it out of respect, not genuine academic interest.

Zenki arrived shortly after. She was a very narrow and erect woman in her middle age with a distinct librarian look to herself, and by her lighter skin tone and black hair tied in a bun, Talamar correctly guessed that she was a south-westerner. The unique political climate of Yasha'Lafiq was indeed a focus point to many foreigners, many of whom wished to work directly with the princes.

"Are you familiar with any of these ingredients?" asked Medzanalfif while pointing directly at the register.

"With all of them, except four," Zenki replied.

"Very good. Go now and have them all ready for delivery, except the four. What does it say?"

Zenki squinted her already slanted eyes and lowered her reading glasses, then replied:

"It says here dry icy elderspear, wooden stormbird legs, breadfish scales and purple soul moss."

"That is no trouble. Find Fufei and request his assistance, and also tell him that this is a priority above all others, since we are serving the first prince Yanamusad."

Zenki nodded stiffly and trotted off the way she came. Looking at her with but a sparkling glance, Talamar straightened his back and shoulders, but did not move a single step.

"Please have something to drink, general," said Medzanalfif while blinking.

It seemed like he was crying, then his tears transformed into something resembling an ice flower levitating mid air. It opened and a fragrant water tendril stretched out of it and poured directly into the glasses awaiting on the low table.

Talamar looked at it with suspicion and Medzanalfif smiled at his innocence born out of ignorance:

"This is the iced sky bloom vraja potion," explained Medzanalfif. "It is quite expensive throughout the whole Alyriam desert belt buckle because of the required ingredients, although it is only a grade two vraja potion and the ingredients are rather common plants elsewhere. Since the means of brewing it are mostly tied to the foreign lands beyond the western mountains, this makes it a very rare potion here, and as far as I am aware, I am the only one possessing the complete recipe in the entire Yasha'Lafiq."

The world of Jord was wide and vast, with deep wastelands and thick wilderness, filled with spectacular flora and fauna and wonders that surpassed the imagination. It was very difficult for humans to travel freely and brave the dangers beyond their natural borders, and communication and knowledge of the outside realms was quite limited. For example, the people of Yasha'Lafiq and the Alyriam desert were isolationists mainly due to their princedom form of government, where the succeeding prince would consolidate their own power and maintain their position rather than build upon the successes of the previous prince. Thus, the citizens of Alyriam mostly occupied themselves with their own lands and businesses and crafts, and would pay little to no attention to what happened abroad.

For Medzanalfif to casually drop information about the far nations beyond the western mountain range, it gave Talamar a vague sense of pressure. It was obvious that Medzanalfif’s business was very prosperous and he was in no rush to arm himself and his allies for an eventual clash with Yanamusad.

"It must be exceptionally useful for those that walk the desert," observed Talamar while accepting his glass of water.

"You are correct. The badawin caravans have made me very rich, though they discovered that when faced with direct sunlight, the flower had the tendency to evaporate quickly."

"Is it potable?" asked Talamar with the simple-minded curiosity of the desert-born.

"It is," assured Medzanalfif.

Talamar tasted it and nodded with contentment. It was indeed purified and satiating, cold and tasted almost like sweet roses.

"This potion flower allows for the storage of clear water and although it's not an unbound vraja potion, the duration is extended for as long as it doesn't dry up from sunlight exposure and overuse. It always replenishes with the water that the user imbibes, it purifies it further and stores it for later use."

Talamar made a face as if he wanted to say something, but he stopped when the floating flower made out of ice closed up and disappeared in a frigid cloud.

"Are you interested in this potion?" inquired Medzanalfif, also drinking some of his scented water.

Talamar's body stiffened and his eyes flickered only once, but it was enough for the methodical Medzanalfif to guess that this metal man, the general, was not cold and arrogant. His greatest flaw however could be his reluctance to ask for help, and once receiveth, he would make sure to compensate it tenfold.

"Ah, it seems rather that you wish something else from my stocks."

"Yes, that is correct," responded Talamar.

Medzanalfif lowered his voice:

"Do you want it under the table?"

Talamar shook his head then took out another list from within his military coat and showed it to Medzanalfif.

"I can sell this all to you, general," said Medzanalfif, narrowing his eyes. "Interesting, this is the felid pheromone vraja potion. It is used to enslave the minds of cats and felines, but it is not true mind control. Rather, it is a way to sway their emotions according to your heart’s whim, like gently pushing a boat to and fro in the great God-river. Do you want it?"

"Of course," responded Talamar.

Medzanalfif was quite shrewd and realized some things immediately. This potion is useless for a master of the physical vraja aspects and it was not suitable for the Siege's fighting style as a powerhouse of overwhelming strength and fortitude. He had already investigated all that was relevant about the general, and it seemed like Talamar solemnly scrutinised the loss of one of his subordinates during the clash with Irizael, despite the overall success of their operation. The official story was that the man died while battling the flames in an effort to save princess Iriazel, and Medzanalfif intuited that Talamar loathed this cover up. Naturally, it meant that he had the need to prove his own worth as a lone pillar. Him coming here, and not letting Yanamusad send someone else, likely meant exactly that:

The general was a fairly introverted man for whom a failure sends bigger ripples than ten successes. Men such as the Siege made perfect soldiers.

Medzanalfif could not help but admire Yanamusad for his capacity to acquire such a useful tool.

“Not many will find a need for this vraja potion, so it is somewhat cheap on the market. General, you did the right thing coming to me for this transaction. I am willing to sell you the vraja potion as well as materials for further brewing. Should you lack the means, you are welcome to use my laboratory, for a small fee.”

“Thank you, second prince.”

“Dancing troupes and badawin caravans will use it on their nanza-cat slaves, and others in exotic harems, can you imagine how? So it looks like a strange request coming from you. If it’s not too impolite to further ask, what do you need the felid pheromone vraja potion for?”

So many improper questions! Talamar’s fists balled into two sturdy, hammer-like fists capable of cracking through solid walls. It was all he could do to refrain himself from hitting this prince for his immodest assumption. A hard moment of fading smiles followed, during which Talamar realized his mistake. What Medzanalfif posed was a fair and unavoidable question.

"I need it personally," Talamar replied through his teeth.

“It is a grade one potion and not as useful as one would expect, even when employing higher quality mana. Cats, especially big cats of the elven-cat and nanza-cat categories, are somewhat individualistic animals and the intelligent ones can occasionally resist this diffused form of emotion manipulation when they are forced to do things contrary to their nature…” continued Medzanalfif, seemingly oblivious to the internal struggle within Talamar’s metal stronghold of a body.

"Make sure to align your heart to their mood and the control will be more potent."

Talamar merely nodded at Medzanalfif's suggestion. The silence stretched for too long to simply denote shock or hurt. There was reluctance and an even thicker sense of suspicion in Talamar’s eyes.

“I will come here to trade often in the coming weeks, second prince, so there is no hope in hiding and no purpose in denying.”

Talamar paused again and finished drinking his rose-tinted water. He felt like a traitor talking and divulging secrets with his own voice, and the words came out in painful gasps.

“The first prince has tasked me with retrieving important assets from the tomb of Ba. For that, I would need a special assault force under my direct command, expendable troops as you well understand. My first choice was to hire the Cultelari of course, but currently the first prince himself will lead them in order to penetrate a recently discovered izzia hive in the east."

"That does make sense," Medzanalfif nodded and waved for one of his capable servants to prepare this order of materials and consumables. Izzia hives were usually treated as a priority.

A potion was handed to Talamar for immediate use, as well as brewing instructions and ingredients to be sent to the laboratory, where Talamar, or somebody hired by him, could brew.

"Second prince, you are worthy of everyone's respect and first prince Yanamusad had made the correct decision to trade directly with you, instead of unfairly treating you as his enemy."

Talamar was polite and could not stop himself from praising, in spite of the fact that mere moments ago he nearly split Medzanalfif's skull with a punch. Men, it seems, were easily swayed by all things indirect.

Medzanalfif merely smiled gently.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"It is my honor to be able to do business with the first prince himself and his men."

Medzanalfif appeared very modest by lowering his status to the same level as Talamar. After the short tense moment, the two men now discussed for a while longer in a harmonious manner, exchanging pleasantries and information.

"Please let me pay a sum of money as a deposit for future transactions," offered Talamar earnestly. "If the first mission with the nanza-cats is a success, I will need all the materials for the felid pheromone vraja potion that you have, as well as access to the laboratory for brewing. I will form divisions and have my own men also use the potion to enhance their commanding ability."

Medzanalfif accepted the money and assured the general with elegant goodwill. This had made Talamar evaluate the prince much more highly.

"I am curious about something, if you would oblige," Medzanalfif suddenly spoke.

"Please, second prince, ask me anything," Talamar's gaze flashed.

"What does elder brother Yanamusad seek in the decrepit ruins of Ba?"

Talamar was taken aback for a moment, but quickly regained his calmness.

"Perhaps the second prince knows more about it than I do," he spoke truthfully. "My mission is to retrieve assets and I know little else."

Medzanalfif gathered his brow in a frown and started to contemplate on Iriazel's information as well as everything else that he knew about Yanamusad. His thoughts turned out superfluous and tangled, with too many variables to consider. Perhaps Yanamusad sought legendary ingredients for vraja potions, or hidden recipes or means of brewing, or perhaps it would aid Yanamusad in some other convoluted way.

"I have no way of knowing," admitted Medzanalfif to Talamar.

"First prince Yanamusad did mention that I would need to deal with the old elementals and their overlord while inside, first, as a measure of precaution. There is a possibility that I might need the numbers, which is why I will employ the nanza-cats."

Medzanalfif's gaze flashed with understanding as he heard the general's complaint. He was somewhat of a scholar of ancient beliefs himself, and was familiar with the most popular legends, metaphysics and the metaknowledge. What Talamar described was nothing else but finding the ossuary of Ba Busal, lost in ancient times to the perils of the desert. According to the legends, the sage Busel'ek married a soulless tso-woman and unearthed a way to give them mana, power and an artificial soul with the use of vraja potions. But before he could research further and gain understanding over life and death, the outraged leaders of those bygone days hunted him down and exiled him, because they could not kill him. In his last days of life, he had built and buried himself within the mausoleum known today as the tomb of Ba Busal, or simply the tomb of Ba.

Medzanalfif cast his eyes down as he pondered:

"If there truly exists a way to ascribe a soul to the soulless... don't tell me, Yanamusafd wants to learn the secrets of resurrection from Busel'ek himself? If that's the case, he doesn't want any artifact or assets, he wants a stubborn fool with a large sense of duty to clear those dark catacombs so he could safely explore and study them. What for, though? Does Yanamusad really seek to resurrect the dead king Na'calial, or is that part of an even larger plan as well?"

Medzanalfif's thoughts moved at lightning speed.

"Let's see what are Yanamusad's main fields of study… no, he is a great master in the ka aspect and a colossal combat maniac, feared and admired by many for his physical prowess. But a scholar, Yanamusad is not!"

Seeing that Medzanalfif had not said anything in a while and was absentmindedly gazing off to nowhere, Talamar said:

"At the present time, first prince Yanamusad should have already given orders to mobilize his vanguard troops towards the izzia hive in order to scout the situation. He proclaimed both theirs and mine to be urgent missions, although since he wants to capture live specimens, the izzia hive should be more dangerous to deal with, which is why he is leading himself soon."

As he spoke, Talamar's intonation changed slightly, which caught Medzanalfif's attention and it hooked him out of his meditation.

"He said he needs live izzia specimens?"

Medzanalfif took great care not to sound excited or concerned, but this seemingly irrelevant information was disturbing to say the least. The external affairs council, which was a neutral force in Yasha’Lafiq, often organized extermination missions on the izzia swarms and even forced the princes to participate or collaborate and join forces, when such a swarm could potentially pose a problem. It was simply because the izzia were a hive mind monster. But to capture live izzia specimens, it would only be done for the harvest of materials, usually by lower tier warriors, since the izzii did not yield useful potion ingredients.

"Let us be honest, Yanamusad doesn't need izzia body parts, nor does he need aggressive pets. He is too ambitious, too grandiose. If he personally wants to attack the izzia hive, it could only mean that he wishes to take control of the hive mind and thus, gain control over the entire swarm!" Medzanalfif thought, with dread creeping up his spine.

With a distant tone Medzanalfif had thanked the general and sent him on his way together with his order of ingredients and felid pheromone vraja potions, then moved gracefully into his study room.

Medzanalfif carefully pondered Yanamusad's intentions over his stacks of tomes and scrolls, trying to find understanding in his actions with the help of ancient knowledge. After a person reaches a profound maturity in vraja comprehension, something of a divine intuition would make its way into their mind. The vraja potions were not merely a tool, but they were a way for the divinity to make itself known. Vraja potions were vessels that carried the laws of the great Yada in differing proportions, each unique. Upon brewing, drinking and using such potions, upon using their mana, humans gained insight into these laws of nature itself and could uncover secrets previously not even hinted at. Medzanalfif could feel his mystical gate filling up with his faded ash mana as his understanding deepened. He was close to uncovering his elder brother's plans.

Yanamusad did not amass power for power's sake, as much of a barbarian that he was. He looked for certain things, certain elements and there was a vague connection between each step. The izzia hive mind, Ba's secrets of raising the dead, the king Na'calial and Iriazel's mystifying relic from the time of dryads. Just as a vraja potion was not merely a tool, but an opened book of heavenly knowledge, Yanamusad did not merely gather tools of power, but wished to attempt something which would truly defy the heavens.

That was it! Medzanalfif gasped in astonishment.

He nearly jumped from his chair and tossed all the books and parchments around, trying to find one with the information that he needed.

Yanamusad wanted to conquer the heavens, brute force his way directly into the heavenly realms. For that, the only possible thing that he could do was to Break through the north with overwhelming force, an army and much sacrifice.

"The Break! The Break! That's what Yanamusad wants to do!"

The Break, in theory, referred to a magical journey northward, attempted only by masterful sages and god-like men, towards enlightenment and utter mastery over the earthly realms below. It usually involved a massive battle at the ends of the world, and the reward for winning was the heavenly realm. This concept would go on and influence literature and the arts deeply in the world of Jord, it was as basic as the hero's journey. Those few exalted figures of history who had attempted the Break were all exemplary individuals, god-emperors and mighty warriors, experts in many fields and leaders who could amass vast armies at a shift of their thought.

There were few ways Yanamusad could attempt it, and in every instance he needed to take control of Yasha'Lafiq and its First Throne. Iriazel's peace brought an unprecedented sense of stagnation within the ruling powers of Yasha'Lafiq, and Yanamusad could never forgive it, thus removing Iriazel was merely the first, and easiest, step.

***

Ssyba slowly opened her eyes. All she saw before her was a white blur but as her vision gradually returned and her eyes adjusted to the early morning light, she saw a bedroom. She found herself in a bed covered by a silk red blanket. Beside the bed there was a small incense stove burning some and giving off an arousing fragrance. The room was sandy and modest but elegant, the table and chairs, bed and dressing paravan were all made out of dark wood and adorned with soft carvings and paint. There was a gentle atmosphere hanging in the air…

And contrasting it, Izzmahil’s face looking over Ssyba was like a rough mud statue in a prince's palace. The badau was dark and wrinkled and dried up like a dehydrated plum. His skin was rough and tattooed, and his brows were heavy set like two cliffs.

"Just how long did I sleep?" asked Ssyba.

She was feeling healthy, well rested, as if rejuvenated but there was a sense of slowness in her mind and the space between her eyes felt heavy. She patted her head and her heart sank. There was no injury, no scar, no pain, absolutely nothing.

"Yes, yes, the potion did its job," rasped Izzmahil. He gesticulated around her face and body, saying: "The flesh remembers even though it's closed. Come on, poke it!"

He pointed with his finger on her ribs and head, and it felt heavy and hot, like a mad nightmare of bodily pain. However, the potion's aftereffect absorbed most of the pain.

"You got messed up hard," remarked Izzmahil. "This must have been payback from last time they came to steal."

Ssyba merely shook her head.

"You shouldn't have chased that gremlin bastard, now that the Cultelari are in town," said Izzmahil, his voice suddenly severe. "This even looks like the job of the Cultelari. You bullied one of them and they wanted pain for it. Real nasty bastards."

Ssyba sprung up from the bed, unable to sit any longer.

"I'm not about to just take it in the ass with a smile on my face," began Ssyba to talk.

It was almost time for her to go and meet with Fagan, let him know that she's up for the task.

The reinforced health and vigor of her body was almost overwhelming, after these last few days of continuous exhaustion and injury. She glanced upon her paw and raised a fist, then unclenched it and flashed her claws out like a set of razor blades. It dawned upon her that most people, especially animals, are living in a perpetual state of bearable illness and ruin, but due to a lack of point of reference, they regard their destitute condition as the norm.

"So that's it? No explanation?" suddenly said Izzmahil with a low grumbling sigh in his voice.

"Lady Tisila concocts such teas, well, they are miraculous," said Ssyba, unsure of what else to say to Izzmahil.

Ssyba only realized that now, with the health vraja potion running through her body and acting its magic, that she had been discovered somehow!

"Lady Tisila truly knows how to make a good tea, hehe..." awkwardly said Ssyba once more, but this time with some tremble in her voice, trying to nonsense her way out of this fiddly situation.

Izzmahil pondered upon her for a while.

"No," he replied. "That was a potion, kitty, don't try to bullshit me, it ain't gonna work!"

The silence fell hard and heavy upon them. Ssyba's face knotted into a frown, her back heaved and clenched and her tail coiled and went rigid, but she remained on the spot. Izzmahil merely snorted at her. He wasn't afraid of a nanza-cat, even if she did possess a soul.

"It couldn't have been a vraja potion that healed me, mister Izzmahil," said Ssyba, staring at Izzmahil with a spine-chilling gleam in her cat eyes. "That would be impossible. Care to check again?"

But Izzmahil stared back at her, remote as a mountain.

"It was," he said with a wheezing tone, "because I brewed it myself and I carried it on my person. And though you may lie, the mystical gate on yourself can not. I suggest you close the damn thing, it leaks white cloud mana all over the fucking place!"

At that exact moment, Ssyba understood the breadth, the sheer vastness of the human beyond those black eyes. What he had lived and what he must have seen, the places that he had traveled as a badau riding on top of hellish entelodonts, might just as well be part of another world. The badawin were, in a sense, more than the simple folk inside the city. They had a truly unique sense of observation and discipline. Even though Ssyba's mystical gate escaped Tisila's scrutiny, it could not escape Izzmahil.

"What… how did you know?" asked Ssyba with a distant and unsure glance.

"Don't be absurd, you had it wide open like the whore's legs. Close that gate before someone else notices it!"

Ssyba closed her mystical gate and immediately after, there was no more trace of mana left around it, as it all evaporated. The poorer the quality of mana, the faster it dissipates.

She rearranged her scattered thoughts and breathed out deeply, deciding within herself:

"I've been discovered but I'll make the best of this situation for now. It actually isn't bad at all considering the fact that I wanted to pursue Izzmahil for help in the first place." She snickered under her breath and her gaze turned cold and firm. "Wait, shouldn't I simply act now and eliminate him? There would be no restriction on me if nobody knows my secret, but it's also true that I would need a human's help at some point, just as I need Fagan. I can not build a good foundation on my own, and Tisila won't do it."

The truth was, Ssyba was not ruthless and cruel like her two brothers, she detested slaughter and she even had somewhat of an admiration for Izzmahil. And besides, for an intelligent animal to kill a human was the most unforgivable crime in Yasha’Lafiq. It was a premeditated crime. If someone ever caught her she would be executed, but before that she would be mercilessly tortured and torn apart for many days as a form of spectacle in order to serve as a warning.

Ssyba calmly evaluated the situation and she decided that it was not worth the risk. When people panic, they make foolish decisions and the pressure of outside factors only intensifies the hastiness of such an ignorant set of actions.

But Ssyba quickly recovered her wits and thanked Izzmahil deeply and sincerely for having the presence of mind to administer her a health vraja potion.

"You would've died," replied Izzmahil with less emotion than Ssyba would have liked. "I saw that your mystical gate was open and overflowing, but that might have been a fluke. Either way you were succumbing to the injuries so I made the unthinkable decision to give you the potion. It's a grade two health potion you see, and with that amount of white cloud mana reacting to it, it was enough to heal you."

"But mister Izzmahil, does that really mean that I have a soul?"

"We'll, at the very least it means you have accumulated mana to spare, for whatever reason."

"And isn't that unusual?" asked Ssyba with a spine-chilling gleam in her cat eyes.

"It is," murmured Izzmahil while shrugging. "Perhaps you are the foretold reincarnation of goddess Marduni."

Marduni, the goddess of birth and rebirth was a deity of intelligent animals, beasts and other non-human beings who lived in the human society. It was in their belief that every living creature was of the same flesh, made by the same godly hands of Marduni, birthed and rebirthed, incarnated and reincarnated until the prophesied Gift will be born, a godlike existence, a beast with a soul, one who would create the afterlife for non-humans.

"Do you really think that?" asked Ssyba.

"Too much is left unexplained in this world," responded Izzmahil at length while pondering the incense rising smoke. "Even the princedom can't cope with all the mysteries of Jord, for a lot is more dangerous than the powers of mankind."

Ssyba raised her head to look at Izzmahil and widened her eyes.

"Really? You think so?"

"I know it, I've seen it! The vast world out there is so magical you won’t believe it, you don’t know how it grinds you unless you've walked it. It’s strange, I tell you, I could tell stories about snakes so large as to blot our beloved river, Na-jid, in a single gulp, and winged snakes who breathe fire hotter than any vraja potion can conjure! There are ruins of an ancient civilization, nothing more than hills and cliffs to your eyes; those were buildings at one point. There are places we in the badawin caravans call dryad groves, where life spills into our world from yet another world entirely, completely unchained and unaccounted for. In these spots, there are plants far more dangerous than whole armies of mankind!"

"I can't imagine a banana tree moving and battling," said Ssyba with bemused politeness.

"Those things within the dryad groves are not simple plants, nor are they animal in nature. They are perhaps shadows of another world. Have I told you the story of Hauras?"

"Don't think you have," said Ssyba plainly.

"A badawin legend..."

***

At the time of worldly creation, when there was heaven on earth and the earth was in heaven, the first human was made pitiful and fragile, to be constantly chased down and bullied by larger beasts. Why, it's because heaven was a physical place within Jord and no soul was needed to travel between heaven and earth. All beasts were free to roam all the realms of existence and creation.

Now, the first human was small and would often hide in the dark and under the cover of brushes and moss, in the divine domain of the dryads. Hauras was the first human's name.

Having heard of Hauras' struggles, the dryad known as Plight pondered and came with a solution, and she said:

"I shall give you the drink of Mastery, but you must also give a part of yourself to me and my garden."

And Hauras agreed and was made intelligent and mighty. With his newfound power, he conquered all that he could lay his hand on. With such power however, came the envy and contempt of all other beasts, and they banded together and so his enemies multiplied. Soon, Hauras found himself kneeling before Plight once more, saying:

"The beasts of the world formed groups to come against me. I need the help of the dryads!"

Plight, upon pondering, replied:

"I made a mistake in giving you all that Mastery. I shall split you in half because your strength of arm and sharpness of mind is world breaking and the beasts are concerned. You will no longer be alone to battle on your own though, so rejoice."

Thus, the woman came into existence and together with the woman, children that Hauras had sired. He wasn't as strong as before because his time was slowly taken away by Plight and age caught up to him, but he had many hands to help him in times of need. The age of war between man and beast followed.

While all of this happened on earth, the lords of the heavens observed and were not pleased.

"If humanity conquered the earth, it would only be a matter of time until they conquer the heavens!" they all agreed.

And the lords of heavens separated heaven from earth, then descended with stars, thunder, fire, wind, ice and all the elements upon humanity. The age of war between man and universe followed.

For the third time, Hauras knelt at the dryad's heel, pleading:

"The heavenly lords are decimating my sons and daughters and have barred us all from their domain. We are tired, starving and in pain, ruled by fear and antagonism. Help us!"

Plight pondered and said:

"I can not help you. If we, the dryads, aid you against them, then this world will surely end."

And Hauras walked out of her grove with sadness in his old and battered heart. He went alone on top of a mountain and sat upon a rock, too exhausted and drained to do anything else. The lord of death in heaven, unexpectedly, took pity on Hauras and descended upon the mountain in the form of a spider.

"There's a fine thread that I have, me," he whispered in Hauras's ear. "It can't get you out of here if ya tie something onto it."

"Like a gift or a present? But I have nothing," said Hauras pitifully. "The beasts of earth and the lords of heavens battle against me and they have taken everything that I ever had."

Both Hauras and the spider lord of death sat in silence, until Hauras said:

"I have nothing else, so I offer you my own life in return."

The lord of death agreed and wove a thread for Hauras to grab onto.

"What about my body?" desperately called Hauras.

"Leave it behind, don't cling to it" responded the lord of death. "It's too heavy for me to pull."

Before departing into the heavenly realm, however, Hauras said:

"But my lord, there are my children here. I can not leave them all alone."

"Then I shall weave the thread of hope for them to hold onto, so that they will know their way to heaven when the time of death comes. I ask for nothing in return, because hope is cheap, easy to hold onto and also easy to lose."

Hauras agreed, and the spider lord of heaven pulled him from the earth into heaven.

***

By mid-day Ssyba had mostly recovered her sense and sharpness of wit. The spell of the vraja potion returned to Ssyba a feeling she had not known since her time as a cub. What had been anxiety in her then had widened into a mental stamina that was indescribable. Restlessness became vigor, and self-fear became clarity.

"What are you going to do?" asked Izzmahil while tossing Ssyba another glass of nad'm. "Tisila made me promise that once you wake up, you're no longer allowed to enter the house. The Cultelari, you see... The badawin have a saying and it goes: this is the straw that broke the camel's back."

Ssyba blinked quizzically. That was no lie, no jest that came out of Izzmahil’s mouth, she could sense the worry in his voice despite his hardened outside. Izzmahil was one of the toughest men that Ssyba had ever met, he could put the fiercest nanza-cats to shame. To Ssyba it was clear that Izzmahil and Tisila might probably have fallen in love at their age, a simple love born out of need for companionship.

"What is there else to do, mister Izzmahil," said Ssyba somewhat troubled. "The only way is forward."

She exhaled a long breath and leaned back. Tisila might have forgiven her latest outburst of violence, when Ssyba pushed her, might have looked past many of Ssyba’s misgivings as an animal, might have even accepted the fact that she was an equal in essence. But the fact that the Cultelari had come into her own house twice, it was simply too much to look past. Her fright and her worry wouldn't relent.

"Well for starters, you could attend to the prince's Declaration," suggested Izzmahil with a playful wink. "There's a large crowd promised today in the northern square, rich people too, the stalls are unattended, there's chaos to be sure."

Something genuine glittered in the badau's eyes, something implying a mischievous sense of wisdom and cunning.

"Is it today already? I don't know mister Izzmahil…"

"You should go," urged the badau further. "It's not often these days that a prince gets to ascend to the First Throne, and who knows, maybe something good will fall out of the sky right in your lap."

Ssyba hesitated, but an urge began to take bloom into her own heart.

"Before you leave, do forgive Tisila," suddenly said Izzmahil, standing up and taking Ssyba's paw in his own two hands. "She is alone and afraid, don't take it to heart."

From this moment on, Ssyba knew, this human, the badau named Izzmahil, would look upon her as an equal.

"That's quite alright, mister Izzmahil," said Ssyba with a shiver of exhilaration in her body. "I'll see you around."

"See you later kitty."