Zarrhdad. Oasis City of the Ardashir region of the Tresian Dunes, the ancient name that unites all of Trestaria under one banner- multifaceted but united in purpose.

So said the travel pamphlet anyway, and Saila knew enough not to doubt the accuracy of such things.

That said, her opinion differed on the presentation. The pamphlet- given to them as they entered by a jolly individual in elaborate dress- talked up the beauty of the city, the fresh-air of its market district, and the vibrancy of its people.

About the only thing Saila agreed upon was the size- Zahrrdad was vast, too vast to take in all at once, so she occupied herself with reading the little guide as they went down the street.

“Where we off to, anyway?” Saila asked. “A bar? Maybe find a hotel or something to rest and prepare ourselves?”

“Doctor’s office,” was Noble’s reply.

“What, really? We just spent like, four months with a great doctor, what else do we need?”

“A couple things, an- woah! Woah, horse.”

Deep blue and shiny like a beetle, puttering through the road and cross their path, a car shot past with fearsome rattle- any closer and it could have hit them.

“Stay in the horse-lane!” the driver shouted, already fading from sight.

The air turned bitter in the car’s wake, the mood turning with it.

“Asshole!” Saila shouted after him.

“The nerve,” Noble muttered.

“Some people! What the hell are they thinking, driving like that?”

Noble shrugged. “Comes with the territory I suppose- big city and all.”

“I mean, I guess,” Saila sighed. “Zarrhdad is huge, needing something faster makes sense….”

Poor Matchsticks just grumbled, a defeated whiny.

“Ah don’t worry Matchsticks, you’re better than some stinky old car.”

He responded with what could only be described as an exasperated raspberry, and continued clopping along the cobblestone sidewalk.

“Still no excuse for poor driving,” Noble concluded. “Drivers back home were a lot more careful.”

“Didn’t you live on a mountain? Exova’s got these stacked cities, right?”

“That they do. Makes you a much stronger driver, if you risk it.”

Saila couldn’t help but laugh at the imagery, grateful the smog on them lifted as swiftly as the car’s exhaust had. “Yeah, suppose not- so, you were saying? Why’re we off to see some city doc anyway?”

“Well…,” Noble rummaged about in his cloak, and took out a folded paper. “I need you to get something. Nothing too tricky. You hand this over, wait a bit. I’ll be off getting us a place to stay.”

“Tch. Sounds boring.”

Despite that she snatched the paper from his hand and unfolded it. It was penned in a very tidy, gentle hand. In Kaigan- near she could tell, given she couldn’t read the damn thing.

“What is this?”

Noble chuckled to himself. “You’ll see, little lady.”

Saila rolled her eyes- even after four months, he was still himself. A part of her was thankful for it.

Another part really wanted to know what the note said.

###

“This won’t take long, you be good,” Noble had told her. Saila had just brushed him off with an unconcerned wave- by this point, a clearly understood form of public affection.

Then he’d left, Match- the horse grumbling his horse-noises all the while.

“Look, it’s not my fault. I want to be there for her,” Noble mumbled- to himself he insisted, but the fact that he was pausing to let the great clay-red stallion beneath him answer was proof enough of that lie.

Another gruff whinny.

“Some things need to be done private, is all. When it’s done, and when she’s ready, we can talk,” Noble continued. “And it’s not that I’m leaving her alone or nothing- we’ll be back before she’s done- besides, I’ve things to do as well, away from prying little salamanders.”

A rough spot- some broken cobbles in the horse-lane- caused the horse to step roughly.

If Noble hadn’t known better, he’d suspect he’d tried to throw him.

“Okay, sorry,” he said, just in case. “The little lady deserves to know what I’m doing. I’ll tell her- straight and true. But fact is I need to take this sort of thing solo- my brother has certain… tastes, that means in a city like this, well…”

Every city had them, though they were never anything Noble had an interest in. Seedier establishments with poor food and worse drinks, but oh the sights one could see- that’s how Knave had described it to him once. Drachfestung’s lowest tiers were just under those houses of ill-repute, and many of Knave’s hard stolen dollars were spent up there.

Zarrhdad was no different; sheer shawls hung across the alleys, sweet incense and smoke wafted forth from silken curtains half-drawn- the noonday sun was just beginning to dip, and those that lived in the night were beginning their morning routines. Bright colours washed the walls fresh and lively, with signs in Felisian advertising goods and services aplenty.

There was an air of urgency in it, like they had to get it ready.

No doubt the occupation had exacerbated things, an underlying wound on an otherwise prosperous and age-old tradition of bar dancers and smoke-dens. That sort of pressure placed upon them by the war stank, like poison in the air. A familiar scent.

No true choice came when under duress.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Well,” Noble concluded, “I just think she’d get distracted. Or accosted.”

The horse, unsatisfied, spat at the ground derisively.

Noble sighed. “You’re right. I’ll make it up to her. I swear it, you damn horse.”

And so they walked on.

###

The answer to Saila’s wondering, it seemed, was ‘make her wait for about an hour, in the cleanest, whitest room she’d ever damn saw’.

Rows of seats, yet few occupied, all set at equal distance from each other like a well-ordered garden. Sterile to a fault, reminiscent of the story Noble told her. A sign above the entry way- a dove alighting on a windowsill with a splash of red paint and the words ‘Caladrius Pharmaceuticals’, under larger Felisian text that no doubt said the same, was just about the only colour she’d seen since entering the place.

So, this is how Felisia runs things, huh? She thought to herself.

At least she had the pamphlet.

‘Come visit the much-beloved Ardashir Center, the crown jewel of our wonderful little oasis. A font of pristine fresh-water and the foundation of what would become our lovely home, it has been commemorated in honour with the Oasis Fountain, an ever-flowing art piece as designed by-’

Saila zoned out of the ad-print, and focused on the pictures. It looked beautiful enough- a brilliant beauty of a woman walking along a stone path as though emerging from the depths of some hellish underground, surrounded by real oasis-trees laden with limes and lemons. Water sprung forth from various places around her, making her look that much more radiant and majestic, a sight to behold.

I wonder if she had a water-mancy thing… Saila scrubbed at her chin, feet up over the back of another chair.

She played with that thought a bit, mulling over it like well-worn leather.

How close had she been to the supernatural, in her life?

Pretty close, obviously. The dancing sparks inside her chest was clear enough of that.

But what else?

The friar? No, he was too mundane, couldn’t be.

The former soldiers Noble had dispatched? Also unlikely, they’d have fought with it.

Maybe one of those girls in Samudr-tat…? No, they had been fiery in their appeal, but nothing truly special.

Beyond the obvious encounters she’d rather not dwell on, and her own self of course, what else was there?

“She was shaken, but he told her ‘Worry not, your child will be graced by flame! She is blessed by the salamander!’. And when I was born, I breathed not air, but fire!”

The thought crossed her mind and left red-hot footprints.

Is… was my dad actually a salamander? Or maybe he as some kinda fire-mancer like I am? I mean that’d have to be it right? Mom was human, and I’m human, so… he had to be a Something! But… what? I… hm. I wonder…

“Saila?” a voice called, breaking her concentration.

An old woman in a doctor’s coat, sand-gold hair dry and wiry, looking about for her as though she wasn’t nearly the only damn person here.

“Uh, here!” Saila popped to her feet, pitching the pamphlet over her shoulder onto her chair.

“Right this way dear,” she said, a smile in her voice if not her face.

Saila followed, but there was a tension in the air, one she couldn’t quite place.

“So, uh… what’s this for, exactly?”

The doctor sighed, muttering something about “damn fools…” as they reached her office. “Oh, nothing you need worry your head about. A simple talk, a blood test, and… well, we’ll see what you need from there.”

Not a fully satisfying answer, but enough of one.

Worst come to worse… she was ready. She felt it in the heat in her chest.

###

“I’m looking for a man with a smile in his eyes.”

How many times had Noble asked that question?

How many times had he seen a flitting shade across their eyes- a stain, or scar, left in his brother’s passing. Signs he’d made his mark, an imposing figure that they wanted to forget, somewhere inside their hearts and minds.

A little tug of that string and the fact he’d even been there would drain from them.

“A man with- oh, you must mean the Jack of Knaves.”

Somehow this was a more frightening answer.

The barkeep chuckled to himself, then lowered his tone a fraction. “Course, I shouldn’t say it too loudly. You know what those old boys will do if they think we’re a rat.”

“Can’t say I do,” Noble said, and for the first time did not need to put on a false confusion. “I’m… from out of town.”

“Ah, ah, I see- felt you might be a ranger or some-such” he said, then he poured a tall glass of heavy, gold liquid and slung it down the counter toward the expecting patron. “The Suite Six, they’re called, though they’ve a good deal more than six to them. A local gang of outlaws.”

“Let me guess- four months old?”

The barkeep shrugged, his thick moustache curling with a grin. “Unsure. Perhaps a drink, to loosen the old memory?”

Noble paid the man, and got what he paid for.

The long and short of it was this; a gang of hoodlums that had always tried to push their weight around suddenly gained the strength to do so. Offered protection from Felisian occupiers, a rare commodity and well treasured. The secret, the barkeep told him, was their new enforcer- Jack of Knaves, a man that matched the description well enough in kind.

No one had seen him beneath his cloak, save for the eyes, but the streak of cruelty in his ways struck a familiar enough tune that Noble could sing along.

Of course, meeting him- or the Suite Six, was out of the question. No one met them, especially not here.

Noble got the message, and bought another round.

“Cards, if you can’t believe it,” the barkeep laughed. “In the back room of the Hidden Truth every dusk, just a few blocks down from here. Can’t miss it. Tell them you’d like to add a joker to the deck- they’ll understand. Just keep in mind what you’re risking.”

Cards. Great, Noble thought. A finger twitched.

“Sounds good,” he said. “I can do cards.”

“Your funeral, my friend. Just keep in mind what you’re risking, is all I’ll say.”

“I will,” was his reply, short and sweet.

On his way out, he mulled it over. Thought about what this risked.

It was worth it.

###

The talk had been a nice one- the doctor far kinder than she’d expected, and curious about all sorts of things. It touched on… awkward, heavy thoughts she didn’t want to linger on, but ultimately left her feeling something soft and gentle in her chest.

A nice buffer to the sharpness of the blood-test, and the sticky amber-coloured bandage on the inside bend of her elbow.

Still… Saila thought, kicking at her heels as she waited for Noble to arrive. It’s not all bad.

She looked at the semi-opaque bottle the good doctor had given her when all was said and done, shook it around to watch the little blue pills dance.

To tell the truth, Saila had suspected this. You couldn’t hide every scrap of information from someone for four months- especially not a noisy little lizard like her. Sure, she couldn’t read Kaigan, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d noticed things, like the markers on the page or the fact that the doctor hadn’t looked that surprised to match her name to her face.

But it didn’t matter.

It had to be magic. A supernatural sort of thing, it had to be. Partly because it’d felt impossible back in Dehali, so secluded from the world. She’d read about it here and there, but it was only a flickering dream among the dancing sparks.

Partly because of what they’d do for her, what they’d do to her… she was a girl in heart and soul and all the ways that mattered to her, save one- and this would help that. More to the point, it’d make it harder for others to deny it. Rare though it had been since journeying with Noble, she had to admit it struck a nerve when it happened.

Yes, that was it. This was a sort of magic.

Bastard… you should be here for this she thought, sniffling because of the sand and wind and lingering smog and nothing else. But I get it. I get it.

Noble was, ultimately, a sentimental soul. It was one of his better traits, she had to admit.

If he was here, he’d have flooded his damn gas mask.

Instead, Saila rubbed the wet from her eyes, and alternated between staring at her future, and rubbing at the small injuries that she’d taken on the way to it.

They were a small discomfort; one she’d suffer gladly.

Then Noble came tromping in on Matchstick’s back, calling her name with an apology for being late.

Time to get back to business.

“You alright, Saila?”

“C- course I’m fine, solider-man!” Saila all but leapt onto her place on the saddle, storing her well-won medication away, and whapped him on the back for good measure. “Okay, what’s next?

“Everything go okay?”

After a pause she hoped felt brief, “better than okay. Honest.”

“Guess you won’t need this, then?” Noble laughed, and he handed something her way.

A wooden box that read; Smokin’ Lady Matchsticks. A more dignified woman graced the package than she remembered, though the flowing pink dress that so captured her imagination still clung to her in all the places that best enticed a growing girl her age.

“Y- Where did you-?”

“It’s just a box of matches, little lady. Not that hard to find.”

Said with a sort of swaggering confidence, as ever.

Saila pocketed it, laughing through fading tears, and gave him a few strikes across the back for good measure, dull metal ringing against her wrists.

Moments like these sparkled in her eyes. She wished they’d go on forever.

######