Why must I be so different? If I didn’t choose this, why must I endure all their hate?

- Uuriintuya, Second Prophet of the Adjha’nai. Dated 70 b.f.

Jaquil’s coyote emerged from below deck, swiveled its head around until it spotted Silas and hesitantly walked toward him. Gnarly wriggled beneath his cloak and let himself fall to the deck as he stood facing the coyote. The two creatures faced each other for a moment. Slowly, Gnarly took a step forward, one arm outstretched. The coyote didn’t move, its orange eyes fixed on Gnarly. Its large nose sniffed the air as Gnarly took another step forward.

With one small finger, Gnarly booped the wet nose. “Creak.”

The two stood frozen, Gnarly’s arm still outstretched. Silas and Jaquil observed the exchange, the former with worry, the latter with amusement. As Gnarly’s hand tried to grab a hold of the coyote’s nose, the large canine retreated, using Jaquil’s legs as cover. Gnarly climbed back into the folds of Silas’ cloak.

Jaquil turned to Nurana, her hands bound tight together by the shackles. “Rachnami will escort you back the rest of the way to Nu-Taquim. You are also, by order of the Empress, forbidden from mentioning anything of what you saw here.” Jaquil’s dark eyes looked at each of them in turn. “Do you understand?”

“We do,” Nurana answered. “Do you plan on going back?”

“Yes. I still have a mission to fulfill,” he said, his head turning towards the ruins where the dragon had raged.

Nurana moved to stand up, as gracefully as her bound hands would allow. “Then please let me thank you again for rescuing us from the Crimson Dunes.”

“No need to thank me, thank the Empress.” Somehow, Jaquil made it sound like an order.

Nurana bowed her head. “We will, given the chance, but I don’t fathom we will have the honor.”

Jaquil flashed them a half-smile and nudged them towards Rachnami, who stood waiting near the back of the Sandcruiser. “Safe travels.”

“And to you.”

Silas tried not to glare at the tall Drakhonian as he followed Zaya and Nurana down the Cruiser and towards the Karash, a palanquin sitting on its back. Silas’ muscles twitched, begging him to let loose. With so much wood around him, he could wreak havoc on this ship. They wouldn’t even see it coming. All he needed to do was snap the shackles with a tug of his wrists. In that moment, with Jaquil’s stare burning into his back, there was nothing Silas wanted more.

Yet, he refused to give in to the urges, awakened in him by the Taint. Moreover, revealing his practice of body enhancement was bound to result in questions he didn't want to answer. Artists on this side of The Spine didn’t use their powers to fortify their bodies. He was a rarity, and it would be best to remember that.

As Silas moved down toward the palanquin atop the lizard, the reptile locked eyes with him. In lieu of a window, the palanquin sported thick metal bars. Silas didn’t need to have visited a prison to know this was a cage rather than a carriage. Rachnami opened the door wordlessly.

Silas hesitated for a heartbeat before he followed Nurana and Zaya inside. A series of clicks came from the other side as the door was locked behind them. They sat down on a small, hard wooden bench, a pot held in place in the corner. Silas looked at the shackles binding his wrists. They looked fragile, not meant for someone like him. Metal creaked as he flexed his wrists.

“No,” Zaya hissed from beside him.

Silas shot her a confused look. “If I wanted, I could free—”

“I know,” she cut him off. “Not do it. They will know.”

Silas’ reply got stuck in his lungs as their cage lurched forward. Nurana leaned over to him. “If we escape, they will find us. We need to go peacefully until we know why they gave us one of their Karash to escort us to Nu-Taquim.”

“Does this look like an escort to you?” Silas hissed, gesturing at the thick metal bars.

“Think, Silas. Jaquil told us he was acting upon the Empress’s direct orders. Why do you think the secondary head of the royal guard is in the Crimson Dunes, days after we escaped from Al-Talash?”

Realization dawned on Silas. “You think that—”

“Yes. They know. We need to lay low and decide what to tell them if they interrogate us. Which they will. Al-Talash has lain uncovered for over a millennium, Silas. It is the birthplace of Drakhonian invention. And now, it has been found again. By us.”

Zaya let her head bump against the back wall of their cell. “Have bad feeling about this.”

Gnarly crawled out of Silas’ cloak to pet her on the cheek. “Creak.”

“So what do we tell them?”

“The truth,” Nurana answered him. “It won't take long for them to piece the puzzle together and realize it's not a coincidence that Jaquil found us in the Crimson Dunes. If his report doesn’t coincide with what we tell them, we’re unlikely to see the light of day again.”

Silas pulled the metal cube out of his pocket and glanced at Nurana. “Alright, but not a word about this thing,” he whispered. “If we uncovered the lost city for them, we can at least keep a souvenir.”

“Yes. Looks interesting,” Zaya poked the cube with a finger, frowning in disappointment when nothing happened.

“Whatever this is, we've seen it on each statue of Aqueel all around the city. It has to be important. What if they are looking for it?” Nurana interjected.

“It could have as well been buried under the avalanche of sand after the roof of the academy collapsed. Doesn’t mean they know we have it. Besides, it’s probably broken, anyway.”

“I still don’t like it. If this comes back at us in any way, we all know whose idea it was to keep it.”

Silas rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure.”

The dunes sped by, gradually losing their red sheen as the Karash brought them westwards. Silas closed his eyes, letting the soft breeze coming from the desert caress his face as he dozed off.

He awoke to Gnarly pulling his nose. “Creak!”

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” he grumbled.

Gnarly jumped out and down from the bank while gripping the thick metal bars and pointed at something outside.

“That be?” Zaya trailed off and pointed into the distance.

“Yes,” Nurana answered with a smile. “Nu-Taquim, the capital of the Drakhonian Empire.”

Thick, smooth sandstone walls drew themselves across the desert, so high the evening sun barely peeked over their tops. Rectangular watchtowers stood in regular intervals with large glass windows looking out over the desert. Even from the distance, Silas could spot small figures walking on the high walls. The walls grew the closer they got to the gate.

Half a dozen guards stood near the gate, sheltered by the shade the wall threw over the scorching desert. They wore light brigandines with slitted helmets. Although their armor was lighter than the chainmail guards in Ceraviehl tended to wear, the sheer heat had to make wearing anything else than a wide robe nearly unbearable.

An emblem of a horned viper wreathing itself around a golden spear with a black tip was engraved on each of their chests, the gold of the weapon glinting in the desert sun.

The guards waved them through after a word from Rachnami. How did they even build these gigantic walls? He had visited Andos a few times with his family, but the walls of the Ceraviehlian capital paled compared to Nu-Taquim. Far in the distance, the Southern Sea marked the bottom of the city, a small bay carving its way into Nu-Taquim.

Through the tiny window of their cage, the shouts of people hollering their wares reached them, many of the inhabitants draped in wide, white sashes, their carts drawn by odd, indifferent-looking animals. Nurana later told him they were called camels.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The street was wide enough that another carriage, also drawn by Karash, passed them by. “What’s wrong?” Zaya interrupted Silas’ gawking as she saw the look on Nurana’s face.

“Nothing. I just didn’t think I’d visit the home of my people in a cage.”

Silas raised an eyebrow. “Earlier, you said it was an escort.”

“I was being optimistic.”

“Mmhh.”

The door to their little cage swung open. Rachnami stood beside the door, the sun shining onto her black hair and illuminating the scowl on her face. A large building towered over her, Drakhonian letters drawn over its beige façade.

She stared up at them, one hand on her weapon strapped to her waist. “Are you waiting for something?”

Gnarly was the first to hop out of the wagon, creaking at the unfamiliar sights. The walls of Nu-Taquim towered over them like looming shadows. Silas couldn’t imagine anyone ever trying to lay siege to the city.

The infirmary had at least three floors, with colorful panels of glass in each of the many windows that reflected the evening sun. The statues lining both sides of the path made the building seem more like a manor than a hospital. The golden stone under their boots was smooth and polished to a fault.

Despite the beauty of the hospital, Silas couldn’t help but feel like a prisoner as he was led towards the entrance, his hands bound before him. It would be best to get out of this city as soon as possible.

Those involved in the schemes of those in power tended to not live long. A refreshing wave of cool air greeted them as Rachnami led them into the entrance hall. The desk clerk greeted her with a respectful nod, quickly glancing at the emblem stitched into Rachnami’s sash.

“Secondary Head nur-Tarosh found these unfortunate adventurers in the Crimson Dunes. They have been heavily exposed to The Taint and require urgent care. Please see what you can do for them. You are free to remove their shackles as soon as you see fit.”

“Of course.” The clerk made a few annotations on a board filled with sand, the grains immediately hardening after he lifted his pen. “Have they already experienced surges?”

“Yes.”

The clerk looked over them, his gaze resting on Silas. “Alani!” She called out to a young woman standing near the desk. “There are a few rooms empty on the first floor, please escort them to them.”

Alani gave the group a cautious glance before dipping her head. “Of course.”

Two guards wielding long spears took positions on either side of the group as Alani stood in front of them. “Please follow me.”

“Thank you.” Nurana was the first to move, seemingly unperturbed by the two guards in heavy armor.

Silas threw a casual look around the hospital. Rachnami stood bent over the desk, whispering something to the clerk, whose eyes flickered briefly to Silas before returning his attention to Rachnami.

Every inch of Silas’ body screamed at him to break out of there. Taking a deep breath, he forced the thought down again. He was aware of The Taint influencing him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Why did the Secondary Head of the Royal Guard expend resources to save a few young adventurers lost in the Crimson Dunes? Neither had they been asked for any sort of payment. They must want something from them. Silas only hoped that when they inevitably made their demands, he would be able to repay them.

With the fabled lost city of Al-Talash rediscovered after millennia, he preferred to not owe a debt to anyone associated with the Empress of the Drakhonian Empire.

They walked through half the building before Alani stopped in front of a heavy metal door. Pulling out a large key, she unlocked the door and stepped back. The door swung open on its own and Alani led them through. The two guards standing on each side eyed them as they passed. Silas glanced back at the door. It was thick enough that Silas doubted he would be able to break it. This place was more than a simple infirmary.

“This part is reserved for those afflicted by The Taint,” Alani explained. “We will do our very best to treat the influence the cursed sands had on you, but we cannot give you any guarantee. It is not a disease as we know it. To assure the treatment works as best as possible, I must ask you to cooperate with our healers, even if the methods may be unpleasant at times.”

Nurana gave Alani a strained smile. “Of course. Thank you for providing us with you care.”

“It is the least we can do.”

Alani left soon after, escorted back by the guards.

Each of them had their separate room and were asked to visit only each other’s rooms until a healer came to give them a diagnosis. Metal scratching against his wrist, Silas battled every moment not to snap the brittle shackles off his wrists.

Gnarly, bored, had started to experiment with shaping different weapons from the vines he grew out of his body. He had tried a bow but hadn’t managed to get the string quite right. It broke apart each time and after the third try, Gnarly slumped down and gave up.

Once in a while, someone in beige robes would come in, asking Silas to take one medicine or another. He worried that someone from the staff would be listening to his conversations with Zaya or Nurana, so they’d decided to stick with the plan and get out of this place as soon as they were allowed.

On the third day, a new healer came in, this one wearing an elegant silk white robe that went all the way down to his feet. He greeted Silas with a smile that accentuated the wrinkles in the corner of his mouth.

“Silas, I presume?”

Silas stood up from the chair he had been sitting in, hands bound before him. “Yes.”

“Thank you for being so patient with us. I realize it is a most unpleasant predicament you find yourself in, but unfortunately, we can’t take any risks with those afflicted with The Taint.”

Silas tried to smile. “I understand.”

“I’m here to have a look at you and see whether The Taint is contained enough to take these off. To do so, I must ask you not to resist me trying to take a peek at your Landscape. Do not worry; this won’t hurt, I merely need to touch you to be able to see how you are faring against The Taint. Is that fine with you?”

“Of course.”

The man gave him another smile. “Great.”

Silas flinched slightly as the man’s cold hand touched his chest. Deep green scales covered the back of his hand. “I will take a look at your Landscape now. I will only look at it from the outside, but if you could guide me towards your Landscape, that would be much appreciated.”

“I will try.”

The man nodded and closed his eyes. A slight shock went through Silas as he noticed another presence inside of his body, and he had to suppress the urge to repel it. He slowly drew it towards his Landscape, being careful to keep its border stable and tight.

“By the Ten, your Landscape is vast, young boy! Quite impressive, I must say.”

The words came from far away, even though Silas knew the healer was sitting right next to him. “Can you see anything?”

“Please give me a moment.”

The presence shifted to the border of his Landscape, stopping occasionally as sparks of violet pulsed from within. Silas tensed as it grew nearer. Then, in a flash of energy, the healer’s presence spiked, stabbing into the border of his Landscape. The barely contained simmering anger in Silas surged up. How dare that old man try to access his Landscape?

Expulsing a blast of energy from his Landscape, Silas lashed out to overwhelm the healer’s presence. Tendrils of brown and black mist shot out towards the invading force, The Taint’s purple lightning flashing within. Silas almost lost control of the mist as the Taint’s influence caused his grip to waver. Sudden nausea overcame him, and he gagged.

The healer gasped and immediately withdrew his presence. His dark skin lost some of its color. “No need to attack me like that, my boy, I was merely testing your Landscape’s reaction to foreign influence. You have competent control over your Landscape, I must say.”

“I’m sorry for attacking you, I reacted out of instinct,” Silas lied. He didn’t know why the healer had tried to access his Landscape, but Silas was certain that hadn’t been an accident. The action had been too coordinated. He doubted the healer would be strong enough to gain control of his Landscape even if he broke the barrier, but letting anyone inside his Landscape was not something Silas would ever allow.

“Do not fret over it, this was not the first time a patient reacted strongly,” the man said.

“How bad is it?”

“Well, the good thing is that because of the unusual size of your Inner Landscape and it already having at least two Arts within, I deem it stable enough not to result in any sudden outbursts. For now,” he added. “Honestly, with the amount of Taint you have been subjected to, I’m surprised how you kept it contained in the first place.”

“Creak!”

The healer threw a glance at Gnarly. “The bad news, however, is that while your Landscape seems to be stable, it is extremely unlikely to be able to exude the Taint on its own. Once the Taint forms these little clusters which you surely have noticed by now, it becomes notoriously difficult to remove them without permanently crippling the practitioner.

“From my brief scan, I could already spot multiple of these clusters. With the Taint firmly rooted in your Landscape, it may influence the control over your Arts in unpredictable ways. I’m sorry.”

Silas clenched his fist. Surely there must be some kind of solution. Was the healer lying to him? “What does this mean?”

The man looked at him with sad eyes. “The Taint is more than a simple disease. It is a self-replicating corruption in magical form. Early symptoms include mood swings and a short temper. Nightmares are also documented, and some patients inflict self-harm without realizing it. In later stages, patients become prone to aggressive and violent behaviour. During these surges, the Taint corrupts their Arts and warps them in unpredictable ways.

Now you might understand why you were brought here in shackles. We try to treat the symptoms as much as possible, but once the Taint forms clusters within an Artist’s Inner Landscape, it will spread until there is nothing left to consume, and the Artist is lost to the Taint. I truly wish there was more we could do. I’m sorry.”

This couldn’t be. They hadn’t made it out of the Crimson Dunes just to succumb to the Taint. There had to be another way. “How long do you think will it take until…” Silas trailed off.

The healer shook his head. “I cannot say for certain. Honestly, I’m surprised that you are still stable. We have a room designated for patients afflicted with the Taint where you can see how much control over your Arts you still have. Since this is different for every patient, we provide you with half a fortnight to test this out for yourself.

“Please note that due to the inherent unpredictable nature of your condition, you will be observed during your stay here in the infirmary. That being said, since your Landscape is stable for now, we can finally get rid of your constraints. Please hold out your hands.”

The healer tapped the shackles once, and they clicked open.

“Thank you.”

The healer dipped his head. “Do you have any more questions?”

Silas massaged his wrists as he thought for a moment, trying to digest the gravity of the entire situation. “What did you mean earlier when you said some people have sudden outbursts?”

The healer’s many wrinkles crunched up as the man cringed. “Some patients’ Landscapes are not as resilient as yours. During the spreading of the Taint, some patients experience surges of their corrupted Arts, resulting in outbursts of energy that oftentimes hurt those nearby.”

Silas didn’t believe him. Even if the Taint influenced their Landscape, there had to be a way to keep the energy contained and stop it from spreading. “Thank you for taking off my shackles.”

The healer smiled again and moved to stand up. “Best of luck to you,” he said, turning his back on Silas as he left the room.