I was surprised to see a human leading the tribes of the Sadmora. Now that Kha is dead, the tribes have begun to scatter before me. I shall purge them from these lands like the scourge they are. Every last one of them.

- Elusco, Bane of the Sadmora. Dated 66 b.f.

The carriage came to a sudden halt. The door opened and an impatient Nianda stood before them. “We’ve arrived. Follow me.”

Silas stepped out, taking a moment to marvel at his surroundings. A polished statue of a woman thrusting a golden spear at the skies stood in a large fountain spraying cristalline water around her imposing form. The way the water circled her body, it almost seemed as if the statue was controlling the streams around her.

The city’s walls looming over them blocked out most of the scorching desert sun, its smooth arkose looking like it was recently polished. Half a dozen guards patrolled the perimeter, their bodies veiled with white muslin.

Nurana took one foot out of the carriage and cursed silently. “Let me do the talking, we are at the Empress’ palace. If they separate us, stick to what we discussed,” she whispered as Zaya joined her.

Gnarly nodded. “Creak.”

They were led through a series of corridors and hallways, each one decorated with paintings and detailed statues. After at least three flights of stairs, they came into a large room with tables and wooden chairs with elegantly carved inlays. Considering how scarce wood was in these party, they had to cost a fortune.

“Wait here. Someone will be with you shortly. You may help yourself to the refreshments,” Nianda gestured towards the plates of cookies and carafes on one of the tables.

Nianda disappeared through one of the large, ornamented doors, leaving the four of them standing there. Silas shot a look at one of the guards by the door. If it weren’t for the dark eyes peeking out from the veil, they might as well have been statues.

Silas moved to sit down, keeping one eye on the guards observing them. He could feel their gaze on him, the disdain in their eyes unmistakable. After the war of Bounty’s Reach, he didn’t think there were many Ceraviehlians left in Nu-Taquim. Instinctively, he reached out to his Landscape, bile rising in his stomach before he released his hold on it again. He needed to find a solution for the Taint. He couldn’t go on like this, constantly trying to keep it from bursting out. Even now, the Taint was revolting against the tenuous control he had over it, trying to claw its way free from his Landscape.

Meanwhile, Zaya let herself fall into one of the sofas and began eyeing the tray of cookies. Her hand hovered over them as she contemplated which one to try first.

“Creak!” Gnarly pointed to a cookie with jam in its center.

Zaya took the cookie and gave it to Gnarly, who broke it in half and offered one half to Zaya. The viscous jam almost dripped onto the satin sheets.

Gnarly closed his eyes in delight as he munched on the cookie. “Creak.” Seeing Silas watching him, he abruptly stopped chewing and gestured to the tray of cookies. “Creak?”

They did look pretty tasty. “I’m good.”

“Creak?”

Silas grumbled as he took a small pastry from the tray and took a bite. “You should try them,” he mumbled to Nurana, mouth half-full.

The tall girl sat as stiff as a board on the chair, hands folded in her lap. “I don’t think now is the time.”

Zaya arched an eyebrow at her. “Always time for good food.”

Nurana sent her a look and Zaya stopped lounging. While Zaya might be able to fool Nurana with her attitude, Silas knew she wasn’t as relaxed as she tried to appear.

One of the doors opened. Nianda stepped out, flanked by two guards. “To my great surprise, the Empress herself has deemed you to be worthy of her attention. Conduct yourselves accordingly.” She turned to leave, beckoning them to follow with one hand.

Nurana shot a look at Silas, her eyes wide. Zaya fumbled with the end of her braid.

“Just copy what I do, and whatever happens, do not look her in the eye,” Nurana whispered to them as they entered.

Silas wracked his brain what the Empress could want from them. So much for not getting drawn into things. Gnarly shrank down, hiding in Silas’ cloak. Silas tried to comfort his friend by projecting a confidence he didn’t feel himself.

Nianda stopped before a door that had to be at least nine feet tall. In the design etched into the surface of the door, a dais and throne was pictured at the back of a large ceremonial chamber. Nianda turned around and waited for the guards to open the large doors.

It took Silas a moment to realize the design on the doors was an exact replica of the room he now found himself in. The light coming from the colored glass panels that made up most of the walls shone directly toward the back end and painted the dais in vivid shades of orange. A mosaic, depicting the Endless Desert in vivid resemblance, covered the entire floor.

Silas kept his eyes focused on Nurana’s feet as he moved forward, their steps echoing through the long hall. Statues similar to the ones in Al-Talash stood to either side of the dais, showing various kinds of automata. A heavy-set, balding man stood facing the dais, his voice echoing through the long hall.

“My Empress, I beg you to reconsider. Their attacks become increasingly bold. Who knows what they could do if they obtained access to one of my facilities? We need to move against them, no matter if they use a nicely painted building as a front for their operations.”

“Many of the inhabitants in the Shelter are children, Nur-Lazim. Just because the cult intends to use them as meatshields, doesn’t mean that I will see them killed by my hands. When we move against them, it will not be done by butchering innocents. This matter is settled.”

The silence stretched in the room until the noble bowed. “As you wish, my Empress.” Turning around, Nur-Lazim cast a scathing glance at Silas and his friends and stormed out of the room, two attendants trailing him.

Hushed whispers came from the corners in the back as Nianda led them further into the hall. The floor mosaic depicted a sun whose golden rays spread out across the floor. Nianda stopped as her feet touched the sun’s edge, bowing so low Silas worried she might fall over. Silas hurriedly followed her, feeling Nurana’s urgent eyes on him.

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“Thank you, Nianda. You may leave.”

Silas didn’t need to look up to know the words belonged to the Empress. Her tone alone told him they were spoken by someone who was used to being obeyed.

Rage bubbled up in Silas’ chest, urging him to raise his head and stare up at her in defiance. Clenching his fists, he focused on the sensation of his fingernails digging into his skin. He hated the subservient bowing and scraping when being confronted with royalty, and the Taint coursing through him didn’t make it any easier.

Nianda and the two guards left and the door closed shut behind them. Head still down, Silas’ eyes trailed the engravings in the dais’ steps. It was a round platform, with four steps leading up to the throne. Each was made of smooth marble, shining even brighter with the light coming from the windows. Carved into the back of the steps, two opposing forces faced each other, one resembling an army of the Drakh, the other a smaller force led by a group of ten grotesque humanoids with lizard-like features. One of his father’s many stories featured ten lizard-like humans, but Silas didn’t remember much of it. Each section of the steps portrayed a scene in the battle, with the lizard people becoming less human in each one. Near the end of the fight, the Drakh stood victorious over the group of ten and brandished their spears into the air, the yellow desert sun glinting from their tips.

“I realize the conditions under which you were brought here were unusual, which is why I appreciate you coming immediately,” the Empress continued.

Silas tried not to scoff. Not like they had a choice, kept in the hospital like prisoners and then brought to her palace in a fancy-looking cage.

“Please allow me to relieve you of any worries you might have. If anything, I want to congratulate you for having made it out of the Crimson Dunes. Not many adventurers can boast of such an accomplishment.”

There was a slight pause, and Nurana tentatively began to speak. “We are most honored to receive your praise, Empress, which we surely are undeserving of. We were merely lucky.”

“Nonsense, half-sister. Anyone making it out of there with a shred of sanity remaining is bound to reach greatness. It speaks greatly of your competence as Artists to be so resilient to the Taint’s influence.”

The more the Empress spoke, the uneasier Silas became. Whatever she wanted, she could just order them to do.

“Jaquil also mentioned you found a ruin located somewhere near the Pass.”

“Yes, Empress,” Nurana affirmed. “We stumbled upon it after escaping from a squad of Invokers.”

The Empress leaned forward. “What kind of ruin?” There was a slight tinge of excitement in her tone.

Silas glanced at Nurana, hoping she would tell the truth. If the royal guard was sent looking for Al-Talash in the Crimson Dunes, the Empress had to know of it reappearing.

“We couldn’t believe it at first, but as we looked for a way back to the surface, it became clear to us it was Al-Talash.”

The hall went dead silent. Silas was abruptly aware of every eye in the room turning on them. The nobles stopped their conversations, their stares burning into Silas and his friends as they tried to peer into their bowed faces.

The Empress leaned back into her throne. “Everybody out.”

Hurried shuffles filled the hall as the nobles passed Silas, sending the group measuring glances. Some of them scowled at seeing Nurana’s unusually light skin. For once, Silas was glad he was mostly ignored. He didn’t want to attract more attention than he already had, even though he suspected those crops had already gone bad.

“How did you escape?”

“Silas here,” Nurana motioned at him, making him gulp as the Empress’ gaze settled on him, “shot an arrow at the contraption feeding energy into the city, causing an explosion that caused the roof to cave in.”

“Impressive.”

It took a moment for Silas to register that the compliment had been directed at him. “Thank you, Empress.”

There was a slight pause as the Empress studied him. He could feel her eyes boring through him. “Look at me, boy.”

Silas tried not to let his anger show as he raised his head. The Empress was a domineering woman. Meeting her gaze reminded Silas of the time he’d angered Tom. He didn’t need to fight her to know he wouldn’t stand a chance.

The Empress didn’t wear a crown. Her attire seemed to be made for war instead of the elegant robes the other nobles dressed themselves in. She wore a couple of rings on her fingers, glowing in the vision of his Magesight. She had sharp, angular features and hawk-like eyes that stared down at him.

The most distinctive feature about her, however, was the massive snake that wrapped itself around the throne, resting its horned head on the Empress’ shoulder. The snake's two slits fixated on Silas. Meeting its eyes, the snake’s tongue darted out to taste the air. Cor’s long fingernails scratched the snake under its jaw. Silas could feel Gnarly writhing beneath his cloak, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“So you’re the one who set all this into motion. I guess I should thank you.”

Silas lowered his eyes as he thought about how to respond.

“Yet I also believe your little journey came with a great affliction of the Taint, as it most often does. Just from taking a look at you, I can already see it has permanently nested into your Landscape.”

Silas nodded.

“Normally, there is no treatment for cases such as yourself. While your friends may be fine if they can afford the necessary treatment, you, my boy, will not. And neither will that creature of yours.”

Gnarly tried to soothe Silas as his rage took control of him. Had she only ordered them here to rub salt into their wounds?

“I will find a way.”

Nurana sent him a wide-eyed stare at his response.

“Empress,” he hurriedly added.

“No, you will not.” The Empress’ words rang with finality, threatening to break his resolve. “Once the Taint has formed clusters within the Landscape, removing them becomes nearly impossible. If left untreated, it will continue to fester in your Landscape, growing like a tumor until it has taken complete control of you.”

Silas grasped onto the lifeline like a drowning man swimming in a stormy sea. “Nearly impossible, Empress?”

“There are ways to cure or at least alleviate even such extreme cases, but they require treatment so costly it is unaffordable for but the most wealthy individuals.”

Which Silas, the Empress had to know, was not.

“But fret not. I am not without goodwill. You did a service for me uncovering Al-Talash, which is why I am willing to offer all of you a… trade, of a sort.”

Nurana went stiff, opening her mouth as if to say something.

“You may have seen these wretched lunatics preaching in my streets,” the Empress spat, one hand clutching onto the armrest of her throne. “They belong to a cult calling itself the Ascended who worship the Matriarch. Through vile rituals, some of them transform their bodies to awaken our bloodline in most hideous ways. It is a disgrace of what my people fought for decades to leave behind. I will not,” the Empress’ words resounded through the hall, “see my city terrorized by these fanatics any longer. They will be purged from Nu-Taquim like the plague they are.”

The Empress let her gaze roam over the group, resting on Nurana. “The cult is looking for something, and I need to know what. Once you relay that information to me, join their ranks as my agents and gain access to their Undercity where you’ll meet my informant. She’ll tell you what to do afterwards. Since you are new to my city, it should be relatively easy for you to gain the cult’s trust.”

The Empress paused a bit, letting her words sink in. “I realize this is a lot to ask of you. However, know that you will have the full weight of the Drakhonian Empire protecting you. If there’s anything you need, I will provide it for you.

In return, I vow to provide you with full treatment for each of your afflictions and task my personal healer to concoct a cure for the seemingly irreparable damage to your creature’s Landscape,” she said, gesturing at Gnarly hiding beneath Silas’ cloak.

“Know that normally, individuals as heavily affected by the Taint as yourselves would simply be disposed of because of the threat they pose to my city. Me offering you this trade is a show of goodwill. I would advise you to choose your next words with care."

There it was, a solution to the Taint. If Silas ever wanted to use his Arts again, he would need to cleanse his Landscape of the Taint’s energy. And now, the Empress offered it to him on a silver plate. Nevertheless, Silas wanted nothing more than to decline her offer. He much preferred to take matters into his own hands. The Empress had no reason to ask a group of foreigners to deal with her problems. What did she really want from them?

Whatever it was, Silas would rather not get caught in her schemes. Maybe Tom would have a solution. Yet, by the time they reached him, it may already be too late. Even now, Silas could feel the Taint pulsing, slowly latching itself deeper into his Inner Landscape. They were on borrowed time.

He shot a look at Zaya and Nurana. Their expressions mirrored his own. He frowned as Nurana smiled at him with pity filling her dark eyes.

Nurana bowed before the Empress. “We are honored to serve the Empress in any way possible.”

Cor Nur-Samazzar, the Empress of the Drakhonian empire, smiled down at them. “Good.”