"Well, Nile," Ozahr addressed him mockingly, "you're in luck, because I have some free time today on my very busy schedule. Allow me to regale you with the tale of Redmondel."

Ozahr recalled the events that happened after he left Cadmia. Nile has a sneak peek into the more mundane moments already, so Ozahr had the pleasure of seeing his live reaction to the climax of his story. That is, if he had one.

Nile sat so perfectly still that Ozahr thought he fell asleep with his eyes open.

"Are you even listening to me?" He asked. "I fought a dragon. I don't know if you're aware, but those are not supposed to exist anymore."

“I'm well aware,” Nile replied. "I'm simply taking your words with a grain of sand.”

Sand? I thought it was salt. "See? I didn't expect you to believe me anyway."

"And how does this dragon tie in with the desert?"

"Hah!" Ozahr laughed. "If you didn't believe the dragon part, wait until you hear this. I made a deal with Redmondel to bring her the phoenix. Or at least proof that it exists. The details are a little hazy, I made the deal on the verge of being scorched alive—wasn't thinking clearly."

While Ozahr was busy making excuses for himself, he missed Nile's first reaction to the story, however slight. His shoulders tensed up, evident by the fabric gathering under his arms. His face hasn't changed, but his words were even less friendlier than before.

"Unfortunately," said Nile, "I cannot let you out based on that story alone."

"Huh?!" Ozahr grabbed the bars, banging his shackles against them. "Didn't you hear me? I'm gonna be dead in 30 days if I don't find this… this phoenix proof!"

"Your short foresight is none of my fault. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to," Nile said as he gracefully stood up with a bit of wind magic to lift him up to his feet.

"Wha—business?" Ozahr stuck his face through the bars as Nile walked away. "What do you mean business? You said this was a barren wasteland! Hey! I did not excuse you!" He shouted after him. "Come back here!"

Nile disappeared into the dark corridor leading out of the small room they were in. Ozahr heard him say something on his way out, possibly to a guard stationed out of his sight, but he couldn't quite make out the words.

There wasn't much in his cell. Only a bed roll and a grate carved into the stone where a small canal of water ran underneath. He didn't want to imagine what it was for. There was no telling if it was night or day, but the fatigue hit Ozahr's body as if he hadn't slept for days. His eyelids were growing heavy, ready to give up on their endeavor of finding a way out.

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I'll close my eyes for just a few moments. Ozahr dragged his heavy shackles over to the bed roll. It was thicker than he expected, but not nearly thick enough to his liking. Lots of things here were not to his liking. Nile in particular.

It didn't take long for Ozahr to fall asleep and wake up within a dream again.

He was putting his hand out towards Redmondel, inviting her to walk down the ballroom with him. The gesture felt well rehearsed, but there was uneasy tension in Ozahr's legs. He had to think about every step carefully, like his body forgot how to walk.

The next thing he knew, Ozahr collapsed on the floor, looking up at the gigantic maw of a dragon glowing with embers. The small gasp of air he made with fear for his life sent him back to the ballroom scene where he was sitting by Redmondel again. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

"Flawless performance," said Redmondel, but something was different about her voice.

Ozahr looked to his side. Her bright red dress had turned white in his dream. "Didn't you have a different dress on?" He asked warily.

Redmondel raised her arm and Ozahr quickly clutched her wrist with both his hands. A long, sharp pin was held against his chest, and his eyes were met by a green gaze.

"I know it's you, Nile!"

The hand holding the pin relaxed until it dropped to the floor. "Just because you know something, doesn't mean you can do anything about it."

The wrist Ozahr was holding suddenly turned into the pin that dropped to the floor earlier. Redmondel disappeared, and so did Nile.

"Oh the things I'm going to do to you when I'm out of this cell," Ozahr cursed under his breath. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" He slapped his cheeks, pinched his arm, anything he could think of to try and wake himself up. He even considered stabbing himself with the pin, but Ozahr wasn't that desperate. At least not yet.

He left the ballroom and looked around Redmondel's castle for that devil Nile. Every door Ozahr opened seemed to lead to the same room. He figured it was a similar situation to Erith—he didn't know the castle well enough to remember every room.

Eventually, Ozahr came across the doors that led to the bedroom he stayed in that night. Now I've got you!

When he swung the door open with full confidence and took one step in, glass crunched beneath his foot.

"Huh?" Ozahr looked down and carefully lifted his leg. There was glass all over the floor. This wasn't the room Redmondel showed him at all—this was his room back in Cadmia. But even the pillows from his bed scattered across the floor, mixing in with the broken glass.

Ozahr was reluctant to stop inside for more reasons than the glass alone. His heart rate picked up and it was getting difficult to breathe with every beat. Ozahr didn't know what day his mind was recalling. He wasn't sure it was a real day at all. But something about this memory fragment filled Ozahr with dread.

He slammed the door shut. No more games. No more memory sequences. He'll sit on the floor until Nile decides it's boring to watch nothing and allow him to wake up again.

Ozahr sat and waited. The hallway shifted to the one in Cadmia's castle, with its ugly purple tapestry. It was dark that day, whichever day he was remembering.

Ozahr hugged his knees and hid his face between his legs. If he stopped looking, things would stop changing.

But they didn't.

He started hearing footsteps. Coming and going. A pair of them walked towards Ozahr, getting closer and closer by the second.

"Stop," Ozahr whispered into his knees with a shaky voice. "Don't come near me."

A hand rested on Ozahr's arm, startling him awake, back into his dark cell.

The hand was Nile's. Ozahr was still catching his breath when he saw him retract it from the bars. There was a faint trail of smoke in the air with a mysterious scent.

"I like to call those pressure points," Nile quietly explained, sitting cross legged again across from Ozahr. "Sometimes it's faster to find stray bad memories than to look for the exact memories I need. Relying on your word is a gamble, but unpleasant feelings make for a fine memory imprint.”

Ozahr could only give him a scornful look as he was steadying his breath. "You know what else is an unpleasant feeling? Eating magic with your face," Ozahr’s threat wasn't even veiled when little bursts of blue flames escaped his hands.

"I'm not trying to torture you," said Nile, though his tone wasn’t very convincing. "I'm just being cautious."

"Of what?" Ozahr cried out in frustration. He was tired, he was uncomfortable, and he just wanted to go home to his pile of pillows at this point.

Nile sighed. Before he could explain himself, a garbled noise came from the corridor once again. It almost sounded like someone was calling Nile, but they were either speaking a different language, or had a serious speech impediment. Nile left at once, leaving Ozahr plenty of time to seethe on his own.

Good, Ozahr thought. He could use some peace and quiet right now. There was still a bit of smoke in the air that he traced to burning incense where Nile was sitting. Ozahr took a deep breath, gathering some magical energy into him. With a bit of concentration, he blew on the incense stick and lit it up with his blue flame. He watched it eat away at the stick until there was nothing left.

Ozahr laid back on the bed roll, vowing not to fall asleep again.