Ibilsin lay on his back, the cut on his arm stung from the ointments that soaked the bandage. He had rode as fast as he could to return to Maratek and warn Sayf Abbas, he could remember riding into the tent town, but not much after. Sayf Abbas said that he had fallen off of his horse unconscious, others said that he had jumped off the horse; which ever was the truth he didn’t know what happened after. Ibilsin’s throat was coarse and dry, he could vaguely recall yelling at Sayf Abbas about the Aubuk’s. Though for what reason he didn’t know.

Regardless, the Qafil had begun to pack up, he was told by the healers that he had been asleep for two days. Yet the sandstorm still had not lifted, which to be sure was a good thing, it meant that they wouldn’t be attacked by the Aubuks just yet. The night air blew through the healers tent, its cold air brought with it smalls grains of sand from the sandstorm which struck his bare skin. The light from the torch flickered, casting long shadows across the already dim tent.

Ibilsin sat up pain shooting up his wounded arm as he put weight on it, as he sat he looked around him, the tent was empty save for a chest that had medical ointments and bandages. His belt and weapons sat atop a chair that was in the corner, he could hear the chattering of people outside but he could not discern their words. He swung his feet from the bed, his bare feet touching the cool carpet. Grabbing and putting on his sword belt he turned to the entrance of the tent, as the flaps flew open with an audible whoosh.

A woman dressed in green robes walked in, he skin was as pale, almost as white as the bones of the great dragons of old that dotted the dunes of Diwa. Her hair was a warm brown, and her eyes piercing him with a questioning and dissecting green gaze. She moved toward him, keeping her hands clasped in front of her. Ibilsin put his hand to the hilt of his sword, which made the woman stop in her path and put her hands up, palms facing him.

“I mean you no harm Ibilsin am Putur.” she said.

Ibilsin’s stomach churned, I know that voice this is the phantom from my dream

“Who are you?” Ibilsin interrogated, tightening his grip on the sword.

“My name is Renelle Qouvard, I am a Mancer of the Ashen Cycle. I have traveled many miles to find you.”

“What do you want from me?”

The woman began to move forward again, to which Ibilsin replied by drawing his sword slightly stopping her once again.

“I need you to travel with me, you are of extreme importance.”

Ibilsin narrowed his eyes, trying to dissect the woman before him. She was strange, she looked similar to the phantom from his dream but only slightly. Her hair was curly and fell to her shoulders, a small and button like nose lay atop her heart shaped face, she had thin lips and almond shaped eyes. Her skin was unblemished, and her green eyes struck an unknown feeling into him.

“What do you mean?” Ibilsin continued his questioning.

Renelle looked him and down her eyes inspecting him, lingering on his sword hand as it gripped the hilt of his sword. “You are a Yoldi, Ibilsin am Putur. You are to aid the Xilaskar in his quest to slay a great evil and threat to our world.”

“What is a Yoldi? Who is the Xilaskar?” Ibilsin asked.

“A Yoldi is a companion to the Xilaskar, who is Levan Anzorov, you will meet him shortly.” she answered.

Ibilsin released his sword, though kept his hand hovering around the hilt. A sense of distrust was still lingering about him. While Renelle had been upfront and answered his questions, he still did not know what she was. Ibilsin didn’t know what a Mancer was nor what the Ashen Cycle was. She told him what a Yoldi was but did not explain what a Xilaskar was, she only provided him a name, of a Saproskan no less.

“Would you please follow me, Ibilsin.” Renelle said, her voice was silky and strangely calming.

Ibilsin nodded and followed Renelle. Outside he saw that the Qafil had packed most if not everything away, the only things that stood out were the tents. All of the spites, fires, shelves, tables, and other items had already been placed into chests and onto carts. There were people walking about, moving tools, crates, rugs, and other items onto the backs of camels horses and donkeys.

He continued to follow Renelle, they wove through the cramp street of tents working toward the edge of the Qafil. The wind blew the fabric of the tents around their ties striking out like a cobra. There was a frightened air that surrounded the work that his fellow Qafilites were doing, whether it was due to the Aubuks or the appearance of Renelle he didn’t know, though he guessed it was likely a mixture of the two.

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Renelle walked with haste dodging and weaving her way through the people, yet she also walked with an undisturbed gracefulness almost as if she was dancing through the crowd. Ibilsin tried to keep up with her but found that was difficult, as he kept getting distracted by the people, their hushed words and hasty movements continuously drew his attention away from Renelle. As they moved past a tent he saw Sayf Ibrahim sitting atop his horse, guiding the people through the street. The sight of him forced Ibilsin to instinctively greet the man, as he did he quickly moved his hand to his face, feeling for his mask. It’s still there, good.

Renelle finally stopped in front of a blue colored tent, one that he instantly recognized as Shayik Musafir’s tent. The Mancer held up the flap, letting the warm torch light flood out into the dark desert. He walked inside the tent the carpeted ground was soft beneath his feet, the smells of turmeric and cumin filled his nostrils. Around a small table sat Shayik Musafir, but also Sayf Abbas, his mother and father, another Sayf Almira whom he did not know, and lastly another man around his own age. The sharp features of his face, and the light coloration of his hair and blue eyes told Ibilsin all he needed to know about the man. He was a Saproskan, he was Levan, the Xilaskar.

Renelle came in behind him, placing a hand onto his shoulder gesturing with her other hand for him to join the group. Ibilsin did so, though he was slow to move over. He kept his eyes trained not on the Saproskan, he suspected that Sayf Abbas was watching him keenly, but rather the man dressed in the robes of the Sayf Alrima. Ibilsin had never seen him before, and his wearing of the Sayf Robes gave way to many questions.

Ibilsin sat down beside his mother who was calm, while his father’s face was red, the veins of his neck bulged out from his skin and he took heavy breathes as he looked upon the surrounding people. Renelle took a seat between the unknown Sayf and Levan, placing her hands out in front of her, palms upward.

“As you can see, I have not harmed your son, nor have I brought any weapons with me.” she said.

Sayf Abbas grunted, his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the woman, while Ibilsin’s father shook his head and swore under his breath.

“Explain your purposes again.” Shayik Musafir said, his voice was deep and soothing, something he used to his advantage.

“I fear I’ve no other way to explain my purpose, Shayik.” Renelle said, “I am but a simple Mancer of the Ashen Cycle. My journey has brought me here in pursuit of the Yoldi, of which Ibilsin is one of.”

“You bring a Sayf Alrima with you.” Abbas said, “Sayf who are you?”

The Sayf lowered his head, and gave the Sayf salute, “My name is Hyrum and I was of Jebel Beru, Sayf Abbas.”

“But no longer.” Abbas said

“But no longer.” Hyrum repeated.

Renelle interrupted, “We are not here for you to discuss the comings and goings of Hyrum. We are here to discuss Ibilsin’s future.”

“And what is my future?” Ibilsin asked.

“You will leave Maratek. You will leave the Qafil, you will change. You will not be recognized as a Bidualsham, you will be reborn a new soul in the world you find.” his mother answered.

Ibilsin turned in shock, she turned to him her face carried no distinct expression. Though she seemed tired, her eyes were heavy and bloodshot when she blinked she did so slowly.

“Seems your mother understands what I mean.” Renelle said.

Ibilsin frowned, the woman was very arrogant, or perhaps to sure of her own plans. And all of her words were either contorted into riddles or were laced with venom.

“Why do you believe we would relinquish one of our Sayf Almira in a desperate time because you say so?” Musafir asked.

“Because his future is of far more importance than to be a Sayf Almira in the desert being chased by Aubuks.” she replied.

“These are strong words from a woman.” Sayf Abbas said.

Hyrum responded, “Sayf Shayik, Renelle means no disrespect to our people or our way of life. What she is trying to say is that Sayf Ibilsin’s purpose as a Yoldi outweighs his purpose as a Sayf Almira. And we are the ones who will allow him to unlock his true potential and reach the height he is destined to.”

Ibilsin looked at Hyrum with narrowed eyes, when he spoke he seemed as if he knew exactly what to say and how to say it. Perhaps he was truly a Sayf Almira in his past, though that still did not excuse him for continuing to portray something that he is not.

“Why would I allow you to take my son away!” his father yelled, pointing a finger toward Renelle.

“Your son will end up where he must in time, regardless of if it is now or later.” Renelle said.

Ibilsin brought his eyes to the Saproskan. Levan looked tired, his eyes were heavy and red, his face was dirty and bloodied. He had not said a single word and his sight was fixed to the ground in front of him. This is the Xilaskar? He doesn’t even seem to know where he is. I hope whatever it is he is supposed to do, he can do it. Perhaps he was being to harsh on the man, he didn’t look as if he was much older than himself, maybe half a year or a year.

He had blocked out whatever it was that was being said by Renelle, Sayf Abbas, and Shayik Musafir. Whatever they had to say it had little to do with him. Ibilsin had already made up his mind, he was not going. He didn’t know anything about these people, nor did he know what they had in store for him. What he did know was that the Qafil will need him in the coming days. Renelle did not understand how important he was, perhaps Hyrum did but he didn’t seem to care one way or another. Regardless, Ibilsin wasn’t leaving, especially not with the Aubuks right on them, and likely preparing to march. So he was staying, that was that.