Ral had every intention of confronting Kentor but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. All the things those two talked about made it feel like some sort of strange dream. Bringers? Final Solution? Not to mention the way Kentor seemed like a whole different person. What would happen if he said something about it?

Kentor obviously didn’t bring it up, but Ral watched him.

“The damn sand is already at a steep discount, no I will not give you more,” Kentor said, sweat breaking out on his temples. “You’re killing me here!”

“Nobody else has a discount like this,” the blacksmith they were bargaining with said suspiciously. “What’s wrong with that sand?”

“Nothing. You can inspect it. You can ask other people to inspect it. I can give you a sample. I simply need to sell my stock, why is that so hard to understand?” The merchant had his usual jovial demeanor but Ral thought that the smile on his face looked more strained than usual and his face more damp with sweat.

Over the past few days Kentor had gone around time trying to sell his stock. His explanation to Ral was that the lack of horses would greatly hinder their ability to travel, and so they had to sell all the items that would be difficult to haul between the two of them. It would decrease profit margins but at least they still made a profit. But Ral also knew that Kentor was also selling their lighter merchandise like the delicate jewelry and precious metal trinkets they could easily sell for three times the price at the Heart. Secretly, the merchant was trying to sell all their stock of everything - while Kentor made an effort to hide it at first it seemed a growing desperation had gripped him and simply ignored Ral’s questions about it.

“Time is money, sir,” Kentor would say dismissively. “The opportunity came up and so I sold it. We’ll make a profit, don’t you worry.”

Ral decided not to question it and continued to watch. He had been called a moron before. Back when they were children, Aris had always quickly picked up reading, writing, languages and runeology. While he was still ‘little prince’, nobody dared to call him stupid to his face but he understood that they all treated him as the slow sibling. The one who cried over everything. The brother who only knew how to climb trees.

The Somas were much less secretive with questioning his intelligence. Mikol always spared translating the insults but he grew to learn them over time. At the very least with the Somas he learned how to use it: if someone thought you were an idiot, they usually underestimated you. And there wasn’t a better tool in the world than being underestimated.

“Fine, I’ll take the sand,” the blacksmith finally said. “But if there’s anything wrong with it, I'll burn your reputation to the ground.”

“It’s sand,” Kentor said, the usual pleasant tone in his voice growing flat. “What in Part’s name can I do?”

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The side of Kentor’s mouth twisted slightly as if grimacing after saying the wrong thing, but his expression quickly returned to normal. Ral wondered if it was a trick of light. He didn’t comment and simply helped move the sand from their warehouse to the client’s. When he finished, Kentor was already moving on to the next potential client to try to sell a modest stock of decorative vases.

It was obvious that Kentor was trying to sell his inventory so he could leave. All this happened after hearing about horse blood; furthermore, the fact that Pautal, the mysterious horse ‘caretaker’ outside of Alkkes came to such a bloody end in his own home… Something was happening soon.

While Ral lifted merchandise in and out of storage rooms, he secretly limbered up, stretching his body while it had gone quite dormant in the short time of working with Kentor. From what Ral could discern, whatever Kentor and his mysterious friend was planning had to do with him. While setting down a heavy bag of sand, in the privacy of the storeroom he carefully stretched out his previously injured shoulder that sometimes stiffened with misuse.

What would horse blood be used for? Ral cursed under his breath while returning to the push-cart for another bag of sand. He never was interested in runes or enchanting circles but he did know blood enchantment was largely frowned on. Blood was a powerful medium to draw runes in and could quickly become unstable. But why exactly are they going to use horse blood? He put another bag carefully down, sweat trickling down his spine in the usual Alkkes heat. It no longer bothered him as he was used to the sun beating down on him in the desert. He feigned scratching his back while stretching his shoulder more.

How did any of them know he was the Solaris? Were they Kuvanian? That was the only people Ral could think of that would care that he was the heir of Caelis. What in the sun's name did they want from him? Did it have anything to do with that Trial that felt like a lifetime ago? That was yet another thing that felt like a strange dream. Did a Part really reveal themselves to him and teach him how to close a Gate?

He liked it better when the only thing he had to concern himself with was finding a horse. He was unsuccessful at that too, but at the very least he enjoyed himself. He heavily set down another bag of sand, granules of it sprinkling on the ground with the movement. When was the last time he did something and enjoyed it?

The first thought was training with Mikol. Running laps around the Somas camp, even under the merciless sun, had a certain amount of fun to it. Talking to someone who cared about you under the stars. Almost angrily, Ral hauled another bag of sand off the cart and into the storeroom. The memories made his chest burn. He had spent his time in Alkkes trying to readjust to living among Gaians which left him no time to dwell on memories. But now the taste of betrayal returned and along that came the memories with Mikol.

He should just leave - escape the memories of the desert, of the Somas, of Alkkes and Kentor. Perhaps he could find Rask and travel with him once more.His movements stalled as a heavy, sickening feeling descended on his heart. It was like a thick blanket over him almost like the emotion didn’t belong to him.

No, it didn’t belong to him. In a shock, Ral recognized it. A foreign despair like a feeling washing over his solute. He felt it back in the Somas camp while he and Mikol tried to coax a Wisdom from a rock.

A Gate has opened and he suddenly knew what the horse blood was for.