It was a long and restless night. Jasper's mind would not quit racing as he ran through the contents of the diary, and the many questions it had raised, over and over again. Before he knew it, the first rays of dawn were peeking through his windows. With a grown, he pulled a pillow over his head, banishing the light into darkness as he desperately sought even a few minutes of sleep’s sweet nectar.

But it was not to be. A confident knock thudded against his bedroom door. He squirmed deeper into his covers, ignoring it. Whoever was at the door knocked again and then, after he continued to ignore them, the sound of the door swinging open echoed through the room as someone let themselves in. Their steady stride beat against the parqueted wooden floor and reluctantly, Jasper was forced to pull his head out from under the pillow and meet his intrusive guest. It was Annatta. She was clad in a leather jerkin, thoroughly armored by the bright blue scales used by the royal House, and two silver daggers, long enough to be bordering on short-sword status, swayed at her hips.

“My lord, it is time to get up.”

He didn’t even bother to try to hide his scowl. “I didn't sleep at all last night; leave me alone,” he grouched, turning away.

But the Djinn was undeterred. A little smirk flitted across her lips, as she shrugged. “Oh well, it's still time to get up. Lord S̆arrābī has a task for you.”

Damn it. Flipping over, he turned to face her, rubbing the bleariness out of his eyes as best as he could. “Fine, what does he want? Let me guess, more etiquette training.”

“Actually, I think you’ll be rather pleased by this particular task.”

He perked up a bit, looking at her expectantly. “So what is it?” Jasper persisted.

The Djinn just shook her head, giving him another little smirk. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out.”

Within the hour, they were on the road. This time, rather than slipping out the secluded side entrance of the palace complex, they waited for the monumental gates to open, riding out into the pavilion with the copper fountain to the clatter of hooves. As there were just the three of them, Jasper felt a bit self-conscious using the big gate, and that was only exacerbated when the crowd gathered around the strange blue waters turned as one to watch them leave, bowing respectfully as they passed.

While the inhabitants of the city endeavored to give them room to pass, the city streets were crowded by the thronging masses, and their progress was quite slow until they crossed the great twin bridges that led out of the city. Free at last of the city’s restraints, they set off at a gallop into the countryside, where Jasper resumed his interrogation of Annatta.

“So are you ever going to tell me what we’re doing?”

Annatta glanced over with an amused look but, perhaps seeing his genuine irritation, relented. “S̆arrābī was rather surprised to realize you were still short of your first evolution. He decided to fix that.”

A little thrill of excitement ran down his spine. “Oh? So we are going to fight something?” He frowned as another realization hit him. “Wait - he can see my level? Can he see my classes? My stats?”

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously not, or he would have realized that, wouldn't he?"

He frowned at her insulting tone, but didn't reply as she continued. "But nothing is hidden from the king's sight. Anyways, a village a few hours outside the capital has been having a problem with some sort of beast preying on their cattle. Their complaints have been getting more and more frequent, so S̆arrābī thought it was a good opportunity for you to build a little goodwill while also picking up the last few levels you needed. Now, wasn’t I right? Tell me you aren’t the least bit happy about this assignment.”

“Alright, alright. Maybe this time - for the very first time ever -” he shot an only half-serious glare at her, “you were right. Any idea what we’ll be fighting?”

She shrugged. “There’s lots of creatures that are happy to help themselves to a meal that can’t really fight back, but whatever this is, the villagers' tsussîm riders haven’t actually seen it.”

“So, it’s invisible?” He ventured.

The Djinn scoffed. “It’s unlikely. Probably just attacks at night. The tsussîm don’t like the dark, so the herders are a lot more limited once the sun sets.”

“They’re afraid of the dark?”

Annatta rolled her eyes. “Educating you is a never-ending task, isn’t it? How Lord S̆arrābī ever thinks you could deceive anyone at court is beyond me.”

“Just answer the question,” he snapped, feeling his irritation with her grow.

She huffed, but complied. “The tsussîm can only fly during the day, and while they can also be ridden like a normal horse, their night vision is quite poor. Most herders prefer not to risk their tsussîm’s health by riding them in the dark,” she explained. “It’s a difficult situation for the villagers. Their flocks are being attacked at night, but if they try to pursue them, they’re risking their far more valuable mounts. That’s why they need someone like us to deal with it.”

As the hours slipped away, the paved road sunk into the dusty plains that stretched from Lake Yarhab to the southern borders of the province. The largely flat terrain was perfect for their mounts, but Jasper found the actual ride far less pleasant. The plains themselves were dominated by grasses that reached nearly as high as his head, but wherever the grass didn't reach - such as the road - was covered in thick layers of loose dirt and dust. Great clouds of the stuff billowed around them as they galloped down the path, infiltrating the very air they were breathing, and Jasper, very suddenly, gained an intense appreciation for just how nice it must be to have a flying mount. Fortunately, Annatta had bandanas for them, and the brightly colored kerchiefs cut the worst of the dust down to a manageable level, but it did little to protect their eyes from the irritating particles.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The sun was already past its peak when the stubby homes of the village loomed above the horizon. Perched on the banks of a lazy river, the dusty plains were broken up by large green fields. Hundreds of shallow canals ferried water from the river to the fields whose lush greenery and open fields seemed like a welcoming oasis. But their objective did lie not in the town itself, but in the pastures on the far side of the river.

Annatta led them around the outside of the village to the shores of the river. There, after a bit of searching, she found the ford she was looking for. Though the waters reached nearly to the horses’ chests at their highest, their mounts plowed through the sluggish river without issue, and there, on the other side, their welcoming committee waited.

A handful of rather dusty Djinn bowed their heads as the three approached, barely discernible from humans aside from a pair of stubby horns sprouting awkwardly through two holes in the leader’s hat. But it was the Tsussîm standing beside them that attracted Jasper’s attention.

He had seen them from afar, flying low over the fields as they rounded up the cattle, but he had yet to see one up close and they weren’t quite what he expected.

The Tsussîm had rich, glossy black coats, a long mane tumbling down their necks just like a horse, and two large, feathery wings sprouting from their backs, the feathers ranging in color from charcoal grey to a white as pure as the mountain snow. But they weren’t, as he had thought from afar, just horses with wings. The differences were subtle but noticeable. Their skulls were not quite as long as horses, their jaws were a bit too wide, and their feet did not end in hooves but in paws, albeit with no sign of the sharp, vicious claws of felines.

But he had no time to examine them further as the head “cowboy” stepped forward. “Are you the folks the palace sent to help us?” A slight quaver in his voice testified to his sudden spike of nervousness, as he attempted to glance surreptitiously at Jasper’s wine-colored skin. “I wasn’t expecting them to send someone of your stature.” He continued, uncertainly.

Jasper opened his mouth to speak, but Annatta beat him to the punch. “Lord Yas̆peh is here on behalf of the animmû and decided to handle your case personally.” She ignored the questioning look Jasper shot her, but her words seemed to reassure the villager, who glanced up at Jasper with a respect now mixed with confidence rather than fear. “Thank you, my lord. The animmû are always welcome at our hearths.” Sweeping his hat back onto his head, he turned back to his mount, waving for them to follow. “Let me show you where the attacks have been taking place.

An hour later, Jasper was hunched over a series of odd tracks sunk deep into the soft mud beside the river. The villagers had finally disappeared back into the fields, unable to stay away for long from watching their herds. “I work with the animmû? What the hell does that even mean?”

Annatta was unruffled as she crouched beside him, running her fingers across the tracks with a baffled expression.

“It was Lord S̆arrābī’s idea; complain to him, not me.”

He squelched the rising tide of annoyance that surged him at her continual snippy remarks. “Fine,” he snapped, “but what does it mean?”

With a sigh, the Djinn tore herself away from the tracks. “Nothing bad. The animmû is a group of nobles in the south that are dedicated to helping the poor. They perform many of the same duties adventurers would, like killing dangerous creatures, but they don't charge any money for it. S̆arrābī thought it would be good for you to be associated with them. You know, get people to like you, that sort of thing. Although frankly,” she muttered beneath her breath, “that seems like a lost cause.”

Jasper scowled. “What the hell is your problem with me? Surely you can’t still be blaming me because your leader went mad and killed your group.”

Annatta froze, her fingers clamping into fists so tight that her reddish skin almost looked white, and for a second he wondered if he had pushed her too far. Then she exhaled, her hands slowly unclutching as she spoke, her words slow and careful. “Of course not, my lord. You had no idea that we were following you, that your reckless deeds were putting anyone else in danger than yourselves, so how could you be to blame. It's not your fault that my friends' bodies are rotting in the depths of the earth, unburied and unhonored, perhaps doomed to turn into accursed qebrū.” She paused, clearly struggling to speak, and then apparently decided against it. Instead, she pointed at the tracks left behind in the muddy banks of the river, not giving him any time to respond to her words. “Tell me, what do you see in these tracks?”

After an awkward pause, Jasper turned his attention back to the mud. The tracks weren’t at all what he’d expected. Not paws, not even hooves, the tracks had three long fingers in the front, with a fourth pointing to the back. Deep gouges in the mud suggested some sort of claw. Or talon, he realized. “Is this a bird?” He glanced up and down the river bank, seeing that it was covered in the tracks. "And a lot of them."

Annatta nodded. “That is my guess, too. I’ve never actually encountered one of those creatures, so I’m not certain, but I suspect that these are the tracks of a dorēsah.”

The name meant nothing to Jasper. “What’s that?”

She rolled her eyes, but responded without snark this time. “A fairly dangerous bird that hunts in packs. They have vicious teeth and talons, but their most dangerous feature is their ability to use a sonic attack. I've never even seen one myself, but when I was younger, I had a mentor who told me about hunting one of their flocks. He was a warrior past his 200th level, but he said that when the combined blast of their screams hit him, he wasn’t even able to pick himself up off the ground.”

“He was over 200?” Jasper asked, feeling the alarm bells go off. “Can we even take them?”

“Probably?” Annatta shrugged. “My mentor was an excellent swordmaster, but he had no magic. Even a beginner mage will be better equipped to fight these beasts than a skilled warrior, if that warrior is unable to make his hits connect with a swarm of birds flying overhead. We should be fine as long as we’re careful. The real problem is tracking them down. Dorēsah like to roost in caves during the day, and only come out at night to hunt if they’re hungry. We’ll just have to hope that some of them haven’t eaten recently.”

Standing up, she wiped the mud off her hands. “Unfortunately, we won’t be able to follow these tracks back to wherever they came from, so I guess we need to go talk to the villagers again. They ought to know if there are any caves in the area.”