Priscilla and Vorn walked silently through Sunstone Pass, shoulder to shoulder. Tension bristled through the air as they scanned the battle's aftermath, which lined the entire stretch of land: bodies scattered, and blood spread. Their steps hastened forth, and eyes focused on each lifeless face.

Despite it being evident from the armor that adorned their disfigured bodies, the two still needed to be sure that their friends weren't among them.

"Maybe they're still searching through the villages?" Vorn said.

"No, they should've been here by now," Priscilla replied, her eyes still scanning the scene for traces. "Let's go. If we're wrong, we'll move the plan up. We wanted to check out the Sandlands anyway."

With that said, they moved on, heading through Sunstone Pass toward the Sandlands beyond it.

Gradually, the scenery shifted into a starkissed gold that shimmered under the starlight. Sand piled up in uneven mounds that spread as far as the eye could see. It was a beautiful sight vastly different from the vibrancy of the empire's cities.

Their steps were heavy against the soft sand that sank with every stride forward, leaving a temporary impression of the journey.

As the sands piled higher and stones jutted out in twisted shapes, the sound of whirring arrows struck ahead of the two women. It was sudden and swift, Priscilla moved to intercept them, but the arrows curved downward, striking the sand in front of the two women's feet.

"What's the meaning of this?" Vorn questioned with a firm gaze as several dozen bronze-skinned men walked out from behind the stones covering the environment. Their bare chests glistened under the starlit sky, and in their hands, they wielded their curved blades, twirling them threateningly with smirks painted across their faces.

"Imperial women," one of the men spoke as he stepped forward. "Friends of the other group? If you want to see them, come with us."

Vorn instinctively reached for her daggers, and Priscilla raised her hand offensively, but the man reached down into a satchel that sat by his waist and threw out a small ball-shaped object covered in leaves.

It hovered in the air before circling around playfully. It vanished and appeared whirling around the two women before focusing on Priscilla and circling her. Priscilla's brows furrowed, and she raised her hand, causing the object to move toward it and settle in her palm. The leaves unfurled, revealing a small insect-like creature made of sand that sat in Priscilla's palm.

The man nodded, seeing that, and spoke again. "The Holy Matriarch will see you, young witch."

"What's the meaning of this?" Priscilla questioned while eyeing the sand creature. She felt a thread of vitality coursing through it, but it was not a living creature, something more akin to a concept than anything else—a manifestation of power.

"The Holy Matriarch will ease your curiosities. We are but guides to bring you to her. Now, follow us. Do not delay any longer." The man insisted.

"Should we attack, My Lady?" Vorn whispered from beside Priscilla.

"No, let's see what they have for us. It'll be a nuisance to fight off all of them, and it might put Jens and the rest in harm's way." Priscilla replied.

Priscilla walked forward and gazed calmly at the man, "Okay, take us to your matriarch. But our friends better be safe. Or mark my words—this desert will bury you."

"Relax, little witch. Your friends are fine. Come!" The man turned around, and the others from the sand followed.

Priscilla and Vorn followed behind, passing through a winding path of indistinguishable sand. All along the way, rocks spread out, massive and wide, and from behind them, men peeked out, gazing upon Priscilla with caution.

All her life, Priscilla was taught that beyond the sand, the people were barbarians—cruel animals that encroached upon the empire's land like thieves. But now, despite being amid enemy territory, Priscilla did not feel the barbaric cruelty these people were supposedly prone to. Her instincts had been sharp ever since her time in purgatory's embrace, and in this scenario, they were calm like a gentle stream.

After a long time walking, the path ahead converged into one paved of thin slabs that stretched out toward the horizon. Beyond the path, they finally reached a massive wall. Its presence towering over the otherwise barren stretch of desert. The tall bronze-carved gates opened as thick chains clattered from the other side, and as they opened, the blinding starlight spread out over Priscilla and Vorn as a vast kingdom blossomed before their eyes.

They walked the stone-paved path, following behind the warriors. The streets within the Sand Kingdom were filled with people, men, women, and children. Besides them, there were also animals grazing and trotting beside their handlers. Everything gave the city an overwhelming burst of vitality that one would find difficult to see in the Ellis Empire.

Finally, they reached a sprawling palace that shone like a holy temple. Pillars adorned the corners of it, etched with gold emblazoned symbols, and the white marbled craftmanship emphasized the pure luster that the building represented.

The men led Priscilla and Vorn into the palace to a vast lobby towered by a railless balcony overlooking them from the upper floor. From the balcony, footsteps softly echoed downward until a woman's shadow cast onto the walls.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

A graceful figure appeared atop the balcony as a tall bronze-skinned woman emerged at the edge. Her long brunette hair cradled her back with its wavy curls. The white linen gown caressed her figure as the woman stepped off the balcony. Her steps seemingly struck the air, and the sand moved nearly unseen to the eye as it gravitated beneath her feet, acting as a staircase that brought her down to the lobby.

Priscilla's eyes narrowed as she watched that showy display of power and manifestation. It chimed with a familiarity that sent quivers through her heart.

"Greetings, young witch. Welcome to the Kingdom of Parthus," The woman smiled as she settled onto the lobby mere steps away from them.

The warriors bowed to the woman and thudded their chests before leaving the room.

Priscilla paused momentarily before speaking. "Your people brought our friends. Where are they?"

"They're fine. They helped us against the demons from the empire. Why do you think we'd mistreat them?" The woman asked before glancing at Vorn. "Why not have your little friend here go and meet up with them while the two of us talk?"

"That's fine," Priscilla replied. "Check things out, Vorn. If anything happened to them, you know what to do."

"Yes, My Lady." Vorn nodded and walked out toward where the warriors left.

"Now—what did you want to discuss?" Priscilla turned coldly toward the mystical woman—the so-called Holy Matriarch of the sand people.

"My name is Sharazz Illita, Holy Daughter of this generation's Parthian race," The woman half-bowed with one hand held to her gown. "I greet you, daughter of the Mother Witch."

"What?" Priscilla questioned. "What're you saying?"

"Confusion is understandable, little witch. How long has it been since you awakened your heart? A few years, perhaps?" Sharazz said with a warm smile. "The Mother Witch is the essence of all magic in the world. Her warm embrace was taken from her daughters by the Divine Lord Divala. But her spirit still lives on, lingering in all of us."

"I don't understand," Priscilla mumbled in thought. 'Is she talking about Rin? Come to think of it, Rin did call herself something akin to the mother of witches.'

"Even if that is the case, why did you want to see me? And why'd you use my friends to make it happen?"

Sharazz chuckled and gestured toward another room. "Let's get comfortable first, little witch."

Priscilla followed her to a spacious lounge room where they sat atop plush chairs draped in satin.

"I had your people brought for insurance," Sharazz said calmly. "I wasn't sure whether you were truly a witch, and even if you were, I didn't know if you'd be reasonable enough to talk to."

"Our kind is weakened and dying out. The watchful eyes of Divala's dogs persist from generation to generation. Even our own end up traitors in the long game that the demons play."

"The demons..." Priscilla pondered. "The Skriythe, Shademauls, Pelagonites, are you considering all of them as a part of this?"

Sharazz gasped and stood abruptly, "Little witch, how do you know the old world's terms?"

The sand roiled into the lounge room, swirling behind Sharazz's back as a cold expression overtook her smile. "Explain yourself, child. No young witch in this era should know of the demons as anything but demons."

Priscilla paused, unsure whether to explain. But in that moment of silence, Sharazz struck, sending a spear of sand twirling toward her. Priscilla waved her hand, sending a gust of air striking the side of it and lodging it into the side of the chair. "Relax, Sharazz. I'll explain. It isn't what you're thinking of. I'm not one of them."

Sharazz sat down and crossed her legs. "By all means, explain." She said calmly, but her caution swirled in the air and latched onto each grain of sand.

"The Mother Witch—do you know her name?" Priscilla asked.

"We know. She's closely related to our people, so of course we would know."

"Zae-Rin—the Mother Witch, right?" Priscilla said. "I met her—I got my powers from her."

Sharazz jumped up abruptly again. "Preposterous!" She shrieked in disbelief. "The Mother Witch has been gone for nearly a thousand years from the domain of life. You can't have met her!"

"Well, that may be, but I have met her nonetheless." Priscilla shrugged. "I died three years ago. Maybe you heard of it. The deposed daughter of Duke Valentine. The witch he burned. That was me."

"It was then that I awoke in a strange place. Not the afterlife but a prison stuck between life and death. And it was then that I met her. Rin gave me the strength to take my fate into my own hands, showed me the wonders of the world that I was too young and naive to understand, and helped me return to life."

Sharazz slumped down into her chair and sat in quiet shock. After a few minutes of awkwardness, she spoke up. "Is mother doing well?"

"As well as one can be in a place like that," Priscilla said. "But she's made herself home. Not even the darkness and despair of purgatory can keep her down."

"I understand," Sharazz sighed. "So why have you come so far from the empire, little witch? Did Mother send you, or do you have other motives?"

"We had intel that the empire was sending a force to attack you. And we didn't know whether they were human or demons, so we followed along. But besides that, I'm also building up my forces within the empire. Since the sand—the Parthians are enemies to the empire regardless, I figured we could become the best of allies."

"Allies, huh?" Sharazz leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. "Very well, little witch. It's a cute idea, but I'll need time to think about it before signing my people up to die."

"Spend some time with your people and explore the wonders of Parthus. I'll summon you as soon as I come to a decision." Sharazz said before whistling a summons to one of the warriors outside.

"Show the young witch and her people the kingdom. They're our honored guests."

"Understood, Holy Matriarch." The man replied.

"Let's go, Mistress. Your people are in a nearby lounge awaiting your return." The man bowed to Priscilla and gestured for her to follow.

"Okay, take me to them," Priscilla replied. Before leaving, she turned to Sharazz and smiled. "I'll be seeing you again. Think the proposal over well. It can only bring benefits to everyone."

"Yes, I will. You don't need to remind me, little witch." Sharazz smiled playfully and crossed her arms. "If you're too eager, it'll come off as you wanting us a lot more than we need you."

Priscilla merely chuckled and left the room, following the warrior.