The cool night air seeped away as the twilight sky gave way to the approaching warmth of dawn. Perched on a roof, Rickard watched the horizon as the sun broke over the dunes.
He contemplated Balzarsa's desert landscape, recalling the history books he had read about this land.
Once, the dunes were green and fertile hills, ruled by a kingdom called Balasa.
They built great wells that tapped into the land's mana. Enabling them to create magical marvels, be it weapons, armour or wonderous machines.
Their access to vast amounts of mana also caused many gifted mages to be born. The kingdom's understanding of magic and their education of potential mages, no realm could compare, until the war with the Eastern Tri Caliphate of Sahareli.
On the eastern continent called Sahareli, was where the eruption of mana first flowed in the explosive event called the Mana Storm. Mana poured across the continent and spread around the world, causing a rare few to be born with the talent to harness it.
Sahareli were the first to understand and control these new powers, while the rest of the world feared and persecuted anyone with the talent. They founded colleges to study magic, creating spells and rituals, delving even deeper into its mysteries.
But divisions over the ethical use of their powers polarised the Sahareli mages.
Experiments on slaves and prisoners, the creation of monsters, necromancy, forcefully harvesting the mana from the lands, causing desertification, and the abolition of the Celvaric faith in favour of Divanic, pushed the concerned mages to act.
The moralist group of mages and Celvaric priests fled westward across the seas and founded Balasa. Over the centuries, they built a powerful realm of their own and set out to teach others their arcane knowledge.
The Sahareli's were furious that their arcane secrets had been given away, losing their advantage over other realms. Over the centuries, the two realms skirmished, using their magic and technology, but eventually the Sahareli had the upper hand.
The invading Sahareli, led by three powerful saltan sorcerers, unleashed their devastating wizardry on Balasa, stripping the land of its mana and leaving it barren, causing a famine. Necromancy turned Balasa's dead against them and unleashed their monstrous creations to assail them.
Balasa had built powerful defences and well-equipped troops, but could not stop the sultan's unrestrained use of magic that obliterated them.
The Sahareli sultans spared no one; Once the defenders were slain, they ordered the kingdom razed to the ground, along with its inhabitants. The bones of that civilisation still exist, dotted around Balzarsa's desert. But the Sahareli Sultans were not satiated. Confident in their mastery of magic, the sultans looked to other realms. Conquering most of the realms and destroying those who did not submit.
But they overreached as they attempted to conquer three realms at the same time, Xindil, Nisakahon and Naht-Seko. It was at Naht Seko by the combined armies of Taurosi and Salixia that the sultans were killed and brought an end to the Sahareli Tri Calphate.
After a few centuries, the mana returned to Balasa, but never regained what it once was, nor did the land become fertile again.
All of Balasa's arcane knowledge was lost, and nothing but the gold dunes that towered over the horizon remained.
Rickard hoped the group's excursion to the tomb would yield fresh leads, a rediscovery of that knowledge, but the rooks' immolation of the tomb site may have dashed his hopes.
However, the artefact they recovered was older than the tomb, older than Balasa. Rickard wondered how it came to be there.
Was it put there by the vampire to lure victims? Or were they the guards of that artefact?
A question he would have to ask the client, or rather, his handler.
Below him, he saw the people of Balzarsa leaving their homes early; mostly, they were burly dock workers heading for the eastern port, hauling goods from the eastern lands of Sahareli.
Women heading to wash houses with their linen or heading to market square with their children tagging along beside them. The children ran about carefree to the displeasure of their mother, who swore at them to stay close.
He slipped away from the group early to scout ahead, making sure no one was lying in wait. From the rooftops to the alleys, there was no sign of an ambush. Maybe the bodies he'd left behind had scared them off? He wasn't convinced. Only when they were far from Balzarsa would he believe they were safe. Still, the questions of who sent them and why continued to gnaw at him.
Looking towards the city centre, he could see the blue dome of the rebuilt Balzarsa Celvaric temple, which was a fair distance away. His contact was there, along with Makkito. He thought of going to wish her farewell before departing Balzarsa.
Rickard was also a bit curious about her travelling companions, the two Nisaka warriors. He would like to gauge their measure. No, mostly he wanted to make sure they could be trusted with her. Although the story of their journey together was encouraging, he had to make sure.
Satisfied that there was no immediate danger, Rickard began to make his way down.
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"Hmm, interesting design," Rook remarked, eyeing the seraphim statues adorning the market square fountain.
Mampai and Ordin busied themselves filling water skins and stowing them in their packs. While there were other sources outside Balzarsa, the fountain's mana-infused water was guaranteed safe to drink.
Annabella perched on the fountain's rim beside Ordin, trailing her fingers through the cool water.
"I'd prefer it were wine," Ordin said.
"The wine would kill you in the desert heat, silly." She tapped a finger against his snout. "No booze until we reach somewhere more temperate."
"Hah, fine, my little sand dancer." Ordin cupped her chin and kissed her, earning a soft coo.
Swinging his pack over his shoulder, Ordin strolled toward the travel cart. As he passed Rook, he gave him a sharp nudge in the back, sending Rook's flask tumbling to the ground. It clanked and bounced to a stop near Annabella's feet. Rook shot Ordin a venomous glare. "What the fuck?" he snapped, scrambling to grab the flask and inspect it for damage.
"No booze, Cat!" Ordin retorted.
"I-It's not!" Rook protested, running his fingers over the ornate silver craftsmanship of the flask.
"Rook? Is there booze in your magic flask?" Annabella asked softly. "No… well, I don't th—"
"Please empty it, my friend. Even if its magic chills the contents, it won't quench your thirst. Trust me."
Rook sighed, unscrewing the top before slowly pouring the contents into the glowing water. The bright red wine swirled, diluted, and vanished.
"That was the best wine from the merchant city," he murmured, picturing it as gold coins melting away into nothing.
Annabella gave him a playful pat on the bum. "Good kitty, we'll have a drink once we reach the next civilized town, alright?"
"Yeah," he replied, filling his flask with water.
"Oh, be a dear and carry my pack to the cart?" Annabella gestured with her slender, vulpine foot. Rook's gaze traced the curve of her toned, shapely leg before he quickly snapped out of it and grabbed the pack. "Oh, of course!"
As he turned to leave, he asked, "You're not planning to walk the whole way barefoot, are you?"
"Hah, of course not, I'll be riding in the cart," she said with a smile. "Don't worry, Rook, I'm no stranger to travelling far from home. That's how I met Ordin."
"Oh really? When I first met you, you were half-frozen, shivering by a campfire," Ordin replied, gesturing for Rook to head to the cart. "You were dressed all wrong for the northern cold. Fancy silk robe over thin, revealing clothes, without a scrap of fur to keep the chill away. If I hadn't carried you to safety, you might not have made it."
"And if I recall, you sold my lovely silk robe?" she sighed.
"I only had enough coins for a single room for myself, and I had to buy you warmer clothes."
"Those smelly furs you got reeked like a sweaty boar!"
"Haha, but they kept you warm until I got you back to Balzarsa, no?"
A clatter of supplies tumbled from the cart as Rook frantically gathered them up again.
"Hálfviti! What the hell are you doing, cat?" Ordin barked, storming after him with sharp words.
"Ordin! Don't hurt him, it was just an accident," she called, unsure if he even heard.
"Mi betta go an mek sure Ordin nuh hurt im," Mampai said.
"Thanks, friend," Annabella replied with a nod.
She watched as Mampai strode over and intercepted Ordin mid-swing before he could punch Rook. For her size, she was surprisingly quick. Annabella admired the Jall'narian's strength and athletic grace, having seen her leap and dodge with ease before.
Still, she couldn't help but wonder how Mampai moved so fast with such a huge rack. Was it magic? Magic containers! HAHA! Only the Divas knew, she thought, watching the argument unfold.
"Yu nak 'im outta? Yuh a guh bi picking eh up yuhself! Mi nah guh bi helping yu eff yu duh."
"What? Speak common, damn it!"
"She said, 'You knock me out, you pick it up yourself,'" Rook said.
"Fine! Then pick this shit up, cat!" Ordin muttered before walking away, still cursing under his breath. Rook quietly gathered the supplies while Mampai looked on.
Annabella watched Ordin kick a pebble, grumbling in his Nordic tongue. He had a bad temper, but never with her. He was always sweet and loving.
Ever since Rook joined the group, though, Ordin's temper seemed to flare more often, especially toward him. Maybe it was a cat and dog kind of thing. Or maybe she'd comforted Rook too much. Jealousy?
Rook wasn't even half the man Ordin was, so why would he be jealous?
Rook can be a bit cowardly and isn't much of a fighter unless he's hiding behind a shield, but he surprises her with his reliability and never runs from combat despite his fears. Still, he has a habit of doing odd, impulsive things that get him into trouble more than once.
Sneaking around like a thief, eavesdropping, and even peeking at her and Mampai while we were bathing. He sure looked shocked when I yanked him into the water with a magic hand!
Mampai, on the other hand, didn't seem to care and was more puzzled about why he was skulking instead of just joining us in the pool. I guess in her homeland, Jall'naria, they don't have perverts. Maybe they have no shame? Or killed all the perverts!
Annabella noticed where Ordin had stopped—it was the exact spot where the bodies had been left the night before. Now, not a trace remained. The blood had been cleaned from the stone cobbled floor, leaving her to wonder if the night watch had found and removed them, or if body snatchers had whisked them away to shady clients. She thought of the people who had gone missing overnight, leading the Celvaric Temple to pressure the city guards into doubling their patrols and enforcing a curfew, one she had broken just last night. A chill ran through her as she realised she could have been one of the victims. Was that why she'd been targeted? They wanted her alive; they couldn't possibly have planned to cut her up while she was still breathing—
"Annabella, are you okay? You look stressed." Ordin held her hand. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, it's nothing." She gave a small giggle, stroking his hand. "Just thinking too much over nothing." She realised she hadn't told them what had happened here last night. Rickard hadn't told them either. Or had he?
"All prepared?" Rickard asked, glancing over both of them. He seemed to appear out of nowhere, making Ordin jump.
"Icemare's tits! I wish you wouldn't do that."
"Yuh fi open yuh ears, Norse hound," said Mampai as she gathered in with Rook.
"Mi hear seh him a come from yards away."
"Oh, you're here," said Rook. "We're all set to leave Balsarza once we get Annabella's things."
"Good. Escort Annabella to the college and help her."
"And what about you?" asked Ordin.
"I need to visit the temple and contact our client about the job." Rickard held up the amulet.
"Also, if Makkito is still there, I'd like to see her before we leave."
"Oh, I'm sure you do," Annabella winked. "Give her my warm regards."
"No bada worry, Rickard, mi ago keep har safe," Mampai said
Rickard suddenly pointed at Rook, startling him.
"No messing about this time, Rook. Don't touch anything, don't get distracted. keep your wits about you and stay with her."
"Can we leave this useless deadbeat at the inn?" Ordin asked, gesturing to Rook.
"No. He's good at keeping our coin. Just not his own! He'd drink it all away if we let him."
"Good! Then we'll leave him here. What do we need an accountant for? By the Diva's grace, he can't swing a sword to save his life."
"Hey, I was with the Merchant City Guard, you know," Rook protested.
"And you got thrown in jail and kicked out for leaving your post to go drinking and whoring!" Ordin shot back, jabbing his thumb into his chest. "I can look after the coin. We don't need him!"
"He's the only one who keeps track of our expenses. Last time I left you in charge, our funds mysteriously vanished," Rickard said, gesturing with closed hands before spreading his fingers.
"That wasn't my fault! A thief stole our gold! If I'd caught them—"
"You kept all the gold in your personal pouch," Rook interrupted. "No wonder it got pinched. You could've deposited it into a merchant guild bank for a writ of credit." He unfurled a neatly written, stamped parchment, its golden runes glowing around the border. "Plus, you didn't even account for the gold you spen—"
Ordin grabbed Rook by the collar and growled, "Shut up, cat!"
"Enough! Just look after Annebella! Now get going!"
"You heard him, ducks, let's go!" said Annebella cheerfully as she took Ordin's arm and pulled him close to her.
With that, the group departed, and Rickard headed to the Celvaric temple.