1217-09-04
Run!
The bright sun blazed high above Sha'tar, its unyielding heat turning the bustling marketplace into an oven. My skin, already scorched from days in the desert, burned anew, but I couldn't stop. The guards were closing in.
The sandstone buildings of the city loomed around me, their smooth, golden walls reflecting the sunlight with a harsh brilliance. This city was an oasis in a wasteland, its marketplaces teeming with life under stone arches and colorful cloth awnings. I darted between stalls piled high with spices, gems, and food, my breath ragged as I clutched the bag tight to my chest. Inside, the Ance rattled like a curse.
"One bread for one var!" a merchant bellowed nearby, waving loaves as customers bartered frantically.
The scent of roasted meat and herbs filled the air, and I nearly collided with a stack of pottery.
My feet slid on the smooth stone floor, and I staggered into a vendor's table laden with dried fruits.
"Watch it!" the merchant shouted, shaking a fist.
"Sorry!" I called back, though I didn't stop.
Behind me, the guards' voices rose above the market's clamor. Their white and gold uniforms were unmistakable against the swirling desert robes of the locals. I risked a glance over my shoulder—they were close, too close.
My heart thundered as I made for the Depository, the largest building in the marketplace. Its towering walls of carved sandstone were adorned with gleaming gems that caught the sun like a beacon. It was a fortress of wealth and secrets, but its intricate design provided handholds.
I skidded to a halt at its base, yanking the grappling hook and rope from my belt. My hands fumbled, slick with sweat, but I managed to throw it high. The hook caught on the edge of a balcony.
"Get him!" one guard shouted.
With a desperate leap, I scaled the wall. My bag swung precariously, the Ance inside feeling heavier with every pull. As I reached the top, the city's chaos below seemed to fade, replaced by the rush of wind and the distant cries of traders.
Panting, all I could hear was my own breathing.
The ground began to shake.
I froze. A low rumble filled the air, growing louder until it seemed to come from every direction. The marketplace fell silent, the cries of merchants replaced by gasps of alarm.
A shadow passed over me. I looked up just in time to see wings sweeping across the sky.
A dragon.
It let out a roar that shook the buildings, the sound rolling through the city like thunder. The roof beneath me trembled, dust spilling from cracks in the sandstone.
I crouched low, clutching the bag tighter. Was it hunting me? My pulse hammered in my ears as the creature circled above, its serpentine body casting an ominous shadow over the Depository.
I should run.
But I couldn't move. Awe and terror rooted me to the spot as the dragon descended, its eyes glowing like molten gold.
Run!
Then came her.
The sky seemed to brighten, though the sun was already at its peak. Descending from above was Tamara, the Queen of Sha'tar, astride Horus, the legendary Sun Dragon. Unlike the desert dragons, Horus's scales gleamed with an almost blinding gold, reflecting the sunlight in dazzling beams.
It was said Horus could summon light so intense it could scorch armies and warmth so soothing it tamed the desert nights.
Tamara sat tall, her long, braided hair catching the wind as her cloak billowed behind her. She wore no armor, only flowing white and gold robes that glowed in Horus's radiant light. Her piercing gaze scanned the city below, and for a moment, I swore her eyes met mine.
My stomach dropped. She saw me.
But Horus soared past, its massive wings stirring a storm of dust and whispers. Behind her followed five other riders on desert dragons, their beasts swirling the air into eddies of heat and sand. The people below paused, shielding their eyes or bowing their heads in reverence. Sha'tar's Queen was as untouchable as the sun itself.
I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, watching as they landed near the distant palace, a hulking structure of sandstone and gems. The group of riders about six and soldiers dismounted, huddling together.
I shook off the lingering awe and leapt across the rooftops, the sandstone tiles warm under my boots. As the commotion faded, I slipped into an alley, tugging off my cowl and mask. I shoved them into my satchel and marked the spot in my memory. Disguise gone, I felt lighter, freer, though far from safe.
The city's nightly pulse was beginning. Merchants flooded in, setting up stalls under the arches to trade goods, while hunters sought new weapons to aid their pursuits. Unlike the chilled nights of other lands, Sha'tar's warmth endured even in darkness, thanks to Horus. Travelers donned thin cloaks of foreign design, their fabrics clashing with the locals' garments.
I wound my way through familiar streets, stopping at a corner stall where an elderly merchant called out to passersby. His bronze skin gleamed in the midday light, and his white hair stood out like a beacon. His face covered in welts.
"Necklaces for sale!" he bellowed, holding up a gleaming chain adorned with an amber gem.
When he caught sight of me, a grin crossed his weathered face. "Niu! Been a while."
"Still hawking those knockoff gems, Ramses?" I teased, picking up a necklace and holding it to the sun.
"Oi! These are genuine, straight from UIK merchants!"
"Uh-huh," I replied, tilting the necklace in the light. "And you're sure they didn't rip you off?"
His chuckle was low and warm. "You've got sharp eyes, kid. How've you been? What's in the bag?"
"Do you really have to ask?" I smirked, handing him a few hundred var.
He raised an eyebrow, pushing the coins back toward me. "I can't take stolen money, Niu."
"Consider it a gift from the Queen herself." My grin widened as I leaned in conspiratorially.
He hesitated, then laughed. "Alright, fine. But aren't you worried you'll get caught one of these days?"
"Our crew has a flawless strategy, Ramses. We've never been caught."
"And what do you even do with all that Ance you swipe?"
"That," I said, turning away with a wink, "is a secret."
His laughter followed me as I disappeared into the throng, the weight of the Ance in my bag a constant reminder of the risks I'd just taken—and the reward waiting for me.
The golden glow of Sha'tar's endless day began to fade, the city shifting into the muted hues of twilight. Though the sun dipped lower, the warmth lingered, sustained by the radiance of the Sun Dragon atop the palace. From the streets below, the people gazed at its light, their voices rising in reverent chants.
"Praise the Sun Dragon!"
"Glory to the Supreme Dragon"
"Glory to Tamara!"
Some fell to their knees, bowing in worship. For decades, Horus had kept Sha'tar alive, staving off the freezing desert nights with its warmth. Yet as much as I appreciated the creature's power, I could never bring myself to worship it—or the queen who wielded it.
I pulled my hood lower over my face and walked on, the bag of stolen Ance tucked beneath my cloak. My eyes flicked toward the palace, now just a small glimmer in the distance. The light of Horus blazed atop it, a beacon to the faithful and a warning to everyone else.
As the last of the daylight faded, the streets grew quieter. But something felt… off.. There were more guards than usual, their white-and-gold uniforms cutting stark figures against the sandstone walls. They weren't mounted on dragons this time, but their boots echoed against the cobblestone.
I glanced over my shoulder, my pulse quickening. A group of them was trailing me. Too many to be coincidental.
I turned down a narrow alley, quickening my pace. The guards followed. My breath hitched as I took another corner, then another, but their footsteps only grew louder.
No more hiding. Time to run.
I bolted, weaving through the maze of sandstone buildings. Shouts erupted behind me as the guards gave chase, their armor clanking with every step. My feet pounded against the stone as I scanned for an escape. There—a building with a slanted roof and lanterns hanging from its eaves.
A tavern.
I leapt toward the door, shoving it open and slipping inside just as the guards turned the corner.
The hum of conversations filled the air. Hunters with weathered faces and weapons strapped to their backs sat around tables. I caught snippets of their words—dragons captured in the Ashen Sands, battles fought in foreign lands.
An older woman with silver-threaded hair and a well-worn apron approached me. Her smile was tired.
"What can I get for you?" she asked.
I hesitated, glancing toward the door..
"Just water," I replied, keeping my voice steady.
She raised an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on the bag I clutched tightly. But she didn't ask questions, simply nodding and moving to fetch my drink.
I exhaled slowly, slipping into a seat near the back, hidden in the shadows. Around me, the hunters laughed and swapped stories, oblivious to the tension tightening my every muscle. For now, I was safe.
But I knew better than to believe it would last.
"Can I have a room?" I asked "How much for one night?" I added quickly, before she could ask any questions.
"For a single room, it'll be 120 var," she said, forcing a polite smile.
"I'll take it." I handed her the coins, careful to avoid letting my bag swing into view.
As she counted the var, she glanced up. "Would you like any food delivered to your room? Some stew, perhaps?"
"No, thank you." I shook my head.
Her smile softened as she handed me a key. "Room twenty-eight, up the stairs and to the left."
I nodded in thanks and climbed the creaking wooden stairs, the sounds of the lively tavern below fading with each step.
The room was simple, constructed from the same sandstone that made up the rest of the city. The walls were smooth and cool to the touch. Carvings of desert flowers and dragons adorned the edges of the walls. The floor was covered with woven mats.
In the corner stood a small bed draped with white sheets, neatly tucked. A modest desk with a single wooden chair sat under a narrow window. A candle flickered atop the desk, casting shadows across the walls.
The adjoining bathroom was just as modest, with a simple clay basin, a toilet, and a small shower. The sandstone tiles underfoot were smooth but slightly worn.
"Today has been hectic," I thought, sinking into the bed.
For the first time since the chase, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. I sat up on the bed, pulling the bag into my lap.
I untied the drawstring and opened it. Inside were hundreds of golden gems, their surfaces gleaming. Each gem was a marvel, its cream hue so pure it felt like holding a fragment of the desert itself.
Ance.
The name alone carried weight, whispered in hushed tones in Sha'tar's markets and taverns. Some said it was just a rare mineral, valued for its beauty. But others claimed it held ancient, untapped power.