My thoughts were still on my moon haired maiden. Did she ever exist? Or was she an illusion spell cast on me? I remember once, my father telling me of evil spirits that haunt humans. Manipulating them to do their higher bidding. He had seen many before, but held strong against their will. "Never fear evil son, It is just misguided energy! Stay true to what you feel is right" His words still ring out loudly to me to this day.
The sands bellowed in the wind, as the caravan of gliders made its way over the dunes. The sun was blistering my head until one of the sherpas traded me a better head wrap. I traded them a vapor vial and some rations. Seemed fair at the time, since the vial was half used anyway. I don't think he noticed.
It was a few hours before I spotted my first one, an electric, yellow dragonling burst through a dune off in the distance. The sands being picked up, and swirled into its energy, proved the young creature's power. The crew of the caravan explained, the dragons here are mostly gold, and crimson, as those are the ones that can survive the desert conditions. Dragons weren’t native to these dunes, and because of the lack of food, many did not reach full maturity. Those that did, needed to be hunted. They proved to be quite devastating on the local ecosystem.
The tales continued, with dragons of all colors being used to skip the sands long ago. The powerful priests of Pazmoltae used them to navigate the sands. The more influential they were, the more exotic their mount. Supposedly, it was quite difficult to sustain a blue, black, or white dragon here. They required magically cooled stables, and enchanted, fabric armor to fight off the heat of an intense summer's day.
I was transfixed, Pazmoltae, there it was again. I questioned my storytellers on what they knew of the mythical place. Surely they would know much, living in the desert that was said to contain it. My hopes were crushed, as all of the stories were what I had already heard. Except one piece of information I acquired.
"Only by a dragon's eye can you find Pazmoltae." This was interesting my friends, but how am I to obtain a dragon's eye. I was left to ponder this quest the rest of the ride across the shifting sands to the outpost of Taeah. A small collection of buildings that stood in the near middle of the great desert.
The sands here were more stable, able to support large structures, and boulders. The locals attribute this phenomenon to the massive green, and blue, crystal they centered their town around. The stone was opaque with large veins of white streaking through it. I think the surrounding mountain range offers most of the stability, but I am never one to debunk a legend.
The people here were quiet, and busy. Never a moment to be spared when you spend them prolonging your life. New dunes had to be moved when the winds shifted, and their walls, and barriers were constantly eroding away. Watching their daily lives go by made me thankful I was here by choice.
I was approached by one of them, he seemed to be a higher up based on his garb. He could at least afford to have color put into his baggy robe. There was a faint green hue to his turbine, albeit difficult to spot it under the layers of sand, and dust.
He introduced himself as Quebara, and he took the title of King of the Sands! “King” may be a bit bold of a title, based on the size of his camp. However, I was unaware of any other town out this far, so king is what I called him. He took great joy in my words, boasting a huge smile, and looking around to his people, who seemed uninterested in my dissolution. He opened his town to me, and even offered a welcoming trinket. He placed a small, cloth wrapped, item into my hand.
I untied the package, and dumped the contents. I immediately felt a jolt of energy rush through my arm as the item made contact. Holding it in the light, I could see it was a smaller chunk of the ornate stone that sat in the center of town.
“A locator,” the sand king exclaimed! “The mother stone is a beacon that guides us all through the shifting sands. It is the only landmark that seems to stay true. These are required to travel on foot around here. I trust you did not come here for the sights.” he finished with a snort.
I continued to inspect the stone, and found it glowed brightly when held in the direction of the mother stone. Quebara broke my trance, and snatched me by the arm. He demanded to show me the town. I reluctantly agreed. Still, traveling through a town with its king is surely the way to see the best of what it offered, hopefully…
I grew to learn that the people did not hold the king in the same high regard as he held himself. His commands, and requests either fell to deaf ears or were drowned out by laughter, yet through it, he held a smile on his face. He reassured me that his people were just tired, and hungry, and will find the respect for him they lost when harvest comes. Quite strange, what sort of crop do you grow in a barren waste? When I asked, a bead of sweat formed on his nose and a hot gust of air absorbed it quickly. This offered a good moment to sweep the question under the rug. We continued on with our tour, “looking for a drink”. Perhaps he didn’t know what crop they grew here, he seemed like that kind of ruler.
Eventually, we came upon a large tent on the edge of the village. The light was low and gentle on its enamored patreons. The brew was difficult to discern, but their regulars seemed to approve. I took a slow pace on the cup that the king bought me.
Quebara did not show the drink the same respect, pouring through a solid half dozen before our dinner came. He held his composure extremely well for the amount of booze rushing through his veins. The meal was better than expected, for the limited ingredients available. The skill of the chef showed through his food.
"The finest Jaqqi you will have in all the land!" I will never forget that meal. I've had jaqqi before, but not this tender. They usually are extremely tough, from the large amount of digging they do to set traps in the sand for their prey, and when I've prepared them, I can never get all the grit out of the skin.
I tried to get the king to introduce me to the chef, but he brushed me off, telling me that he is far too busy. The tent was nearly empty, but I decided not to push it. Quebara had been nice to me, and quite generous with his town.
We were almost done with our meal, when something caught the king's attention. A wide grin grew across his face. His moustache curls almost touching each other above his plump nose.
"Ahhh finally the harvest has come in,"he sighed in a hushed tone. A look of concern snapped across his face when he realized he spoke aloud. He looked at me and smiled, "I will be needing to take off; business to attend too." I was too curious, and a bit tipsy from the drink, so I mistakenly asked to see the crop.
The king frowned, and brushed his fingers nails on his sleeve. "Sorry boy, official king business, must keep the people happy." He then excused himself from the table, and headed out the back of the tent. I took in the scene for a moment, my cup was low, but my interest peaked.
It was dark, so I easily slipped out the back of the tent. Quebara had made enough of a distance in my pause to not hear me. The crescent moon offered little light, and the perfect opportunity for nefarious work. The king's silhouette disappeared around a corner, and I took a few big steps trying to catch up.
My heart leapt, when I heard the overloaded cart skis creak. I drove behind a pile of what looked like drying leather. The cart sounds grew louder, and eventually I could make out Quebara, soon followed by a dusty glider.
They stopped out behind the bar, and a couple of goons started to unload the back. They were holding big burlap sacks, which seemed pretty heavy. At least, too heavy for Quebara to move. He found a much more aggressive tone when talking to his cohorts. Claiming the cargo was "precious, and delicious." Could it be the jaqqi?
The alcohol was still invigorating me, and I almost broke my silence offering my help,but something caught my eye. As I brought my hand to my mouth to call out, the pendant Quebara had given me was glowing brightly in my hand.
"Be careful with that malachite! We don't need another one breaking," the king proclaimed.
"Yea, yea boss. We got it. Put it next to the big one to charge it up. No dropping." The goons replied in unison. I looked back to the cart, and saw two massive brutes coming my way. They were holding a large piece of the green stone, which made my pendant grow to an overbearing brightness, and I quickly cupped my hands around it.
Luckily the brutes were too stupid to notice. It would seem that any large piece of this “malachite” will make the smaller fragments glow, I looked back to Quebara. He was hopping down from the cart, with several worn pendants, all featuring a fragment of malachite. He coveted the stones, as he walked back into the bar. I decided to just go to my tent, that “jaqqi” wasn’t agreeing with my stomach.
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