Chapter 39

You watched out the window in morbid fascination as Pharaoh Nefkara’s troops “negotiated” their way through a centaur blockade. The poor fools had seen the glitz of your carriage and decided that it was payday. Already a foolish decision considering you had a small army of special forces, but in all fairness, there HAD been a lot of centaurs and the chariots couldn’t be used after they had blocked the road with fallen trees. A normal caravan would have surrendered or been peppered with arrows until they capitulated. It even seemed like Tsakali had seriously contemplated paying them off in the name of punctuality. But then one of them saw you and decided that she wanted to get paid in a DIFFERENT way.

Now, horse woman were running about in chaos as the soldiers swiftly routed them. No serious wounds, by the look of things, but the way Tsakali had put her khopesh through the first centaur didn’t look very pleasant…

The last of the beast women retreated into the forest and Tsakali returned to the carriage.

“To think that wet-landers let their roads be overrun with scum like this!” she said, removing her helmet. “Though I hesitate to call these swaths of muck ‘roads.’”

You nodded. It seemed a bit unfair to get uppity about the road conditions when Tsakali had told you in no uncertain terms that all roads in the Capsalisma desert were loose paths of sandstone and packed dunes. Apparently you had to time your travels just right to make sure the dunes wouldn’t be blown onto the roads when you were scheduled to be crossing them.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry that you had to see such barbarism…” said Tsakali.

“I’ve seen worse.” You shrugged. The fights in the canteen at Valisisas were more savage than this slaughter. Realm silver wounds just closed up; bare hands left bruises and lumps that lasted for days.

Tsakali’s ears perked up. “Truly? I suppose that your presence would attract some especially… voracious suitors…”

Tsakali sat down across from you in the carriage’s sitting area. The car lurched, and the procession continued. You opened your journal and scribbled a quick anecdote about the fight. There wouldn’t be much else to do this trip besides write and read. The anubis’ curiosity was palpable. She kept her head twisted to the side, looking out the window, but her eyes kept darting back to the open pages.

“Is there something you’d like to know?” you asked.

Tsakali blushed and cleared her throat. “No! I was just curious, that’s all. You’re always scribbling away in that journal. What do you write about?”

“What I see, things about my world, future plans… Anything I feel like, I suppose.” You said.

Her tail swished behind her. “May I see it?”

You hesitated. Most of the time, you were kind enough to let a monster take a brief look at your journal, just to satisfy their curiosity. However, your generosity was always predicated on the fact that no one could understand what was written in it; even if the monster was to steal the book, it would be worthless to her. But something about Tsakali’s glinting turquoise eyes bespoke a hidden depth. There was hunger in those eyes.

“Are you married?” you asked abruptly, laying one arm over the journal.

Tsakali’s eyes widened. Then she laughed and got up from the bench. Grabbing a long pole from beside the door, she tapped on a panel near the ceiling on the far wall of the carriage. A moment later the wooden panel opened, and the carriage driver stuck his head through.

“Something wrong, babe?” he inquired to the anubis.

“No, sweetie. I just wanted to introduce you to our guest, Anon.” she said, gesturing to you.

The driver pulled his goggles up to his forehead and smiled at you. “It’s an honor to meet you! I promise the ride will get smoother once we hit dunes.”

You nodded at him, taken aback by the whole situation. “Yeah, thanks for the ride.” You said.

“Just holler if you need anything!” he said. The panel slid shut again and Tsakali retook her seat.

“I’m sorry for making you nervous. Have no fear; the Pharaoh ensured that only married mamono were sent to retrieve you.” Said Tsakali. “Idrial meant what he said too. He was a merchant driver before I married him. I’ve never met a better navigator and caravanner in my life.”

You relaxed. Traveling in groups like this always made you nervous. You never knew which monsters could be trusted, and which were only ostensibly kind.

“That’s his name? Idrial?” you smirked.

“Yes, wh- Oh! He forgot to say his name, didn’t he? I apologize he get’s so excited sometimes. Honestly, I don’t know how he would find his own pants if I didn’t keep his things organized.” Said Tsakali.

You smiled. It never failed to amaze you how every monster couple you came across did their absolute best to support each other. Even their spousal kvetching boiled down to worry about their partner. You wrote down Idrial’s name in your journal to avoid an awkward reintroduction later. Tsakali watched you hawkishly. You glanced up at her.

“So… May I see it?” asked Tsakali sheepishly.

“I can just answer any questions you have.” You said dismissively. “After all, that would save you all the headache of translating the writing.”

Tsakali smiled. “Oh, I’m afraid I can’t read your language. I merely wanted to see what it looked like.”

You frowned. Tsakali didn’t seem like the kind of person who WOULDN’T know the language of a guest she was sent to fetch. The lecture she had given you about Kyriavalissa had lasted for HOURS, delving into such minute details including the fashion of the era and the names of the Pharaoh’s pets through out the dynasties. She had also said that Pharaoh Nefkara had been studying your culture intently. Tsakali had demonstrated her interest in your language when she first met you. But was that really the extent of her knowledge of English?

“If you’re not comfortable, I understand. It’s a journal after all. I would be nervous if anyone flipped through my thoughts as well.” Said Tsakali.

You pursed your lips and nodded. It really was impossible to hide anything from this dog…

“Say, all this talk of writing reminds me: you don’t know any Capsalisman dialects, do you?” said Tsakali excitedly.

“Afraid not.” You said.

“Not surprising. The civilizations in the Capsalisma are very insular. If a city doesn’t fall near a major trade route, chances are that they never see any outsiders other than the slave merchants and wandering bachelors.” Said Tsakali.

You gulped at the mention of slavers. Tsakali had said that unlike other parts of the continent, there were almost no human settlements in the Capsalisma save for a few ports along the coast. If a monster wanted a husband, it came down to buying one from the slaver caravans, seducing one of the traveling merchants, or relying on Eros missionaries to send letters to bachelors outside the desert in the hope that they visit. You thought the last one sounded pretty romantic, even by Earth standards. Apparently, the Temple of Eros even footed the bill to transport the men to whatever dinky oasis town the girl hailed from.

“We can practice a few basic phrases and words, just so you won’t be totally lost if you ever lose that trinket.” Said Tsakali. “As for writing, that might take a bit more time…”

“Let me guess, hieroglyphs?” you said.

Tsakali grinned. “I hope all that doodling made you better at drawing.” Said Tsakali, eyeing the crude depiction of a centaur you had made in the margins of your writing.

You smirked. “They can’t be THAT complicated, right? If they were, it would take forever to write anything.”

Tsakali smiled. “Of course. It’s simple once you get the hang of it. How would you like to learn how to write an introduction?”

~~~~~~~

Bird, reed, man holding hand up, squiggle, ducks, water. That looked about right.

You slid your journal back to Tsakali for inspection.

She snickered, but tried to maintain her aloof composure.

“The first character is backwards.” She said, tapping the bird.

“So?! Who cares which way it faces!” you said.

“It’s just gibberish if you aren’t careful.” Said Tsakali.

“People won’t really confuse this with something else, will they? I’ve written in Common for a while most monsters can understand what I’m saying even if I make a mistake of two. Same thing with English; even if monsters mess up a few letters, I can usually interpret what they meant.” You said.

Tsakali shook her head. “That isn’t the point. You should strive to be as precise and articulate as you can be. In ALL things. Do not let yourself stumble through life on close enough. If you do, you will always be known a fool. That sentence you just wrote? You thanked someone for the pillow you just ate.”

“…Okay, but which part is pillow?” you said.

Tsakali pointed out your mistake and you scrawled out a note in the margin. Thank God you were only sojourning through this place. The only things you needed to learn were things that pertained to your trip.

“Now let’s get into personal relationships. Here’s how you write wife…”

Grabbing a piece of parchment, she dipped the quill into the ink and set to work. Her large paws beguiled practiced dexterity. They weren’t quite as big as the picture in the encyclopedia suggested, but were still proportioned a bit bigger than a normal human’s hand. She passed the sheet to you.

“This one is easy. Just a ‘U’ shape with a squiggle for water.” She said.

No way you could mess that up. You replicated it in your own journal and showed it to her.

“Good, good. You’ll be writing Capsalisman script in no time.” Said Tsakali.

You wrote ‘wife’ next to the symbol. If only all words in this language were so easy.

Tsakali stretched and looked out the window. “It will be nightfall soon. Your living arrangements will be this coach, if you couldn’t tell.” She said, gesturing to the bed.

“I can already tell that it’s more comfortable than the one I’m used to.” You said.

Tsakali’s tail wagged. “Of course it is. The Pharaoh has spared no expense ensuring your comfort. This vessel is as comfortable as it is secure.”

“Glad to hear. You don’t mind if I put some extra wards down just in case, right?” you said.

Tsakali scowled at you. “There is no need! I assure you that protective spells FAR stronger than any you could conjure are already in place. Adding any more would only disrupt the existing magic.”

Alright, geez. No offence intended lady. You couldn’t help but notice her tail got all bushy when she got upset. Cute! At least you had ONE tell to break the stoic veil she kept.

“Idrial!” shouted Tsakali.

The port to the driver’s seat opened. “Quitting time already?” asked Idrial.

“I want to have time to establish fortifications. The serfs of Valisias saw what we took, and I’d say that it’s unquestionable that at least a few will come for us under the cover of night.” Said Tsakali.

“Understood. I’ll look for a place to camp.” Said Idrial. He shut the port, and a horn sounded.

Tsakali yawned and flopped onto the bench. “By the sun, this whole day has been exhausting. How do you live with all this… what’s the word? For all the water in the air?”

“Humidity.” You said.

“Yes! Gods, what a pain! It’s making my tail all frizzy.” Said Tsakali, cradling her black tail.

“You get used to it.” You said.

“I’m quite happy NOT getting used to it. I’ll take sand over muck any day of the week.” Said Tsakali.

“Are there seasons in the Capsalisma?” you asked.

Tsakali nodded. “We don’t have nearly as much change as you northerners. But there are two distinct seasons: flood season, and dry season. The city’s economy and foodstuffs revolve around the cycles of the Skotenthram River.”

You yawned. So much to learn, so little time. Just one day into your crash course on Kyriavalissan culture and language and you had already forgotten so much. Nothing a good sleep couldn’t fix.

The carriage took a gentle turn as Idrial steered the coach off the road. Looking out the window, you could see that he had parked on a rocky bluff next to the road. Any attackers would have to face down a wall of mummies, or scale the cliff. Outside, the various monsters comprising your entourage were unpacking wagons and chariots, and pitching tents. You were a little confused about the general lack of camp preparation going on, until you remembered that the majority of soldiers were undead. Standing guard all night must not be that big of a deal when you were indefatigable.

You knew which tent was Tsakali’s the second you saw a ghoul carrying in an actual mattress. Through the tent flap you caught a glimpse of a smattering of carpets, a desk stacked with papers, and a small brazier in the middle to keep the whole place warm. Talk about glamping.

Tsakali let out a warbling high-pitched moan as she stretched. “I hate to leave you alone, but there is some VERY important paperwork that needs to be filled out. I’ll rouse you in the morning for breakfast.”

“I’m going to be alone in here, right?” you asked. “No guards hidden under the bed, no ghosts waiting in the walls, right?”

Tsakali chuckled. “I can see if any of the mummies want to watch you sleep, if you’re feeling lonely.”

You snorted.

Tsakali grinned smugly. “Fine. But if you’re planning on ‘relieving’ yourself, please make sure you don’t get any on the-“

“GOODNIGHT!” you said loudly, slamming the door in her face.

Pulling the curtains shut, you tossed your tattered clothes aside and put on your night wear. Stepping up to the bed, you gave the mattress an experimental touch. The cool fabric was every bit as soft as you had imagined it to be. Throwing the blankets over yourself, you slipped in and rested your head on the pillow. Holy shit, the thread count on these sheets must be in the triple digits. Thrashing around in your newfound comfort, you paused as your nose picked up a curious scent.

Sitting up, you gave a few sniffs. Had a monster already breached your sanctum? The aroma was strong enough to suggest that whatever it was, it was close. Following your nose, you traced the source back to the pillow. The case seemed to be in order; no signs of tampering, no damp spots where a potion was poured, and no glowing magical seals. Pulling the case off, you took a look at the pillow itself. Near one corner, you noticed a small feather protruding from the bag of down. Pulling it free, you ignited a small spark in your hand with magic and held the feather to the light.

It was a coppery red, and had an unusual texture. You sniffed it. It had an indescribable scent. Like jasmine, sweat, cinnamon and mint all mixed into one. A gandharva feather.

No doubt about it, this Pharaoh was stacked. In a financial sense. Probably physically too, now that you think about it. Surely mooching a ship fare from her wouldn’t be too hard. As long as you remained cordial. She was a queen, and she would act like royalty. That meant you would have to swallow your pride and grit your teeth as she prodded and pestered you with every inane question or conversation topic she could come up with.

You shifted under the sheets. She was more than that wasn’t she? Practically a god. As far as you knew, she had minor dominion over the sun itself. Dominion over you too, if she felt like it. One phrase from her charmed tongue and you would be powerless to resist her. Tomorrow you would ask Tsakali what the Pharaoh was like. If she was as single as she sounded, you might have to turn this trip into a mad dash to the port. Three weeks of talk should be enough to give you a proper idea of what Nefkara’s personality was really like. You could find a way to read Tsakali just as well as she read you. No one was going to get the drop on you this time.

~~~~~~

Tsakali moved to the back of the carriage. Extending her paw, she channeled a bit of magic into the secret spell seals carved into the back of the carriage. The seals were perfectly hidden amidst the ornate carvings that decorated the coach. One by one, she ran her hands over them. Diagnostic data flowed into her mind as the runes gathered information from the interior. The temperature was optimal, there were no threats, and Anon was fast asleep.

“Just for good measure…” she murmured.

Channeling a bit of power into a rune, she sent Anon into an even deeper slumber. Slinking to the carriage door, she opened it and slipped inside.

She moved quietly, but without hesitation over to the table where Anon’s journal rested. Taking care to memorize the position it was in, she took out a small scroll from her dress and unfurled it. Within was written all the English words she needed to know, as well as their Capsalisman counterparts. Flipping to the last pages of Anon’s diary, she ran a claw across his sloppy hieroglyphs. Her eyes flitted between his own translations and the ones she and the other scholars had cobbled together based on the books they had obtained. She gave a small huff of satisfaction. Everything seemed to be in order. The efficacy of a second hand translation had been dubious to Tsakali, but she was pleased to see that The College of Admaz had done their due diligence in translating Anon’s language.

Her claw stopped over the ‘U’ symbol with the wave in the middle. Wife. That was the word was one of the most crucial. Flipping back through the journal, she picked a page near the beginning and began to translate the key words.

~~~~~~~

“Anon, breakfast.” Called Tsakali.

You swung your feet over the side of the bed and stretched. Just like you thought: the bed was amazing! You felt more rested after one night on this mattress than you did in all the months at Valisias combined. The power of lumbar support was a thing to be feared.
Outside the carriage, you were greeted with the sorry sight of a single campfire cooking a small pot of stew. The rest of the camp had been completely repacked into the chariots and wagons. You felt a bit guilty being one of the only living creatures there; all the mummies and ghouls had to wait around awkwardly while the few living troops took turns gathering stew from the bowl and bread from a small oven nearby.

“Here you are.” Said Tsakali cheerily, passing you a bowl.

You greedily accepted it and began to spoon the concoction into your mouth. It was hearty enough to be filling, but not too heavy for a breakfast dish.

“Not a very traditional desert breakfast, but you’ll have plenty of those once we reach the palace.” Said Tsakali.

She handed you a slice of bread and you dipped it into the soup.

“What do you usually eat?” you asked.

“Bread, some fruit, a bit of yoghurt or cheese if I feel like something more filling.” Said Tsakali.

Sounded almost like a Mediterranean meal.

One of the mummies kicked dirt over the fire and the entire cooking station was disassembled in seconds. No sooner had you finished your soup than a mummy gently pulled the bowl from your hands. You were left with the remains of your fresh baked bread, still steaming in the morning mist.

“Ready to go?” asked Tsakali.

You stuffed the last of the bread into your mouth and nodded. Climbing into the carriage after her, the car lurched forward, and your journey south continued.

~~~~~~~~~

For days, you traveled uninterrupted. After a week had passed, the landscape was noticeably different from the deciduous forests and fertile plains of Valisisas. The land here was more arid. Grass was still plentiful, but occasionally there would be a rocky outcropping that lay bare, or a patch of wilted brown grass, desiccated by the sun. You could feel it in the air as well. The drop in humidity had been pleasant, and you no longer worried about offending Tsakali with the stench of your sweat as you sat idle in the coach.

Your hand worked slowly as you lazily sketched out some of the surrounding landscape. It looked like something out of a Greek tourism magazine. Rocky hills dotted with what looked like juniper and cypress trees.

“We’ll be stopping soon.” Said Tsakali, not looking up from her pile of paperwork.

“For lunch?” you asked. Usually the caravan would provide some sort of cold lunch that could be eaten without interrupting the brutal pace of the journey.

“No, we’re changing out our draft animals.” Said Tsakali with a small smirk.

“Huh?” you asked.

Tsakali tapped her papers on the table to get them all into a neat stack. “Horses wouldn’t be able to make the trip through the desert. We only used them because the desert beasts would have been too slow in these wet-lands.”

“Desert beasts?”

“Yes, I doubt there was anything quite like them in your world. They’re big enough to pull the coach, but hardy enough to survive without much water or food.” Said Tsakali.

“That sounds like a {camel}.” You said.

Tsakali cocked her head. “Cah-mul?”

“Yeah. Big, long-necked creatures with a hump in their back that they stored fat in. They were used for transport in the deserts of my world. Sometimes…” you said.

Tsakali blushed. It sounded like desert beasts were a bit closer to camels than she thought. Just because Earth didn’t have latent demonic magic seeping into it’s fauna didn’t mean there weren’t plenty of weird critters running around.

“I-I see. Well, that does sound a BIT like the desert beasts… You shall see shortly. In fact, I think I can see the trading post from here.” Said Tsakali. She squinted out the window into the distance. “Yes! There it is.”

“Where is it?” you asked. All you could see were rocky cliffs and scrubland.

“There. Built into the cliff face.” Said Tsakali.

Looking closer, you could see the faint shapes of blocky buildings carved into the side of the cliff. The whole settlement was built so that the hovels were shaded from the harsh midday sun. Chariots were already veering down the rough cobble remains (or maybe it had always looked like this) of a road towards the town.

“Welcome to Palivraho. Premier trading destination for traders from the Capsalisma and North Lands alike.” Said Tsakali.

“Really?” you said, in a more disbelieving tone than you meant. It looked a little… ramshackle for such a title.

“I know that it doesn’t look like much, but most of the city is located inside.” Said Tsakali.

“Inside?”

“You’ll see. We can buy lunch at the market.” Said Tsakali.

Whatever was in that smattering of buildings, it was enough to make her tail wag. So it couldn’t be all bad, right? The carriage trundled to a stop, and Tsakali disembarked celeritously with a spring in her step.

“Come on, you want to see what’s inside, don’t you?” she asked.

Her tail was vigorously thrashing the air by now, and she had begun to sniff the air.

“You just can’t help yourself when we stop here, can you?” said Idrial, hopping down from his driver’s seat.

“T-this is a VERY important stop on our journey.” Protested Tsakali, folding her arms defensively.

“And you would still stop here even if the market stopped serving those bread-wraps?” asked Idrial.

Bread-wrap? That didn’t sound that special. Wasn’t that just a glorified sandwich?

Tsakali gasped. “O-of course! Not that that would ever happen. They won’t ever go out of business. Right? I mean, they’re too good. Surely they won’t ever run out of customers… I’ll buy an extra today to make sure that they have enough money!”

She walked past you towards the collection of buildings, sniffing loudly.

“Come on, let’s go. There’s no stopping her once she sets her mind on something.” Said Idrial.

A cohort of the Pharaoh’s soldiers followed you as you approached the cliff-town. A few small shops dotted the cliffs, as well as a few stabling companies. You caught a glimpse of what looked like the bastard child of a camel and a buffalo, and deduced that they were probably the creatures that Tsakali had spoken of. What you HADN’T seen from the road was the staircase leading up into the cliff itself. Monsters and their husbands bustled past you (as close as the guards allowed) as they came or left. Climbing up the cool stone steps you were greeted with a fantastical sight. It may not have been what you would call a city, but it was certainly everything Tsakali had promised it to be.

A massive pool of water bubbled up in the center of a cavernous room, open to the world via a hole in the top that spanned hundreds of feet. Mirrors positioned at precise angles shone light into more stores carved into the rock faces. There was an upper and lower section, each with their own walkways. Around the pool, tents, stalls, and huts selling everything imaginable littered the ground. The area must have been communal, as dozens of foreign and exotic plants were scattered around the oasis in pots or in small beds. Like some sort of bizarre mall in the middle of the nowhere.

“Wow…” you said.

“Yep, never gets old.” Smiled Idrial. He sighed as he surveyed the crowd. “Best find the wife. Come on, I know exactly where she is.”
Idrial led you through the crowd towards the food stalls. A patio had been laid out with tables and chairs for all sizes of monsters. Your mouth began to water as a medley of aromas accosted your nose.

“There she is.” Said Idrial.

Tsakali was waiting in line for a small stall nestled under the second story walkway. Her clawed foot tapped impatiently as she waited for the line to progress. Every now and then she would crane her neck to see how far away from the front she was, even if the line hadn’t moved. The succubus behind her was forced to keep her distance, lest she be swatted to death by Tsakali’s tail.

“Do you want to be the one to tell the Pharaoh that you abandoned your charge for street food, or shall I have the honors?” asked Idrial.

Tsakali blenched at his sudden address. She whipped around and looked at him, ears flattened against her head.

“I did NOT leave him! Look at how many soldiers there are! He’s fine! I was never more than a few paces ahead of him!” she said quickly.

“Uh huh.” Said Idrial.

“…Please don’t tell.” Said Tsakali quietly.

“It’s fine, I know you can’t help yourself when it comes to these things.” Sighed Idrial.

Tsakali’s tail resumed its thrashing as she turned her attention back towards the stall.

“How many do you guys want? I’m getting four, no, five! What about you?” she asked.

“I’ll take one.” Said Idrial.

“Right! So that’s seven so far. Anon, do you want some?” asked Tsakali.

“How big are they?” you asked. You still didn’t know what the hell you were about to consume, but they smelled delicious. And a line THIS long had to count for something, right?

Tsakali held her paws about twenty centimeters apart.

“Yeah, give me two.” You said. This was the only food you would get until dinner, and you were starving. Better to have leftovers than to go hungry.
“Got it. I’ll get a dozen, just to have a nice even number.” Said Tsakali.

You glanced at Idrial. He looked back at you with a knowing stare.

“I’m going to buy some stomach medicine. Make sure she only buys a dozen.” He said, patting your shoulder. Idrial disappeared through the crowd towards a different part of the trading post.

Tsakali reached the counter and dumped a small bag of silver coins onto the stall’s counter. “GIVE ME FIFTEEN!” she demanded.

“Twelve!” you shouted angrily.

The sphinx taking orders froze, looking between you, Tsakali, the pile of money, the platoon of guards surrounding you, the growing line of monsters, and decided that making only twelve bread-wraps was probably the prudent thing to do.

“Anon! Why?!” whined Tsakali.

“What do you mean ‘why’?! You’re not going to eat nine of whatever these things are!” you said.

Tsakali looked dumbly at you. “…Nine?”

“Yes! Idrial and I are only getting three! You ordered a dozen!” you said.

Tsakali contemplated the statement. “You’ll want more than two.” She said with a satisfied nod of her head.

The sphinx handed her a bag of food.

“Let’s go!” said Tsakali, running past you towards the tables.

You followed her over to an isolated table with a good view of Palivraho’s interior. Tsakali hadn’t waited for you to sit down, already scarfing her way through her second bread wrap. She growled when you extended your had towards the bag, but quickly composed herself and offered you one.

It was a piece of some tortilla or bread with meat inside (of dubious origin), deep-fried and crimped together along one side. You took a bite. It was delicious, and more importantly it confirmed your suspicions. This cuisine wasn’t exclusive to the mamono world.

“This is an {empanada}.” You said through a mouthful of meat.

Tsakali cocked her head at you, cheeks bulging with food. “Wusht?”

“They had these in my world.” You said, taking another bite. “I guess the amulet tried to find the closest possible word.”

“Uh huh.”

Tsakali ignored your question and went back to her meal. She messily tore through a third empanada, flecks of fried corn and meat sticking to the fur of her paws. Control yourself, woman…

Idrial returned after a few minutes and ate his share of Tsakali’s food.

“Anon, can you give her this? She’ll need it in about half an hour.” Said Idrial. He gave you a small vial of cerulean liquid.
Tsakali glared at him. “Is that stomach medicine? I don’t need that!”

“Not yet. How many have you eaten?” asked Idrial.

“Four.” Said Tsakali defensively, halfway through her sixth empanada.

“Uh huh. Anon, when you give it to her, tell her ‘I told you so’ for me.” Said Idrial.

“You’ll see!” said Tsakali.

~~~~~~

“Idrial told you so.” You said, passing Tsakali the vial of medicine.

Tsakali moaned in pain, too busy lamenting her gluttonous impulse to consume the medicine. She was splayed out on the bench across from you, half of her hanging off one side as she quietly suffered.

“Too many…” she whined.

“You ate eight of them.” You said. In the end, you had eaten a third. For her sake and yours. It already looked like she was on death’s door. “Drink the medicine.”

Tsakali fumbled with the stopper and swallowed the fluid. You took the glass back from her and set it down.

“I’m going to sleep for a bit.” Said Tsakali softly.

“That’s probably for the best.” You assured.

You lowered the shade for her. Nothing to see now, you were within the Capsalisma desert. The mummies had changed out the horses for desert beasts, massive hunks of muscle covered in thin curly hair with dark brown heads. They looked like someone had squashed a camel’s neck down and fed it a diet of pure creatine. And added a LOT of teeth. They gave you the creeps. Good thing you didn’t have to look at them much.

Flipping open your journal, you drew a crude picture of one. When Tsakali woke up, you would ask her what the hieroglyphs for desert beast were. Even after days of rigorous study, you were still nescient in regards to their language. Flipping back through the journal, you noticed something strange. A small lump near the edge of one page. Turning back all the way to your time in Valisias, you inspected the offending paper.

It was a page you had accidentally spilled some water on while writing out your ideas for which species to wife. Something had punched a small hole through the page. You frowned. What could have done that? You didn’t remember any damage other than the water. And you kept the journal under lock and key; it was arguably your most important possession. Filled with all the memories you had of Earth. Things that if you forgot, would be gone forever.

You chalked it up to wear and tear. The page was already brittle after all. Returning to your drawing, you sketched in the pointy teeth of the draft beast.

~~~~~~~

Tsakali slowly closed the door to the coach. The cool desert wind made a low, sibilant hum in her cropped ears as she walked to her tent. She didn’t worry about the tracks she left behind; the wind would bury them by morning. A few desert beasts gave her a half-lidded stare as she passed them.

Slipping inside the tent, she prodded the brazier with a poker to coax more heat out of the dying embers.

“Haven’t you translated enough?” asked Idrial.

“Her Highness was very clear: I am to find ALL information about the topics she designated.” Said Tsakali.

“It looks like you’ve translated that entire book of his…” said Idrial.

“Only the important bits.” She said, waggling the freshly translated page over her shoulder. She added it to the pile with the others.
“Have you found anything important yet?” asked Idrial.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I happened to find a few key points already.” Said Tsakali.

“I’m sure Her Highness will be pleased.” Said Idrial.

“Not likely.”

“Oh?”

“She ordered a report. I don't think she'll enjoy what it entails…” said Tsakali.

“Cryptic tonight, aren’t we?” mused Idrial.

“Shut up and take off your pants.” Growled Tsakali.

“Still hungry after all those wraps?” teased Idrial.

Tsakali pounced on him and pinned him to the mattress. “Let’s see how long you can keep up that smart-ass act.”

Idrial kissed her nose. “As long as you need, honey~”

~~~~~~~

Your trip through the Capsalisma was eerily unimpeded. Nothing but a loose assemblage of sandstone blocks forming the road, dunes, and blue sky for as far as the eye could see. Thank God Tsakali had had the foresight to bring some books written in Common. The only reprieve you had from your boredom was a brief stop in a kephri controlled city-state to stock up on supplies for the last leg of the trip. You had even had the privilege of meeting the king! He was a pretty cool guy. Maybe you’d visit with the wife sometime.

“Anon, look!” said Tsakali, pointing out the window.

Off in the distance, a sandworm arced out of the desert and plunged back beneath the sand.

“Oh fuck, is it coming for us?!” you asked. Magic was all well and good, but there was no way you could fight off a fully grown sandworm.

“No, see the striping? She’s one of ours.” Said Tsakali. The sandworm did indeed have a series of dark blue whorls and patterns smeared along the side of her carapace.

“Ours?”

“Most sandworms live in the Great Expanse, a region of the Capsalisma northwest of here. There are no settlements for hundreds of miles. Since no humans set foot in the Expanse, many sandworms volunteer for a short term of mercenary service in exchange for a husband.” Said Tsakali.

“Mercenary sandworms?” you asked. The concept sounded too goofy to be true.

“Indeed. You won’t lose cargo to raiders with a sandworm protecting your caravan, that’s for sure. Every independent city-state has a few on payroll as well.”

“Is there really need for a worm-garrison? This doesn’t seem like a war-torn region of the world to me.” You said.

Tsakali squirmed. “There are… powers that constantly seek to upset the balance between nations.”

You nodded. “An apophis?”

Tsakali nodded.

“How dangerous is she?”

“Very. She is weaker than the Pharaoh, but she still poses a significant threat. She would be destroyed if she ever attacked, but we would suffer catastrophic losses as well.” Said Tsakali.

“This apophis, how far away is she?” you asked.

“Far. Too far to worry about.” Said Tsakali.

You relaxed. That was reassuring. One less thing to worry about.

Tsakali laid out a map on the table and hummed happily. “We’ll be arriving midday tomorrow. Oh! I almost forgot! Her Highness had some garments made for you.”

Tsakali opened the bottom drawer of the dresser (unused since you had been living out of your trunk like a slob) and produced a set of ornamental clothing.

“You can wear these as we enter the city.” Said Tsakali, wagging her tail.

You looked askance at the clothing. How did you even wear this thing? It was divided into two pieces, each with a hole big enough to fit your whole body through and enough gems to buy a palace.

“I’ll help you put it on in the morning.” Said Tsakali.

You smiled at her. “I think that would be for the best.”

~~~~~~~

“Ooh!~ You look so dapper in that outfit!” squealed Tsakali.

You looked yourself over in the small mirror on the wall. The clothes were divided into two pieces: a shawl-like piece that covered some of your body, and a longer waist cloth that clothed your legs. A thick necklace of beads and jewels adorned your throat, complimenting the colors of cloth that ran around the edge of the shawl. A simple, yet elegant ensemble. You felt more regal already!
“Don’t forget the headdress!” said Tsakali. She plopped a miter-esque hat on your head.

“Looks good.” You nodded, twisting to inspect the back of the waist cloth.

“Doesn’t it? I love wearing ceremonial clothing.” Said Tsakali. She was wearing her own special dress, a stunning piece with cloth woven to look like her midriff was being embraced by a pair of wings. You were pleased to see that the khopesh had finally been replaced with a small ceremonial dagger. A ruby pommel glinted at the end of an ivory handle.

“Anon, before we get to the city, we need to go over a few rules.” Said Tsakali sternly.

“Okay.”

“First rule: Do whatever Her Highness tells you to. No buts, no whys, no complaints.”

You pursed your lips. “That’s…”

“I know it sounds imperious. But she has a VERY specific way of doing things. And she does NOT tolerate flippancy.” Said Tsakali.
You gulped. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake after all. You and flippancy went hand in hand; you just couldn’t help it! Whenever some pompous monster was mouthing off to you, it just slipped out!

“Rule two: don’t try to leave the city.” Continued Tsakali.

“Huh?” you asked. That was… a bit of a strange demand.

“Her Highness wants you to enjoy your stay. If you have any ulterior motives for coming to Kyriavalissa, I suggest you postpone them until you have seen all the city has to offer.”

“Very well…” you said.

Tsakali sighed. “I realize that it’s strange to ask that of you, but it’s important to remember. Her Highness is very eager to meet you, and I swear to you that she has your best interests at heart. Those are really the only rules you need to know for now; everything else will be explained to you when we arrive.”

“Is the Pharaoh married?” you blurted out. Normally you would try to finesse an answer out, but that last statement had seemed like an unambiguous promise of rape.

“She is.” Said Tsakali.

You sighed in relief and sat down. Looks like that was just a poor choice of words on her part after all. Tsakali quietly took the seat across from you. Her paws fidgeted as she looked out the window.

“Is something wrong?” you asked.

“Huh?! No! Nothing!” said Tsakali.

“Are you sure? You look troubled…”

“I just get nervous around crowds, that’s all.” Said Tsakali with a forced smile.

You nodded. “I’m not one for ceremonies myself either.”

Something caught your eye out the window. “Look! I think I can see the city!” you said excitedly.

Tsakali looked out the window. “Yes, that’s Kyriavalissa.”

The walls were massive. They were easily more than a hundred feet high. You figured that with sandworms as a staple of armies, having giant walls was the only way to protect your city from being flattened under a fifty meter meat-tube. Beyond that, you could only see a few steeples of what looked like a palace rising over the monumental barrier. A river, that you realized must be the Skotethram, flowed beside the city, surrounded by hundreds of farms. Green grass sprung forth from the fertile floodplains as the brown water surged towards the nearby sea. The first whiff of brine made you nostalgic; how long had it been since you had visited an ocean? You traced the Skotenthram River all the way down to the expansive delta in the distance.

“Those are some big walls!” you said, too amazed to form an actual intelligent statement.

“They certainly are.” Agreed Tsakali.

You looked at her again. Her ears were flat against her head. She was staring intently at the floor.

“Tsakali, are you su-“

“We need to get the carriage ready for arrival. Pack your things up, I’ll take out the windows.” Said Tsakali, interrupting you.
She began to use magic to raise each window one by one. You threw the clothes you had strewn on the bed into your case and tossed your journal inside. Something wasn’t right…

Tsakali folded up the small table between the benches and sat back down. You slowly sat down across from her. Leaning your head out the window, you took a second look at the city.

Now you were close enough to see that the sides of the walls were covered in a massive relief. Even at a great distance, you could make out the rough image of a woman and a snake. No doubt the Pharaoh dueling with her rival. Your mind churned. The sense of danger that had been instilled so thoroughly in you was picking at the back of your head.

“Tsakali, what was the name of that kephri city we stopped at?” you asked.

“Hmm? Oh, it was Skathari.” She said. Her tail was all bushy…

“Huh. I don’t remember seeing it along the road to Kyriavalissa on the map you showed me.” You said.

“I-it was there alright.” She said.

Your heart began to beat faster. The city was getting closer.

“I thought I saw a city named Skathari, but it was farther east. On a road to a different city.” You said.

Tsakali said nothing. You watched her throat jump as she swallowed hard.

“Still nervous?” you asked.

“Yes, crow-“

“Crowds. Right, right." you interrupted. "Then you must have done a lot of practicing, huh? To deliver a perfect speech in Valisias in front of total strangers in a foreign land. You never stuttered once.”

Tsakali’s eyes widened.

You looked back out the window. The wall was almost upon you now. It loomed over you, a bastion that threatened to block out the sky itself. A cavernous gate opened before you, inviting you in. Crowds of monsters thronged the streets. Their excitement could be heard even now, two hundred yards away from the entrance to the city. But you weren’t paying attention to the crowds, or the soldiers, or the majesty of the walls. You were focused on the reliefs.

From a distance, you could tell that it depicted a Pharaoh in mortal combat with an apophis. What you HADN’T been able to see was the outcome of the fight. The pharaoh was reaching up to grapple the snake, her face awash with fear and dismay. The great snake held one of her wrists aside, fangs bared, ready to add to the dripping bitemarks already present in the pharaoh’s shoulder. On the other side of the gate, the pharaoh was wrapped in the coils of the apophis, defeated. The snake-woman held a small sun in the palm of her hand, a full moon shining its own light down from above her head.

“Tsakali…” you began.

She looked at you with a quivering lip.

“…This isn’t Kyriavalissa, is it?”

Her paw shot down to the pommel of her dagger. You tried to stop her hand with magic, but she unsheathed the dagger and lunged at you before you could get the spell off. The blade sunk into your left shoulder, passing all the way through to the fabric of the seat behind you. You screamed as you felt the warm sensation of realm silver sliding through your skin. Channeling all your might into your right hand, you let her have it.

The ensuing blast blew out the entire side of the carriage, sending Tsakali flying. Wood splinters rained down into the sand as Tsakali cartwheeled across the dunes. Idrial stopped carriage and screamed for her to respond, jumping down to find her.

You staggered out of the gaping hole and onto the sand in a daze. Looking down, you saw the mirage-like shimmering air of mana leaking out of the wound Tsakali had inflicted on you. You had minutes, at most, to escape. Soldiers were already wheeling their chariots around. Harpy soldiers on the ramparts took flight after you.

“SEIZE HIM!” screamed Tsakali.

Summoning all the wards you needed to mage jump, you slammed a bolt down onto the invisible seesaw and sent yourself careening away from the carnage. The first jump took you only about fifty yards. The second took you only thirty.

What were you even doing?! This was insane! What would you even do if you escaped these soldiers, wander across an entire desert? Pray you find some random monster out in the desert to drag you back to a more amicable civilization?

Your head swam as the loss of mana took its toll. As you made the last jump, your magic faltered before you could make a proper landing. Your body mercifully landed on the downward side of a sand dune and you rolled to the bottom with minimal injuries. Propping yourself up, you began to crawl away, driven by instinct even as the world began to turn grey.

No use.

You collapsed. The sand was too warm, and you were too tired. The hot dust burned your skin as you lay motionless, covered in grit and too exhausted to move away from the pain. A skittering sound grew louder as something approached you from behind. Whatever it was, you were powerless to stop it.

A girtablilu stepped over you. Her sharp feet bored holes into the sand as her human torso bent to inspect your face. You couldn’t see her face behind the moon-print veil she wore, but you knew that she sneering at you.

“Welcome home, Prince~”