Chapter 6 - Under the Desert Sun
Meanders of the unconscious. Depths of the Landes forest, France. 2009. Four years earlier.
She was running through immense pinewoods, her breath coming in short gasps as branches creaked beneath the sandals she wore. It was not cold, yet she was shivering, both from the chill and from the fear that gripped her. She was confused. Why were they trying to harm her?
She just wanted to help, to rescue someone close to her who had found herself in trouble.
- There is no point in running, you are surrounded! Do not make us run like this.
The female voice, once soft and reassuring, now terrified her. This warm, comforting presence had become much colder and more worrying. Why didn't she understand her?
The girl had done nothing wrong; she had done them no harm. Why were they angry with her?
A slight cry escaped her when a barrier rose violently in front of her, stopping her dead in her tracks and making her groan in pain when she had the misfortune to touch it, for lack of speed.
- I'm sorry, darling, but you're really leaving us no choice," said the gentle voice.
- I do not want to! You have no right to make me. You do not have any rights over me! Exclaimed the young girl whose white toga had been tarnished with dirt from her fall.
- You're too young to know what's good for you," replied a deeper voice. You are not thinking straight, girl. You are under an enchantment, and we are going to get you out of it.
- I do not want you to! The preteen repeated more forcefully. I do not need anyone's help, especially not yours! Let me go, do not force my hand.
A circle of European runes was woven beneath her feet before she could dodge it, freezing her in place. The night was clear and cool, as the two tall figures emerged from the shadows. She had not wanted it to come to this, but she refused to give up her hard-won freedom. A man in his thirties stepped towards her, his brown hair almost veiled by the night sky.
- Forgive us, but you leave us no choice. No one is going to steal my daughter," continued the soft voice behind her back, before tossing to her accomplice. Do it if you have to, but do it fast?
The man approached her, at once so familiar and so detestably foreign, holding a mystical codex in one hand. The girl's pale eyes challenged a similar, sharper gaze, outraged by their betrayal. Her parent's apologetic expression failed to soften her wrath.
- I know you are angry with us, but you will understand later. You will thank us. We will heal you. It hurts us just as much as it hurts you, but for your own good, it is necessary.
Liars! Lies! She wanted to shout at them, but her lips were sealed and her legs felt very heavy now. What right did they have, especially after what they had tried to impose on her, to tell her and judge what was good or bad for her? What did they know about her? She was nothing like the well-behaved little girl who did not dare disobey them.
She wanted to go home, yes, but their home was no longer hers. It was not her home! She had friends, she had a real family, and one she had chosen for herself rather than endured.
Her brother's decisions were not her own. She refused to take the blame. It was not her place to have to suffer his choices and bear the consequences of their incompetence.
"Let me go! Let go of me! Get out of my sight! By all the gods, leave us alone!"
Alas, her thoughts remained trapped in her psyche, as her lips would not move. Her panic only grew as she sensed her sudden solitude, even within her own mind. She struggled even more furiously, unable to use her now hobbled magical circuits.
She felt a hand on her skull and the magic concentrated there as her father recited an incantation in Hebrew. Her mother held the circle of runes in place.
Nothing answered her sense of injustice, frustration, powerlessness and profound loneliness.
Lands of the Spirits. Middle East, Mesopotamia. Kingdoms of Sumer. Oasis. Present time. 2014.
- Adelaide? Hey, french girl! Something is wrong. Wake up, damn it!
The sudden, urgent voice snapped her out of her nightmares, and her mind readily grasped this outstretched hand to the present moment, all the more so as she vaguely detected the urgency that characterized it. Something, or rather someone, was shaking her vigorously on the shoulder, which her badly awakened mind interpreted as an extension of her bad dream. She struggled fiercely and tried to escape his grip, but whoever was holding her would not let go.
- Calm down! Calm down! It is I, Waver. It is just the plain old me. Is your memory that short?
She could not have imagined the mix of English and French, nor the timbre of his voice. Feeling extremely exhausted and still crushed by the lingering overtones of a migraine, Adelaide let out a few grumbles before nodding for several minutes. Finally, she repositioned herself on her back, before her eyelids deigned to half-open. Her pale eyes crinkled in the intense beam of light, while her eyelids fluttered. A warm, dry breeze danced through the broad leaves of the tree under whose shade they stood, which occasionally let through the ray of a fiery, merciless sun. Placing an arm in front of her irritated eyes, the teenager asked in a voice hoarser than she had imagined.
- Where are we now?
- I do not know, but clearly not, where we should be.
- I do not know! Exclaimed Adelaide, perplexed.
The remark had the merit of making her straighten up in one go, before a slight dizziness made her change her mind and keep herself in a semi-recumbent, semi-seated position, legs stretched out. A glance at her surroundings quickly made her realize that they were in a small green setting in the middle of the desert, an oasis to be exact, at the heart of which flowed the source of a tiny lake. The expanse of desert was so vast that mountain ranges could barely be made out on the distant horizon. No other watercourse could be discerned on the horizon, be it an ocean, a river or even a simple stream. While sand largely dominated the spaces around them, there were occasional glimpses of the rare grasses and shrubs that managed to grow in the arid, and in places rocky, surroundings. The heat was barely bearable under the shade of the oasis, and Adelaide did not want to imagine the blazing sun that awaited them. Yet, for some obscure reason, the young girl was not too worried about the landscape.
- I didn't know Macedonia was so barren... is it because of the Flood? Asked the intrigued Frenchwoman, her voice both light and somewhat serious.
- No, it is clearly not Macedonia, where we should have landed. How did you know? Waver replied, somewhat dry and tense as he observed their surroundings.
- I may have amnesia, but I am not completely uneducated, I will have you know! The conquests of Alexander the Great were part of the preparatory curriculum for entry to the Eleanor Institute.
- The Eleanor Institute? I have never heard of it. Is it French? Is it in Paris? Waver commented
- No, it is in Bordeaux. It is a preparatory institute for entry to the Academia des Mages in Paris. The school's name comes from the great Eleanor of Aquitaine. Not everything happens in Paris, you know.
- Moues. Internationally, it is mostly the Academia de Paris that people talk about. I have never heard of a certain "Aliénor" school in the Clock Tower. Waver grumbled.
- You studied at the Clock Tower. Adelaide asked curiously, cooling off.
Only silence answered her question, as Waver did not seem inclined to elaborate. The Frenchwoman then thought back to the few things the Briton had told her before, grudgingly, namely the authorities were pursuing that he and that it was not just because of his involvement with Rider. Had something happened at the Clock Tower?
Instead, he obviously preferred to change the subject as he spoke again before she could.
- Well, we are clearly not in Macedonia, let alone Pella, where we should have been.
- But we did go through the portal, and it feels different from when you took us to London. This is not the first time you have travelled like this, so you must have calibrated it well.
- Of course I calibrated it right! Who do you think I am? Exclaimed Waver, his arms crossed.
- That means we should have arrived in the Spirit Lands, but something disrupted your portal and landed us here. Since the Spirit World mirrors our own, we can narrow down the number of places that might correspond to it, via their topography and climate. There is a possible margin of error with regard to the evolution of the terrain over the centuries, given that we do not know the era on which the place we are in is based, but it is better than nothing is.
Adelaide was, of course, nervous too, but she was doing her best not to panic and to force her mind back to factual elements and the knowledge she had. Alongside his activities as a designer of magic stones, her father had been an archaeologist for some time, and a keen student of history, geography and geology. He had tried to pass on some of his knowledge to her, since she was far more interested in it than her brother Tomas, who was more intrigued by stonework and horse breeding than history. Considering everything she had forgotten, clinging to what she knew reassured her somewhat. Besides, Waver struck her as someone who liked logic, so this would ease tensions.
- I will exclude Antarctica for obvious reasons, as well as North and South America for the time being, as they do not correspond to the photographs I have seen in my father's atlases. That leaves Australia, Africa, the Middle East and the Orient. We could try exploring the surrounding area to find out more about the local flora and fauna, but that would be risky. We are ill equipped, and from what little I know of the spirit world, there are monsters on the prowl. Especially if we are in times as remote as the Ancient Age or the Mythical Age.
Waver watched him quietly; very attentive and not letting on what he was thinking. Yes, Antarctica and the Arctic could be ruled out for the time being, given the sandy desert that surrounded them rather than a desert of snow or a grassy expanse, complete with plants and flowers. Alas, she was not in a position to decide between the other four possibilities until they somehow stumbled upon a town or village, where the architecture, farming techniques, artisanship and cuisine, as well as the clothing of the inhabitants, could tell them something.
- You seem to know more about it than I thought. Waver commented suspiciously.
- My father is a magic stone artisan and ex-amateur archaeologist, so yes; he did pass on a bit of information about the history of humankind and the history of mages. Which goes to show that human sciences and anthropology can sometimes come in handy! I was thinking of going into this field. I am much more confident when I am dealing with something I know well!
- So you are going to be more useful than I thought. Retorted the Englishman, deadpan.
- I will take that as a compliment. Retorted the young girl with good humor.
- Anyways, let us be pragmatic. If we set foot in there, we will not last long. We do not have enough water to stock up on; we do not know where we are exactly, so we do not know how far it is to the next town, if there is one, or in which direction to head. We did not take enough food with us, and I doubt we will get enough with what is here.
- And do not forget hyperthermia and hypothermia. My father used to tell me that the desert is very hot during the day but very cold in the evening. We have enough to cover our heads to avoid sunstroke, but we would need a suitable mount to make the crossing easier, like an Arabian horse, a dromedary or a camel. Which we clearly do not have on site. In addition, apart from our rudimentary skills in magic, we have nothing to defend ourselves against wildlife, potential monsters or brigands we might encounter. In addition, let us not forget that the desert generally does not have many watering holes, and that is likely to attract wildlife and monsters in the medium to long term. As much as I would like to go exploring, the wisest thing to do would be to retrace our steps. Can you build us another portal? Adelaide completed, turning to him.
- Don't you think I would have done it by now if I had? Waver replied, raising an eyebrow before adding - I am tired; the process requires a lot of energy and concentration. You have to have a very precise idea of where you want to go, where you are starting from and the associated arrival portal. In addition, even if I were fit and rested, we would still be stuck here.
- Why would we be stuck here? Asked Adelaide.
The Briton gave her a frustrated look, before adding in a matter-of-fact tone:
- We need the permission of the ruler of the region, both to enter and to leave his kingdom. Literally, we are dependent on the ruler's goodwill if we want to get in.
Ah, that did complicate things. Without having to ask him, Adelaide understood why he had originally wanted to take them to Macedonia and Pella in particular. The territory was to be administered by Iskandar and so, as Alexander the Great's assistant, Waver had his tacit agreement to come and go on Macedonian territory. This would indeed have been the safest option. As Pella was supposed to be the capital of the aforementioned kingdom, she could understand his surprise when they landed in the middle of the desert. The topography must not have been the same.
- I do not suppose Macedonia is quite the same as a large desert.
- That is right. Pella is built on the island of Pharos, in the east of Greece if you like, on a promontory overlooking the marshes surrounding the capital to the south, and further out a lake opening onto the sea as it was in Hellenistic times. Waver replied, slumping tiredly against a tree.
Adelaide listened attentively as they both rested and recovered from the day's emotions. He told her about Pella, the capital city of the kingdom of Macedonia ruled by the King of Conquerors. He described the city, fortified by vast ramparts of stone and mud brick, and the three hills of which it was composed, including the central one where the imperial palace, Aigéai, had been built, with its considerable proportions reminding us of its various functions: a royal residence, a monument of pageantry, and a place of government where much of the kingdom's administration was located. The Frenchwoman nodded silently in thought. The architectural organization reminded her, somehow, of other places of power that she was unable to locate. He also described the city of Pella itself, its baths, port and famous agora. Even if he did not give the impression of it, the British man clearly knew his subject and was involved with a certain passion in his duties and in the service of the king who had won his respect. As much by way of encouragement as conviction, the Frenchwoman spoke again with assurance.
- We will find someone who can help us.
- I admire your optimism, as long as it does not turn into sheer recklessness. Waver retorted, one eye open.
- Watering holes are rare in the deserts, and so are favorite stops for the caravans of itinerant merchants. As long as we do not run into any monsters, we will be fine.
- There is no shortage of that in mana-rich places like the Spirit Lands... I am used to it, but this one looks particularly saturated. It is giving me a headache. Make sure you do not use too much magic. You will wear yourself out and the bugs will fry us.
Adelaide merely nodded to indicate that she had heard him, one hand resting on the sandy surface of the oasis where endemic flora was growing with difficulty. Sand... she closed her eyes and awakened some of the few magical circuits she was able to use. Her affinity with the terrestrial element enabled her to bind herself to the grains of sand without great difficulty, and, her sight thus impeded, she concentrated her senses on the Tellumancie arts she knew. Her perceptions could hardly extend far, due to her capricious magical circuits, but she could probe a couple of hundred meters in their immediate vicinity. This connection with the Earth helped her to perceive the presences treading the desert within this perimeter, as she sought to sense the approach of both hostile entities and would-be travelers. No doubt, she would not be able to detect flying monsters, but she counted on Waver to keep an eye out for them, while she would be very vigilant for any presence moving along the ground in their direction.
The earth never lied, at least not to her. They were saved, she was convinced.
Lands of the Spirits. Middle East, Mesopotamia. Kingdoms of Sumer. 2014. Desert. Shortly thereafter.
Waver's initial fears and misgivings proved unfounded, just as Adelaide's temporarily acquired senses via her synergy with the earth element had not been mistaken. It was indeed a large caravan, consisting of a dozen carts that had approached them. The group was solidly protected by a small escort of a dozen soldiers riding camels or Arabian horses, renowned for their endurance in the desert. Some of the warriors were nevertheless wounded, as the bandages under their clothes revealed. Suspicious at first, the guards had instructed the mysterious passengers to stay in the carts and held them at gunpoint with lances - copper, if Adelaide was to believe the color of the weapons' metal - while the fighters also carried swords, maces, clubs, socket axes and sickles with them. The language they used sounded familiar to Adelaide, even if they spoke too fast for her amnesia-drowsy mind to hear properly. Waver held one of his hands slightly back and his fist closed, ready to defend their skins dearly. Movement seemed to rattle the caravan's best-protected convoy as a shadow moved inside and a guard approached the car.
He remained there for a few minutes before returning to them, looking fierce and wary, and beckoning them to get in. Throughout their journey, the two young men remained under the watchful eye of the soldiers, and an infantryman had clearly been placed in the vehicle to protect its occupants... or in this case, an occupant. They were summoned to take their seats, the door closing behind them as a clear voice called out to them in a tone that sounded polite, affable and cheerful all at once.
- The gods were with you, travelers! There are few oases in the desert, and with the borders partly closed, there is little foreign trade now.
A gentle smile on her lips, a benevolent face still endowed with the curves of adolescent spring, watched them attentively. The girl, who seemed a little shorter and a little younger than them - if her voice was anything to go by -, was clad in a long, sober azure-blue dress that stretched from the base of her bust to just above her ankles. Where her right shoulder and arm were bare, her left shoulder and arm were covered by the dress's single, long sleeve above the wrist. A slightly darker blue belt, supported by a band of gold fabric and a long lace the color of a setting sun, held her dress together. Gold earrings adorned her ears, like creoles, while a gold necklace embellished her neck and a pair of gold bracelets hung around each of her wrists. To protect her from the scorching desert sun, a veil covered the top of her head, the nape of her neck and the entire length of her back. Her black hair had been tied back in a high ponytail, giving her an uncluttered forehead. Her tanned skin emphasized the intense emerald glow of magnificent green eyes. Her smile was infectious, so Adelaide gratefully replied as she removed her improvised veil.
- Thank you so much for your help! Without you, we would have been stuck here for a long time.
It was with relief that the Frenchwoman let her auburn hair breathe; taking advantage of the shade provided by the vehicle, they were in. It was then that she noticed that their interlocutor was flushed with surprise, betrayed by both her features and her gaze. Perplexed and nervous at his silence, the Frenchwoman was looking for a way to restart the discussion when the young girl suddenly leaned towards her, her green eyes shining and her trembling hands clasping hers. Before Fleury could say anything, the teenager spoke again, very moved.
- This isn't a mirage, is it? No, you are here. You are real. It is you, Adela!
"Adila? The name resonated with the tinkling of a friendly bell, ringing sweetly from the depths of her damaged memory. It tinkled with the warmth of familiarity, deep in the darkness of her stolen past. It had escaped the immaterial lips of this dream friend who haunted her dreams, who pressed her hands between his, this being with a face that still eluded her. Confused, Adelaide watched Waver out of the corner of her eye for help or advice, but his face was closed, his arms crossed. He had not yet spoken, which surprised her. She did not have time to dwell on it, however, as the young girl pressed her hands between his.
- I knew you would come back! I knew you would never abandon us. Where have you been? What has happened? We have been so worried about you. He is looking for you everywhere!
- I...
Adelaide did not know what to say. The young stranger seemed so sure of herself, and honestly worried, leaving behind any formal attitude she might have had before. Part of her hoped that the girl had the right person, and that they were finally on the right track to finding the memories that had been stolen from her, and the Spirit to whom she was linked.
- I am Aïcha! You have not forgotten me, have you? You seem strange. What has happened to you?
- I am sorry, Aisha. I cannot remember anything before the last two years, apart from vague dreams. I do not know what happened, but I have been in the human world for at least two years. My friend here, Waver, seems to think I am in the service of a Spirit, and that my amnesia is not of natural origin.
Adelaide turned to him, increasingly surprised that he had remained so silent all this time. It was very unlike him, from what she could tell. The girl named Aïcha then turned her intense green eyes on the Briton, who, with arms still crossed and an eyebrow raised, commented with a certain sarcastic annoyance in his calm voice.
- I am just waiting to be able to understand two treacherous words of what you are talking about.
- What are you talking about? We were speaking in English, weren't we? Adelaide asked, not understanding.
- No, it is not. I do not know what language you were using, but you can be sure it is not English, French, Japanese or ancient Greek. Waver retorted.
- You... you know that many languages. Fleury commented, clearly astonished.
- English is my mother tongue, but I know ancient Greek well and I get by in Japanese and French. That is the minimum I need to serve my king.
- Gee, what language was I speaking? Wondered Adelaide, increasingly confused.
It made sense, the Frenchwoman thought to herself. He had told her he was in the service of Iskandar, so it made sense that he would be a polyglot if he were directly in the service of the King of Conquerors. Nevertheless, this gave her a clue as to the functions he performed, or at least part of them: did he also deal in some way with diplomacy? It was logical that, in addition to English, he also spoke ancient Greek, no doubt de rigueur in the Macedonia of the Spirit Lands. French had long been known as the language of diplomacy, closely followed by English, and Japanese remained a language also widely spoken in the international exchanges of the last decade. Imperturbable though clearly intrigued, young Aïcha replied in rough English.
- You were speaking to me in the Sumerian language, which is what we use around here! Apart from that, I have a good command of Arabic, I understand English even if I do not speak it very well, and I know a little French. Our king wants us priestesses to know other languages too. In fact, it was you, Adila, who taught me the basics of French, among other things!
- Did... did I do that? Adelaide asked, perplexed.
- Yes! You taught us many things, both at the palace and in the great temple.
- If Adelaide is indeed this "Adila" you speak of. Waver commented cautiously.
- I know she is! Protested the young Aïcha before continuing - In addition to your flaming hair, I know that you bear the seal of the pact that binds you to our king, and that it stretches the length of your back. In addition, if you need any further proof, just pull out the Key!
- Key? What key? Asked Waver, looking clearly circumspect.
His friend turned to Fleury, intrigued, who had frozen at the mention of the term key and one of whose hands had slipped under her collar. The Frenchwoman hesitated for a few moments, under the joint gazes of the Briton and the Sumerian, before pulling her hand out from under her collar. Her fingers were closed on her palm, revealing only a chain of pure gold. She finally unfolded them to reveal what lay on her palm: a strange key-shaped pendant. Forged of pure gold, its handle was grooved to what looked like a hilt, and its gold tip was chiseled in curious patterns whose meaning escaped her. In as calm a voice as she could manage, trying not to show her hope, Adelaide asked Aïcha.
- Is this the famous "Key" you are talking about? It looks a bit small to me, though.
- I knew it would be! Replied the young priestess enthusiastically, before continuing - I knew you would keep it with you. Oh, the King is going to be so happy! He entrusted her to you personally. You should not be fooled by its size. It is a very, very important artefact!
- Are you sure? Someone could have found it, my father for instance, and then given it to me. He is an archaeologist, after all. Even so, why would the King entrust something so precious to a mere mortal? Adelaide asked, confused.
- Because he trusts you, of course! Besides, no one can have an object from His collections without His approval, especially not grave robbers. Aïcha replied in a confident tone, before turning to waver and adding: "You want proof? Very well, then! Try grabbing the Key from Adela's hand, if you dare!
The little priestess was not too pleased with Waver's circumspect expression. The Briton cast a wary glance at the item, in whom he did not seem to have much confidence. Nevertheless, no doubt overtaken by curiosity, the magician reached out his hand towards the Frenchwoman's open palm, who was fighting a violent instinct to pull the item away. No sooner had Velvet's fingers grazed the cold metal of the artefact than it vanished in a bright golden flash, before reappearing of its own accord around Adelaide's neck, where it had been resting innocently. With a satisfied smile on her lips, the little priestess leaned towards the Frenchwoman and tried her hand at the artefact. Once again, it stubbornly evaded her grasp, only to reappear against the Frenchwoman's bust.
- See? Moreover, here again, you are in luck! As this is the first time, the Key simply disappeared and returned to its rightful guardian. If you had tried to take it again, you would have incurred the King's wrath through the Key, and been immediately burned alive. As this is mythical magic, nothing can block the mechanism created by our King himself. The King is very protective of his people, and very possessive of everything that belongs to him. Asserted the young priestess with aplomb, smiling with satisfaction at having been right.
- You could have warned me I was going to burn alive! Honestly... and wait a minute, you mean these Spirit Lands are ruled by the Mythic Age? Waver grumbled, disgruntled, before asking more hastily than he had probably intended.
- Yes, they are! The gods still walk these lands, and so do the monsters. You have both been very lucky! Even for seasoned warriors and mages, monsters are no less deadly. Only the gods, our kings and one person can easily repel monsters. Replied Aïcha, in a tone of the obvious.
- Our Kings? Remarked Adelaide, intrigued by the mention.
- Yes, we have two kings who share power. Replied the young Aïcha cheerfully.
The young priestess immediately set about explaining how the Double Crown of Sumer worked. The Southern Kingdom, in which they now found themselves, had Uric as its capital, while the Northern Kingdom, from which the priestess came, had Babylon as its mother city. Both the other spirit nations and the lands of the magi regarded the two kingdoms as a single government, so closely did the two rulers work together. According to Aïcha, it was not uncommon for them to take turns attending major meetings between the rulers of the Spirit Lands, or even with representatives of the mages, since they felt that their interlocutors were not worth the trouble of both of them attending. The girl referred to them by two nicknames, "The Young King" and "The Wise King", but refused to tell them their names just yet. Whenever they tried to find out more, the priestess would simply smile innocently and let herself be lulled by the rhythm of the cart. Waver was not too happy not to have more information, while Adelaide asked curiously.
- Tell me; is it common in this world for a nation to have several leaders?
- It is unusual, but it happens. This does not prevent them from going to war with each other from time to time, but they do agree enough to send one of them, in turn, to represent the interests of their kingdoms at international meetings, after a round-table discussion between them. Take, for example, the case of the Five Romans and the Greek Kingdoms.
With great curiosity, Fleury listened attentively as he mentioned the situation of the Kingdoms of Quintinus, shaped according to ancient times, and ruled by no less than five rulers whose personalities varied as much as their Berserker, Saber, Lancer and Ruler classes. He also mentioned the case of the Greek Kingdoms, divided into six crowns with tumultuous alliances. Finally, the young Briton who had become his friend presented him with the case of the Land of the Spirits, rooted in the legends of Great Britain, which was split into two kingdoms hostile to each other: Camelot on one side, land of humans, and Albion on the other, land of fairies.
These were by no means the only examples, but the British man did not wish to dwell on the subject, which he expressed by turning his head away and closing his eyes, even though his back still remained tense. Adelaide remained silent and turned her gaze to the light-colored drapes that shielded their eyes from the incendiary glare of the desert sun. "Adila"... why did this name sound so familiar?
Who was she, the person she had been before her memories were torn from her?
Lands of the Spirits. Middle East, Mesopotamia. Kingdoms of Sumer. Uruk. A few days later. Twilight.
Adelaide had not seen the days go by throughout the desert crossing, which they now knew to be in Mesopotamia, in the Middle East. When she was not chatting to waver in English or Aisha in Sumerian in the car they were in, the girl was reflecting on what they had learned from the young priestess. The caravan that had joined them was mostly made up of merchants who had come to sell their wares and buy others in the capital of Uruk, to join the great market that was held there every morning during the mild hours. Aisha, for her part, was a minor priestess in the service of the "Young King", who travelled to Uruk from Babylon to obtain an audience with the "Wise King" on behalf of her sovereign. According to her, she was the deputy to the "Young King's" main assistant, whom she was currently replacing. The two teenagers decided, at the first supper shared with the caravan members, to offer and open a good bottle of wine from Waver's belongings. The bottle, of a good vintage, was part of the stock destined for Iskandar, but they would buy one back from Uruk to compensate for the gift of this one. The gesture of thanks was appreciated by the travelers, in particular the guards accompanying them and the merchants, and opened the exchanges first in Sumerian, then in English so that Waver could be included in the discussions. They were mostly natives of the region, even if they came from different Sumerian cities, and roamed the double-kingdom along its trade routes, paths and paths they knew well.
More than banditry, which was severely punished by the two kings' armies, the main living threat on these long journeys were the monsters that swarmed the region outside the cities. Most of them were endemic to the two kingdoms, such as the "lion-dog", a monstrous hybrid between canid and feline, with immense sharp teeth, razor-sharp claws and a devastating breath of fire, distinguished by its crimson coat dotted with lighter red symbols, its abundant tail and its ochre-yellow mane. The locals called him 'Uridimmu'. They also told them about 'Mušḫuššu', or the 'terrifying snake', a reptilian quadruped with solid, dark-blue scales, streaked with brown on its belly and the underside of its huge, poisonous tail, whose venom could prove fatal if an antidote wasn't administered quickly. They also mentioned the threat posed by what they called an "Ušumgallu", or "Vicious Water Snake", a hybrid between a quadruped and a reptile, whose howls petrified its unfortunate prey, then tore them to pieces by its implacable claws and fangs. When they mentioned the presence of "Wind blade" insects, stone golems, killer ghosts, dragons, hermit crabs and demonic boars, Waver easily recognized the creatures and revealed to Adelaide that these creatures were also found in the kingdom to which he was attached, and that they were quite common within the Spirit Worlds. They came across several of these charming creatures on their journey across the desert and, unwilling to be a burden on the caravan - despite Waver's reluctance to expose them to so much danger - they did their best to defend the vehicles and their passengers from the monstrosities, assisting the guards with the Frenchwoman's geomancy and the Briton's thaumaturgy. Their help, albeit modest, won them the appreciation of the guards protecting the convoy, and helped them integrate into the small community of travelers.
Adelaide often regretted not being able to do more. She could only call on her magical circuits sporadically and for a very limited period, and for a very limited purpose too. Even Waver, who, according to the principal concerned, was not a particularly talented magician, managed to make better use of them than she did. She felt, however, that her new friend's lack of pure magical power was more than made up for by his intelligence and keen thinking skills. He often grumbled, regularly complained, but was endowed with a good tactical sense, which, based on his knowledge and observations, adapted quite easily to different situations.
- We are almost at Uruk! Aïcha declared cheerfully, nodding mischievously as she invited them to look out through one of the embrasures at the landscape around them.
Adelaide was quick to respond and, pushing back the canvas covering the opening and holding it in place with one hand, the Frenchwoman gazed at the landscape before them. The desert had gradually given way to plains that were beginning to turn green, and vegetation was becoming present. Before his amazed eyes, a gigantic city was revealed in all its formidable majesty, solidly defended by immense, thick stalls of a slightly ochre-colored whiteness. The city, bathed in the orange glow of a superb twilight, seemed to extend over several leagues, and was lined with innumerable light-colored buildings that surrounded a building even more imposing, immense and majestic than the others did, which towered over the capital. The term "Ziggurat" immediately came to mind as the young girl watched it intently. Fleury's clear eyes then landed on the imposing gates they were heading towards, surrounded by two colossal azure-blue columns, and magnificently adorned with faunal paintings whose gold paint left no doubt as to the purity of the molten metal that had been used. Fascinated by all this architectural beauty, Adelaide only came back to her senses when Waver, whose presence she hadn't noticed behind her and who had also been observing the surroundings, gently but firmly grabbed her by the arm and invited her to return to the shadow of their wagon. The caravan came to a halt some fifteen minutes later, under the massive shade of the sumptuous gates.
- This is where we get off! We will leave the caravan as soon as the controls are completed.
Aïcha explained in English, with the enthusiasm of youth mixed with the serenity of a regular.
- Okay, but for our participation, how much do we have to..., began Adelaide.
- We will take care of that. I am always careful, always keeping a reserve fund just in case. You never know what might happen. Interrupted the priestess, calmly.
- That is generous of you. Are you sure, you don't want us to compensate you? Waver asked.
- Quite sure. I could not see myself abandoning you in the desert, especially since you brought us Adila, Sir Velvet. It is the least I can do. Replied Aïcha.
The bodyguard, who had remained silent throughout the journey, nodded respectfully and indicated that the two teenagers should get out first. The driver helped them out one after the other, and they could not help but stretch happily once their feet were on the ground after a long journey of several hours, tossed about by the bumps of the wild trails. Numerous soldiers were inspecting the vehicles, cargo and passengers in the caravan's various carts. Five of them approached their carts as young Aïcha and her protector, Amal, disembarked. Each was armed with a spear and a large, round, copper-tinted shield, as well as a sword of the same hue at his belt. They were clad in a dark green tunic edged in golden yellow, adorned with two strips of cloth of the same complexion crossed in the shape of an "X" across their torsos and held together by a small copper disk. Their skin tone, Adelaide quickly noted, was predominantly tan, but many of the soldiers also had lighter, darker or even more coppery complexions. Although they were in a spiritual world rooted in Eastern mythical culture, the young girl remarked that this tended to reveal a certain ethnic mix among the soldiers, and hence no doubt also among the inhabitants. A soldier whose features suggested Arab origins was eyeing the two Caucasian teenagers warily, before turning to one of his counterparts and nodding to him to look after them. The man, with paler skin and short dark-brown hair, turned his dark eyes towards them and approached with a cordial smile. Before Waver could point out that, he did not understand either Arabic or Sumerian, the young guard in his thirties spoke with aplomb in crystal-clear English.
- Welcome, travelers! I am Ilias, soldier of the Uruk City Guard. As such, we ask you to state your identity and the reason for your visit.
Waver took the lead, stepping forward to stand between the guards and the young Frenchwoman.
- Bonjour Ilias, messieurs. I am Waver and she is Adelaide, travelers. We got lost in the desert while traveling, and were rescued by the members of the caravan here and the priestess Aïcha, who was kind enough to lead us here.
- Good day to you all. Fleury gladly replied, making sure to be polite.
The young woman gladly let the Briton take the initiative, not knowing what information she could give them, or what was best kept under wraps for the time being. Once again, she was surprised by the contrast between his behavior in private and his attitude in public. Here, the Englishman was unusually cordial, far removed from his well-known sarcasm, and displayed more self-confidence than he had previously shown her. That said, if she watched closely, she could see the cracks in the invisible mask he was wearing, he was making an effort and, perhaps instinctively, he was draping himself in the persona expected of him for his duties with Rider. The Frenchwoman observed the particular care with which he seemed to choose his words, yet with impeccable fluidity in order to conceal him with uncommon skill. Technically, everything he had said was true. They could be considered travelers, theoretically speaking, without arousing any more suspicion than necessary by revealing that they were foreign mages, one of whom held an important position with a Spirit of another nation. It was clever, Fleury thought. They were on the move, and for sure, they were quite lost then. The rest was strictly true and easily verified with the merchants and the priestess. He was impressed by her ability to improvise in potentially tricky situations, glossing over all the potentially embarrassing points in the eyes of the controls, including the use of a transport portal. The guard stared at the Briton and the Frenchwoman suspiciously. Before he could add anything, however, the priestess Aïcha had stepped forward with her bodyguard.
- I am Aisha, priestess of Babylon and emissary of the Young King. I confirm to you the uprightness of their word. In the name of Anu, I vouch for them. They are my companions.
Her intervention was, once again, salutary, for the guards bowed to her authority, which they did not question. Adelaide thought inwardly that people placed in the service of a King Spirit were endowed with real influence in these societies parallel to their own, and seemed to occupy a certain social rank and respectability. She could not dwell on this, however, as Aïcha grabbed their hands and led them briskly along, passing under the archway of the azure gates.
Adelaide had not the slightest idea of what awaited them within the walls of dazzling Uruk, nor of the welcome would they receive from the enigmatic King-Spirit who reigned supreme.