“
This creed of the desert seemed inexpressible in words, and indeed in thought.
T. E. Lawrence
Some seek it out, others stumble upon it. But what is known without a doubt is that it is never he who enters that has made it to be so. For within lie the answers to all of one's mysteries - even those that are tied far beyond one's own reach.
Amol-Kalit
Road to Ragash
Through the thin line in his head wrap, thirsty eyes drank in the scope of all that he saw. An endless arrangement of long winding dunes backed by a clear blue sky - and the sun blazed above. Wind ravaged the caravan that travelled from Annuakat to Ragash. Salitra was now well in hand, and Ashuanar had felt it acceptable to leave some of his most trusted captains there in his stead for the time being. There was another matter that simply required his attention. Veiled under an exaggerated claim of increased skirmishing along the farthest borders of Ragash, he departed for the eastern city. A large caravan of soldiers, carriage and nobles filed evenly down a singular trail through the desert - their way unmarked, but well known.
In truth, well beyond Ragash was the city of Maraan. It was without doubt a particular individual had been spotted there - his sister. Iesha. Unbound for what he'd heard, which had done nothing other than make him ecstatic - that she too had escaped her slavery and been granted freedom!
A rider came up alongside him. Nak'Ehim.
"Vizier, all is prepared for a hasty departure. Two dozen of our finest warriors are aware of their appointments, and their secrecy is assured."
"Excellent, Nak'Ehim. I expect you to be ready as well. We will need to de-"
"Me, Vizier? But I thought you would have me remain behind - in the event your presence is required. I could speak for you..."
Ashuanar's eyes drifted off for a moment and he considered it. He really did prefer to have a mage of his talents in his corner should things go astray on the road to Maraan. He looked to his left forearm. Beneath the white cloth: the Band of Serqet. Perhaps with all it gave unto him he would be just as well without Nak'Ehim's sometimes irritating tone with him. Still... he found it odd that Nak'Ehim was so eager to part ways at this juncture. He'd always seemed quite content to keep himself tucked very closely to him.
Quite odd indeed.
"Very well. Perhaps that is for the best. It would be prudent for someone to be present should the need arise... ah!"
There, the city began to come into view.
City of Ragash
Following day
Ashuanar walked about the city. He'd not been here since just after the lord's Coronation. Due to the Eternum's attack, the city had been left in an ill state. Though any signs of this event were long since gone, and for anyone who was not present on that day it would seem as though maybe it had never transpired at all. A myth. Still, he was as impressed by the grandeur of this city as he had been on his first coming here. The enormous domes of the palace dominated the skyline, a daunting sight when he was reminded of falling from the back of the dragon high above... had he not landed on... that building, there... well he would likely have never survived.
He toured the city's streets for a time, recalling what he could from that day, before venturing to the Madrassa of War. He toured it, as well. He'd taken an interest in the salvation of these young orphans. Though they were not his responsibility, he was pleased to see they were well tended to - and well trained. Shortly after a passive inspection of the grounds, he departed and made way for the Palace where he found himself within the immaculate walls of the Room of the Golden Pond. He stood over it, gazing deeply into the waters in contemplation.
He'd sent word to courtier Medja upon his arrival in the city that he had arrived on an errand for the Empire, and that he would speak with her in person if time permitted. Though in truth, there were far more personal things he intended to discuss with her, and a troubling on his mind.