For the first time Sha’Raph’s heart didn’t feel joy as the ashen wastes laid across before her.

  The night had conquered the sky and the egg was judging from above, resting among a sea of a thousand stars. The winds were low that day and the ashen storms but small waves of grey that wandered the dunes.

  Sir Raimond was still with her on Dustfang. He seemed lost after the battle and so she took him along. But it wasn’t just for the good of her heart. But answers. By now he suspected the truth behind her mask, it was hard to deny, yet she would need to find out herself. Watching the stars above, he whispered a prayer to them. The battle was over and justice delivered. At least here. At least for now. Back home Aurellian and his order of Magisters still lingered. An enemy so distant to reach, and yet so clear in his mind. Maybe the republic would start to see the truth if he brought news from these lands. Maybe they would understand the truth behind the sorcery. Yet it was all but distant dreams. He was but a knight without a house, journeying lands unknown.

  “What will..do, when done?” Sha’Raph asked him as she guided Dustfang over the ashen lands she called home.

  He sighed and looked around. “I need to find a way back.” He answered. It seemed so foolish but it was his duty. “Across the storms and the ocean, until I see the towers of my home again.”

  A moment of silence crossed the desert before she broke it once more. “Heard tales about…far west.” She said. Her accent was still thick with orcish grunts, yet it seemed to soften the more he spoke to her. “Tales of Shamans in pointy hats. And warriors wearing silver.” She looked back at him and his armour. “Not silver.”

  He chuckled. “Not anymore. But I assure you it once carried a shine, and should I clean it, it may once more.”

  She answered his chuckle with a hidden smile beneath her mask and looked ahead to the grey desert again. The obsidian spires rose from the dunes. Some half buried beneath mountains of ash, others plain and open. Many of them carried the colours of a shaman. The tales of the dead, even if only in the strangest of shapes.

  Sir Raimond moved forward on Dustfang. “What are these things?” He asked and pointed down at the spires.

  “Fangs of the dead.” She told him. “They gather ancestors ash…and shamans paint their stories.”

  His mind was reeling. This was far from the first time he had seen such spires, even though back home no one would ever dare and touch or even paint them.

  “Are there more sorcerers in your lands?” he asked her distantly.

  She raised a hidden brow. “No?” It was a question not an answer. “Ogre Mother was not of our land..” She declared. “And hunt king of the south.”

  “And the Dragon?” He asked darkly.

  “Dragon is master..” She said, yet there was no determination in her voice. She remembered the grandest of all the beasts below Karn’Arak. Its sickness, its rot and its fear. And she remembered how it was flying away from the battle, even worse than before. Tired and broken, like a simple warrior. Seeking its end. “Its…ill..” She said.

  He nodded while the horror of truth was slowly building inside him. He knew these spires were far from natural and he knew their use. Yet he could only speculate as to whom it would serve.

  While his mind spun around, Sha’Raph’s eyes squinted the horizon.

  There, in the far distance a campfire was seen. Two figures stood guard around it. They carried spears of chetin yet cloth of darkness. On their heads they wore masks not unlike Sha’Raphs yet theirs only covered the upper half of their faces. The lower half showed their tusks in pride. Pierced and like a shaman carrying chains from it to their nose and ears. Even carvings were forced into their tusks, showing the same strange symbols as the spires.

  “Here…” She whispered. There was an uneasiness in her voice and Raimond could see how she took a long heavy breath. Then she guided Dustfang down.

  The two figures at the cave entrance looked up at the grand desert Wyvern yet didn’t move. With a crash and rising ash he landed.

  Quickly she jumped down and walked at the entrance. Without a word she pressed her fist against her chest.

  “Watcher.” One of the two guards said while both answered her gesture. Behind her Sir Raimond came down from Dustfang and slowly walked close. It made the guards ready their chitin spears.

  Sha’Raph shook her head. “He is an ally.” She declared. The guards shared a look through their masks and lowered their weapons. Yet it was clear they remained tense.

  She didn’t care. “Where is Master Kru’Gan? I need word with him.”

  “I fear he is meditating.” One guard said.

  “Nice word for sleeping! Ha!” The other answered and both laughed.

  Sir Raimond smirked. Once more he didn’t need to understand their tongue to know he had been on the same duty as them before.

  Sha’Raph didn’t show any sign of a smile or laughter. Neither above nor below her mask. “Where?” They stopped laughing as they heard the watchers' words. Despite the immense size difference a hint of fear was seen around their mouths at their watcher’s cold words.

  One of them composed himself before the other did. “Deeper inside, I could show you. But that thing.” He pointed at Raimond. “I will not let that take a foot into the caves.”

  She nodded and looked back at Raimond. “I understand.” She responded. “Then you will bring him here.” The guard could feel her piercing eyes even through their masks.

  He nodded and without a word went inside while the other remained. It took as long as she expected and she imagined the jests and threats Kru’Gan would make while following the guard.

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  She used the time to go back to Dustfang and took the supplies she had gathered after the battle. They were bound around the grand beast and she had taken plenty. While she climbed around the wyvern, Raimond took the bundles she unbid and carried them to the cave entrance. He shared a look with the guard, was ready to defend himself, but the night remained calm. The bundles he brought were of leather and carried herbs and waterskins. Dried meat, pelts and weapons. Even though the Ashen nomads could survive from the few things the deep desert granted them, it was always a feast when they could get supplies pillaged from the south.

  Finally when he brought another bundle, full of pelts and weapons, the guard returned and behind him Kru’Gan approached. The seer carried not the same masks as the other nomads but a blindfold and a hood. Both hung full of trinkets. Coin like metal with runes crafted on them, and obsidian stones that hung from his ears. He stopped as they arrived and Raimond looked at him. He could feel the blind man’s stare and raised a brow when Kru’Gan’s voice finally escaped his mouth. “Ahhh..” He nodded a few times and the smile he had when he came up vanished. “So you brought us a human, my precious dagger.” He hissed and leaned on his staff.

  She looked down at him while unbinding another bundle on Dustfang before she jumped down herself.

  “Leave us…” He whispered to the guards but was cut while she walked close. “No.” She exclaimed. “You stay right where you are!”

  His face became cold and she spoke further. “I think I’m far from the only one who wants to know answers!”

  The guards looked at each other with hidden but confused looks as she continued.

  “Why did the sorceress know my purpose?! Why did she of all creatures of the land call me your dagger?!” Her words became louder and more to shouts the closer she stepped to him and the cave. “And why did she know your name?!”

  He grunted deeply, gathering his words before he asked cold as a spider. “Is she dead?”

  She huffed and was about to answer him when she stepped closer. The guards seemed ready to strike as they slowly grasped the gravity of the words before them.

  Raimond remained silent and ready, next to Dustfang.

  Finally Sha’Raph spoke again. Her words were as cold as her old master’s. “Would it change your answer?”

  A caught smile was born on his face and he sighed. “Oh my dear, you think you are the one who was betrayed..” He started with a grim voice that seemed to rumble through the dunes. “But I assure you, I am but a man concerned for his people.”

  Her mind fought for words and she wanted to shout them all. Before she could find any he spoke the one command she never expected. “Show us your face, Sha’Raph.” She froze. So did the guards and even Raimond seemed tense. But Master Kru’Gan continued. “Show us why you are so upset.”

  Her anger was lost with shock. And her hands moving without her own command. Slowly she grabbed her mask and the hood and finally shed both. The guards watched in shock while Sir Raimond simply watched from behind, still unable to see.

  “Come.” Kru’Gan suddenly told the knight speaking human tongue. It showed a similar rough accent as Sha’Raph yet was spoken more clearly. Slowly the knight moved forward until he stood next to her.

  Her face didn’t carry a darkling’s ashen grey, nor the southern green. It didn’t carry tusks or burning eyes, but the same fair skin his own kind carried. Her hair was curled and clearly cut by herself. A mess of heights and lows just to have room below the hood. It was black and her face stained with dirt and ash. Her eyes carried a brownish green and darted at Master Kru’Gan with continued defiance.

  “Why?” she repeated all of her questions.

  He slowly came closer and laid his big hand on her face. He smiled. “She thought you were a gift to her.” He started. His face, despite everything, was full of admiration. “She thought you would be her last shield should one of us discover a way to use her magic.”

  Her eyes darted around still not grasping. As they shot back to him the ashen winds were almost frozen, and the light of the egg shone at the caves entrance. “But why would you..how did I end up here?” Her breathing was heavy as her world shattered.

  After he had seen enough he brought his hand away from her face. “It has always been our duty to care for the dead.” He started yet for once struggled to find his own words. “You were far from the first..it was always us seers who had to take care of you..and it was always the likes of you that were meant to be watcher.”

  Both her own eyes as well as the guards rang in shock. They had known the watcher before her a few years ago.

  She thought for the longest moment while only the sound of the distant desert breeze went over the ashen dunes.

  Kru’Gans words shifted to the human tongue and Sir Raimond again. “With one of you here, I gather that finally she lies dead.”

  “She lies rotten and eaten by vultures.” The knight answered with pride.

  Kru’Gan ignored the pride and asked on. “Did your home sent you to kill her or~”

  “No.” Raimond declared. “It was a trap so she could drain my lady..” his words trailed off and he looked over to Sha’Raph. “That greedy hag said she didn’t have a feast in a hundred years..how can she still send children to you?”

  Kru’Gan grunted in displeasure. “Some are sent to be drained for life and beauty. Others are made by herself to be the vessel should her home stop sending them.” He started to form a mismatched smile. His broken tusk pierced through the edge of his hood while the metal chain on its remains reflected the moonlight. “Or to be a dagger in need.” His blind gaze went up to embrace the egg in the sky. “It seems, Sha’Raph, even though you were far from the first. You might indeed be the last.”

  Sha’Raph breathed heavily. She wasn’t used to her face being seen or the need to fight tears. “Was I her dagger, or yours?”

  He shook his head with melancholy. “She lies dead and I know you will not heed my commands.” His blind gaze pierced right to her eyes. “But you have witnessed the spell their sorcery can do, did you not?”

  They were talking in orcish again and all Raimond could see were the tears of the woman next to her. She nodded and Kru’Gan continued. “Then you know the spell our beloved Khan seeks to cast. The very power he sought and to demand reality that no orc may harm him.” He sighed. “That is why you are so very precious, my little dagger. Why she always made sure to have one of you close to the Khans, even though you might be a danger to herself.” He sighed. “And it is but one reason why you were so precious to me.”

  The longer they talked the more he seemed to grow to melancholy himself. “I’ll leave you be. The choice is yours now..” He turned and started to walk away before he spoke over his shoulder one last time. “All good I ever said about you was spoken in truth…” Then he vanished into the cave and left them there.

  Once more the desert winds were the only who dared to speak.

  She was shaking. Trying to find the truth in her mind and the choice in her heart. Slowly she turned and simply continued to unpack Dustfang. Sir Raimond followed and did the same. No word was spoken until they were done. The guards just remained, one of them took the supplies and brought them in while the other continued to watch the desert.

  Once they were done she finally took word again. “What will you do?”

  He shook his head. “As I told you, I will try and find a way back home..” She nodded, her mind distant.

  He laid a hand on her shoulder and forced her eyes to him. “What about you?”

  She thought for a long time. Unsure what to do or how to be. There was a time when she longed for the far west but now its promise seemed less of adventure and more of truths she rather wouldn’t know.

  Her gaze went up to the sky as another Wyvern flew by. Darkscale and Bruna. They didn’t fly down, but only continued to fly through the night. Always to the north. To Karn’Arak and Aru’Gal. She knew she couldn’t go away from her duty. But it would take her the night to see where it lied. Once she had dreamed of sailing the west with Aru’Gal. Now, she thought, he needed to die before she could leave.