The journey to Skaldur was a day swallowed by the sun and one restless night under a sky too vast to feel real. Aeris had convinced herself the desert would show mercy once they arrived, that the air might cool, the dust might settle. But it didn't.
Skaldur wasn't an escape from the wasteland. It was simply a city carved straight from it. She was used to the smell of damp earth, the weight of mist hanging in the air, wooden houses tucked among trees, rain tapping against stone roads. Here, there was only dry heat pressing against her skin. The buildings stretched impossibly high, their jagged stone facades catching the light like sun-bleached bones. The streets, though paved, couldn't escape the creeping fingers of sand that the wind tossed carelessly across them.
As Zerek and his men passed through the towering iron gates, the city responded. People emerged from the shadows, forming silent rows along the road, their expressions unreadable. Aeris had expected them to look like the men she'd traveled with; brazen, half-dressed, draped in pelts. But no. They wore clothes, though nothing bright, nothing new. The colors had faded under the relentless sun, their fabric worn thin by the desert's unyielding grip. They looked like survivors, beaten down yet unbroken, hardened.
Muscle defined most of them, their strength etched into the way they moved. Some strode bare-chested, their skin glinting with sweat. Others wore leather vests, silver-threaded and battle-scarred. Many kept their heads wrapped, shielding themselves from the scorching air. Aeris realized, with an unsettling awareness, that her own skin—pale and burned after days beneath the sun—was an outlier here. These men were bronzed, whether by nature or sheer endurance, she couldn't tell. Their hair was thick, braided tight and adorned with trinkets, bits of metal, bone, cloth. To them, it was decoration. To Aeris, it only made them look savage. Crude.
"So this is the land of the barbarians," Aeris murmured, her voice barely audible over the desert wind. "I didn't expect much, but this… this is worse than I imagined."
"This is your home now," Zerek's voice slithered into her ear, thick with amusement. "Get used to it."
Her jaw clenched. "When do I get down?" she asked through gritted teeth. "Because I refuse to get used to you breathing down my neck."
She felt him grin, his chest pressed against her back, radiating heat she didn't need under the relentless sun. "We're still far from our destination," he told her as he leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear, her neck. "You might as well forget about escaping me."
Aeris recoiled, rubbing at her ear and neck like she could wipe his breath from her skin. Her eyes snapped to his face, sharp with disgust. Zerek only laughed, unbothered, entertained by how much she loathed him.
A rider approached, kicking up a swirl of dust as he sped toward them. "What a beautiful woman you've brought with you, Prince Zerek," the man called, his voice rich and smooth. Aeris caught sight of him through the shifting sand. His hair wasn't black like the others. Silver. The first glimpse of something different since she had arrived, though it was nothing remarkable.
He was striking, almost too beautiful for a warrior, if not for the sharp cut of his jaw and the solid breadth of his chest. He sat atop a magnificent horse, its muscles rippling beneath a gleaming coat. Behind him, others rode in formation.
Unlike the men she had traveled with, these warriors were cleaner, refined in their savagery. Though their chests were bared like it was custom, they wore fur-lined jackets draped over their shoulders, swords gleaming at their sides.
"Don't tell me this is just another woman you've dragged in for your amusement." The words dripped with accusation, stirring fresh disgust in Aeris' chest. She turned slightly, catching Zerek's expression in the corner of her eye. A sharp-toothed grin, wicked and unrepentant.
"Kali," he said, something dangerously close to joy in his tone. "Did you come to welcome me home, brother?"
Brother? Aeris blinked, skepticism curling in her thoughts. They looked nothing alike. Zerek, with his long black braids, his eyes as dark as the abyss, tall and broad like he was built to command, to crush anything in his path. Then there was Kali—silver-haired, silver-eyed, his form lean yet muscled, but lacking the sheer force of presence that made Zerek so undeniably monstrous. No, they didn't look like brothers. And worse, Kali was striking in a way Zerek could never be. Where Zerek's tattoos sprawled across his chest like the markings of some untamed beast, Kali's stayed mostly on his arms, controlled.
Kali scoffed, shifting in his saddle, his horse pawing at the dust. "The world doesn't revolve around you, brother. Father has sent me north to conquer the tribe there."
"The northern tribe?" Zerek's grin faltered, a shadow flickering in his expression. "I have a treaty with them."
Kali smiled then, and Aeris felt her stomach twist because that was where they resembled each other. That same knowing smirk, the kind that meant trouble. "Your treaties are never solid, brother. You should know that by now. So, I'm off to clean up your mess. I'll see you and your lovely companion when I return."
With nothing more, Kali turned his horse and rode off, his small army of fifty following in perfect formation. Aeris turned her face away from the dust kicked up in their wake. As she watched the people's reaction, she understood something undeniable. War was second nature to the men of Skaldur.
"What should we do, Zerek?" Marlik's voice came from behind.
Aeris turned, expecting—hoping—to see some crack in Zerek's composure, some flicker of frustration after his brother's dismissal. But there was nothing. No humiliation, no irritation. He simply stared ahead, like he was seeing something none of them could.
"Leave it," he said, unaffected. "Continue on as planned."
As if nothing had happened. As if the collapse of his treaty was nothing more than a stray grain of sand in the wind. His focus remained unshaken. Getting Aeris to the heart of Skaldur's royal domain was clearly more pressing than whatever battlefield Kali was riding toward.
Another hour passed, the unrelenting motion sending aches deep into Aeris' bones. Every jolt of the horse rattled through her, until she was on the brink of demanding they stop. But before her frustration could boil over, they arrived.
The shift In scenery was immediate. The towering stone houses remained, but here, they were different, refined, elegant, untouched by the dust that clung so desperately to the rest of the city. They passed another gate, its iron swallowing them into a world of polished cobblestone roads. Aeris caught sight of a fountain, its water cascading from the sculpted form of a goddess, marble and naked, frozen in divine beauty. She stared, unable to reconcile the delicate artistry with the brutal, unforgiving land that surrounded it.
"We have arrived," Zerek murmured beside her, his voice brushing against her skin like sand caught in the wind. And once again, his voice and breathe brushed her wrong