Silence settled over the room as the group hit a wall of logistical impossibility.
Then, the air shimmered. Mirage cleared her throat, her translucent form vibrating with a sudden influx of data.
‘If I may intervene,’ she intoned. ‘The Riders have always maintained discrete dealings with theDraquis. Their Synth Assistant, Miko, is a node of mine, meaning she is like a sister to me. I can establish a link and request an urgent audience.’
‘Mirage, you are a dream come true,’ Ki’Remi growled, a grin finally touching his face.
‘I’m well aware you can’t live without me,’ she replied, her eyes dancing. ‘I’ll initiate the entreaty and report as soon as I have a response.’
With a glimmer of light, she vanished into the aether, leaving the group to socialize for a while longer.
Later, as the others chatted, Idan stepped out onto the wraparound veranda.
He moved to the railing and inhaled, his lungs expanding with the mountain’s pure air.
Before him, Dunia unfolded in a magnificence of emerald and sapphire.
Massive, sawtooth peaks carved the horizon, their granite faces softened by thick blankets of lichen and ancient pines.
Between these giants, deep fjords cut into the land.
Cascades of spring water tumbled down the mountain slopes, surging into fathomless stone basins and natural waterholes with a rhythmic, percussive roar.
The landscape hummed with life; the distant, resonant lowing of cattle drifted on the breeze, punctuated by the melodic chime of copper cowbells and the frantic bleating of sheep from the high pastures.
It was a verdant paradise, a stark contrast to the scorched, unforgiving expanses of the Tansinian frontier.
The whisper of a step announced Sheba’s arrival, as she slipped behind him, her arms snaking around his waist.
She pressed her cheek against his shoulder blades.
‘I find myself drawn to this place,’ Idan rasped, his hands covering hers. ‘It evokes the same peace as Tansinia, yet it seems to have a living soul of its own.’
‘Dunia is sentient, and has its own guardian spirit, you know,’ Sheba murmured into his back. ‘I can’t wait to take you to New Malindi, where I was raised by the coast, another magnificent experience. We can even visit a grotto where the presence of the planet is most palpable.’
Idan turned his gaze back to the sprawling orchards and the sturdy farmhouse.
‘Perhaps, when the dust of this conflict settles, we can purchase a spread of our own. A place where the sky is the only thing above us.’
Sheba pulled back, a flicker of pragmatic doubt crossing her features.
‘How? My income and the modest inheritance from my parents would not even afford a lease on a small holding out here, let alone buying a farm.’
Idan spun in her arms, a slow smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he faced her.
‘As a warrior-divine of Sacra, I possess a hoard of valuables, some payment, others pillaged, hidden at a secure hold at a secret celestial fold. It contains more than enough to purchase a dozen such farms, and the valleys between them.’
Sheba stared at him, her jaw tightening in disbelief. ‘So you pulled off a poor alpine shepherd vibe when, in reality, you are some kind ofarkhein khan?’
At his silent raised brow in question, she clarified, ‘It’s a term from theKwavitongue. It signifies a wealthy master, a man of limitless resources.’
Idan’s lips twitched, his eyes ignited with sudden inner luminescence.
‘I am a Sacran immortal, and by our standards of time, we have only just been introduced. There are vast chapters of my history you have yet to navigate. Once this shitshow is over, I intend to reveal every facet of my former existence to you, including my hoard.’
Sheba’s expression shifted into a sober musing.
He caught the swift change in mood and leaned in to her, using a calloused finger to raise her chin. ‘Talk to me, beautiful.’
