Watcher of Fate

Elara, Lily, and Kael walked through the winding corridors of the Ataruk tribe’s settlement, following Yared, the [Human Trader] who had spoken on their behalf to Khan Khareema. The air was cooler here, shaded by the layers of fabric draped overhead, fluttering gently in the desert breeze. The walls were rough and uneven, a mix of mud brick and stone that gave the pathways a sense of ancient, lived-in resilience. The narrow corridors occasionally opened into wider spaces, revealing glimpses of the bustling life atop the massive tortoise, Olorun.

Elara glanced at Kael, walking beside her, his tail swishing nervously. She could tell he was still shaken from Khareema’s not-so-subtle warning. She took a breath, deciding to break the silence. “So, Kael, what’s your end game here? Where are you heading now that you’re out of Tartarus?”

Kael’s eyes flicked to her, still cautious, but his expression softened slightly. “I’m planning to head home,” he replied, his tone becoming more relaxed. “Back to the Realm of the Magi.”

Elara furrowed her brow. “Realm of the Magi?” she repeated, clearly confused. It wasn’t a name she recognized from any maps or books she’d studied.

Kael raised an eyebrow at her response, a slight smile playing on his lips as he continued. “Or, perhaps you know it as the Empire of the Sun?”

Elara shook her head, still uncertain. She’d never heard that name, which showed in her puzzled expression. Kael’s shoulders slumped slightly, and he sighed, exasperation creeping into his voice. “The Peacock Throne?”

Elara's eyes widened at the mention of that name, and a spark of recognition flickered across her face. “Oh! The Peacock Throne,” she said, nodding. “Now that I’ve heard of. It’s a kingdom to the west of the Aetherium Empire, right? Known for its… very elaborate throne?” She could almost picture the description from one of the old books she’d read back in the library of Barrowbridge, an empire famous for its opulence and a king who supposedly sat on a throne encrusted with jewels, feathers, and finery. The name alone conjured images of luxury and extravagance.

Kael’s expression shifted to one of mild annoyance. “Yes, yes, we have a ridiculously fancy throne and a king who likes to show it off,” he grumbled, his tail flicking sharply in irritation. “But there’s more to my homeland than just a peacock of a king, I assure you. We have the most advanced Magi academy in the realm. Scholars, spellweavers, enchanters, and the greatest minds in the world come there to learn and refine their craft. It’s a place where magic is studied in its purest forms, theories are tested, and real progress is made.”

Elara nodded, her lips curling into a smile. She had never really thought of the Peacock Throne beyond the extravagant image it conjured in her mind. “I suppose I only ever read about the more… flamboyant parts,” she admitted, her smile widening. “But it sounds like there’s much more to it than meets the eye.”

Kael relaxed a bit more, clearly appreciating the shift in tone. “There is,” he said, his pride for his homeland evident in his voice. “And that’s where I’m headed. I’ve had enough of Tartarus, enough of danger and devils. I want to return to the libraries and academies, to places where knowledge is valued and pursued.”

Sensing the conversation was drifting into more personal territory, Elara decided to switch topics to something more practical. “Alright, enough about distant empires and fancy thrones,” she said, her tone more focused. “We need to think about our next steps and ensure we’re well-prepared for whatever comes our way. We must gather supplies, food, water, and anything useful on our journey.”

Yared, who had been quietly guiding them through the twisting corridors, nodded in agreement. “You’re right about that,” he said, his voice steady and confident. “We’ll be making our closest approach to Fort Stonehelm soon, an old Aetherium Empire outpost on the Ember Path, still bustling with merchants and travelers even after all these years. If you need to stock up, that would be the place to do it. It’s a decent stop before the more treacherous journey to Gabilanûr. We should have some time there to rest and trade.”

He continued, “And you can catch an airship to Gabilanûr from there. It’ll be a much faster and safer journey than trying to cross the wilderness or the mountain ranges on foot. The airships departing from Fort Stonehelm are among the most reliable, though I’d be prepared for a bumpy ride if the winds are high.”

“Yared,” she said, turning to their guide, “do you know where we can find a potter in this place? We’re going to need some large containers for water storage.”

Yared nodded and gestured for them to follow. “Of course. There’s a skilled potter just a few streets over. She should be able to help you with whatever you need.” He led them through the winding paths of the settlement on the tortoise’s back, past bustling vendors and curious onlookers, until they arrived at a small shop nestled between two larger buildings. The scent of fresh clay and a faint hum of magical energy filled the air, and the sound of shifting earth echoed from within.

Elara stepped inside, her eyes widening at the sight. In the center of the shop stood a middle-aged woman, her hands raised and her eyes closed in concentration. Before her, a mound of clay floated in mid-air, spinning and shifting without the aid of a wheel. The clay moved almost as if it were alive, stretching and compressing under the potter’s guidance, shaping itself into the smooth, curved form of a large amphora. Small tendrils of earth wrapped around the vessel, smoothing out imperfections and adding intricate designs as the potter directed them with subtle movements of her fingers.

“What can I do for you?” the potter asked without opening her eyes, her voice steady and confident. With a final wave of her hand, the amphora settled gently onto a nearby table, its surface gleaming with a faint sheen.

“We’re looking for large amphorae,” Elara explained, still somewhat awestruck by the display of earth magic. “We need to store significant water for a long journey. What’s the largest size you can make?”

The potter opened her eyes, her gaze sharp and calculating. “Most of my stock is the standard amphorae quadrantal,” she said, pointing to several tall, narrow jars resting against the walls, each one seemingly sculpted with the same delicate precision. The amphorae were beautifully crafted, with decorative motifs that danced along their surfaces.

Elara quickly did some mental math, calculating the volume they’d need. “If each amphorae quadrantal holds slightly more than a week's worth of water,” she murmured, “we’d need about forty of them to meet our water requirements. That’s... quite a bit.”

The potter chuckled softly at her calculation, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Forty amphorae would indeed be a bit much. But I don’t just work in small sizes. I can make larger vessels if that’s what you need, fifty-quadrantal dolia. They’re typically used for long-term wine storage but are just as good for water, especially for long travels.”

As she spoke, she raised her hands once more, and the ground beneath them seemed to tremble slightly. From a pit behind the counter, a massive, blocky piece of clay rose slowly, spinning in the air as it gathered into a broad, wide shape. The clay began to shift and mold itself under her control, forming the beginnings of a much larger vessel. It was almost hypnotic to watch how the earth responded to her will, reshaping itself like soft dough.

“That would work perfectly,” Elara said, her admiration for the potter’s skill clear in her tone. “How much would one of those cost?”

The potter paused, considering for a moment as the enormous dolia continued to shape itself in the background. “I could make one for about sixty crystals. Seventy-five if you want it reinforced and enchanted to better withstand the stresses of travel.”

Elara nodded, satisfied. “We’ll take it. One reinforced fifty-quadrantal dolia, please.” She counted out the crystals from her pouch, feeling the weight of each one as she handed them over. The potter accepted the payment, her lips curling into a pleased smile.

“Very well,” the potter said. “I’ll have it finished by the end of the day. I’ll add a bit of extra reinforcement magic to ensure it holds up on your journey.”

Elara watched as the potter began to weave her magic again, her hands moving with fluid grace as the earthen vessel took its final form. She could feel the subtle hum of mana in the air, resonating with the clay as it responded to the potter’s commands. The craftsmanship was remarkable, each groove, curve, and detail etched with a precision that only magic could achieve.

With the water storage sorted, the group continued through the winding paths of the settlement, moving from stall to stall. They visited various vendors, collecting an assortment of foodstuffs: dried meats, fruits, and hard bread that would last for weeks, as well as sacks of grains and beans. Elara made sure to get a good variety of foods to ensure they didn’t tire of any single type during the long journey.

Eventually, they found themselves in front of a stall where various drinks were sold, everything from wine to fermented milk to herbal infusions. Deciding they could use a break, they settled down at a small table under an awning, sharing a simple meal of flatbread, cheese, and olives. Kael ordered a flask of a strong-smelling spirit that made Elara’s nose wrinkle, but Lily seemed to enjoy it, sipping carefully with a pleased expression.

As they ate, Elara asked, “So, where are we staying tonight?”

Yared finished his mouthful of bread and wiped his hands on his tunic. "You’ll be staying with my older sister," he said, his voice warm with familial pride. "She’s one of the clan’s medicine women. Don’t worry; she has a good heart and a knack for caring for people."

Elara nodded appreciatively. "That sounds good," she replied, feeling slightly relieved. She’d grown accustomed to roughing it in all sorts of places, but having a safe and comfortable place to rest, especially under the care of someone with healing knowledge, was a welcome thought. "We could all rest properly, especially after everything today."

Lily raised an eyebrow, her fox-like ears twitching slightly in amusement. "A medicine woman, you say? I could certainly use some care. All this desert air is terrible for my fur," she teased, flicking a strand of her hair over her shoulder with a dramatic flourish.

Kael chuckled, the tension from earlier easing a bit. "And maybe she’ll have something for Elara’s ego after that illusion stunt," he smirked.

Elara rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "Laugh it up. Next time, I’ll let you handle the bandits."

Yared chuckled along with them, then stood and gestured for them to follow. “Come on, it’s not far. She lives a bit away from the main bustle, where it’s quieter. She’ll have a room ready for you.”

They gathered their things and followed Yared as he led them through the winding pathways of the settlement. The bustling marketplace slowly led to quieter alleys lined with tents and small homes. The sounds of traders haggling and craftsmen working grew more distant, replaced by the soft murmur of the wind and the occasional call of desert birds.

As they walked, Elara’s thoughts drifted to the coming days. With supplies now in hand and a place to rest for the night, the next step would be getting to Fort Stonehelm. There, they would have to be vigilant, gather more information, and find an airship willing to take them on the next leg of their journey to Gabilanûr. A flicker of determination burned within her; they were on their way, but the road ahead would only grow more challenging.

She could afford to relax a little tonight, knowing they were in good hands.