The Elder's Curse Andrew Walbrown (red scrolls of magic .TXT) 📖

“Please excuse my brother,” Bati continued, “his hatred for slavers blinds his judgment. I am sure that is why he so zealously attacked you in the oasis. I once again offer you my deepest apologies.”

“You’ve apologized enough,” Amantius replied. “Please, I hold no grudge; it was a misunderstanding.” Even though Buri bashed me in the head and left me with a crushing headache for days. But don’t be angry, Amantius, you’d want to murder every single mouse-person in the world if one enslaved your mother.

“No matter, on both our behalves I am eternally shamed for what happened. Finish your bowls,” Bati said as he headed for his tent, “and go to bed. If we make good time tomorrow, and by Eemoneem’s grace, we will reach Yawan by sundown.”

The third day was not as easy as Bati had hoped, as minor ash storms impeded their progress in the early morning hours. During this Amantius was thankful for the camels; not only did they bear the burden of carrying his possessions, but they also served as effective shields against whipping winds and coarse ash. By midday the ground was as hot as dragon’s fire while another ash storm grew on the horizon, the combination forcing the party to seek shelter in an oasis. Since the storm lasted far past midnight they camped there, only to rise early the next day, determined to reach Yawan.

After walking for a few hours the next morning, Bati stopped the group at the base of a small hill, a smile stretched across his face. High in the blue sky above were many species of colorful birds, some of which Amantius found to be reminiscent of those native to Accaria. He also noticed the different type of sand under his boots; the hill before them was not covered in the same flaky, beige ash they had eaten mouthfuls of for the past few weeks. Instead of that intolerable dust, the hill was covered in softer, finer sand, much like that of the oases.

“On the other side of this hill is the great city of Yawan,” Bati said before climbing to the top. “Come, She awaits you!”

Amantius, Ulam, and Nilawen joined Bati and were rewarded with a gust of cool wind, the first they had felt since entering the Ashlands. Before them was a seaside city with a great, flowing river in the middle, its waters pouring into the bay. From the hill Amantius could see much of Yawan; both sides of the river were heavily settled with mudbrick buildings, most of which decorated with vibrant flowers and small potted trees on the rooves and balconies. It was the largest city Amantius had ever seen, bigger than anything he could have possibly imagined. Though the sheer size and floral beauty of Yawan captured his attention first, it did not hold it for long. His eyes slowly shifted towards the river, where a giant obelisk, much like those in the Alakuum, dominated the bay. It stood on an island at the river’s mouth, where the freshwater mingled with the salty sea and was surrounded by many small structures. The obelisk was much taller than any other building in Yawan; its shadow stretching far into the sea behind its massive stone base.

“Why is the sand here different?” Ulam asked, breaking the silence.

“Some believe it is Eemoneem’s doing, praise be unto Her,” Bati replied with his eyes looking skyward. “Others think there is a more scientific explanation. Honestly, I do not know what to believe, and right now it is not important. Come, my guests, Buri and I welcome you to Yawan.”

As Amantius descended the hill into the valley, the sand under his feet quickly disappeared, replaced with lush, green grass and firm soil. It was so different from the Ashlands he thought he was still concussed, that the talking mice-men and their seaside paradise were simply a mirage born from a fever dream. But as Ulam and Nilawen joined him, followed by the camels and the Kalikki brothers, he began to accept what he saw was real.

“Can you believe this?” Amantius whispered as Ulam stood beside him, both enjoying the shade of a great palm tree. They may have been only a few hundred feet removed from ash-covered desolation and despair, but the Ashlands already seemed like a distant memory being carried away by the sweet, seaside breeze.

“A city like this? Yes.” Ulam said. “But not here. How does such a place exist in life, but not in any book I have read?”

“Maybe you’re reading the wrong books,” Amantius replied with a shrug. “Doesn’t matter, I can’t wait to get some beer in my belly. Bati, Buri, how is the beer in Yawan?”

Buri pulled a serious, almost disproving face, far more so than his normal expression. “There is no beer in Yawan, or wine, or anything else. Our society prohibits alcohol; it clouds the mind and no good ever comes from it.”

Amantius laughed but stopped abruptly when he realized no one else was joining him. “There’s no alcohol here? You’re kidding, right?” He waited for a response, prayed for a chuckle, but nothing happened. “Awesome, I braved a desert and kidnapping only to come to a land with nothing to drink.”

“There is plenty of camel’s milk,” Buri commented, still unamused. “You may have your fill in any of the hundreds of milkhouses in the city; most are reasonably priced but the higher quality of milk the more coins you will need. Of course, there is also water, if you wish, though if a host offers milk it is a grave insult to refuse.”

Great, more camel’s milk. Amantius nodded, wholly unenthused by the prospect. The disappointment was so heavy on his face that Ulam and Nilawen could not help but laugh. Go ahead, don’t cry to me when you want to enjoy a sunset beer and all you have is warm milk. You will get no sympathy from me.

As they drew nearer to Yawan roads began to appear, wide mudbrick paths