I slept on the ground that night, hot, restless, and on the verge of emptying my guts.

  Unable to get any rest, I tossed and turned thinking about Cashius and how he had tried to play me. Even if it looked like I forgave him at the celebration, it still did not sit right with me.

  By the time light peeked through the sliver in the flaps and beamed straight into my eyes, I was fatigued, hungover, and couldn’t think straight. I squeezed my lids together and let out a rugged yawn. My head was a mess of half-remembered conversations, with pain stretching across my forehead every time I moved.

  Each and every part of me hurt this morning. From my knees to my neck, and to my abdomen. As I lay there, I only prayed that somehow I’d feel better before Cashius and I left to do the trials.

  Sprawled out in a cup beside me was Sparks. One boot on, the other tossed under the glass she lay in. From her chin dangled a long line of drool that spilled onto her clothes. Despite her awkward positioning, she slept with a smile on her face.

  Thinking exercise would make me feel better, I rolled onto my stomach and knocked out a few pushups, eager to feel like myself again. No good. Each pump sent more pain shooting through my body, making me regret ever thinking that would work.

  When the exercise failed to ease the pounding, I downed a potion and to my surprise, the pain retreated.

  I should’ve tried that sooner, I thought.

  Next, I shook my head as the wind blew the flaps and I got a whiff of myself.

  All that animal back riding, sword swinging, and chasing after Cashius in dangerous desert conditions had taken its toll, and now I needed to wash my self.

  It would feel awkward to ask someone how to do something like that, but considering I didn’t notice anyone smelling yesterday, I was sure I would find something to freshen up.

  Pushing open the flap, I stepped into the heavy air and started my search for fresh water.

  The sun hung high, which told me I had slept well past morning. Back home, that never happened. I was used to knocking out my work early, then enjoying the rest of the day. Get the blood pumping, stay active. My dad raised me that way, and I guess it stuck.

  As soon as I stepped forward, Sparks fluttered to my side, clutching her head with one hand. Through our bond, I felt her nausea and hunger. I opened my shirt pocket for her, and she slipped inside, curling up with a groggy sigh.

  I slipped her a sip of potion, and her cheeks flushed with color. In seconds, she was back to circling my body, eyes sharp and protective.

  I scanned the area and saw the tribe was already buzzing with life. Men shuffled around, looking as I had felt just a moment ago, their faces pulled into half-smiles. Women stood outside their tents cooking breakfast, the smell drifting across the camp, and children stopped what they were doing to watch my every step.

  I lowered my head and asked a young man where I could wash. He led me to a basin where several people stood in their undergarments, scrubbing their bodies with the hot purple sand.

  I groaned in disbelief. “Why me?” I muttered.

  But with no real choice, I stripped down to my beat-up boxers and stood in the sun, scrubbing my body clean of monster bits and grime. Someone handed me a bar of what I assumed was soap, but when I asked what it was made of, my eyebrows shot up.

  Refined sand worm fat mixed with desert herbs, meant to smear under my arms. The man swore it would keep the stink from coming back, though I had my doubts.

  I took the beige stuff and rubbed it on, unsure what to expect. The memory of how the meat tasted last night came rushing back, and I instantly regretted eating even a scrap of it and now smearing it across my body. But when I sniffed under my arms, I couldn’t believe it—somehow, wearing the concoction, I smelled fresher.

  Once I was finished, I pulled myself together and set off to find Jessa, ready to begin the trials and get this whole ordeal over with.

  Maybe before I left for Fort Laishava, it would be best to stop at a shop and buy some more desert-appropriate gear. Something with ease. Billowy, breezy, and not these rough, stiff jeans and greaves I had on.

  And believe it or not, I still saw no sign of Cashius, which was surprising.

  With our disagreement yesterday, I wanted to explain myself better, without liquor guiding my tongue. Tell him how I truly felt.

  Anyway, once I stepped inside the big gold tent in the center of the caravan, all thoughts of telling off Cashius vanished in an instant.

  Looking up at the structure still amazed me. The sheer size of the thing. How they even managed to erect it, and more importantly, how they moved it from place to place whenever Linuux started attacking them again.

  And speaking of Linuux. I hated the serpent more and more with each passing day. Now more than ever, I wanted to plunge my sword between his eyes and watch his scaly body drop to the floor.

  One mother rocked her child in her arms, when a black clad man rushed to her side and shook her child awake, breaking his daze. Another victim stood rocking on his feet, eyes glazed over, mumbling to himself.

  Same as before, someone rushed to aid them before stalking off.

  These people were pleasant and capable, at least from the little I knew about them. Seeing the pain and worry in the faces filled me with anger for some reason.

  After learning people were being attack by Linuux, well, that only made my anger worse.

  When I parted the curtain, a chill greeted me. The magic glacier inside the pavilion, working like a large air conditioner, was something I’d never get used to.

  Near the center of the room, I found Zeviir locked in a tense debate. The others were there, silent as stones.

  Nefa, the beautiful woman who had spilled a little of my blood yesterday, was letting Zeviir have it. This afternoon. The white scar running down her face was not as long as I remembered, but when I saw her, something inside of me wanted her.

  With a pointed finger and a sharp twist of her neck, she laid into him.

  “I don’t want to go anywhere with anybody. No matter what you offer, I won’t do it,” she snapped. “My job is to protect the tribe from Linuux. If I leave, who will do it, Father?”

  “Listen, daughter,” Zeviir pleaded. “Jessa and I already gave him our respect. And as far as protection, there are others who have passed the Covenant of Blades and can provide protection. If we go back on our word, we will lose face before the other chieftains, maybe even lose our positions.”

  I moved closer without a sound. When I stepped right behind Zeviir, he jerked, drawing his weapon with alarming speed.

  Nefa ducked under his spear, yanking free the same silver-tipped blade she had used to catch me off guard yesterday, and stood like a cat about to pounce on its prey.

  Surprised, I raised my hands. “Hold up, you two,” I said, placing a hand against Zeviir’s shoulder. “It’s just me and my tiny friend here. No reason to start poking holes in anybody.”

  They eyed me, then eased, pulling down their weapons.

  Sparks glowed brighter.

  “Good day, Lamont,” Zeviir said, gripping his wrist in a show of nerves. “My daughter and I were just having a small discussion,” his eyes wandered. “Sorry if you overheard anything you might take offense to.”

  I eyed him, filled with suspicion. “I didn’t hear anything,” I lied. “I’m still recovering from the festivities last night. Hoping that all that drinking doesn’t slow me down on the trials.”

  Nefa folded her arms, her gaze locked on me. “Slow you down?” she muttered, her tone dripping with more attitude than any woman I’d ever met back home. “Out there, if you can’t keep up, the sand will swallow you whole.”

  Where the slick talk and feistiness came from, I had no idea.

  Yesterday we were flirting with each other. Now, not so much. But if there’s one thing I know from experience, it's that women’s moods could change like the weather.

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Nothing will be swallowing me whole, Nefa. I’m more than able to take care of myself out there,” I said, my mind wandering with unsavory thoughts. “If anything, it’s the monsters who should duck and hide from me and my small but capable battle fairy.” I gestured to Sparks, who sat on my shoulder, swinging her legs.

  Nefa rolled her eyes. “See, Father? He says he can handle himself. More than able, as he put it.”

  “It’s not up to me, but to Jessa,” Zeviir replied. “As soon as she returns, we’re sending you two off. That’s that.”

  “Wait, wait. You two?” I said, blinking. “I thought it was gonna be Cashius and me taking on the trials, not her and me.”

  Zeviir folded his arms. “Cashius isn’t fit for it, trust me. And to keep Linuux from destroying your mind, I’m sending my daughter. She’ll guide you to the proper place and perform our sacred ritual. After that, the trials are yours to face.”

  Nefa tried to storm off, but Zeviir caught her by the arm. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

  Her brows relaxed, and her posture softened. “Okay, father. But he has to follow my rules and do things my way. Any other mess he tries, and he fails before he even starts. Agreed?”

  The world froze, and a blue box appeared.

  Do you accept Nefa as a companion?

  [Yes] or [No]

  I hovered over Yes. Having someone other than Cashius or Sparks would take some getting used to. But the game had already decided Cashius wouldn’t join me for this part of the journey.

  Besides, having someone who knew the desert and its ways would be more than helpful. The way she had crept up on me yesterday was impressive enough, and combined with her speed, I’d be a fool not to say yes.

  I let the pointer hover a few more seconds before mashing the button.

  A chime rang out, and the world returned to its regular rhythm.

  “Now that’s settled. I’m off to find Jessa and your guide. When I return, we’ll see you off,” he placed a hand over his heart. “Respect is shared,” followed by a thumping foot to the sand.

  Which left Nefa and me standing there, staring each other down.

  Seconds dragged before any words came out of mouth. Sparks hopped off my shoulder and hovered inches from my face, looking more agitated than usual.

  “So, you don’t want to come with me to the trials?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  She shook her head, her hair flowing like desert sand. “No, I don’t. If I leave, that puts people I swore to protect at risk, and Linuux’s influence will spread quicker.”

  “How so?”

  “When we stay in one place for more than a few weeks, his psychic abilities start to prey on the weak,” she said. “Just this morning, many began to fall ill, which tells me I’m needed here more than ever.” She stamped her foot in frustration. “When I passed the trials, I was blessed with protection that I can use to shield my people. I am afraid that if I left, my friends and family would fall victim.”

  I thought back to the people I had seen this morning and understood her concerns.

  “That is why I drew my weapon on you yesterday,” she continued. “I could smell his corruption all over you and thought you were lost to him. But up close, I realized you had taken Saheer's leaves to fight it. That is the only reason your neck is still attached.”

  My hand went to my throat. “If it makes any difference, I plan to eliminate Linuux and free your people from his control. But first, I need to finish this trial nonsense and have the path revealed. Your helping me get there is just the first step. Don’t you want to be part of that, or are you okay with Linuux stealing members of your tribe one by one?”

  “Nonsense!” She huffed, her voice cutting sharper than any blade. “The trials are the same ones our ancestors endured when they became the people of the sand. And looking at you, I doubt you even have it in you to finish it, let alone survive.”

  Sparks sent an emotion at me. Something that felt like disbelief in Nefa.

  I smirked at the fairy and finished my conversation.

  “You doubt me even though you don’t know the first thing about me,” I said. “You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve done in this world, little girl.”

  “Don’t call me little girl, ego-driven boy. I’m not as young as I appear.”

  The attendants glanced at us and laughed before going on about their business.

  “I apologize,” I said, extending my hand.

  She looked at it like her father had yesterday. “What is this thing with your hand? Do you want me to lead you somewhere?”

  “No, where I’m from, it can be a greeting or a way of showing my intentions. And apologize. I thought it was universal.”

  She grabbed my hand and slapped it. Her rough skin brushed against mine.

  “Apology accepted,” she said, walking to the front of the tent. “Respect is shared.”

  Sparks sent a feeling of dislike through our shared bond. I dismissed her and pulled up the menu.

  This time, when I examined the Character screen, I saw a 3D representation of Nefa and her stats.

  Nefa Stormcloud — Level 31

  HP: 11,500 XP: 2300

  Daughter of Chief Zeviir. Commander of the elite squad of Dream Chasers, soldiers who patrol the region and vanquish all psychic influence sent by Linuux. Trained by her father, Nefa is a skilled killer when the need calls for it.

  Fierce but unshaken, she carries herself with the weight of her bloodline and the sharpness of her training. Those under her command follow without question, knowing she’ll step into danger before asking anyone else to. To most, she is cold, unreadable, and brutal in her efficiency, but those rare enough to see past her weapon know there’s a heart beating for something greater than war.

  Now, I’m not a perv, but I did spin around her computer-generated body and take in her athletic figure, how her frame fitted into those tight leather pantsuit.

  Her big breasts are bouncing like... well, let's just say it was distracting.

  To me, she was the picture of beauty. Lethal in appearance, yet paired with a cute smile, I found myself secretly yearning for.

  She also had two special abilities:

  Shadow Reap

  Effect: Nefa becomes a blur of shadows, dashing through enemies in a curved arc. Any foe struck by her scythe suffers bleeding damage over time, and survivors are left with reduced vision, as if shadows cling to their eyes.

  Cooldown / Balance: Medium cooldown. Excellent against groups, but leaves her briefly exposed afterward.

  Soul Sever

  Effect: With a toss of her scythe, Nefa tears at the essence of her target. Alongside physical damage, this drains stamina or mana, leaving the foe sluggish or unable to cast. If she kills with this ability, she siphons their energy, restoring a portion of her own health.

  Cooldown / Balance: Long cooldown, but devastating against elites or magic users.

  I closed the menu, heat rising in my face when I noticed her tapping her foot by the tent’s opening flap.

  Those abilities would come in handy in the desert.

  Sparks’s eyebrows narrowed when she saw what I was staring at. She sent a burst of anger at me that flared across my chest.

  “Sorry, miss lady,” I said. “I didn’t mean to make you mad. But the young lady does something to me.”

  She flew around me, her face twisted into a smirk.

  I walked through the spacious tent, taking in the lovely display. Then I found a corner where I could rest. Without the other chieftains, the place felt bare, and if not for the handful of attendants moving about, it would have seemed empty.

  The four individuals who had performed the ice ceremony stood nearby, their presence keeping the air cool.

  My thoughts went to the trials, wondering what it could be. I did not know why I had not asked. Maybe I was too overwhelmed with everything. Add to that the argument between Cashius and me, and I had overlooked it.

  The more I thought, the heavier my head felt. Almost like I was drunk all over again. Sitting cross-legged like a child, images started appearing before me. Jaded eyes. Reptile-like. Sinister yet comforting.

  When I noticed, I was swaying back and forth much like a cobra. That was when Nefa rushed to my side and shook me, breaking whatever spell had started to take hold.

  “Lamont,” she warned. “Linuux has his sights set on you. If I had not broken the pull, you might have walked through the doors of your mind and been lost to us forever.”

  I was still in a daze, sweat beginning to bead despite the cool air. Every word from Nefa’s mouth carried a strange delay.

  When I searched for Sparks, she had stopped flying and dropped to the ground before me.

  “Sparks,” I said, gathering her in my palm. “Are you alright?”

  Her tough little frame shook once before she gave me a thumbs up.

  “You both need my protection, as my father said,” Nefa said. “I will teach you a saying to repeat in your mind. It will help build your psychic defenses. It does not grant full protection, but it does push his psychic claws beyond your reach. Now repeat after me. Ghil Ma Sa’raat,” she took my hands in hers.

  The phrase sounded funny at first, but the more I repeated it, the better I felt.

  Ghil Ma Sa’raat I repeated, and then a warm feeling enveloped me. Comforting and protecting me.

  I looked up into Nefa’s eyes and stared at the rich colors of red and burgundy swirling around.

  She smiled, realizing what she was doing, and snatched her hands back. “Your eyes are clear,” she said, rising, her tone flat. “Keep repeating the phrase, and you should be alright. For now, I’ll return to the entrance and wait for Jessa and my father.”

  She went back to her post, arms folded, feet tapping to some rhythm I could not place.

  While stealing glances at Nefa, the flap opened, and in came the trio we were waiting for. Jessa and Zeviir strode in composed, and behind them was Cashius, his hair matted to his head and his clothes in disarray.

  I stood on the floor, hands behind my back, standing alert.

  Jessa walked toward me, her robes billowing with each step, and stopped in front of me with Cashius and Zeviir in tow. Nefa stood at my side, her expression unreadable.

  “As you already know, your friend Cashius will not be available for this leg of the journey,” Jessa said. “Partly because of his age, and secondly because it is forbidden for more than one person to undergo The Covenant of Blades. Nefa will accompany you, showing you the path forward. Once there, it will be up to you to complete the arduous task. If you succeed, our spellcasters will perform the rites, and then you may face Linuux. If you fail, however, you will be banished from our encampment. Is this understood?”

  I nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” I said. “But can I ask a question before I’m off?”

  “Of course.”

  “What are these trials I’m supposed to do?”

  She laughed, her breath soft and light. “The trials at Fort Laishava are a course that will test your very being. To say more would not do them justice.” She pressed her hands together.

  That’s it, I thought. No explanation, no hints. Just some mystical-sounding mumbo jumbo.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay,” I said, my voice flat with disappointment.

  Nefa, Sparks, and I turned to leave, but Cashius grabbed my arm before rubbing a hand through his knotty hair. “Listen to me, Lamont. I know you do not trust me the way you used to, but if I break the oath I took as your guide, I am a dead man,” he muttered. “Because of that, I cannot apologize for looking out for my own skin. But know this, boneheaded boy. I will never sacrifice you or pull some underhanded nonsense on you ever again.” His voice cracked, and tears welled in his eyes. “If you can find it in your heart to spare some sympathy for an old man, please do so… and good luck.”

  The silence that followed was deafening.

  To keep from shedding a tear, I had to say something.

  “Okay, old man… I’ll give it some thought,” I said, with the biggest frog lodged in my throat.

  After that, the three of us turned and left the tent to find the location of the trials.

  Each step I took pressed heavier than the last, the desert air already feeling thicker, as if the land itself knew what was coming. Let’s hope, I would pass and return as an honorary member of the tribe, with their blessing at my back.

  But if I failed, there would be no blessing, no revealed path, no second chances. Without the Flish’ar, my hopes of reaching the Nameless One would plunge, and Cashius’s chances of getting me back home would become far more difficult.