1217-09-04
Gold Haoai:
We have been kept in the wedge city for some time. The guards treat us well, almost too well. We eat what we want, drink what we want, live in warmth without restraint. Part of me feels guilty leaving the rest of our people in Nor, shivering in the cold. I am warm, so warm it feels unnatural. My body struggles to adjust to the temperature. It feels like only yesterday I was trapped on that awful boat.
That is what Nor does. It breaks you. It changes you down to your bones. I have never heard of another land like it, a place where citizens, generals, and soldiers are stripped of everything and reduced to survivors trapped in ice.
The cold follows us wherever we go. Over the last few days my stomach turns and sickness lingers. The guards care for us, yet I wonder how we will ever trade when we can barely leave our frozen island.
I hold Norah close. She remains cold, almost unnaturally so. She was not born in Nor, yet she adapts faster than any of us. She is like ice that never cracks, never weakens. Like a usurper, she takes what is hers and endures. I wish I could adapt as quickly as she does. I wish I could be strong like her.
She won't remember the pain. She is only a child. She will never know what it cost to walk through the snow.
I come here for a reason, one only I can know. Horus, the sun dragon. Since essence is born from the blood of dragons, he could be used to light our cities, to turn a frozen wasteland into a place where civilization can live.
I look into my daughter's eyes. Pure white. A world stolen from her. A crown built on lies.
Part of me wishes she were different, wishes she had been born elsewhere, somewhere Milton would have accepted her. I would die so she could live. I push the thought away. I refuse to live in a world without her, even if it costs me my life.
The grey clay walls around us are unfamiliar. Inside, everything is warm and softly lit. Day and night blending together until time loses meaning.
Knock. Knock.
The sky seems to brighten although the moon begins to descend.
"You have a visitor," the guard says, his voice rough and distant.
We are led from our rooms. Books and Leader shield their eyes. Helm seems used to this by now.
Dara stretches as if she just woke up.
Standing before us is a woman I have only heard of in whispers. The ruler of the only other tier one nation besides Elanor. Queen of Sha'tar. Conqueror of the Seven Kings.
Tamara. Empress Tamara.
She has long braided hair that catches the wind, a gold cloak billowing behind her. Her robes are white and gold, glowing softly beneath the moonlight. She wears no armor. She does not need it. Inside Sha'tar, she is untouchable.
Because of Horus.
The dragon of the Sun looms behind her, vast and overwhelming. His gaze pierces through me. I feel myself shiver, yet I can't look away. Tamara's eyes are just as powerful, almost more intense than the dragon itself.
It is said that Horus is so powerful that meeting his eyes causes blindness. That he can summon heat so intense the desert grows quiet at night. That he can detect enemies from hundreds of thousands of meters away. Those blessed by Horus have unnatural golden eyes. Golden eyes that are only even seen in one other location in Enorth.
They say he remembers everything he has ever seen, and that Horus and Tamara share the same memories.
Of every dragon in the world, aside from the time dragons, Horus stands above them all.
"Welcome," she says. "Welcome to Sha'tar."
We bow. Horus lowers his head and exhales, sniffing us as if measuring our very essence. His breath is hot, unlike anything I have ever felt, even in Marano.
"Rise," Tamara says.
We obey at once.
"My soldiers have given me a summary of what has occurred," she continues. "I am interested in speaking about an alliance with Nor. But not here. This is a military city."
She gestures toward the horizon.
"Let me show you the best Sha'tar has to offer."
She does not question our presence. She does not doubt us. She treats us as equals.
"Thank you," I say. "We bring ance. I believe you will find it useful."
Tamara smiles. "Why not ride with me?"
She pauses, as if waiting.
"Gold," I say. "Gold Haoai."
"You carry your name well," Tamara replies. "I look forward to meeting your son in the future."
"Son?" I ask.
Tamara steps closer.
I try to pull Norah back, but I can't move. Not from fear, but from Horus. His presence pins me in place, heavy and unyielding.
Her eyes flick down to my child.
And for the first time, something sharp passes through her gaze.
"You have a wonderful daughter," Tamara says. "She will be very powerful. White hair in Sha'tar is a symbol of perseverance. Many of us dye our hair white."
"Thank you," I say. "Empress Tamara."
"Why don't you ride with me?" Tamara says as Horus lowers himself beside us.
Five other dragons wait nearby, each with a rider. Desert dragons. Unlike sea dragons, they can fly. Slower than wind dragons, faster than ice dragons.
Horus lies down, allowing Tamara and me to climb onto his back. He lets out a soft sound that wakes Norah. She doesn't cry. If anything, she seems to enjoy it. She coos in my hands as I rock her gently.
Horus lifts off almost instantly. The other dragons rise with him, moving in formation.
"I won't go too fast," Tamara says. "I don't want her to get hurt."
"Thank you," I say again. "I promise we will give you a fair deal of essence."
"No need to be formal," she says. "Call me Tama."
"Tama," I repeat, tasting the name. "May I say something?"
"Of course," she replies, the wind tugging at her braids. I notice a tattoo behind her ear, a single wing inside a circle.
"We have little to offer," I say. "We aren't a strong country. We are struggling to stay warm. You have no reason to ally with us beyond our stockpile of essence. You could attack us and take it."
"I would never do that," Tamara says without hesitation. "I understand what it means to struggle, to be alone, to have nothing. Before Horus chose me, Sha'tar was a harsh wasteland, not unlike Nor. I promise your country will survive and that our relations will be built on trust."
"But why?" I ask. "What do you gain?"
"There is a future conflict," she says. "When that time comes, I will need allies. Despite our power, we have none. You would be our first."
Time passes quickly atop Horus, though he flies slowly enough not to disturb Norah. Below us stretches a massive city split by a river.
Sha'tar.
From above, it is beautiful. High sandstone walls. Broad streets. Buildings carved from stone and crystal. People look like ants from this height.
They move through markets and trade paths in endless motion.
Horus lets out a loud roar as we approach. Tamara's gaze sharpens, fixed on something I can't see.
We descend near the top of a massive castle built from sandstone and gems. Light reflects off its surface. The gems cast colors across the streets. A gigantic brown bell hangs at the center of the citadel.
We dismount. I bow once more as Tamara turns to leave.
Helm can't seem to take his eyes off her, almost as if they have met before. I'm sure their paths crossed many times, but this feels different. His expression is pained, and he remains unusually quiet. More so than I have ever known him to be.
"Get some rest," she says. "Walk the city sands. Tomorrow, we will discuss our alliance."
Horus slowly flaps upward, heading back toward the city as three dragon riders follow.
"That was quick," Dara says, a small smile on her face.
"She is a busy woman," Leader says. Books watches the dragons disappear into the distance.
"What did she say?" Books asks.
"Tama wants to ally with us," I reply.
"But why?" Dara asks.
"An upcoming conflict," I say. "That is all she told me."
A guard clears his throat, drawing our attention. "Follow me," he says. "I will show you where you can sleep. After that, you are free to explore."