Lion Head Mesa basium

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Snow of all things—surreal only when they traversed the rest of the mountain and downward—and days later—the heat of summer, which became more unbearable come the desert they found themselves to.

He withheld a grimace as lush foliage and fresh flowers gave way to hardened shrub, brown-paint dirt and boulders. “Real fucking cozy,” he murmured quietly, more to Wren than anything.

Informed soon that sentries would be upon them, Akavir felt a hardening in his being—emotions masked carefully behind a trained outward appearance. And then—news that the Pharaoh Germanicus knew of was no longer a key player, and his features darkened briefly, a sharp gaze directed to the man. “And what does that mean, now?”

Was this sister much like the one who killed a father for power? Did she, too, feel the need to harbor those that passed as hers and admit them to slavery?