Wind blew across the desert as moonlight turned hundreds of dunes into alabaster hills and valleys of sand. Cacti grew sporadically and housed various life forms from the tiniest insect to the birds and reptiles that preyed on them. A hulking rock outcropping played host to an extended family of miniscule rodents, but these were currently hiding deep within their den due to the new arrivals camped beneath the stone this night.
A caravan of travelers had arrived well after dark and set up camp by the light of the full moon. They had made a circular camp with modest brown and tan tents forming a perimeter and a handful of elaborate yellow tents inside. The animals were safely corralled and allowed a modicum of free reign for the night. Fires had been created with great care to keep them hidden but the smell of food wafted between the tents and across the nearest dunes as the night wind danced between tents and fanned the flames.
A single brown lizard tilted its head and peered down on the encampment with an enormous eye. It paused atop the sand worn stone as the noise disturbed its nighttime hunt for a meal. After a few seconds of warily watching the encampment, the reptile scurried off into the shadows in search of quieter hunting grounds. Below, the people in the caravan were sitting down to their own dinners.
Most were plainly dressed in muted colors, made to blend in with the desert surrounding them. Walking between them silently was a woman similarly dressed in a long brown and tan robe that covered her from her shoulders to her well-worn leather boots. A thin rope cord held the robe closed at her waist and the ends dangled loosely to her knees. The hood of the robe was pushed back to expose her tan face and her red hair was pulled to the top of her head. Two long curls of hair were allowed to fall free, framing her face.
The woman picked up a plate from one of the campfires, saying a few words of thanks to the man who had prepared it, and proceeded to the center yellow tent. The sound of shifting canvas accompanied her as she lifted a tent flap and entered the dimly lit enclosure. She placed the plate on a small wooden table that had been unfolded specifically for this purpose and surveyed the tent out of habit. The floor was the same yellow color as the rest of the tent and aside from a few chests and the table holding the plate of food the area was almost empty. Almost, except for a figure sleeping curled up on a bed of large pillows and down filled blankets. The woman walked over to this and crouched, resting a hand on the blankets.
“Princess Mia,” she whispered. “Princess, your dinner is here.” The mound of blankets and pillows shifted, and a muffled groan came from underneath. “Please get up Princess,” the woman urged, getting to her feet.
“Bring it to me Fifi,” said a sleepy voice as the blankets were flung back and a bleary-eyed girl of sixteen sat up yawning. The woman grimaced at the nickname but complied. The princess was fussing at the tangled mass of blond hair the steaming plate of food was placed in front of her.
“What is that?” she wrinkled her nose in distaste, eying the plate of food. The red-haired woman kneeled before the princess wearily, still holding the plate.
“Your highness must we go through this every night?” she asked, producing a fork and moving around the grilled meat pieces that had been specifically pre-cut for the princess. She speared the plumpest piece and held the fork out to the princess patiently.
“I don’t see how I’m expected to eat such filth,” the girl said, crossing her arms stubbornly and lifting up her nose at the proffered food.
“It is not filth Princess Mia,” the woman said with tolerance born from years of serving the princess. She had in fact cared for the princess since the girl had been merely a baby, personally seeing to most of the princess’s tutelage in everything from etiquette to sword fighting. Despite all this the princess still had very little respect for the older woman or anyone else for that matter. Princess Mia had been spoiled before she even left the crib and every whim had been granted no matter how absurd. The one rule that had been imposed on the young princess was that no matter where she went, her guardian must accompany her. For this reason, Princess Mia made life miserable for the older woman whenever possible just as she was now.
“It is too,” the princess insisted vehemently. “I refuse to eat that mess. Go get me something different immediately,” she ordered.
Her guardian sighed and got to her feet. “As you wish princess,” she bowed and exited the tent, welcoming the cool night air and taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. Every night for the past fortnight had been the same ever since their departure from the castle. It didn’t matter what she brought in first, the princess would always reject it and ask for something else. It didn’t matter if she brought in something the princess had eaten the night before or something new altogether. Princess Mia would lament about being forced to eat garbage and demand supper fit for a princess. It was difficult enough to prepare a decent meal in this setting, let alone one up to her standards. Often entire meals would be discarded because she claimed she saw a grain of sand on the plate.
Handing the untouched plate and fork to a man walking by on guard duty, the woman murmured an apology for interrupting his rounds. The soldier beamed at her broadly and was more than happy to take the food. He disappeared into the shadows with the forkful of juicy meat already in his mouth. She started to walk towards the campfires when she froze mid-step. She had heard something. In a fluid motion she sprinted to the rocky outcropping at the edge of camp and crouched on its summit.
Standing in the same spot as their lizard visitor earlier in the evening, she regarded the camp with an appraising eye before shifting her scrutiny to the rolling dunes of sand stretched on endlessly. At first, she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Then her eyes locked on a speck of movement, and she narrowed her eyes as she concentrated on the distant spot. The movement came again, and her brow furrowed. It had been a shifting of the moonlight on the top of a mound several dunes away, but it had been enough.
The woman leapt off the boulder and landed gracefully, leaving dimples in the sand as she ran. She had hoped this would not happen, but everyone knew there would be many dangers in crossing the Desherette Desert. At the top of the list was Dehbian and his army of marauders. He was a Fallen Prince of Solace and his power was nothing short of legendary. There were seven Princes of Solace now, where there had been nine in recent years. Dehbian had murdered one of the nine and fled to escape being harnessed.
In theory, the Princes of Solace could not be killed unless their power was stripped away and harnessed by one or more of the other Princes. Hundreds of years ago their sole duty had been to protect the lands under their care and guard against the three demons of the Red Tower. After centuries of warring against the minions of the demons the Princes of Solace had found a way to seal the demons in their tower and peace had reigned for many years. Lands had prospered and evolved. The Princes eventually succumbed to the regular ways of man and after many generations they forgot more and more of what the Demon War had been about. Now, they mainly concerned themselves with trying to increase their magical powers or develop branches that the others didn’t have, in an effort to always be above one another.
Something they had not forgotten was the importance of Amplifiers. An Amplifier was a person that could be used by the Princes to better channel their powers. Rumors said with the right Amplifier a Prince could increase his abilities as much as tenfold. The exact way they did this was not common knowledge, but all Amplifiers were promised a life of luxury so people would hoard around the Palace of Solace in hopes of being found to hold the right spark.
Dehbian had supposedly stripped every last bit of power from Prince Faulk and now held so much magical energy that he no longer needed amplifiers at all. Prince Faulk had been close to ninety years of age and had been the oldest of the Princes of Solace. Now, Dehbian, at only twenty-seven years old, had more power than over half the other Princes. He had escaped the Palace of Solace before the news of Faulk’s death had spread and taken refuge in the wilds of the Desherette, gathering an alarming number of followers despite falling from grace.
The Fallen Prince and his renegades had been at the forefront of concerns when the caravan had weighed its options, but expediency had taken precedence over caution and now they would have to pay the price. No doubt Dehbian had sent a squad to try and kidnap Princess Mia, hoping to use her as a bargaining chip. Her guardian pursed her lips in determination and swore that he would not lay a finger on the princess unless it was over her dead body.
She stopped long enough to speak a few words to the captain that had been assigned to the princess’s escort and the man leapt to his feet and hurried in the direction of the horses. She wanted to yell at everyone to warn them of the oncoming danger, but her purpose was to keep the princess safe.
When she burst into the tent with little preamble the princess huffed, expecting her dinner. Her guardian ignored her and instead opened a chest marked with a flame encircled by swirling leaves. Inside were a few of her personal belongings and a sack she had hoped would not have to be used. Grabbing the straps of the sack she pulled it from the chest and turned to the princess who had barely stirred from her position on the pillows.
“Fifi, what is the meaning of this?” Princess Mia was pulled to her feet by her guardian, spots of red coloring her cheeks. “How dare you burst in here without addressing me, and where is my dinner?”
The older girl thrust the bag into the princess’s hands and kicked open another chest that had a blossoming rose within a coronet on its top. She grabbed a thick cloak and threw it around the young princess’s shoulders buttoning the heavy cloak amidst a barrage of protests and questions. As she buttoned the second to last button the princess reached out and slapped her across the face.
She blinked, halting only briefly as the stinging pain subsided and left a red imprint on her cheek. She buttoned the last button and straightened. “Dehbian’s men are on their way here, Princess Mia,” she said by way of explanation. The red in the other girl’s face drained away and her face turned deathly white.
“What do you mean?” she asked, clutching the sack to her chest.
“You must leave now if you hope to escape,” her guardian answered as she heard a horse outside the tent. That would be Captain Carthien with the princess’s horse. “In that bag are some provisions and a change of clothing along with enough money to buy yourself passage to Lliness when you meet up with a caravan, if we don’t get to you before then.”
“If you don’t find me before then? What do you mean?” the princess repeated, her voice wavering fearfully. “Phoenix don’t you dare leave me. That’s an order!” she ended in a shrill shriek, finally using her guardian’s name. Phoenix ignored the order and pushed the princess gently but firmly out of the tent where she was picked up by the captain and placed securely in the saddle of her white stallion.
“I have higher orders, Princess Mia,” Phoenix said softly. “Whatever you do, don't stop heading east.” With that she slapped the rump of the gleaming stallion and the horse leapt into a gallop. Phoenix stared after the princess until the night swallowed her in its shadows. She had asked the captain to remove the horse’s reins so the princess could not stop the horse until he was done running of his own accord. The stallion had been specifically chosen for his speed and ability to maintain it for great lengths of time. Phoenix had packed a spare set of reigns in the sack she had given the princess just in case something like this happened, but she was not pleased that her plan had to be put into action. “Be safe Princess Mia,” she said before turning to face the captain, her face schooled into a mask of determination and confidence that belayed her words.
“Prepare the men Captain Carthein,” she said more confidently than she felt. “If Dehbian wants to play at making trouble, we will show him that we can give as much as we’re dealt.”
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