POV: Greg
"Listen, where are we even dragging ourselves to?" I asked, shaking another handful of forest debris out of my boots.
"To the Sultanate," Secret cut in.
I stopped.
"Why don't we just teleport? At this rate, we'll be walking for another year. My legs aren't expendable."
She hesitated, looking down at her boots.
"I... I don't know where it is. There are no exact coordinates in this vessel."
I rolled my eyes. Seriously? We had been trudging through the bushes all this time just because my personal Demon of Oblivion was a terrible navigator?
I simply touched her shoulder.
SNAP.
We found ourselves at a bird's-eye view. Beneath our feet was the soft white cotton of clouds. Secret immediately began to tip to the side, panicking as she tried to find footing. I had to grab her elbow so she wouldn't go into freefall.
"Alright," I shielded my eyes from the bright light. "We need the Sultanate. The main landmark is sand. A lot of sand."
We looked around. There were only endless forests and mountains. Not a hint of yellow on the horizon.
"Hey, Secret, which way is east?"
"Where the sun rises," she muttered, gripping my arm with a death grip.
SNAP. SNAP. SNAP.
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A series of short jumps. The world flickered before my eyes like broken film. And finally, on the edge of the world, a rusty streak appeared. Sand.
SNAP.
We landed. The heat hit my face like a red-hot iron. Secret squatted down, letting the sand slip through her fingers.
"Interesting..." she whispered. "A completely different texture."
I took a step and froze.
Reality suddenly jerked and blurred. Instead of empty dunes, a massive military camp rose before me. Tents, banners, the smell of burning and sweat.
"Arkgrim!" a cheerful male voice called out. "Come over here, sit by the fire!"
I turned around. Dozens of beings were sitting around the fire. Warriors. But I couldn't see their faces—only blurry spots. What color were their eyes? What about their hair? Who were they?! Why did I know all their names, but couldn't remember a single one?
"Why did you freeze?" Secret's voice pulled me out of the trance.
I blinked. The camp was gone.
"Everything... everything is fine. I'm coming," I muttered.
An hour later, I remembered why I hated deserts so much. Sand in my underwear, the sun blinding me, feeling thirsty every five minutes. To keep from frying completely, I conjured a small personal raincloud over our heads, which obediently floated along with us, providing shade.
"And where to now?" I asked.
She turned to me and answered honestly:
"I don't know."
"Perfect."
"What are we even looking for? Is there a goal other than taking a stroll through an oven?"
"I was told," Aurora frowned, "that the last bastion of magic teaching remains here."
'Strange,' I thought. 'Isn't magic taught everywhere?'
Though... what year is it? What era? I looked down at my hands. Memory was slipping me blank pages again. Whatever.
I stopped and motioned for her to freeze.
"Alright. I remembered something important."
I sharply tore at my pant leg, ripping off a long piece of fabric. I folded it into several layers and tied it tightly over my eyes.
"What's that for?" Secret asked in surprise. "Did you decide to practice blind walking?"
"If anyone asks, tell them I'm blind. Or a grandmaster training this way."
"But why?!"
"In the Sultanate... they have a very specific attitude towards those with different colored eyes. I don't want unnecessary problems or pilgrimages to my humble person. Too much attention is bad for sleep."
She looked at my blindfold in puzzlement, shrugged, and walked on. We periodically created water from the air because the wells we passed were empty.
Strange. Before, they were always full to the brim. Clean, ice-cold water...
'But when was "before"?' the question pricked at me.
"Aaaargh!" I shook my head. "Fewer questions, Zenkhald. Fewer questions mean better sleep."

