2412, Diori 04, Velpa

Rhys sniffed only to sneeze again. He rubbed his nose with his forefinger as he looked at the mass of thorny succulents littering the desert landscape. All the sand and dust from the past few days were getting into him. Was that alright? He never knew himself to be averse to particles but now that he had sneezed for the fifth time, he began to assess once again.

"So, what do we have?" he asked his companions who were all too snappy and dusty to regard him with complete attention. They were hunkered on one of Calca's numerous shrub lands with the sheer size of the bulbous arthress succulents providing an adequate cover for them.

Everywhere Rhys looked, the desert was peppered with countless patches of green which served as an indication they were nearing an oasis. Rightly so, too. A mere distance from their hiding place, past the sloping dune their shrub land was located in, lay Lanbridhr's royal capital. Rhys's throat itched for a drink from that large, serene pool of green water sparkling against the Calcan midday sun.

Yesterday was a blizzard of running, evading, and constantly looking behind their backs. Marthiaq had gotten them in relatively one piece to this particular patch of green in the midst of the desert, using every drop of his energy to make them all invisible. Now, the brownie was collapsed face-first on the sand with his cloak wrapped around his head to protect his face holes from the sand.

That left Rhys, June, and Xanthy to stay up all night. They braved the sudden cold that crept into the desert during the dark. What better use of that time other than planning?

Of course, Rhys had been to Calca once during a daring escape from one of the desert pirates plaguing the Arid Lands. Or that's what he liked to tell himself. The whole escapade finished with a half-dead aksaba with its legs splayed to the sky and a memorable trip to the spiky tirch tree's home. It had taken a week before Rhys was able to find all the thorns poking his flesh in all the uncomfortable places.

Rhys glanced balefully at the abundance of thorns around him. It took everything in him to remind himself to carry the weight of his back. Never ever lean against these thorny globes by accident.

Xanthy sniffed and then sneezed. Oh, was the sand getting to her as well? Or perhaps it's because of the never-ending cycle of sweating by day and getting blasted by biting winds at night. The Virtakios frowned when June offered her a piece of cloth from his never-ending supply inside his bag. "We got the fancy desert paradise ahead of us and the burning hellfire of a city behind," she answered Rhys's question while blowing her nose into the cloth. "Or are you looking for a more specific answer?"

Rhys heaved a sigh, his own nose itching for another sneeze. How come nobody offered him any cloth pieces when he sneezes? It's unfair. He was half-tempted to ask the half-blood for some as well but he shook his head. Focus.

"A more specific answer, really," he ignored his twisting stomach. He was hungry again. "What I mean is if there's any plan we could implement so we can get to the Lanbridhr palace in one piece, talk to the Heir about our plan, and if he does not oblige peacefully, drag him out of here while outrunning local Calcan security, Gligan security, and our dear mercenary friends."

Xanthy bobbed her head with her lips pressed in a thin line. Everything posed a challenge for their mission. Unlike Nyxis's goal, the heirs weren't exactly a random piece of upholstery that they could steal or lug around. These were real people. They would have their own to protect. They have lives. Ripping them from that with the lame excuse of going to war would not cut it. Unless Xanthy has a plan which could make the heirs ally themselves with them with just a word, they're as good as sitting fowls waiting to be hunted.

Or in their present circumstance, be exploded in a thousand, mini pieces of themselves.

"We could sneak in undetected with Marthiaq's ability when he wakes up," Xanthy rocked while sitting cross-legged. "Then use it some more to sneak into the Palace. As for convincing the heir, if we ever find him, leave that to me."

"Not to cast a shadow to your rays," June scratched his head and at least a cup of sand particles fell from it. "But how exactly are you going to do that?"

Xanthy inclined her head somewhere west. "We promise to help quench the fires."

Rhys knitted his eyebrows. "Fires? That's all?"

"Yeah," Xanthy waved her hand, cutting the conversation short. "Have we figured out where the Palace was?"

"Got you covered on that," June piped up. He moved to rummage around his bag for a few seconds. He brandished a rolled piece of parchment with a smile. "Last night's spying efforts weren't in vain."

Rhys raised an eyebrow. He had to give the half-blood credit. June got out of Calca's tight city security without so much as a scratch on him. When Rhys was last here...he cleared his throat free of sand that might have made it inside his mouth. "So...let me get this straight," he scratched his temples. "We glide inside invisible and get out. Just like that?"

Xanthy nodded again. Rhys could tell this wasn't her strong suit judging from the way her eyebrows knit either from confusion or being overwhelmed. "That's the gist," her voice was clipped. "Other than that, we make do. As will the case be if we encounter the mercenaries or if the security decides to vaporize us on the spot. Our goal is to get me into the palace and into where the fire sprite heir is."

"That makes sense," Rhys pursed his lips even though his mind was rejecting everything Xanthy was saying. Having no plan was the equivalent of being torched alive in this mission. "So tonight?"

Xanthy met his eyes, brown against amber. "Tonight," she said.

It turned out the moment they snapped awake from their quick, afternoon rest, the oasis had started burning. Rhys rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times, becoming more and more aware of the fact that he was awake and wasn't still dreaming. "Xanthy, are you seeing this?" Rhys turned the Virtakios who frowned at the growing inferno like it was an annoying flower-child.

"Clear as day," she said. "Are we ready to go?"

Rhys blinked. "Go?" he repeated as if the first time Xanthy said it didn't make sense. "Now?"

To his horror, the Virtakios turned her attention to the oasis city. "We take advantage of the confusion," she started gathering their things. She slung her bow across her torso as she picked herself up. "We go straight through."

Rhys instinctively glanced at his wings spread out behind him on the sand. He imagined them burning and winced. "How did the forest even burn that fast while we're asleep?"

"Wind," Marthiaq groaned as he sat up. Rhys flinched. He had quite forgotten the brownie was there. Gods. "One draft carried an ember from Gligan and now we're here."

Rhys bit the inside of his cheek. One ember? That's too much of a coincidence. If there was wind, why was there only one ember? Why not a whole legion of them? Besides, after running along for miles from Gligan, how in Umazure did that ember still have a lot of fuel going to start a wildfire in Calca?

"Still, I agree with Xanthy," Marthiaq rubbed his face and stretched as if there wasn't a looming desert fire slowly coming for them. "Our best chance of making it past city security is now."

Rhys tried to not make opposition show in his face. "Alright," he said. "How do we emerge from here without appearing suspicious?"

"Got you covered on that again," June raised his hand that was already covered in flames.

Rhys didn't need a mirror to tell his face paled. Oh, gods.