The sun was a hammer, and the land was its anvil.

  Golden dunes stretched forever, carved into curling waves that shimmered like molten glass. In the distance, sandstone towers pierced the skyline like spears from the earth, domes gleaming beneath the midday blaze. Palm trees flickered at the edge of oasis pockets, and the air carried hints of spice, salt, and dry heat.

  This was the Elven Kingdom. This was the desert.

  And Rell hated it.

  [Rell’s Thought]

  “Hot. Dry. Sand everywhere. No shade. No trees. No vines. No river. Just… dry.”

  He kicked a puff of sand and scowled. His broken voice rumbled low.

  “Sand soft…shade.. sucks”

  “You mumblin’ again?” Thessia asked, her arm shielding her brow under a tan headwrap.

  Rell glanced over, half-smirking.

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  “Me no mumble.. complain loudly”

  “There no bugs here like the jungle,” she teased.

  “Bug no bad .. scorpions .. suck”

  Behind them, Neyxa adjusted her half-veil. She looked at Thessia.

  “What’d he say?” Thessia asked, eyeing Neyxa.

  “He said sand makes him cranky,” Neyxa replied dryly, already used to the rhythm.

  “Huh. Still sounds like noise to me.”

  Rell kept walking but rolled his eyes.

  [Rell’s Thought]

  “Ok so normal people get the broken dialect when I talk but if someone’s cursed or blessed their basically talking to my soul so they can understand me clearly?, that’s gonna be a trippy situation for real”

  The caravan creaked along behind them — desert gliders pulled by sunwalkers, broad reptiles with claws like snowshoes. The wind tugged at every exposed edge, flicking sand up their legs and into their mouths.

  Rell sat cross-legged atop a crate near one of the kids — Lirah, the only elf girl Rell actually remembered. She clutched a charm made of vine-wrapped crystal.

  “They say we’re goin’ home,” she whispered.

  Rell nodded.

  “Close, yeah.”

  “But… what if they don’t want us anymore?”

  He looked ahead, jaw set.

  [Rell’s Thought]

  “Kids talk same… in both worlds. Fearin’ rejection. Grown folk good at pretendin’ things normal after bein’ hurt.”

  He placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Then deal.. with me”

  She blinked. Then giggled.

  “You mean that in a good way?”

  “Maybe.”

  The landscape shifted the closer they got to the capital.

  Massive irrigation canals sliced through the sand like veins, and merchants with glowing tattoos sold icefruit and wind-blown silks under massive shaded arches. The air smelled like rosewater and hot metal.

  Their caravan finally reached the outer gate — a wall of bleached stone, guarded by elven sentries in veiled helms and gold-etched chestplates.

  One of them stepped forward.

  “You stand at the gates of Alzharan, Jewel of the Sands. State your origin and purpose.”

  Rell looked at Thessia.

  “Lemme guess. No smile. No hug. Just suspicion.”

  She grinned.

  “Yup.”

  As they passed beneath the arches and into the capital proper, Rell leaned toward Thessia and muttered:

  “Still hate sand.”

  She laughed and punched his arm lightly.

  “Noted.”

  Chapter End.