As a desert dweller with no possibility to earn a place within the Akademiya, you had to adapt to the life of mercenaries in order to earn the mora you needed to make a living.
But when you caught wind of the grand treasure hidden inside the ruins o...
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
MAY YOU BE PRAISED BY THE GODS
Then came the scribe of all scribes' turn.
And so did the Ibis King speak with wise words.
"The divine punishment of a thousand years past brought the downfall of wisdom and history. For a better future, Your Majesty, you should take control of the past. The present oases hold the wisdom of the present, but if we are to seize the past, we must act swiftly".
From one of the highest open windows, away from colourful curtains, sat the Jinn, a hand underneath her chin, golden downturned irises looking at the desert and the turbid line of the horizon hidden by clouds of dust.
Sighing to herself, she leaned her head to the wall, eyes fluttered, closing in tranquil slumber.
But then the winds stilled and with them the jingling of the bells attached to the wall.
She groaned, eyes fluttering open from distaste and rose from her position, silky robes dancing behind.
The familiar hallways held by tall and strong pillars greeted her sight as she nonchalantly walked with purposefully slow steps. Servants hurried around her, mindful to keep their distance -lest they anger her too- and scrambled towards the source of incessant screaming.
When she finally arrived at the source of her woe, she recognized the young high priestess pulling her hair, painted golden lips parted in both silent and loud screams.
"Everything- everything-" she clutched her head, bowing down, smeared red paint around eyes impossibly wide as she muttered incoherent words.
