Covenant of Shadows

The companions

The blazing sun didn't give Clythia and her companions a moment's respite as its rays pounded on their heads the second their feet vaulted onto the unmistakable sand of Island Nyat.

A servant approached Clythia, carrying a parasol, easing the stinging from her scalp.

Everyone was taking in their surroundings, some of them pointing at the upright monoliths a few feet away, before multiple soft grindings of sand snagged their attention.

Glythia was approaching them, his companions trailing behind, not that far in number from Clythia's. They were carrying sacks, water skins, and canteens wobbling at their sides, taking in their environment and staring at Clythia and her companions with weariness, gobbling them up from head to toe—as if they were strange creatures that had dropped from the skies.

The Prime's figure looked less formidable, with no shadow or looming darkness present to exaggerate his mountainous body since it was noon. He was wearing a tunic garbed with leather and a blond sash wrapped around his waist. The choice of attire was the same for his men and women, save for his guards, who were wearing bronze armor—a cheap shot.

The balmy air was enhancing the sharp, salty stench of the sea, sending nausea to flip her stomach.

As Glythia neared, her chin angled upward, his height towering over her, his loose blonde hair like a dancing white flame swayed by the rhythm of the wind.

"It's good to see you," his face split into a broad smile.

"Likewise," Clythia gave him a forced grin. "We need to get going." A strong whoosh of wind, heavy with salt, forced its way through her nostrils. She forced down a bile, covering her mouth.

"Are you all right? You're turning green," the Prime peered at her. "You have been here before, though."

"I know that," she snapped. "The heat and salt are not an appealing combination." A huff left her throat. "We have been here when it was dark and the air cooler. Do I need to point out the obvious?"

"You have to brace yourself then," his eyebrows shot up in amusement. "The ocean is the only thing we will see before Nadir."

"Cocky bastard," Clythia muttered, well aware his canine ears had caught on the insult.

He didn't seem to mind, his gaze shifting to the horizon. "Morven will be arriving soon."

"He is late. Why do we have to wait for him? I'm sure he will find his way to Nadir on his own."

"Morven has the fastest ship in all of Zyvern," the Prime's eyes swept over Clythia's companions. "And I don't see any sign of a ship from you." He tilted his chin at her. "Any sign of anything... Where is your packing?"

Clythia lifted her fist, showing the bead on an orange ring that was hugging her middle finger. "It's in here." The Prime's scouring eyes noted the same ring on the fingers of the arcane travelers. "Including the ship we are going to travel with. So, I say we go. Now."

Surprise lit the Prime's face. "I'm impressed with your very efficient method of packing. But how fast does your ship travel?"

"Like any other fast ship," Clythia shrugged.

"It will take us three to five weeks to reach Nadir with an ordinary ship. But with Morven's, we will arrive in less than two days."

Clythia was very displeased by the information. "And why is his special? Does he have a magic to make it fast? Because we can do that too."

"Yes, I trust in your abilities, but sailing a ship with unnatural speed will require constant use of magic. I know a thing or two about that. And we know its consequences." He grinned at her, a contrast to the sorrow twinkling in his blue eyes. "Morven's ship relies on a different ability beyond magic. You can ask him when he arrives. You know how he likes galivanting around the skies; I think he got it from his adventures."