The Dragon's Call

Chapter VI - The Desert City

We reach Aldahar just in time, as the last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon, leaving the desert cloaked in deepening shades of twilight. The journey through the vast, barren landscape had felt endless, the harsh sun beating down on us all day, and the relief of seeing the city's walls rising in the distance is almost overwhelming.

The city's fortifying wall stretches high into the sky. Its surface, weathered by centuries of wind and sand, is a testament to the resilience of this place, a city that has stood strong against both man and nature– at least, that's what my books say. Here, they don't worship the Dragon of power, like the people back in Rykren. The Dragon of Sadya is the Dragon of Luck- of fire and fortune. I met a Sadyan- quite a few years ago- that came to visit my father for legal affairs. The only thing I remember about him is a strange accent- gutteral and somewhat harsh yet broken up by smooth vowels. Matching with the trader we passed

The gatesto the town, massive and imposing, creak open as we approach, and the guards stationed there give us a cursory glance before waving us through, clearly recognizing Dr. Rockbrow's authority.

The instant we cross the threshold into the city, I'm struck by how different Aldahar is from anything I've ever known. The cool, dry night air inside the walls carries a scent that's foreign to me—a mixture of spices, ash, and ancient stone. My breath catches in my throat as I take in the scene before me, a world so unlike the towns of Rykre with their familiar wooden buildings and bustling markets.

Here, there are no plants.

Here, nothing bends towards me from walking near it. Nothing feels like it wants to crawl inside my skin.

The buildings are constructed from sandstone, their smooth, pale surfaces glowing faintly in the moonlight. Each structure is low and flat-roofed, a practical design to withstand the desert's harsh winds and relentless sun. They huddle close together, connected by a labyrinth of sandy streets and alleyways that seem to wind and twist in every direction.

As we move further into Aldahar, I notice that the streets are unusually quiet. The market stalls that line the main thoroughfare are mostly empty, the merchants packing up their wares for the night. A few linger, their voices low as they negotiate last-minute deals with the few remaining customers. My brow furrows, my head tilting slightly. Unusual. I remember reading about Sadya- about the unmatched bustling energy, even late at night. Is this related to the creatures the trader warned us of? Have they been spotted too close to the city?

The stalls are empty, but still colorful, draped with fabrics of deep reds, blues, and golds- albeit, the vibrancy feels muted in the fading light. A breeze picks up, carrying with it the scent of roasted meats, and, more strongly, ash, from a nearby vendor, mingling with the rich aroma of spices. I catch glimpses of the goods on display as we pass—a dazzling array of colorful fabrics, intricately woven rugs, and delicate jewelry that sparkles in the soft light of hanging lanterns. But there's a tension in the air, a sense of urgency as the last few shoppers and merchants hurry to finish their business before night fully falls.

We find an inn near the center of the city, a modest establishment that seems to blend seamlessly with the surrounding buildings. Its walls are the same sandy hue as everything else in Aldahar, and the wooden door is adorned with a simple, hand-carved pattern. The innkeeper, a stout man with a weathered face and kind eyes, greets us as we enter, his movements slow and deliberate as if weighed down by the day's work.

Inside, the inn is cool and dimly lit, much like the rest of the desert at night. The walls are bare, save for a few simple tapestries that add a touch of warmth to the otherwise stark interior. The air is filled heavily with of incense, presumably to cover up the everlasting scent of smoke in the kingdom. The floors are covered in woven rugs, their patterns almost mesmerizing in the low light.