Beneath the Sun

Chapter 3 The Law of the Desert

Dawn broke over the town, casting a pale light on the streets below, as if trying to cleanse the remnants of the night's shadows. Jair rose from his bed, the echoes of a restless sleep clung to his mind like a persistent fog, each thought heavy with the weight of his pursuit. He quickly gathered his belongings and headed downstairs, the scent of stale ale and smoke still lingering in the tavern.

The tavern keeper gave him a nod as he passed. "Good luck with that bounty."

Jair returned the nod and stepped into the crisp morning air. The town was slowly waking up, merchants setting up their stalls and townsfolk beginning their day.

As Jair exited the lively tavern, he strolled through the vibrant market square, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the crowd. The air was filled with the shouts of vendors and the aroma of curry and paprika. He moved with purpose, his eyes scanning the stalls until he found what he was looking for—a seasoned trader with a line of camels tethered nearby.

The trader, he was lean with a sun-beaten face, noticed Jair's approach. "Looking for a ride, are you?" he asked, his voice rough from years in the desert sun.
Jair nodded. "I need a strong, reliable camel for a long journey."

The trader grinned, revealing a gap-toothed smile. "You've come to the right place. I've got just the one for you." He led Jair to a sturdy camel with a dark, sleek coat. "This here is Shamra. He's a bit of a handful, but he'll get you where you need to go."

Jair inspected the camel, noting its calm demeanor and strong build. "He looks solid. How much?"

The trader named his price, and after a brief negotiation, Jair handed over a pouch of coins. "Pleasure doing business with you," the trader said, patting Shamra's flank. "Take good care of him."

Jair nodded, leading Shmara away from the market. As he walked, he felt a sense of satisfaction. This camel would make his journey to the Twilight Grove much easier.

He made his way to the edge of town, where his target was rumored to be hiding. The old building he approached looked as though it had been abandoned for years. Jair moved cautiously, his senses on high alert. He pushed the door open, finding his target—a man who had connections with influential people in the kingdom—passed out on a makeshift bed, the stench of alcohol thick in the air.

Jair nudged the man with his boot, rousing him from his stupor. "Wake up," Jair growled.

The man's bleary eyes struggled to focus, mirroring the confusion of a world that seemed to spin further from clarity with every passing moment. "Who... who are you?"
"Doesn't matter," Jair said, crouching down to look him in the eye. "I need information. Tell me about Father."
The man blinked, his drunken mind trying to process the question. "Father? My father was a carpenter, built our house with his own hands. Good man, loved his ale too much, though."

Jair's eyes narrowed, searching for truth in a sea of drunken ramblings—a constant reminder that even in the quest for answers, deception was a relentless adversary."

The man laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Father? Never heard of him. But if you find him, tell him I said hi."
efore Jair could press further, the man's gaze sharpened, recognition dawning in his eyes. "Wait... you're a bounty hunter."

Jair's expression turned cold. "That's right."

The man tried to scramble away, but Jair was quicker. In one fluid motion, he bound and gagged the man with the detached precision of someone who had done this countless times before. Just as he was about to leave, a noise behind him caught his attention. He turned swiftly, his blade's eerie glow casting long shadows on the walls as two figures emerged from the dim recesses of the room, weapons drawn.

"Let him go," one of them commanded, his voice edged with false bravado. "You've got no business here."

Jair's eyes narrowed, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "I decide what my business is."

The first man sneered, his gaze flicking to Jair's bandaged arm. "What's with the arm, bounty hunter? Trying to hide that you're half a man? Shouldn't be too hard to take down a one-armed man."

The second man's eyes locked onto his sword, its runes now pulsing with a soft, ominous light. "That's a fancy blade you've got there... but I ain't scared of a cripple."

Jair's response was as swift and lethal as the blade he wielded. He lunged at the first attacker, his sword slicing through the air with a whispering hiss. The blade met flesh, parting it with an almost unnatural ease. The man's arm fell to the ground with a wet thud, followed by the man himself, clutching the stump in shock as blood pooled around him. Jair didn't pause; he brought the blade down again, this time through the man's chest, silencing him forever.

The second man faltered, fear creeping into his eyes as he took in the ruthlessness of Jair's attack. Jair stood, blood from the first man splattering his face and clothes, his eyes cold and unfeeling. The second man began to back away, his confidence evaporating into sheer terror as Jair slowly advanced toward him, the tip of his katana trailing a line of blood across the floor.

The man stumbled, falling onto his back as he tried to crawl away, his weapon forgotten in his panic. His breath came in ragged gasps, eyes wide with fear, as Jair closed the distance between them with measured, deliberate steps, like a predator toying with its prey. Covered in the first man's blood, Jair looked every bit the demon this man now saw him as—unstoppable, unrelenting.

"You asked about my arm," Jair said, his voice low and menacing, filled with a calm that belied the violence he had just unleashed. The man's eyes flicked to the bandaged limb, then back to Jair's face, terror rooting him to the spot.

Jair knelt down, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring the man's fear. He placed the blade's tip against the man's chest, the blade's glow casting an eerie light on his pale face.

"It's the least of your worries," Jair whispered, and with a controlled, steady force, he pushed the blade into the man's chest. The man's scream was cut short, replaced by a gurgling gasp as the blade pierced his heart, snuffing out his life with brutal finality.

Jair stood, the room now filled with nothing but the sound of his own breathing and the quiet dripping of blood from his sword's edge. He wiped the blade clean on the dead man's tunic, his face an unreadable mask. With a final glance around the blood-soaked room, he turned and walked back to where the bound man lay, still struggling weakly against his restraints. Without a word, Jair hoisted him over his shoulder, the weight barely slowing his stride as he headed toward the door.

Once outside, Jair roughly removed the gag, and the man immediately gasped for air. "Wait, wait!" he pleaded, his voice frantic. "We can make a deal. I have information, valuable information!"

Jair paused, his grip still firm on the man's bindings, his eyes cold and unreadable. "What kind of information?" he asked, his voice low and commanding, giving nothing away.
The man swallowed hard, his eyes darting around nervously. "I can tell you about the Sunborn and the Seraphic Priests, alright? But you have to promise you won't kill me."Jair's expression remained impassive. "You're not in a position to negotiate. Speak, and maybe I'll consider it."

The man licked his lips, his voice trembling. "The Sunborn and the Seraphic Priests aren't the same. The Sunborn follow the teachings of the first King Joash with reverence, seeking balance and wisdom. But the Seraphic Priests... they're different. They claim to follow Joash too, but they've twisted his teachings. Instead of spreading his knowledge, they seek to surpass him by seizing the power of the seraphs."

Jair's eyes narrowed. "Go on."

"The Seraphic Priests are crazed heretics," the man continued. "They believe they're destined to bring about a new era—one where they hold ultimate power through the seraphs. They're part of the Sunborn, but their..."

Suddenly, the sound of hooves clattering on the cobblestone street interrupted them. Jair turned to see a lone figure approaching on horseback, the setting sun casting a long shadow behind him. The rider dismounted smoothly, his boots hitting the ground with a thud. He walked toward them, his spurs jingling with each step.