Fear's Union

Prologue

Cris tried focussing on his surroundings, but it was tedious. There was nothing to look at. Quite literally. Just an endless panorama of uniformity. Parched earth, skeletal scrub, and not a lot else. Even the horizon was boring. Flat and blank. He exhaled, and did it noisily. It was intentional.

His riding partner turned to him and he smiled. The prospect of some conversation piqued his interest, but it was short-lived. The other man just turned away. He always did. Damn it. The silence stretched, like the plains about them.

"Where are we?"

It was a stupid question because he knew the answer, but that wasn't the point. He wanted to talk, he wanted human interaction, and he wanted to get to know...

Was he stupid to think that this man would take him seriously? He had pleaded for the chance to come on this once in a lifetime opportunity, but he was rapidly regretting the decision. He had expected to learn so much from this mandahoi, but the man just ignored him. No, he didn't just ignore him. The mandahoi looked at him like he was muck. And that wasn't fair. He wasn't just muck.

"Aleña."

That got his attention. The mandahoi's head swung smoothly round, and those hawk-like eyes cut right across him. He gulped. And then he furrowed his brow, grimacing. He could never scare this man, but he would at least stand his ground.

"We are crossing the Wastes of Mikaeta."

And then the git turned away once more. End of conversation. He was on the verge of crying out in frustration, but the natural order of authority stopped him. Aleña was in charge, and he was therefore fortunate. This was an opportunity. That was just the way of it.

The mandahoi continued to ignore him, apparently unconcerned for his mood. Silence won over, and the two travellers trekked on in infuriating silence. In the absence of conversation, his mind wandered to some dark places.

Until his stomach clawed at his boredom. Mother Bright was much higher in the sky, which meant it was close to noon. Soon it would be time to find shelter from the day's heat, but first they would eat. It would probably be the highlight of the day.

They started with a rock-hard cheese on claggy bread, and followed it with a stone-like biscuit. And that was all washed down with heavily watered wine. It was meagre, but it was still the highlight of the day. Why had he come? Ah yes.

"Why did you ask for a companion on this adventure?"

The mandahoi looked at him with those eyes once more; they really were hawk-like. They weren't yellow, but something about them gave a suggestion of gold. And the pupil seemed stretched too. He had removed the polished hawk's mask for the meal, and his face was visible, which was rare for a mandahoi. Even his features seemed avian. There was a sharp but compact nose, small pointed mouth, and even a downy beard. It was a hawkish face. Perhaps owlish.

He looked at the razor-sharp weapons at the man's side and raised his eyebrows. Why would he permit such tawdry facial growth? He certainly had the tools to sort that out.

The mandahoi opened his mouth. That in itself was a rarity.

"I have told you this."

"Yes, yes, you need someone to independently verify that you're not mad."

"No-one believes me to be mad."

"Maybe not, but that's not the point. Why me? You have not said one voluntary word to me in more than a stretch of days. Damn it, I've even lost track of the days. Why invite someone along that you can't even stand?"