II - Sigh of Smoke

Chapter 16 - A Game for the Wicked

-Menaleen-

Her hood hung low over her face, her lips held tight together as the cart rocked against the uneven ground. The dark cloth provided shade from the overbearing sun, and although it made her sweat, it was far better than being in the immediate glare of heat. Shifting over to the side, closer to the edge of the cart, she threw a glance at the piles of wrapped objects next to her. The driver of the cart told her that as long as she didn't touch nor steal any of his merchandise, he would allow her to ride along.

It was a simple agreement, but it was as if the man had eyes on the back of his head, thus she could not even chance a peek inside the cloths to see what he could possibly be selling. Deciding it was none of her business, and to quell her curiousity, she looked away.

In the distance she could see the deep crevasse in the ground that divided Zarkarian land and the Zarkarian capital. In fact, people believed what was within Zarkarian walls was all what Zarkarath was. It was a mere thought to keep up the belief that what was ours was ours and no one else's. It was said the King believed in it as well, that the walls kept out the Outlands and all the other enemies North of his borders. 

Menaleen knew though that Zarkarian land was dry and dusty, and whatever held that state belonged to the South. 

She never thought it was fair, considering Entheria was a kingdom rich in earth and variety in fruits and vegetables. They had more accessible springs and lakes. Zarkarath fed off of wells and the main pond at the edge of its walls. What food was transported was from wild hunting trips or through suspicious trading with Entheria. 

If things were peaceful perhaps living would be much easier.

Though that wouldn't help hold up the reputation that Zarkarath was known for some of the best warriors and assassins in the continent.

Reaching up to tug a threaded fang necklace around her neck, she thought about her brother, Harra. He was reluctant to see her go, his eyes bright with worry and his mouth sad. She never told him about the strange man she served who had given her stolen money, and she never mentioned that she returned the coins to the original owner and had to work tougher shifts to earn enough for his training.

If he had known of how hard she worked, he would have never gone to train under Master Roga, and made her keep her earnings so he could work himself. Knowing how much she suffered held him back, and she knew that.

Leaving him in Zarkarath was never part of her choice.

The cart lurched and she caught herself, grabbing onto the edge of the wood. The man driving the cart called back at her.

"You alright there, lady?"

Menaleen raised her head, "yes! I'm fine." As she steadied herself the man continued to speak.

"Have you heard of the bounty?" 

She froze for a second. "The one on the Dragon Blessed?"

"Yeah, that one." The man pondered for a second before saying, "I heard it's been raised. Are you one of thems whose gonna go after the rumour?"

"Which rumour would that be? There are a lot of rumours about the Dragon Blessed."

The man laughed. "Lots of Zarkarians are going to the Arena today to see if it's true. Rumour has it that one of the Dragon Blessed is being sold at the Arena, and they're there to kill 'em."

Menaleen could feel her heart beating faster. If she was going to retrieve the Dragon Blessed, she wasn't the only one, and she certainly had competition. She, herself, was not a great competitor either.