Two massive three-story-high wooden doors swing open, propelled by the hands of two guards clad in heavy leather uniforms. The Remaining Podeshire, led by the two guards, steps into the marbled interior, followed closely by his companions. Their eyes widen, mouths agape, as their gazes land on the grandeur of the cathedral-like ceiling.

     The foyer stretches before the group, a long hall with a ceiling that seems to touch the heavens. Colourful gems and crystals paint the metal-white walls in rectangular and linear patterns. The marble floor gleams as it reflects the light pouring in through the numerous arched windows that grace the mighty walls. Lush evergreen and snake plants reside in decorative pots lining the hallways, offering a vibrant contrast to the chamber.

     Candles, suspended from wooden chandeliers that hang from the ceiling, cast a soft glow over every corner. A long wine-red carpet stretches down the hall, partially veiling the glistening marble floor. The scarlet rug leads to a dark door at the far end of the hall, illuminated by surrounding torches.

     The dark door swings open, striking the wall with a light impact and emitting a resounding snap. Oliver and his companions enter the room, filling the space with their presence. As they venture further into the centre of the room, they come to a sudden halt, and their breaths turn deep and steady as they take in the interior.

     The room stands before the group like a gilded chamber, its walls painted in a shimmering yellow hue adorned with contrasting blue linear patterns. In the room's centre lies a well with crystal-blue water, its stone foundation entwined with vines. Above, where the concave ceiling meets the dome from the outdoors, a pearl chandelier casts its luminous reflection on the water's surface. At the room's far end, a man reclines on a golden throne, cushioned with a vibrant red seat.

     The man possesses a black, neatly trimmed beard that complements the warm colour of his eyes and tanned skin. As he rises, his stature seems to tower, accentuated by his white turban adorned with an ostrich feather and a central red pearl. The head covering emits a radiant sheen, enhancing the regal presence of his attire—a long robe with intricate gold linings and a flowing red cape.

"Oh, King Elijah, we humbly present to you the Remaining Podeshire," the guard introduced the group, bowing respectfully before he and his troop dismissed themselves.

The man with the fancy white turban was none other than King Elijah Goldmann, the King of Runtokgi. Elijah descended from the steps of his imposing throne, standing tall as he greeted the group. "Greetings," he said.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," Oliver replied, returning the greeting. In unison, Oliver and his companions bent their knees and bowed before the king. As Oliver straightened himself, he addressed the king directly. "I am Oliver Podeshire, the one you have summoned to confront the imminent disaster plaguing your lands."

"And it is I who have called upon you to confront the devastating wildfire that has been ravaging our precious oases," Elijah nodded in acknowledgement.

"Your words accurately reflect the purpose of my presence here," Oliver stepped forward.

Elijah placed his hands behind his back and began walking to his left. "Follow me," he commanded, leading the way.

     A doorway swings open, allowing Oliver and his companions, alongside Elijah, to pass through. As they step onto the terrace, they encounter a gentle breeze that offers respite from the warmth. The area stands with stately pillars and elegant railings as a boundary between the interior and the vast outdoors. The expansive desert stretches out on the other side, extending its sandy embrace in every direction.

     In the distance, a thick plume of smoke rises, resembling stormy clouds obscuring the sun. A sharp sting touches Oliver's nose, assaulted by the scent of burning wood and leaves. Oliver covers his nostrils, then approaches the terrace railing to see the horizon.

"Most of the oases have already been reduced to dust, mixing with the scorching sand," Elijah stated solemnly. "The remaining ones are in imminent danger as the spreading flames inch closer," Elijah pointed towards the remaining patches of green amidst the encroaching fire. "As you can see, our guards and firefighters are working together, desperately pouring water into the oases, hoping to extinguish the inferno. However, our water supply is insufficient. That is why we have sought your presence to aid us in this chaos..."

"I'm on it," Oliver said. He then turned around and strutted towards the doorway that led back to the interior.

"Hold on!" Elijah commanded, halting Oliver in his tracks.

Oliver stopped and turned around, facing the king. "Yes, Your Majesty?" Oliver asked.

"Do not be deceived by the illusion. The burning oases may appear close due to the thick smoke, but they are actually a mile away," Elijah said. "I advise you to borrow a horse from the palace and ride to your destination," he suggested.

"Got it," Oliver nodded with a smirk.