Damien had seen his master angry before. He had seen him furious before.

But he had never seen him irate.

It was a strange sight, watching the elderly man swing the wooden sword at a mannequin made of stuffed hay. The make believe soldier shredded with visibly disappointing ease at the impact. His master threw away the sword in frustration and shoved the mannequin to the floor before he began to stomp on it in a childlike frenzy.

When it was sufficiently flat, Lord Gramell Hephaestus of the Parisian kingdom stepped off, his breathing coming in deep, heavy pants. Damien worried he would bring a heart attack on himself.

He waited several moments for him to continue his raging, but the man stood taller instead, brushing hay off his uniform.

"Read me the letter again, Damien." He said, watching the pile of hay that had been the mannequin with animal stillness.

Damien unfolded the square of paper still in his right hand, his eyes snapping to the words at the top.

"Hephaestus," He began in a cavernous voice, "I acknowledge your most recent letter and your request that we provide the payments agreed on for your last job. Alas, this cannot happen. As you know, the king is actively plundering his own coffers in order to sponsor his army against the invading Karites. This means the payment of twenty thousand gold coins owed to you has to be put on hold.

"However, there is a chance we can provide the money sooner rather than later, but this opening comes with an extra job. The Prince has gone missing from the castle. It is imperative he does not fall into enemy hands. Find him, and ten thousand gold coins in addition to the promised twenty thousand gold coins shall be immediately provided. Commander Apollo."

"The bastard." Gramell hissed as Damien finished reading the letter. Damien looked up to find him making almost ridiculous faces at the ceiling above. "When I find that rat that thinks he can stifle me on a job, I'm going to choke the air out of his lungs."

Damien felt the urge to roll his eyes at his master dramatics, but he liked being alive, so he did not twitch a muscle.

Gramell was a mercenary, one of the dwindling contacts the governments used to deal with things soldiers could not for diplomatic reasons. On one hand, the job was great, with the perk of a high income rate. On the other hand, his clients made him clench his teeth so hard; he'd soon have to repair his jaw magically.

This client, Commander Apollo, was permanently on his master's bad side. After holding back the payment for a particularly difficult job in the Parisian mountains, he was demanding another job from him.

"I'm half tempted to send a sandstorm his way, just to see how he likes it." Grammel spat.

"But master..." Damien began cautiously. Red-flecked eyes flashed, but Damien pushed on. "This offer provides another ten thousand gold coins. This would do well in that investment into buying a fleet of ships on the Middle Sea."

Gramell's gaze turned contemplative, then reluctantly impressed. "You do have a point there. That's why I keep you with me. You're the only one with half a brain around here."

Damien ignored the careless barb, neatly folding the letter back into its tiny, unassuming square. "And princes can't be too hard to catch."

"No, they can't." Gramell grinned, stretching a hand towards the wooden sword. It trembled on the floor for a moment before sailing through the air at him, as though yanked by a rope. Gramell's hand closed around the hilt and he brought the sword up, staring at the wooden blade.

He put on shows of magical strength in times like this, when he thought he'd made some superb mental achievement no one else could have. It was a tell he didn't even know he had.

"Pack our bags, Damien." Gramell said, his grin turning feral. "We have a prince to hunt."

"Yes, master." Damien said meekly, turning to leave the training room.

He wondered what his master would think if he knew his assistant was in commander Apollo's employ.

\\//\\//\\//\\//

"I don't think we're alone." Abel raised his face from his hands. He sat on the bed, unable to sleep any better than Hakim could. The two shared a knowing glance.

"I know were not alone." Hakim answered, glancing away and turning his gaze to the window. He shifted uncomfortably on his perch on the windowsill. He'd placed several sufficiently squishy pillows below him to give at least some level of comfort, but it still felt like something was trying to bite him through them.

"You knew all this time, and you said nothing?" Abel's voice rose in rising incense.

"It was interesting watching you." Hakim grinned at his reflection.

In truth, he'd known long before they stumbled upon the near empty desert city where they found lodging, food and water. He'd noticed the signs.

"When did you find out?" Hakim asked indifferently, picking at a thread on a pillow. Abel glared at him for several more seconds before deflating and glancing around the room sullenly.

"When I noticed the footsteps in the sand." He answered, chewing on his lower lip. "I thought it was a specter of my imagination."

"Yes, but you don't have an imagination." Hakim noted, grinning when Abel's glare returned with full fervor. "That, and figments of the mind don't leave footprints."

"What is following us, Hakim?" Abel asked.

"They're known as Delarean. They attach themselves to a person and continuously haunt them until they terrify them into some unfortunate situation. Then they feed upon your escaping life energy. Very nice creatures."

Abel's eyes slowly widened. "It haunts a person. I've been hearing its voice."

"Hmm." Hakim hummed, still unconcerned. "You must have picked one up from the battlefield. It likes to haunt soldiers on the warpath. It can frighten them sufficiently enough that they blunder in battle and get killed.

"I feel insulted that it thinks you a better soldier than me, though. Obviously its intellectual skills are in question." Hakim sniffed disdainfully. Abel eloquently replied with a perfectly flat look.

"By the seven gods, why are you so calm?" He asked.

"Because you're not the first to be haunted by a Delarean, and there are ways to deal with them." Hakim answered, his words disappearing into a large yawn. He pulled a small dagger from his belt, eyeing the faint sheen of its blade. "They are physical, but not entirely so. They allow themselves to be seen at will, and in those moments, they can be touched, and killed.

"Fortunately, they have to show themselves just before the kill, so they can absorb life energy."

"What does that mean?" Abel asked, squinting warily.

Hakim gave him a slow, wicked grin in response. Abel would not enjoy what came next. Hakim most definitely would.

He lunged at Abel with the speed of a viper, his knife a silver blur. Abel gave a surprised yell and tried to leap out of the way, but he moved a moment too late. Hakim's blade hurtled for Abel's throat, seemingly flying through the air.

Something flickered at the edge of Hakim's vision and he changed his aim at the last moment, flinging the blade in that direction. He heard the sound of flesh ripping before hands grabbed his collar and flung him across the room.

Sharp pain ran up his side as he slammed into the wall and he gave a gasp of pain. He crumpled to the ground, pulling air in fitful gasps. He looked up to find Abel towering above him, eyes wild with rage.

He bent down and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, hauling Hakim up like he weighed nothing. Hakim tried to whisper something, but the pain in his chest yanked the air out of his lungs and he fell silent.

"What?" Abel snarled, pulling closer.

"You're welcome." Hakim managed to whisper. Abel blinked in confusion, drawing back. He followed Hakim's pointed finger to the other side of the room. He flinched at the sight before him, taking a step away.

A naked body lay on the floor, limbs splayed out wildly. It had oily black skin that in no way could be mistaken for human, and its face was a disturbing cross between a man and a snake, with sharp fangs and slits for nostrils. Hakim's blade was lodged firmly in its chest, but it still twitched, dragging itself away from Abel.

"Why did you attack me, you diut?" Abel asked, setting Hakim on the floor.

"Delarean have to show themselves before they feed. I had to make it think you were about to die to show itself." Hakim answered, better able to speak.

"Couldn't you have given a warning?" Abel growled, eyeing the body on the floor with a disgusted frown.

"It would have heard, and the attempt would be moot." Hakim pushed himself to his feet and winced at the pain in his side, his hand going there. "I think you broke something you, you troll." He hissed in anger. Abel had the dignity to look slightly ashamed, but he did not apologize.

"What do we do with it?" He asked instead, glancing at the Delarean. It left behind a line of green slime as it crawled, convincing Hakim that it actually had oily skin.

"Kill it, of course." Hakim gave Abel an incredulous look. "What else would you do with it?"

Abel grumbled something under his breath and marched towards his sword where it lay against the wall. He unsheathed it and turned to the creature.

It sensed his intent and its movements became more frantic. Abel did not hesitate, lunging forward. His sword drove into the Delarean's chest and it jerked wildly before becoming unnaturally still. Its neck became limp, its head dropping to the carpet. The glow left its hateful yellow eyes.

Abel pulled the sword out its chest, eyeing the blade. Dark red blood coated it, welling into a big drop at the tip.

"Disgusting." Hakim said, eying the blood as it pooled onto the carpet around the body. "I would have just thrown it out the window."

"And chance it surviving and coming back to haunt me?" Abel nearly snarled.

"Better than leaving that stain for the poor maid cleaning tomorrow." Hakim answered indifferently, getting into a makeshift bed in the corner of the room made of blankets and more pillows. He snuggled in with a contented sigh, closing his eyes.

"Zeinab does not need to know anything about this." He said suddenly, his eyes still closed.

"Why?" Abel asked, his voice hard and sharp.

"She has an almost childlike innocence about the world around her." Hakim replied quietly, his voice almost a hiss. "I'd like to hold on to that a little longer."

Abel sighed and turned back to the delarean, unwilling to argue. "Nari will scent the Delarean's blood tomorrow, you realize?"

"Then it's a good thing the dragon can't speak, isn't it?" Hakim asked, his voice slurring as he faded into sleep, leaving Abel with the body to dispose.

Abel sheathed his sword, watching the body of the Delerean. For a long time after, he did not sleep, unblinkingly keeping watch over the creature that had tried to kill him.

\\//\\//\\//\\//

Zeinab had slept better than she had in the previous weeks of their travel. It had something to so with sleeping on a bed, rather than a sandy bedroll. She wouldn't call her normal sleep attitude indulged, but she couldn't see how anyone could sleep well under such conditions.

"Sleep well?" She turned around to see a drowsy Hakim dragging his pack carelessly down the stairs behind him. Abel followed behind him, his eyes curiously red and his clothes wrinkled after sleeping in them. He avoided her eyes, walking out the front door and onto the porch.

"Like a rock. You?" She responded, turning back to Hakim.

"Like a hibernating dragon." Hakim answered, reaching her side.

"Dragons don't hibernate, Hakim." She frowned.

"Rocks don't sleep either." He grinned smugly, pulling on his pack.

"I woke up this morning without feeling the need to punch someone. Don't change that." She warned jokingly, as they stepped outside to join Abel.

"Were the accommodations to your liking?" An older woman with a pleasant voice asked as she too walked out of the atrium to join them. Zeinab guessed she was the owner.

"I must confess, I wish we could stay much longer. The sight of a bed after so much desert is simply remedial." Hakim said, every trace of sleepiness disappearing as he turned to meet their host.

"The body goes where the heart does." The woman simply said with a warm smile.

"Alas, not for us. Our destination calls urgently."

"Even if your partner wishes to stay?" She asked, glancing at Zeinab. "I have private rooms for lovers too." She added with a suggestive smile.

Hakim spluttered and turned bright red, for the first time since Zeinab had met him, speechless. She had to grin at the sight, even as her own neck and cheek burnt in mortification.

"They are not a couple." Abel ground out, his voice rife with unexpected protectiveness. "I would not, in good conscience, let that happen."

"And I would not let him anywhere near my room." Zeinab added defensively.

The woman's eyes widened in embarrassment and her face creased in worry. "My apologies for any insinuations on my part."

"Already forgiven." Zeinab smiled warmly at the woman, attempting to allay her fears. Zeinab wasn't some noble who would take insult at such words. "Besides, it's good to see him shut his mouth for once."

"Amusing." Abel agreed, the stoic expression on his face shifting slightly in a smirk. Hakim glared at them both before stomping off, marching down the street. Zeinab paid their host and they raced after Hakim.

She looked up as she caught up to him. A distant shadow hung in the sky, floating amongst the sparse golden clouds. The dark figure, which she guessed was Nari, glided in a tight circle before drifting southward.

"Nari is flying for the edge of the town. I think she wants us to follow." Zeinab told the others, and Abel glanced up at the sky.

"Wouldn't want to keep her waiting." He noted.

They all began to walk northward, heading down deserted streets and passing dilapidated buildings. The desert had mostly claimed the buildings near the edge of the small town, turning it into a world of sand deluged buildings tilting at their bases.

They left the last of the buildings behind and entered the desert again as Nari came in for a landing.

She flew towards them on powerful wings, gliding forward like a dart. She pumped her wings when she neared the ground, raising a swirling storm of sand as she hovered above the ground a moment before she dropped to the earth, landing silently on the sand.

She gave a low, wailing call and shook herself vigorously like a dog, wings spread out like arms. She ended it with a sharp, bone-breaking snap and Hakim visibly cringed, taking a step back.

Zeinab watched his carefully blank face for any sign of fear or worry. As much as he'd tried to hide it, she'd noticed him covering up some fear or wariness whenever Nari was near. What would make the soldier afraid of dragons?

"It looks like we're back to the road, my friends." He sighed, brushing the blank expression off his face and pulling his silver backed compass from the pocket of his breeches. He held it level, rotating on the spot until he was satisfied with what he saw. "Heading south, we should reach Ka Has in about three days. We have the benefit of having gone straight through the desert, rather than around it, so the soldiers are several days behind."

"We still do not have time to lose, Hakim." Abel said and worry choked his quiet voice. "We still have no idea where Felix is, and what kind of bondage he is in. What he could have been subjected to since he was taken."

Zeinab noticed he did not mention that the prince might not even be alive. She didn't say it aloud, but this was an option to her. The world was a cruel place, and the man they sought might have been dead before they left the castle in the mountains to come looking for him.

The Oath around her heart tightened.

"You are on first name basis with the Prince?" Hakim asked curiously, glancing at Abel out of the corner of his eyes as he pocketed his compass.

"Yes. So?" Abel asked slyly, glancing at Hakim curiously.

Hakim snorted in answer. " Oh nothing. It is just strange that you should be so close to him."

"Is there supposed to be an insult somewhere in there?" Abel frowned, irritated.

"If you let there be one." Hakim answered airily, walking towards Nari, who was impatiently prancing in the sand, raising waves of golden dust in the air. When Hakim approached her, she bared her long fangs, watching him with slit eyes. He ignored her and walked on, not glancing back to see if Abel and Zeinab followed.

The two shared a glance, and took a long last look at the decrepit town, before following after him, walking in the wake of Nari's giant tracks.

For the first time since they stepped into the desert, Zeinab noticed she held no fear in her, any worries about all that could go wrong since vanished.

They had managed weeks of climbing the mountains, after all. They could take three days in the desert.