Raven twirled the sword from hand to hand, trying to spin it as much as possible and look super flashy. Sethos had just told him that he fought with a bland style, and Raven was determined to prove that nothing about him was bland. Not even the way he fought.

Of course, swordplay was never his number one skill. He had always been better at making people laugh than bleed, and he preferred it that way.

But no way was he going to let Sethos tell him that he fought boring. Raven Blackthorn wasn't boring.

Of course, being the dork he was, he kept making swishing sounds with his mouth every time he swung the sword. "Wshew, wshew," he whispered quietly, hoping no one could hear him. His hopes were crushed.

"Did you just say 'wshew, wshew' while trying to twirl a sword?" asked a smug voice. Raven turned in the sand, the circular arena making it easy to forget which way was forward. He'd gotten himself all turned around spinning the blunted sword. He felt red creep up his cheeks at getting caught being his usual idiot self.

Thankfully it was just Kiara, who had seen him being a dumbass like this before. However, as soon as Raven had eyes on her, he noticed something was very different. She stood up straighter, to her full, terrifying height, but she had a casual, genuine smile on her face that didn't promise murder or anything of the sort. She looked oddly non-threatening, and even... happy.

"What happened to you?" Raven asked, turning back around to continue making a fool of himself. "You look unusually nice."

"I had a good night, I guess," she said, stepping forward to snatch his wrist. "You're holding it wrong, idiot. Tilt a little more here," she tilted his wrist, "And now the weight is on your elbow and not your wrist. Makes for a more flashy swing." She smiled at him. "Because, I have assumed correctly that Sethos called you boring? You need to get over that he's just brutally honest."

"Who are you and what did you do to Kiara?" Raven asked, disbelieving. "I don't think you've said so many words to me without a threat mixed in somewhere in, like, months."

"Don't get used to it," Kiara warned.

❂

Lylie's feet finally gave out under her as she collapsed onto the patchy cushions Isa insisted upon keeping around their house. "I'm home," she called, exhausted.

"About time," Isa muttered, not looking up from her sewing. "What took you so long?"

"Heat run," Lylie breathed. She would have lied to anyone else, but for some reason, she could never find it in herself to lie to her little sister.

"A heat run that took all night? Who was chasing you?"

"Probably no one," Lylie admitted, "But the possibility of that prick Ecthelion on my tail was enough to make me run the extra mile, I guess."

"'That prick', you need to be nicer. Maybe if he liked you he'd let you take the water."

"His sense of justice would get in the way," Lylie joked, pulling a thin vial of water out of her skirts. "Drink up."

Isa snatched the vial immediately and downed the whole thing in one gulp. Lylie knew she pretended not to be thirsty, but this was probably the first full sip of water she'd had in days.

Lylie sat up and began massaging her ankles. "Ugh, I need to bind my shoes tighter next time," she muttered. "My poor, weak muscles surely shall not support me if I go on like this."

"I can stitch the laces shorter, if you want," Isa offered.

"That's okay. You have enough stitching to do for the royals." Lylie said the last few words bitterly, thinking back to the faces she'd seen at the feast. All fat and greasy, without flaking skin and cracked lips.

Isa turned away, disappointed. Lylie sighed, knowing why she'd offered so eagerly. She began to stand again. "But they don't hurt that bad. I can still do the thing."

Isa looked back up, cheerful again after hearing what she wanted. "Are you sure?" she asked anyway. "I don't want to inconvenience you."

"You're never an inconvenience," Lylie said honestly. She tightened the laces on her shoes to keep her ankles steady and positioned herself in the center of the crumbling room. Their house consisted of that one room, the walls cracked in the place of windows and the roof a rotting mass of wood. Sand had flooded in and coated the floor, making it difficult to walk normally but ideal for Lylie's purpose.

She made sure all the sand was smooth underneath her so she would be able to do the dance properly and get the desired result. She was going to sand dance for Isa. Not the cheap, diluted sand dancing that she performed for the court. That was the dance she performed for people who wanted to see skin and moving bodies. Real sand dancing was about more than that.

Isa sat on her own pile of cushions, watching fervently. Lylie rose to the tips of her toes and began.

As soon as she was moving, the pain in her legs disappeared. She twisted and twirled, making sure to drag her feet in the sand. This was the first dance her mother had taught her. When she'd first done it, she'd been all flailing limbs and tripping over her own feet. Now, the dance was instinct, muscle memory, a movement she was so used to she didn't even have to think about it.

Her feet sprayed sand in every direction, never faltering. Her arms gave her balance, tipping her center of weight this way and that to get a thicker line in the sand when she needed one. She never bent her spine like she did in court. Sand dancing was a dignified thing. She would stand tall when doing it.

She finally spun one way fast enough to fly off the ground and land gracefully in the corner of the room, leaning on the wall for balance. She looked back to see her results, though she already knew what it would look like.

She'd drawn a sun in the sand with her feet, the circle filled with patterns of flames and traditional Ailican script. It branched off with flares and beams, like a flower drawn on the ground. No, not a flower. It wasn't that delicate. It was an explosion of passion, a testament to an art that was almost lost. Few knew how to perform such a dance anymore. Only the dancer, in this case Lylie, could see the small imperfection hidden in the crook of one design where she'd lifted her feet and leapt out of the circle. To all others, it would look flawless.

If only they allowed me to do this in court, Lylie thought wistfully. Suddenly, the pain in her feet returned and she sank to a crouch on her heels, breathing heavily.

"You really are meant to be more than a dancer in court," Isa told her, admiring her design. "People who can do this? They aren't common. You're too special to waste yourself as a thief."

"I know," Lylie said casually, with a fake air of vanity. She hid the longing in her voice. She wanted to be more than this, more than a thief. She knew she was wasting herself. But until someone did something about the drought, it wasn't likely to change any time soon. "I'm going to take a nap," she said finally. "I have to be back at the castle for rehearsal with Emlin in a few hours."

She lay back on the threadbare pillows and closed her eyes, sleeping refusing to pull her away.

❂

"Ten to your thirty," Kimera said, a determined look on her face. "For a six."

Ecthelion shrugged. "It's your loss." He handed her the dice again, and she shook them violently in her closed fist.

His current assignment, at least until the next bell, was to watch the young seer and make sure she didn't deliver a prophecy without anyone's knowledge. He had to admit that the first time he'd been assigned to her he hadn't been enthusiastic, but after a day with her he realized it wasn't nearly as boring as he'd thought it would be. Sure, the girl was shy and taciturn, but he spent some time with her and she really opened up. He was surprised at how loudly she could laugh, despite her voice being so quiet. After earning her trust, she was fully willing to engage in hearty conversation and a few games of dice throwing.

Unfortunately for her, dice throwing was clearly not her calling.

She opened her fist and let the dice fall, clacking against each other as they rolled. Sadly, (well, sad for her; Ecthelion just became ten shillings richer) they landed on a two and a three, giving the poor girl a five. One shy of a six.

She sighed tiredly and dropped the coins in his outstretched hand.

"For someone who can see the future, you are really bad at this," Ecthelion mused.

"I am beginning to suspect that you weighted the dice," Kimera pouted, "Because there is no way that I just lost eight times in a row. And also, you know prophecy doesn't work that way."

"Fifteen to your five," Ecthelion offered, already shaking the dice in his own palm. "For a nine."

"Make it to my seven and put me out of my misery."

"Fifteen to your seven," he agreed, and tossed the dice. They landed on a four and a five, giving him a nine.

"Haha!" He laughed, throwing his hands up in celebration. "I am rich!"

"There is no way you did not weight those dice," Kimera said.

"They're your dice!" he protested.

She shrugged. "I'm not saying I know how you did it, but you definitely did it." She crossed her arms indignantly after reluctantly passing him all her remaining coins. "Next time I'm bringing more money, and I'll crush you."

"That's what you said last time."

Princess Rosalind strode into the courtyard suddenly, walking languidly yet excitedly. She met Ecthelion's eyes and he, upon realizing why she was here, winced internally. In a few minutes, the fourteenth bell would ring, signalling that it was time for their training session to begin.

"Hey, Kimera," she said, waving to the seer, who returned a small smile. "Um, I have to talk to you about the proph-"

"ShhHHhHhHh!" Kimera said suddenly, holding up a hand to clap over Rosalind's mouth. The princess leaned away, leaving Kimera swatting at empty air. "Rosalind, what are you doing?"

"It's Ecthelion, okay? Calm down. We know him."

Kimera squinted at Ecthelion, who was sitting still, looking rather baffled, and staying silent. "I guess so. Alright, what's up? Have we had any breakthroughs?"

"What are you two talking about?" Ecthelion asked finally. He pointed to Kimera. "Did you deliver a prophecy without me?"

"I might've."

Rosalind drew a slip of paper out of her sleeve (from her mannerisms, Ecthelion guessed she had a few copies stored away in there) and handed it to him. "It's a prophecy that could give us a clue about how to end the drought. We're keeping it on the down low, though. Don't think my father would be too happy to hear most of what it has to say."

"Probably wise," Ecthelion agreed, scanning the page. "Yikes, it's roasting him worse than the desert sun roasts lizards."

"I don't think it's... that bad," Kimera said timidly.

"Anyway, Balthazar and I were thinking about what Jasper said, you know, about what to do with the mystery liquid once we do pinpoint it. We decided it probably has something to do with the Underground Oasis, you know? The most spiritual place around, super connected to the desert, blah blah. Well, we were looking through the records in the beginning of the drought and it seems like before it actually started for real, water levels down there dropped, like, overnight."

"So it affected the Oasis first, then the rest of the desert?"

"Precisely. So, we figure, we pour the magic liquid back into the water in the Oasis and hopefully that makes everything better!"

Ecthelion tilted his head sceptically. "That sounds like a longshot."

"Well, it's still all we've got," Rosalind protested.

"Have you tried, I don't know, filling it back up? Maybe it's directly connected to the desert and giving it more water will make the desert suddenly have more water or something."

"That brings me to my second point," Rosalind said. "We did actually pour a little bit of water in, just to see what would happen. Don't tell my father where my water portion went, by the way. If he asks, I drank it. Anyway, it fizzed a little when it came in contact with the Oasis water. Is that something water normally does when it touches other water? I think not. Therefore, the Oasis water will react differently to whatever liquid we're supposed to offer to it in order to end the drought."

"You are reading very deeply into this," Kimera pointed out. "You deduced all that in a matter of hours."

"Well, I didn't have anything else to do," Rosalind said. "Now to my third point! We need to start collecting liquids. You know, the snake and scorpion venoms, and cactus juice. Balthazar said he and a friend can take care of cactus juice, so it's our job to get some snake venom."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Kimera raised a brow. "Neckbreakers aren't just going to spit in a bottle for us."

Neckbreakers, the most common snake in the desert, were in fact not going to be spitting in any bottles anytime soon. They were notoriously provokable, especially at night when they went hunting in the cool of the desert night. In the daytime they slept, but that didn't make them any less deadly. The name neckbreaker came from the strange paralytic qualities of their potent venom, causing the muscles around the chest and neck of whatever unlucky soul was bitten to go limp and the head to loll uselessly before the rest of the body followed suit and collapsed. After a matter of minutes the airways would start to constrict, leaving the victim to suffocate slowly as their windpipe swelled and closed. They could usually be found in packs since they shared dens hidden in the desert sand. This made them even more dangerous. If you were lucky enough to escape the bite of one snake, it was likely that you stumbled right into another one behind you. Their sandy scales allowed them almost complete camouflage.

Ecthelion shivered at the memory of one unlucky soldier who'd managed to get herself bitten. Her face had gone purple and her eyes dark as her throat became swollen and red. It was hard to tell when she was really dead after the venom had already rendered her motionless. Ecthelion had been but a backup soldier at the time. His superiors had insisted on trying to treat the girl themselves instead of rushing her to the healers immediately. It had been the girl's doom.

"We need someone to help us capture a snake," Rosalind agreed. "Preferably, a few snakes. And on top of that, alive. If we needed them dead, that would be one thing. We could just call the snake hunters to spear us a few. But if they die, their venom will dry up before we can extract it. We need them to still be able to bite."

Kimera sighed and collapsed backwards to drape over the back of her chair. "Why must everything be so complicated? Why couldn't the prophecy have just called for us to pray harder?"

"We need to find someone who can tread lightly over sand," Rosalind continued to reason, ignoring Kimera's complaints. "Someone who won't wake the snakes by causing too much disruption. And preferably someone who won't faint at the sight of them."

Ecthelion searched his thoughts for someone who matched the description, but he didn't have to search for long. A fleet footed, light, gutsy person? He knew someone just like that.

"I know a person," he blurted out. "But she won't want to help us."

Kimera perked up. "She better want to help us if she wants water."

"She's never had a problem getting water," Ecthelion said ruefully. "Illegally, mind you, but she still gets away with it."

"Who is it? We'll find a way to convince them."

Ecthelion scowled, knowing full well that convincing her would take a lot of effort. "Ever heard of Lylie Jasmal?"

Rosalind snapped her fingers. "A sand dancer? That's perfect!" She hesitated after a moment of thought, though. "But you're right. She definitely won't want to help us, even if it is to end the drought."

"Why not?" Kimera asked. "Surely she wants the kingdom to have ample water again? How could she not?"

"Lylie only cares about herself," Ecthelion said bitterly. "If she doesn't get anything out of it immediately she's not interested."

"What about the other sand dancer?" Rosalind asked. "Emlin something?"

Ecthelion considered asking Emlin briefly. She was also quite hostile and spiteful, but at the same time more likely to agree to take the risk, if only to defy the king. Still, something in his chest told him he didn't want her anywhere near neckbreakers, or any danger at all. He doubted Rosalind would take that as an excuse not to ask her. "She's too young," he managed to say instead. "Her skill isn't as practiced."

"I've seen her dance," Rosalind said. "She's amazing at it. Just as good as Lylie."

"Yeah, that's in solid ground. Dancing on actual sand is much harder." Ecthelion knew he was pulling lies straight out of the ground, but he still prayed Rosalind would buy it.

Thankfully, she did. "We'll have to have something to offer Lylie, maybe gold? Would she take gold? We could offer her water, but I don't know how we'd get it without my father's knowledge..."

"She'd never take a bribe or reward, not from us." Ecthelion crossed his legs. "She's too proud. And stubborn."

Rosalind grabbed Ecthelion by the shoulder and dragged him up to a standing position. "We can keep thinking about this while we fight. Come on."

Just as the words left her lips, a bell tolled somewhere in the distance. Ecthelion didn't need to count to know it was fourteen times.

"Training!" Rosalind said brightly.

Ecthelion knew Rosalind looked forward to their training sessions. She was an excellent fencer and their time together only honed that natural skill. Of course, he hadn't told her yet that he wouldn't be allowed to teach her that particular skill anymore.

"Yeah... Training..." he echoed unenthusiastically.

❂

Rosalind ran a hand over the rack of weapons, her fingers coming to rest around the hilt of a thin, delicate fencing sword. She loved these swords. Light, beautiful, deadly, all the things a weapon should be. It was easy to wield and still packed a punch. The blade was thin enough that it could crack like a whip, and sharp enough that it could slice a finger off. Of course, the training swords were blunted and slightly heavier, but it still sat comfortably in her palm like she was born to hold this sword.

She picked it up and twirled it around for a bit, getting used to the feeling again. It was easy, like an extension of her arm. She smiled at Ecthelion, who entered the ring behind her. He returned her grin with a sullen frown.

"What's wrong?" she asked merrily. "Tired of getting your ass kicked?"

"Put that sword down, princess," he ordered, his voice heavy. "You'll need a flat-bladed one for this lesson."

"What?" Rosalind lowered her sword but was reluctant to drop it. "But we agreed that this was the best tactic to win. I'm allowed to use whatever weapon I so choose, so it's not against the rules to use-"

"Your father gave me my orders." Ecthelion unsheathed his own sword, a broad, powerful weapon. Far too unbalanced for Rosalind to ever wield comfortably. "I'm to teach you how to fight a stronger, heavier opponent."

"Stronger? We're talking about Jasper, right?"

Ecthelion's sadness was hidden away from his voice, but she could see it in his eyes. "Please, princess. I have no doubt some servant or another is watching this session right now, eagerly waiting for the opportunity to run back to the king and tell him I disobeyed his direct order."

Rosalind scanned the dying shrubbery around them, seeing no one. "There is no one here, Ecthelion. Please, you can't just give in like that." She gripped the hilt of her sword tighter.

"My lady-"

"No!" Rosalind shouted suddenly, kicking up sand with her sandal. "It's not fair! He's already decided who he wants to win before I've even had a chance to fight! I'm more fit to lead than Jasper and everyone knows it, even Jasper himself! My brother doesn't even want to rule! Doesn't he know that? Doesn't he see that I'm just as- as- as good?" Rosalind's breath caught in her throat as she tried to choke the words out. She felt tears sting the back of her eyes but she refused to cry in front of Ecthelion. "Why does he hate me? Why is nothing I do ever good enough? He's never going to see me as anything but worthless trash, no matter what I do!"

She took a swing with her sword in the air, wishing she had something in front of her to slice at. A hackstack, a stone column, anything. "Why?"

Ecthelion gripped her by the shoulders suddenly, holding her in place. Her arms fell back to her sides and her sword dropped to the sand. "I'm so sorry."

Rosalind felt a single tear get past her defenses and roll down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly. She took a shaky breath and tried to calm down. "I just don't understand. I don't know why he wants me to lose so badly. Does he really want me... dead?"

Ecthelion let go of her and took a flat-bladed sword from the rack, holding out to her. "I can't answer that, Rosalind. I'm so, so sorry. But I have to do this. I can't risk disobedience."

"Why not?" Rosalind asked, gaining composure again. "What does he have over you this time? Your water? Your job?"

"My family," he replied solemnly. His eyes sank to the sand at their feet.

"Curse him." She knew that Ecthelion loved his family above all else. His parents, his siblings... he'd die for them in an instant. He'd kill for them, too. He'd risk anything.

Rosalind suddenly, to her horror and excitement, was struck with an idea like lightning. She hated herself for even coming up with something so cursed, yet she knew it might be their only chance at saving everyone in the kingdom. "Ecthelion?"

He looked up and met her eyes.

"Does Lylie have any family?"

Word Count: 3872

Character Appearances:

Raven Blackthorn by ghostofwolves

Lylie Jasmal by eli-z-le

Kimera Relicem by @ me

Ecthelion Finweson by WingedWarrior1731

Rosalind Vastatio by sofififlowers

Balthazar Evander by Cynarr (mentioned)

Jasper Vastatio by EstelElfstone (mentioned)

Also Featuring Appearances From:

Sethos Kosey by SincerelyLoki (mentioned)

Kiara Altaica by TheExplosiveCyborg

Arcanus Regis by WaferWhale (heavily implied, if you know what I mean)

Emlin "The Cat" by dobblewolf (mentioned)

A/N: Chapter 5, everyone! I'm surprised I managed to get it done with school, and it was originally supposed to be a little longer, but I wanted to publish something so I did. I know I probably messed up somewhere in there so if you find any errors let me know. Hopefully everyone is enjoying the story so far! 

I feel like I say this every chapter, but be prepared for another wait before the next one, which will hopefully have a bit more action. Hehehe *taps fingers together evilly* I have so much planned... 

Question of this chapter is: How's school going? Stressful? Breezy? If you want to rant, do it here! I'd be happy to listen to any venting or frustration :) it helps me deal with my own.