Qaahir yawned widely as he stared at the endless desert before them, only to choke upon the gust of sand that got swept up by the wind into his face. Omair chuckled and pat the fighter, "Now now, I know you're thirsty but you really shouldn't be going around drinking sand."
Qaahir gave the mage a baleful look as he brushed off the smaller man's arm. The heat of the day was stiffling and already he could see the Tsaens struggling to keep walking. It had only been a night and half a day since they left the Aman and already two of the soldiers were now lying in the caravan that held their equipments, passed out from the heat. Spellcasters were less affected by the desert due to their ability to the protective layer they could summon from their Spirit Self to ward off, or at least lessed the harsh effects of the elements. It was the only reason why Omair was able to grin under these circumstances.
Looking enviously at the large clan caravan that housed the lord and his son, Qaahir shook his head. Oh how the priviledged enjoy indulge themselves, better go check on Alena, thought the Emocnian. He knew Aeseans were tolerant to heat, for the northern parts of Aes were indeed hot throughout the year, but it was a humid kind of hotness, not this dry ones where skins crack when exposed. And he heard that the far southern parts of Aes tend to be very cold with their snow capped mountains.
"Hoy Alena, You okay?" Qaahir called to the Aesean female.
Inside his personal caravan, Lord Tzang slumped on his chair with various notes and maps layed sprawling on the table while his son sat nearby practising his spellcraft. The young mage was not experienced enough to cast wind magic to regulate the temperature inside the caravan, but at least he has enough finesse to maintain a constant gentle breeze to let the air circulate inside the cramped quarters of the caravan.
Despite Roune's best efforts and the shutting of all the windows, the heat still found its way into the vehicle. Lord Tzang took a fan and began fanning himself. To think the heat in the southern parts of home was bad enough, Emocnians sure have it hard here, Lord Tzang tried to sit up straight to resume his readings, then gave up, to think that it could have been worse, stuffier and hotter here if my son wasn't here, thought the noble gloomily.
It was going to be a long journey, and the Tsaen did not want to dwell on how was he going to endure it.
Chaen Lang walked proudly and upright among his men, serving as an example for his men to stand up tall and endure the effects of the desert like their leader. Which was a lie, for as a mage of sorts, Chaen Lang knew how to utilise his Spirit Self to ward off the heat. Thus the battlemage was suffering far less than his fellow soldiers, a fact he decided not to tell them.
While he led the group based on the map he had and spells that pointed to the North, Chaen Lang thought about the poor Rekamite boy they seemed to have dragged with them in their escape. By the time the boy woke up, they were far from the outpost city and thus could not return him there. Lord Tzang had said bluntly that he would not care for the boy, and it was Zoey's responsibility for bringing him along. At least the merchant Taek had been generous enough to let the boy hitch a ride in his wagon.
But what disturbed the Tsaen was how the boy did not protest much about leaving his temple. Instead the boy just sat quietly in the wagon and began meditating or praying alone. In his experience, people who tend to say nothing were most unpredictable. The night before he had been worried about Rine's disappearance, but decided that he would be safe with his wyvern. There nothing he could do for the boy.
Wiping his sweat off his face for what seemed the thousandth time, Taek blew into his clothing, desperate for some form of coolness. A northerner like him tend to suffer the most under such circumstances. He knew most of the soldiers and Chaen Lang himself were fellow northerners and felt complete sympathy for them as they marched under sun without shade. Secure under the shade of his caravan roof with Sumomo and the Rekamite boy, Dave which was the name given when he asked, Taek still found the heat unbearable.
There were some brews of his that were claimed to be able to cool the body, but drinking from them meant less money to be made. A merchant must know perseverance, thought the merchant.
Deciding a good conversation might help distract him from the heat, Taek turned to face Sumomo, <"Sumomo, I never recalled asking you this but which part of Tsaen are you from? Your name, I take it you're from the eastern parts? Near the coasts perhaps?">
Edited by Rothene, 20 April 2012 - 08:48 AM.