/n/jackal-among-snakes-1520/c-262
chapter-261

Orion laid his gaze upon towering gray walls. He was no stranger to such sights—be they in Mateth or in Dirracha, he had seen walls standing near hundreds of feet tall, enclosing all that within and protecting it in the same turn. But this was not Vasquer, and yet these gray walls stood like giants in this endless black desert, nestled at the bottom of a crater. He had always been proud of his people’s feats. He did not expect to see their equal in this unforgiving, if beautiful, desert.

The prince stepped closer. Orion had gone south, south, and south again, running into village and town and city in equal turns. All rejected him, yet at all stops he received yet more tales of this land of Sethia—a place that was free of the burden of the leadership of the Vessels of Fellhorn. All was as Durran described, even the great curtain walls before him.

When he neared, he spotted a caravan of a strange people lingering outside the gate. The gate guards, though nearby, did not seem to bristle at these people’s presence. Their skin was as black as night, their ears were half the side of their head, their height was greater than that of man, and their guardsmen had a familiar looking weapon in hand. They wore strange and luxurious silken clothing.

Orion walked to them with slow, heavy steps, an innocent curiosity driving him forward. As he neared, their heads turned towards him, watching, waiting. They prepared themselves for anything, yet as he neared, one broke off.

“Argrave?” one asked, half in disbelief.

Orion paused, standing before the southron elves of the Burnt Desert.