Published at 9th of September 2025 12:32 pm

Book 5: Chapter 16 A Good Deed [Part 2]

This chapter is updated by JustRead.pl

“What is it that you want?” she asked at length, her tone almost clipped.

I let the silence stretch, tasting its tension. “Distilled Dust. A single Tear of Dust. And permission to search the Deep Desert for a companion of mine.”

She responded without pause, scarcely allowing a breath between my request and her words. “Done.”

The speed of her answer caught even me off guard. “No questions?” I probed.

“What you plan to do with a Tear,” she said, “is beyond my concern—although I suspect that, in time, you will tell me. Bear in mind that to possess such a thing is to add yet another target to your back. You would be wise to guard it with your life, though I suspect caution is not your strongest suit. Still, you have earned this reward thrice over.” She paused to sip her tea, her eyes never leaving mine. “As for the Deep Desert… most folk would brand it a fool’s errand. But then, you are hardly a normal man.”

I inclined my head. “I owe it to them to at least make the attempt.”

She let out a short, mirthless laugh. “At least no one can fault your loyalty. Though I must warn you, the stories of the Deep Desert are ones full of dread. Only the Old Tribes survive there, and as you well know, while we share some blood, they claim no kinship with us. The sands devour men for lesser trespasses.”

She twirled a finger through her silky hair, almost absentmindedly. “This companion must be very dear to you.”

Better she not know precisely who—or what—my companion was to me. Let her imagine as she pleased. I gave no answer, only waited.

She sighed. “I will make arrangements. It may take time…”

Just then, another servant girl approached, silent as a shade, to replace the pot of tea. She was young, lithe, and the slight bend of her body drew my eye, as though it were an invitation to linger on her curves. I allowed myself the indulgence, for a breath at least.

“Unnecessary,” I said. “I need only my Water Mage. Too many people will slow us down. If I have not returned in a moon’s time, then you may assume I have become one with the sands.”

She laughed, and though it rang sweetly enough in that regal chamber, it carried a note of mockery. “A dash of poetry from you, is it? Very well.”

I shrugged to mask the small flicker of irritation.

She studied me anew, her expression shifting. “You know,” she said softly, “there are whispers in the city already. Tales of you—your manner, your strange attire—spread like fresh fire. There are many that seek to emulate you, or so my servants tell me.”

I gave another indifferent shrug. “Such is the curse of victory. The successful inevitably become objects of emulation. It is always hard for those who stand on the right side of the events of history. It is a heavy mantle that I have no joy in bearing. You would know something about that, Sultana.”

She lifted a fine eyebrow. “You are so very cavalier for one so young. I wonder… how old are you, truly? You speak as though you’ve seen more years than your face suggests. And there is a hunger in you—a longing I cannot name. A sense of the mysterious.” She offered me a faint, knowing smile. “It is not entirely unattractive.”

I kept my face carefully schooled to neutrality, though inwardly I found flirting with her oddly amusing. If this was what it was. “If you allow it, perhaps I will share more once I return from the Deep Desert.”

She turned her strange gaze away, then back again, and I felt the weight of her scrutiny. “Not even a clue?”

“What I seek,” I said, letting my voice drop low, “is a thing many men have wanted since the dawn of time.”

“Love?” she ventured, her tone dripping with derision. “How disappointingly simple.”

“Nothing quite so banal, Sultana,” I replied, sharper than intended. “Now, as I promised, I will see to your eyes—if you will allow it.”

She set her cup aside, her posture stiffening. A certain hauteur crept into her face. “By all means,” she said, “if you can.”

A hush fell over the room as her servants glanced warily at one another. Outside, the hushed sound of water flowing over marble walls seemed to grow louder. I caught the faint flicker of doubt in her eyes. Yet she held her chin high, daring me to succeed or fail before her watchful gaze—and so prove what sort of man I truly was.

A man of greatness.

And, if it was a miracle she wanted, it was a miracle I could provide.

Seated myself beside her and let my hands drift across the planes of her face. I breathed in her delicate scent as I summoned my holy magic. Its song filled my very bones, resonating in my mind. I alone shaped and directed the Greater Heal, compelling it to mend a flaw that had haunted the new Sultana.

Soft, golden light flared around us, weaving itself around her twin left irises. In moments, the eye’s imperfections fused into a single, flawless orb, whole and healthy. My magic, however, did more than merely correct her vision. Where there had once been only dull azure, there were now flecks of shimmering gold, glinting in the lamplight. Her right eye remained a verdant emerald, deep and lush as a jungle. The spell had not recognized her heterochromia as a malady, and so it had left her with two mismatched eyes—subtly altered, yet closer to my own liking. An imperfection that I could stomach.

Aelayah blinked several times, her lips parting as she rose to her feet. “This is what true sight feels like… I can see so many colors now,” she murmured in awed wonder, standing up and turning this way and that as though the world around her had been reborn. “So many…”

Then her gaze fixed on me. Horror flickered across her face like a storm cloud, turning her voice shrill. “What are you!?” she shrieked, stumbling backward. “Monster! Get away from me!”

I stared in stunned confusion. This was the last reaction I had expected. “Aelayah?” I ventured, my voice tight. “What’s wrong?”

“GUARDS!” she shouted, and within heartbeats, a score of armed men flooded into the chamber, their weapons at the ready.

One guard stepped forward, his stance rigid, his tone clipped. “What seems to be the matter, Lady Aelayah?”

Her eyes—one now golden-flecked blue, the other blazing emerald—appeared wild with hysteria. “There… There!” she cried, jabbing a trembling finger in my direction. “Death! Death and oblivion!”

At once, every sword and spear shifted to face me. Unarmed, and outnumbered, I needed to think quickly. My pulse hammered in my ears.

“That is not the real Aelayah!” I barked, jabbing a finger back at her. “Look closely!”

Suspicion clouded their faces, but they stayed their hands for the moment.

“Look at her eyes!” I insisted. “She’s a plant of the Council, an imposter sent to sow confusion!”

At that, one guard glanced at her mismatched eyes—eyes I had just altered. Uncertainty flickered on his face, and he murmured something to the others. A ripple of doubt moved through their ranks.

“Keep calm,” I commanded. “Summon Captain Farzan. I will search for the real Aelayah.” I infused my words with every scrap of confidence I could muster, wishing I had honed my Charisma attribute just a bit more.

In the ensuing confusion, I slipped past them and out the door, half expecting to feel a blade between my ribs. But they hesitated, and that was all the opening I needed. My feet carried me swiftly down the corridors toward my quarters, my mind spinning with questions. Had my healing revealed something in me that she could see only with her newly perfected vision? Her terror had been too sudden, too genuine, for this to be any mere political betrayal, no matter how well acted.

Luck was me as I dashed across a courtyard framed by vibrant flora, scaring a flock of colorful birds. The palace gardens sprawled ahead, where a slender figure knelt by one of the fountains. Larynda was shaping the water in graceful coils, each ripple catching the sunlight.

“Larynda!” I shouted, breath coming fast. “Come with me—now!”

She started at the alarm in my voice, and the watery shapes she had been conjuring collapsed back into the fountain. “What’s going on?” she asked, wide-eyed.

“I’ll explain on the way, but hurry!” I pressed, motioning for her to follow. The fear in my voice must have carried through, for she fell into step behind me without further protest.

As we hurried along, I spoke in a low voice. “Aelayah has gone quite mad… or something has driven her to hysteria.”

Larynda glanced up at me, worry etched into her young features. “Did you do something to upset her again? You do have a special touch with making friends.”

“I did a good thing,” I answered tersely, though my mind whirled with doubt. Whatever she had seen in me must have been truly terrible. For now, all that mattered was getting to my gear—and to find out if I could salvage anything from this mess that I had inadvertently caused.

Share