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Sun Kissed

Act 1: Jyotisha, the Land of Stars

“Ahead, Spica. Look ahead.”

The arid heat and whipping winds of this desert was hell on one's body. It was thought to be the harshest of deserts in the world. Guarude's desert was vast like an ocean, Gritar's desert was rich with history and treasure... but Jyotisha's desert? Heh... Jyotisha's desert...

Jyotisha's desert was simply deadly.

To start, it was a nearly lawless land. With so many sands, so many caves, so many rocky cliffs and hidden bungalows, it quickly became the home to all sorts of vicious bandits who dared to make it so. Gangs and criminals cast off from their lands, form tightly-nit guilds with one another, where they murder, pillage, and rape to their hearts content. And with the desert sands being so deadly, well, very few were brave enough to challenge them.

Then of course, there's the desert itself. At its hottest, a grown man would drop from the heat, and the sweat on his body would almost instantly evaporate, reducing him to nothing more than a shriveled husk. Then his mouth would dry out, his eyes too, and as he lays there dying a sad, painful, and lonely death beneath the relentless sun, his corpse would be quickly covered by the whipping winds that blow sand upon him.

But above all – above all! – there lays the horrendous beings known as the Sand Serpents: wicked reptiles of an indeterminate length and size that can – and have – swallowed elephants whole. Their scales are brown to help them blend in with their environments, their hides are strong enough to rebuff tempered steel, and when their roar splits the skies, the very sands themselves quiver beneath their awesome might.

With so many horrendous attributes, so many terrible tales about how malicious the desert is... why? Why do the people of Jyotisha deign to live in such a place? A sense of dedication to the lands? A love for their history and their religion? Perhaps even insanity that pushes them?

No... it's the spices... and he who controls the spices, controls all of Jyotisha. But controlling Jyotisha and protecting Jyotisha are two very different things. In a land so vast and so lawless, who is it the people rally behind for protection? Who is it the people seek for safety? Who is it that fights off the bandits, save the doomed travelers, and slays the vicious Sand Serpents?

They? They are Blackguard.

“Ahead, Spica.”

“I know, Father. I know...”

Golden eyes looked over his shoulder, leering at the larger, bulkier male at his side. His gaze was met by this man's gaze in turn, the two eyeing one another sharply. Who they were no one could tell thanks to the black hoods that blocked their bodies, save for their golden eyes. It pooled along their forms to protect them from the vicious winds of the desert, causing their hoods to billow like capes. And yet, despite how masked they were, you could tell the species of these men as they road upon their camels.

Humans. They were humans. One was a man, the other was far younger. Lithe and slender, only bits of his hair could be seen bouncing from beneath his hood. Other than that?

Nothing...

He was in stark contrast to the man beside him; this bulky wall of a human being with muscles strong enough to shatter steel. But again, all that could be seen of him were his golden eyes as they peered through the gapes of his hood.

Together, the duo pushed through the vicious winds of the desert around them, making way for an as of yet unknown destination. The younger of the two – Spica – could feel his blood beginning to race, his fingers tightening upon the reigns of his camel. Was it excitement that funneled through him? Or was it desperation? He felt pangs of both, honestly. It caused him to clinch upon his camel's side, making the beast speed up, much to the chagrin of his elder at his side.

“Slow down, Spica,” he growled, “And remain focused. Our destination is just up ahead.”

“I know, Father...” he answered whilst tugging his mask up on his face.

A part of him felt frustrated; how many times could he tell him that he knew the importance of their mission? But it seemed as if no matter what he did or didn't do, his father – his captain – would be displeased with his choices. And yet, even he realized he had been a bit too hasty as he noticed the once soft sands were starting to become coarse and rocky.

The ground beneath them broke way for a ridge, with his father speeding up to take lead point. Together, the two stuck close to the rocky cliffside, giving them a vantage point over the small valley below. Even with the wind stirring as it did, they could see the path below had been traveled by others before. Footsteps, hooves, even the lines of wheels; the information they were given had been proven true.

It was time to cut this to an end...

“What shall we do Father when we arrive?” asked Spica of the older man, who shook his head in a dismissive manner.

“You already know what to do,” he answered, “Do not try to increase the importance of your role, Spica. You are only backup, understand that.”

“I understand that, Father, but I can be so much more,” he replied as he looked at him, “Standing back with a bow in my hand is a waste of my talents.”

“I care not for your talents, I care more for your patience,” retorted his father, “And if you keep acting so hasty, it matters not how talented you are! Now be silent, Spica; speak no more of this. Focus ahead. We have arrived...”

Drawing back on his reigns, the older man brought his camel to a stop, causing his son to do likewise. Beneath them, the rocky cliffside gave way to dug out caves, where there were even more blatant signs of others having been here. Things like sacks filled with random items, burnt out fire smolders, even coins, were all collected outside of these cavern entrances.

Squinting, the older man slowly dismounted from his camel and came over to the cliff's edge. Holstered at his hip was his scimitar; its scabbard brown and gold, its hilt and handle elegantly curved, and its blade.

It's blade...

Thumbing his sword gently, he continued leering at the cave's entrance from his vantage point, where his son suddenly hopped down to his side. Kneeling with his father, the young man first gripped his waist for the dagger at his hip, only to garner a glare from his father. He said nothing, though a scoff left his lips as he instead readied a bow in his hand and drew an arrow from his quiver.

“As we planned, Spica...” the older man said as he stood up straighter, “I will lure them out. There cannot be anymore than five, and no less than three. You. Stay. Here.”

“Haaaah... I know, Father...” muttered the young man in a disappointed manner as took aim with the nearby cave entrance.

His statement and tone drew a quizzical eye from his father, though he said nothing. Instead the older man leaped over the cliff's side, where he slid down its walls into the dried basin within. Still keeping his palm upon his blade, he marched towards the cavern's entrance with his left hand raised up high. Around his palm glowed a green light, one which produced a series of strange symbols.

He was summoning power of a mystical level, causing the wind to start funneling around him like a self-contained twister. It grew stronger and stronger, tossing sand this way and that way, all while the palm which emitted such strange symbols began shining with an even brighter light!

But the man showed no strain nor issue with his mighty showing of magic. He held it with practiced ease, and just as easily leveled it with the cavern entrance before him. No words left him, no warning decreed. He just pushed his hand out and--

“FAAAH!!!”

From his fingertips roared a green blast of magical properties, one which flew into the cave's entrance before vanishing into the darkness within...

For a few seconds... until...

FWOOOOOSSSSHH!!!

An explosion of wind roared within the cave, causing random objects to fly out from within and sprinkle upon the desert sands. The force of the blow was so great that the man's hood also fell off, revealing his chiseled face, his sharp eyes, his dark skin, and black hair.

He stood tall before the cave, while distant shouts and screams echoed from within. Face tightening even further, the man could see shadows beginning to emerge, one by one by one by one. They were men; all of them. One was human, two others were lizards, and one was a jackal. That jackal... he appeared to be their leader, and looked to be as tall and as daunting as he was.

No matter...

They were bandits, all of them; people who live in the harsh desert itself. It would be respectable, if their constant gallivanting hadn't antagonized all number of travelers who make their way through Jyotisha. And though they were only one group among dozens, that did make their antics any more forgivable.

All struggle to survive in Jyotisha, but that does not allow one to abuse others.

“I am Heze Viginis, Captain of Blackguard,” said the man as he stood before the group of four, “Under the order of the sultan himself, I have been sent to bring an end to your terror upon the southern ridge. I recommend you make this simple for all of us and stand down. I promise no further action will be taken against you if you do.”

“Heze Viginis...” muttered the jackal who led the group, “Are you saying that my group is infamous enough that we have attracted the eyes of Jyotisha's absolute best?”

“Do not agitate me any further,” Heze retorted as he palmed the hilt of his blade, “I am only here as ordered. This is not some sort of flattery.”

“Oh, but I take it as flattery... and hubris,” replied the jackal as he hunched over, his hand too dropping to the hilt of his blade, “You come to me by yourself first announcing your arrival with an explosion of magic, expecting to take the four of us on? Blackguard is strong, but this is suicidal. Perhaps you are the one expecting flattery.”

Shwing!

“Last chance...” Heze warned, his scimitar now readied in his hand, “Be reasonable and turn yourselves in. I will not tell you this again.”

Shwing!

“I'd rather take those chances...” replied the jackal as he and his partners all withdrew their blades.

Heze's eyes slid left and right, scanning these group of thugs as he slowly backed up to put distance between them. They were were a wily group; despite having superior numbers, they remained cautious around the Blackguard Captain. Tales of Heze's strength have beguiled many in Jyotisha's lands and even further beyond; they did well to be hesitant even when four to one.

Heze himself did not appear too distressed. Instead, he rose his blade in a defensive manner, his expression remaining firm and focused. If only they could read his mind... then they'd realize how doomed they were. The captain of Blackguard did more than just dart his eyes around them. His every glance told him more than what words could possibly say; who as the weak link, where were their stances most loose, who to strike first and how to strike. Heze saw it all and knew it all.

So be it.

“YAH!”

A vertical slash; one as quick as it was strong. It cut through the wind to strike... nothing? Harmlessly it darted pass the jackal's face, taking him aback as his eyes grew wide. But the attack was never directed towards him. It was nothing more than a feint, a flashy one yes, but a feint nonetheless. The glint of steel flashed the sunlight, blinding the jackal just long enough for Heze to dart past him. His real target...

SLASH!

“AH!?”

Was the lizard at the jackal's side.

His blade cut clean through his neck, spritzing blood through the air and dropping his body just as quickly, but Heze was no done. Like a black blur he quickly darted for his next target, pushing his blade into the chest of the human behind with deadly precision. Arteries were torn, his heart stopped, and all of this happened in only a few seconds.

“FUCK!? GET HIM!” the jackal shouted, alerting his remaining allies.

His bark quickly whipped them into action, jolting the three to rush Heze all at once. He juked back while slashing at them in a defensive manner. Blades clashed against blades, but the Blackguard Captain was clearly superior. Every strike was parried, every stab was blocked, every slashed was dodged. There was even a point when he pulled his scabbard off his hip to deflect one slash whilst diverting another with his scimitar.

But trying to land deadly strikes on three men proved itself trying. Heze was focused entirely on defending himself, giving him no time to counter. But he wasn't worried, nor was he scared. In fact he shouted out--

“SPICA! NOW!”

“Spica...?” muttered one of the men, only for-- Twang! “AAAH!?”

An arrow suddenly struck the lizard in his arm, causing him to howl and distract him just long enough for--

SLASH!

Another vertical slice upon the neck, silencing him completely. He stumbled back as blood bubbled from his lips and throat, before falling over in an immobile husk.

Now it was the jackal's turn to step back, doing so with his last remaining partner as the two looked around. Heze was alone, right? Then where did that arrow come from!? Looking up, they got their answer: a young man with a black cloak billowing in the wind. He was crouched on the cliff side with a bow in his hand, and right now was taking aim at him.

“Oh...” SLASH! “AAH!?”

The jackal had juuuuust enough time to block the slash. The same could not be said for his partner.

Further proving his accuracy, Heze quickly leaped for the jackal's last remaining ally, pushing his blade into his chest and dropping him without even a howl. That's how the Blackguard Captain worked. He didn't just kill the bandits, he killed them quickly. No suffering was involved.

They were alive... and then they died.

Nothing more...

And now there was one.

Flicking his blade, Heze tossed blood upon the sands beneath them as he turned to face the remaining jackal. He had proved himself the best skilled of the gang, but that meant nothing compared to Heze's might. Even the jackal realized this as the Blackguard Captain approached him silently... slowly.

There was no more talking his way out of this; diplomacy died the moment he pulled his sword against Heze. That left the jackal with one choice.

“GRAAAH!”

He threw himself at Heze, clashing blades in some desperate, desperate attempt to kill the Blackguard Captain, even if he knew it was pointless. Should he have run? With that archer there, escape was impossible. So it was desperation that fueled him, and it was desperation that he died with.

A strike and a miss. Another strike and another miss. Another strike, and a counter.

SLASH!

Like those before, there was no suffering with the jackal's death. A horizontal slash right at the neck. He may have felt the pain briefly... but not for long...

Thud!

As his body laid on the ground before him, Heze sheathed his blade and sighed in a disappointed manner. Thugs, bandits, criminals; they all act and think the same. Very rarely did they do the sensible thing and turn themselves in... though being the sultan's prisoner can be worse than death in certain lights. But...

Weren't there supposed to be five bandits? Heze only counted four. Which means...

His eyes grew wide.

Turning quickly, Heze's eyes fell upon his son in the distance, who remained perched on the cliffside with his bow in hand. But there was someone else behind him... and he was completely unaware.

“SPICA!” Heze shouted, “MOVE!”

“What?” he said, only for-- Kick! “Oof!?”

A sudden strike to his gut caused Spica to roll over upon his stomach, his eyes wide and head turned up. Above him was another jackal; the fifth member of the gang. And considering his allies were now all dead... yeah, he was more than just a little angry.

“YOU LITTLE BASTARD!” he shouted as he readied his knife in hand, “I'LL GUT YOU!”

It quickly fell, but Spica showed no fear. Instead his eyes grew focused, and he kicked his legs up to press them upon the jackal's chest. Flawlessly, he kicked the the beastkin off of him, knocking him back... and causing his hood to fly off as well.

He was a young man, Spica Viginis, being only nineteen years of age. His face and features were appropriate for his age, being not as chiseled or as stern as his father's, but he wasn't soft either. Not with those golden eyes of his, which were just as sharp and leering as Heze's.

His figure was far more lithe and slender as well. A flighty young man, he lacked the strength and prowess that his father had, but was far quicker on his feet, and no less dangerous.

But above all – beyond his figure and youth – his most strike attribute was his hair. Heze's was black and totalitarian. Spica's hair was silver and graceful. It was parted in the middle, and seemed to spike out at the sides like a cloud.

Crouched down, Spica quickly pulled his knife from his hip and readied it in a threatening manner towards the jackal who was now getting to his feet. He could have quickly leaped at the bandit, pouncing and killing him before he got the chance to get back up. But Spica didn't want that. Noooo, Spica wanted him to get back to his feet, he wanted him to fight back. The young man even grinned in a cocky manner as he looked forward to the fight.

It would be a short one.

“You little... BASTARD!” roared the jackal as he rushed at Spica, his scimitar in hand, “I'LL KILL YOU!!!”

Was his roar an attempt to sound intimidating? On Spica, it had the opposite affect. Instead of being frightened, he egged the jackal on, taunting him forward as his finger curled in a hooking manner. Be it from his own rage or the young man's continued teasing, the jackal's anger ballooned, causing him to rush at Spica in a blind fury.

Again and again and again he slashed at the young man with his blade, attempting to lacerate, eviscerate, and penetrate! Each strike failed however, be it missing harmlessly, or being casually deflected by Spica and his dagger. To the young man, it was a game, one he easily played as he danced around the enraged jackal.

But even young men soon grow bored when the game is too easy.

Like his father, Spica had an eye for detail, and quickly noted of the jackal's weakspots. All it took was one overextending slash, and the young man darted in. His first strike was clean through the jackal's side, cutting flesh and drawing blood, but not outright killing him. Heze knew how to kill people quickly so that they did not suffer.

Either Spica didn't know such a skill yet, or he didn't care to learn it.

The jackal gasped in pain as his hand fell to his side, covering his cut while his eyes slid towards Spica. Again the young man taunted him, this time by casually tossing his knife up and down whilst making a mocking expression. Angered yet again, the bandit threw himself at the Blackguard knight, only to miss his strike. In retaliation, Spica again slashed his dagger upon his chest, adding yet another wound to his body.

But again, this wound too was not enough to kill the jackal. Hurt him, yes, slow him, of course, but kill him? No.

And it went on like this for a few moments far too long. The jackal would strike, miss, and Spica would counter with a slash of his own. Again and again and again and again and again and again, until the beastkin's body was littered with red marks that traveled from his legs and stomach, up to his chest and shoulders.

But so much slashes drew so much blood from him, that he fell to his knees in an exhausted slump. The pain was too much to handle, and the fight had sapped all his energy. So he knelt there, gasping for breath, while Spica stood victoriously above him.

The last thing he'd see in life was this young man grinning like a cocky fool.

SLASH!

With one last cut upon the neck, the jackal's corpse fell to the sands below in a silent heap, leaving Spica victorious above him. And to further along his gloating – even upon a dead man – the Blackguard knight performed a flourishing twirl of his dagger. Spica was proud of his accomplishments.

Heze was not.

He appeared so quickly that it took Spica aback, making the young man gasp as he looked over towards his father. Silent himself, the Blackguard Captain knelt near the body of the defeated jackal, taking note of his many, many, many injuries. If you told him this was done not by a professional, but by a serial killer with a pension for knives, then Heze wouldn't argue with you.

The cuts were indeed clean, but they were excessive.

Spica didn't seem to mind.

“See?” he said, “I told you I am talented.”

But Heze shook his head. His disappointment was palpable, so much so that the young man grew quiet among his father's intense gaze.

“You still do not understand, Spica...” he said in a stern manner, his head shaking with disdain, “And that I why today is yet another failure.”

“But Father, I--”

“Silence, Spica... speak no more...” he shook his head and stood up straight, “Let us return to the sultan and tell him we have accomplished our mission.”

Growing silent after, Heze left Spica to stew in frustration, not understanding what he had done to gain his father's ire. Had he not defeated the jackal? And with no injury to the both of them? He even kept his father protected with his arrows! So what could he have done to displease him?

It angered Spica... but he knew not to disrespect Heze. So...

“Okay... Father...”

…

Was it's name Blackguard Base? Or was it Viginis Estate?

Yes, and yes.

Jyotisha was a vast land with many nooks and crannies, and thanks to its deadly nature, the number of large-sized settlements that called the desert home could be counted on one hand. While there were many roads that traveled from village to village, a traveler could go hours – perhaps even days – before seeing another structure. And if they get lost altogether, well...

They'd probably never be found.

But if one were to come to the heart of Jyotisha, come to its capital city, they'd be forgiven for thinking the harsh desert was anything short of a paradise.

Capital City Jeera. Visible from miles away, its grand walls protected the city not only from would-be invaders, but also from the harsh winds and sands of the desert itself. With beautiful arches and curves, the walls of the city were just as glorious as the city itself, but push beyond its gates and...

True heaven lies within.

Jeera was a virtual diamond among the endless browns and reds of Jyotisha desert. Here the air was crisp and clean, cool too, grass and foliage grew in gardens which added life among the scenery, the buildings were made of a black and golden metal that gave off the aura of opulence, the rooftops themselves were domed in a unique architecture, in fact, all the buildings seemed to stand tall, with sidewalks guiding through them all. And above all the water. Glorious water rushed beneath the feet of everyone in a sewer system unique to Jeera, and nowhere else.

It wasn't just a settlement or a city, no... it was a metropolis! A glowing, gilded, glorious metropolis!

Never was Jeera a silent place. At all hours of the day, you could hear any number of conversations going on, whether it be at a bar, or the gardens, or the central most fountain. And overlooking it all like an offering to the gods themselves, was the sultan's grand palace at the far back of the city.

But their home wasn't too far away.

Viginis Estate. It wasn't as opulent nor as grand as the sultan's castle, but that didn't make it any less amazing. In any other land, the estate could very well be a castle in its own right! It stood tall, it oozed decadence, and its walls were strong enough to rebuff any attack. But the servants... did not dress like your typical maids and butlers, no.

They wore black hoods and shawls.

Not only was Viginis Estate home to the illustrious Viginis family, it was also Blackguard Base, where the members of the elite force would gather to discuss information among themselves. No one knows what conversations happen beyond these walls, though it is agreed that the sultan and his advisors are not the only people who control Jyotisha and his spices.

Today however, the conversations was more... personal.

“He is arrogant,” Heze said, his arms crossed as he looked out his window towards Jeera, “He acts with the excess of a spoiled child, and squanders his time with menial thoughts about 'talents',” he shook his head, “Being talented is one thing, being wise is something else entirely. He has too much of the former, and it has all gone straight to his head.”

“So... he is a lot like you then?”

The statement came from a teasing yet sultry voice, and caused Heze to pout in annoyance. Glancing over, his eyes fell upon the plush purple sheets of his bed, and the woman who sat upon its edge. She had the same dark skin, but with curly silver hair, and piercing purple eyes. Dressed in a silky black gown, she was a vivacious and voluptuous woman, and was of equal age to him. She was also a person who never failed to warm his heart. Yes, even when she was taunting him like this.

“Porrima...” Heze muttered, “I'm being serious. Our son is... haah...” he brushed his hand along his head, “Our son is prideful. He thinks too much about the future, and believes that his skills are enough to get him through life. When will he learn this not to be the case?”

“I remember when another young man had all this skill and bluster. Believed he could do anything he wanted,” the woman – Porrima – said as she walked up to him, her hands resting upon his shoulders, “Was always looking for a way to prove himself before his father. Oh... I wonder who that may be.”

“Hrrrggh... I get it, Porrima,” Heze groaned with a roll of his eyes, “Perhaps my son is more like me than I originally believed. Nevertheless, I will be as strict on him as my father was with me. Spica must learn sooner or later that skill is no substitute for knowledge. No matter how good he is at doing something, it matters not if he knows not how to apply it. It may as well be pointless dribble.”

“Be patient with your son, Heze,” Porrima said, “If he's half as perceptive as you are, he'll come around to your understanding. Hah... you may be blind to it, but I am not; Spica pushes himself so hard just to make you happy. He only wants your approval.”

“Hggh... be that as it may...” he shook his head, “I fear it is not my patience that will soon wear thin, but his...”

His lips moved to say something else, but Heze cut himself off. Outside, he noticed a group of individuals were moving towards his home, and with them was a carriage... an elegant carriage. Eyes tightening, the Blackguard Captain wondered why he would be visiting now of all times. It didn't take him long to remember.

“The sultan...?” Porrima whispered as she too noticed his arriving carriage, “What is he doing here of all times?”

“I think... this will be good news for all of Jyotisha,” Heze answered, “Alert the guards. I will meet the sultan.”

…

“I don't understand! I did everything right, but he was still disappointed with me!”

Thok!

“Did you ever stop to think that it was your attitude that father dislike so much?”

“Gggrr! Zaaaniiiaaaah!”

Thok!

Again and again, wooden swords would clash upon this training field. They were quick, and if they were real, they'd also be deadly. Strikes aimed for vital areas, ones quickly parried and deflected, causing their duelist to often times put space between one another. One was clearly better than the other – they both knew this. But when his mind was muddled with frustration and anger, even a novice could get the better of him.

And she was poised to take advantage of this.

Slip!

“Huh?”

Thok!

“Gotcha! Hee!”

Her wooden sword tapped his head, garnering both a growl and an annoyed glare from the young man below. Ah, but who is she, exactly? Well, when he stared up, he saw a girl who could be thought of as his spitting image. The same skin-tone, the same golden eyes, the same silver hair, though hers was curly like their mother, as opposed to his sharper, spikier edges.

Her name was Zaniah Viginis, and she was Spica's younger (by three minutes!) twin sister. Like him, she had a lithe and slender frame, akin to a sprightly gymnast. Unlike her twin however, it was clear she didn't put as much attentions to physical activities like he did. While she was more physically active than other girls her age, she lacked the same drive to be a Blackguard knight as her brother did.

That being said, tossing him on his ass was always a joy!

“Knock it off, Zaniah,” Spica said as he swatted away her wooden sword, “You only won because I wasn't focusing!”

“That's your fault, not mine,” she replied with her nose stuck up, while he got to his feet.

“Tch... you sound like father,” he muttered whilst crossing his arms, “Who cares if I overextend with my actions; so long as I accomplish my duties, then the ends justify the means in my book! I'm tired of being belittled because I didn't do things how he wanted them to be done!”

“That's so what a Blackguard Captain would say,” Zaniah remarked in a sarcastic manner, “I don't know why father doesn't just give you the position of captain right now!”

“Zaaaaaniiiiaaaaaah...”

Before he could yell at his sister again, the distinct sound of their estate's gates opening echoed out. Both turned in their direction, wondering who was arriving for them to be opened. Were they expecting visitors? From the sounds of it, they had to be important; the gates didn't just open for anyone.

“Could it be...?” Spica muttered.

“The sultan...?” Zaniah added.

The two traded a few glances, then quickly made way for the inner halls of their home. Viginis Estate was a large place, even with the both of them rushing through it. By the time they made it to the front gates of their home, they arrived just in time to hear--

“Salutations, Heze!”

“Haah... Sultan Adhil...” he grumbled back.

Adhil Jyotisha, Sultan of Jyotisha, and the man who rules the spice! He was also the sugar to Heze's salt, the fire to his ice, the lover to his fighter.

Decades ago when the two were hot-blooded young men, they got into all kinds of trouble, not just with their families, but within the lands of Jyotisha as a whole. They were best friends, with their statuses as Sultan and Blackguard Captain being nothing but words to them. But where as Heze eventually grew to embody the values needed of a skilled captain, Adhil... seemingly did not.

Seemingly.

He was a playboy through and through, never having officially married, but having no less than seven children with numerous women. And when you see him, you'd understand why.

Adhil was a charmer. He was always grinning, with these piercing brown eyes, his immaculately groomed brown hair and goatee, and the handsome features of his face. Heze may have been strong, but the sultan was certainly sexy. Combined with his extravagant mannerisms and affable personality, he made for a man who fought battles more with his words than he did with swords.

Though he wasn't half bad in that department either.

To many, he could be confused for an airhead. To those who knew him, he was a devious schemer, and was always a few steps ahead. To those who really knew him – like Heze – he was a never-ending source of embarrassment

“Don't appear so glum, Heze buddy! It's not every day we get to speak in a more personal manner!” said Adhil as he walked up towards his friend, a smile upon his lips, “I waited with baited breathes for your return from your recent hunt!”

“You didn't need to come to my home, Adhil,” Heze said as he crossed his arms, “I could have come to the palace personally.”

“Why would I make you – Blackguard Captain – come to my palace after your hunt? I'd be a terrible friend to tire you out more than necessary!”

“Hah... you're draining me now...” Heze muttered, to which the sultan chuckled.

“Your wit... still as sharp as your blade,” he replied, “Come, Heze, let us talk; I have great news to share with you!”

Nodding, the Blackguard Captain and Sultan both traveled into the estate proper, entering into one of its various parlors. Their the air grew somewhat serious, with Adhil's once smiling face being placed aside. Sitting down, he thanked his friend for the cup of tea given to him, but did not say another word until Heze sat down.

“You said you had good news,” the Blackguard Captain remarked, “But you don't look so good right now, Adhil. Is something the matter?”

“Heh... apologies if I come off as being too morose,” said the sultan with a grin, “That is your position in life, not mine! And yet... haaaa... I feel as if things can go one of two ways,” he shook his head dismissively, then took a sip of his tea, “We've done it, Heze.”

“Hm?”

“The meeting with Empress Aoi. It's happening.”

Heze grew still.

“She will be arriving towards the end of the month, her and her entourage. For five days she'll stay with us, then she'll return to her homeland. In that time, I will make us fire-forged allies through thick and then. Her kingdom is burgeoning still. She needs all the allies she can get. And even I realize that Jyotisha cannot and must not remain isolated forever. Our contemporaries are making bedfellows; the world is changing, and I refuse to be left behind, dear friend. So...” he smiled, “I knew if anyone was to hear this news first, it must be you, Blackguard Captain. I know this goes without saying, but I expect you to have your men on their best behavior! I want Empress Aoi to see nothing but the best side of Jyotisha. No bandits, and certainly no Sand Serpents!”

This information weighed heavily on Heze, but he took in a deep breath, then sipped his tea.

“The Empress' entourage...” he muttered, “Will she have guards among them?”

“I do not know,” Adhil answered, “But even if she does, if I may be so bold as to ask, old friend, could one of your men be her guard? I don't want this visit to be completely business related; I also want her to enjoy her time in Jyotisha. So if one of your men could act as her guide, I'd be thankful.”

His request was... abnormal, to put it bluntly. A Blackguard knight, acting as nothing more than someone's guide? That's never happened before. Even the sultan himself didn't had knights to protect him, instead relying on his own retinue of personal guards.

But Adhil did not ask this of him lightly. Heze knew how important this was not only for the sultan, but for Jyotisha as a whole. Forming allies – even with new, burgeoning kingdoms – would make life easier for those who called the desert home. They could trade many useful items with the empress' kingdom, and even aid each other in time of need if necessary, among other things. But it all hinged on how well this meeting – this stay – went.

So Heze had a difficult decision to make: What Blackguard member could serve as the empress--

WHUMP!

“BRRGG-- HA HA HA!!!”

Both Heze and Adhil turned to face the door in unison, which had suddenly flown open to reveal Spica and Zaniah. The young man had fallen face first into the floor of the parlor room, while his sister laughed at his embarrassing action. For the Blackguard Captain he wondered how long had his children been outside of the door, listening in on them.

“Spiicaaaaa...” he growled, causing his son to launch up.

“Ah, young Spica!” said Adhil, a charming smile appearing on his face, “It's lovely to see you again my young knight in training! Tell me, how did your quest to deal with our brutal bandits go? I assume you performed well?”

“I uh... hm...”

Spica looked first at Adhil, then over to Heze. His father's face was serious, stern, frustrated; what nonsense was his son up to now? It took Spica a few moments to gather his nerves, eventually standing up straight to look the sultan dead in the eye.

“I will be Empress Aoi's guide!” he shouted, his eager tone causing him to be louder than anticipated.

“R-really?” was Adhil's response.

“Absolutely not!” was Heze's, “Spica, what drivel is coming from your mouth now!?”

“Father, I...” he shook his head, “This Empress Aoi needs a guide, am I right? As what Sultan Adhil is asking of you. I can be that guide. No other member would have the social skills needed to be a competent guide for the Empress. And since you... haah... need the others to perform their typical duties, I can be the her guide.”

Adhil seemed intrigued, but again, Heze couldn't disagree anymore. This was just another game to his son, that's what he felt. He though he could easily get into his good graces simply by picking up a task. But this was more than just hunting common thugs in the desert! This could very well change the trajectory of Jyotisha as a whole!

“I personally think this is a lovely idea,” said Adhil to Heze's surprise, “I doubt having one of your typically aloof and stern Blackguards to guide our fair empress, would be a very... memorable or enjoyable experience. Having someone young and chipper like Spica here, would do wonders for our union. Wouldn't you agree, Heze?”

He turned to face the Blackguard Captain, garnering an annoyed glare in response. Adhil may have found this funny to a certain degree, but Heze didn't.

“Haah... my oh my... it seems as if we have quite the little tizzy here,” the sultan muttered, “The Empress arrives towards the end of the month, so we have plenty of time to argue and debate among ourselves on who will guide her around. Nevertheless, I do take it that the both of you know the importance of this meeting, and I expect all of Blackguard to make sure this goes well. Empress Aoi and the rest of the Solaria Empire could bring some changes to Jyotisha, and we can do likewise. So this... isn't just some normal visitor, please understand that,” he then faced Spica directly, “And that goes for you too, our young knight.”

“I... I understand...” muttered the young man, causing his sultan to nod.

“Good! Now then,” he faced Heze once again, “Shall we continue, my friend? We still have so much more to talk about.”

Heze nodded, but it was clear he still had words to share with his son. For now however, he began ushering Spica out the door, along with Zaniah... who was still giggling by the way. It left both son and father feeling on edge, but again, these were words that would be shared later. For now...

“Zaniah...” Spica said as the door was closed, “Who is Empress Aoi? And what's the Solaria Empire?”

“Tch... wow... you're really a nimrod,” his sister replied, “So focused on your practices that you ignore all the politics of Jyotisha,” she leaned in, “Empress Aoi is the ruler of the Solaria Empire, a small collection of islands out to the east in the Greater Dunbar Sea. The islands used to belong to the Dunbar Kingdom itself, but when their king died some years ago, the islands banded together to fight for independence. Empress Aoi is the woman who led them. After years of fighting, she was able to successfully win their freedom, and now rules the islands as its first empress. Aoi Solaria.”

“An empire of islands... wow... is... is that true?”

“Keh! Maybe,” his sister replied, “That's all I've heard within the senate rooms discussing these things. Empress Aoi Solaria rules the lands, and desires to further her own reach. So she comes to us in hopes of further cementing her place as a legitimate force in this world. Rather ambitious of her, I gotta say.”

“Huh... do... do you know anything else about her?”

“No... not really... ah! I do know one important thing!”

“And... what is it?”

“Solaria is occupied mostly by beastkin.”

“So... she's a beastkin? Wh-what kind?”

Zaniah shrugged her shoulders.

“I don't know. But by the end of the month, we'll see.”

Having had her fill of watching him embarrass himself (as well as garnering their father's ire), Zaniah began gleefully prancing off, leaving Spica alone. Taking a quizzical stance, he thought about this mysterious Aoi, wondering who she was, and what kind of beastkin as well.

An empress, here of all places. What species was she? A jackal? No, he doubted it. If she was from islands, she'd probably be something more tropical. Perhaps an avian of some sort? He's never met an avian beastkin before. What personality did she have? If she's a ruler, then he assumed she was probably refined and regal, unlike Adhil. But, no, if she was someone who fought for independence, then she was probably a warrior of some kind. So... did she have musculature, like some of the women apart of Blackguard? Made him wonder.

A month from now, he'll learn.

“Empress... Aoi Solaria...” Spica muttered to himself as he began walking off.

…

She sat alone in her bedroom.

The walls were wooden.

The floors were wooden.

There doors did not open on hinges and steel, but instead were made of paper and slid.

She had no windows in this elegant bedroom of hers, allowing her to gaze upon the lands she owned... and even further beyond that.

In this distant land, the morning sun was beginning to rise, painting the skies a myriad of colors. Blues and purples were replaced with reds and oranges, and the once bright stars were beginning to fade.

She sat alone in her bedroom, on the edge of her bed in fact. Gently, her thin blankets began sliding down her form, unveiling her slender shoulders. Lips opening, a soft sigh left her, and her eyes closed.

The doors to her bedroom slid open.

“Empress,” a woman's voice called, “The boat has been prepared. We are ready to depart.”

“I am coming.”

…

A month. That's how long it would take for the empress to come to Jyotisha. One month. One long month.

At first, life went on as it normally did. Blackguard kept the peace, dealt with criminals, and slayed any Sand Serpents that grew too dangerous. Among them as expected was Spica, who kept trying to prove himself to his father.

They didn't talk about his request to be the empress' guide.

But as the proposed date of her arrival began approaching, changes occurred around Jyotisha. For one, Blackguard's already intense patrolling was doubled. Adhil wanted nothing to ruin the empress' visit, so members of the elite squad were on guard 24/7. And on top of that, the city's sanitary division had also increased its efforts, leaving the streets virtually spotless. Jeera was already a pristine and clean place, but during the lead up to Aoi's visit, the walls became practically reflective!

Spica had lived in Jeera his entire life, and he's never seen the city look so immaculate before. Whether he be down at the stables near the outer rim, or closer to his home and palace in the inner sanctum, not one aspect of the city could be described as lacking. Adhil wasn't being his typically charming self when he said he wanted this meeting to go by well for the empress; he was going above and beyond to make sure everything was perfect!

“You look awestruck, Spica!” Zaniah suddenly said, snapping him from his thoughts.

“And why wouldn't I be?” he replied in a scathing manner, “When's the last time you've seen Jeera look so... shiny, I guess.”

“I hope you don't let this go to your head,” she countered, “From what I've heard, the Empress' ship has already docked at Asteroid Bay, meaning she's probably on her way here as we speak. She may even arrive in the middle of the night. Who knows?”

“Do you know exactly why she's coming here?” asked Spica as they began walking off, “I know the sultan wants to build relations, and she does too, but... I feel like there's more to it than just a handshake.”

“Oh, my dearest brother, naive to the world of politics,” Zaniah teased, “Empress Aoi desires spices and textiles from us. The sultan will give it to her. In exchange, she is going to give us something we really need.”

“And... what is it that she's giving us?”

“Honestly? I don't know. That's been a secret even to me. The senate keeps it tightly under wraps,” she muttered, “But I assume we'll find out soon upon her arrival,” she then raised an eyebrow, “Speaking of... do we know yet who father has chosen to be her guide?”

“Probably not me,” Spica replied with a snarl, “We haven't even spoken about it since my request. I'm sure he'll send Misha or Shaheen to do it. It annoys me either way; how am I supposed to prove myself if he never lets me?”

“I dunno... maybe that's exactly why father won't choose you,” Zaniah remarked, her taunting tone garnering a glare from her twin.

“What was that?”

“Kee-kee-kee! Oh nothing! Nothing at all...!”

At this rate, Spica was beginning to wonder why he confides so much in his sister. She clearly enjoyed being a prankster more than she enjoyed actually helping him. If there was any nugget of truth behind her words, it was hard to find it... or he was blind to it himself.

Regardless, the empress would be arriving soon, and as members of Blackguard, they would be some of the first to meet her. They needed to get to ready.

…

Jeera Palace. From afar, the lights within gave it an illustrious glow; like the sun had descended upon the earth itself. But, no, the sun had already set hours ago; the moon and stars now hung in the heavens. So Jeera Palace was more like a beacon to all those seeking salvation from the arid desert that is Jyotisha.

It was a massive estate, with a wall surrounding it even with the walls of Jeera the city. Within its front yard there was grass growing with palm trees, and a glorious fountain paying tribute to Saturnia: Jyotisha's most revered deity. The inner halls and sanctum however were adorned with images and paintings depicting the stars, including many other celestial bodies. They say if one gazes upon the ceiling of Jeera Palace, then they will learn how to navigate Jyotisha itself, no matter where they were.

Spica – for as many times as he's looked up at the opulent ceiling – couldn't really understand it.

The main hall of the palace was filled with people, all of which were dressed in incredibly fine clothes. They were the aristocrats and politicians of Jyotisha, having been summoned by the sultan in order to meet and greet the visiting empress. It begs repeating; Adhil was going to make sure this meeting went by without issue.

Among the elite there were also the members of Blackguard. You could see some in their black hoods and shawls, patrolling and investigating the area thoroughly. However, there were actually more that weren't seen, standing guard at the palace walls, or sulking within the shadows. The same however could not be said for Spica. Member of Blackguard though he may be, he and his family are also aristocrats within Jyotisha. So while his father may still be giving out orders, he, his sister, and his mother, were all dressed in regal clothes that elevated their statuses. You'd only know they were apart of Blackguard because the shared black and gold coloring of their clothing.

“How do you feel?” Porrima asked of her son, causing him to tense up.

“It's a bit... tight,” Spica answered whilst dragging his hand along his chest, “I'd prefer to be like the other members of Blackguard and dress in my uniform.”

“Oh you boys and your uniforms,” his mother said with a giggle, “The older you get, the more you remind me of your father.”

“I uh... th-thanks...?”

Giggling some more, Porrima left her son to join up with the others, sharing light conversation while he started stewing within his thoughts again. Casually he took a few sips of the drink in his hand, trying to settle his nerves as they all awaited Empress Aoi's arrival. Damn, the anticipation was killing him; who was this beastkin that fought off oppression and took control of her own land, and what could she give Jyotisha that it could not give itself? He was almost desperate to know, almost giddy. Even if he wasn't given the role of guiding her around, he'd at least be able to learn about their land from one of her entourage.

Before Spica's thoughts could continue, he heard shuffling. Members of Blackguard had come from the shadows to join Adhil and Heze. They whispered something to the sultan and his father, causing them to nod. Soon after, the Blackguard Captain walked off, while a bright smile appeared on Adhil's face.

“Everyone! Everyone!” he called out gleefully whilst tapping a spoon against his glasses, “It has come to my attention that the Empress' carriage has finally arrived! She will be joining us in just a few moments. Hah! I don't think I need to play the role of your father and tell you all to be on your best behavior! And yet... I'll do it anyway,” he leaned in, “Please, do be on your best behaviors! The Empress is our esteemed guest, and those apart of our senate already know how important she is to Jyotisha's future. So... without further adieu...” he faced the entrance to the main hall, “Johann! You may open the doors!”

“Yes, sultan.”

Together, everyone shifted their gazes toward the hall's entrance, watching as the doors opened wide. On the other end there was a camel-drawn carriage, one that was red, gold, and elegantly carved. From its roof to the spokes of its wheels, it exuded a regal aura. Even the camels that drew it had a shimmering coat to them that lacked dirt and grime.

The driver of the carriage was one of their men; a Blackguard knight sent to collect the empress and deliver her safely to Jyotisha. That same Blackguard member walked around to the side of the carriage, opening it up. And Spica felt his heart pick up...

Only to suddenly deflate.

What came out of the carriage was not the Empress, but instead one of her guards. A strong, tall man; one equal in size to his father in fact. But he wasn't human, no... he was a beastkin. A canine one; perhaps a dog or a wolf. His fur was blond, his hair blond too, and his eyes were sharp and piercing.

But his clothes were perhaps most striking. It was so different from what the young man was used too, being not like a top and pants, but instead like... robes. They were red and gold and white, which appeared to be the colors of this other kingdom. They were also a bit loose on him, perhaps because of the heat of Jyotisha.

This man – whoever he is – turned to face the carriage again, his hand reaching inside in order to grab the hand of another. Gently he tugged this other person out of the carriage, even bowing before them in a sign of respect. But who this person was, Spica couldn't tell... because their white hood covered their face, and from this distance and angle, he couldn't get a good look at them... at her.

Yes, that was her, wasn't it? That's the empress? That's Empress Aoi.

And she was coming closer, being guided along by her trusted guard. Spica could hear whispers and murmurs, even Zaniah said something, but he was far too focused on the woman coming towards them. The world outside seemed to not matter to him; he only cared about her, and whoever she was.

Closer...

Closer...

Closer...

The whispers and murmurs died out. The Empress was now in the hall.

Like her guard before, she was dressed in unique red and gold robes. What style was that? Wait... he's heard them be called oriental before... but he's not entirely sure. Compared to her knight however, her robes were more elegant, more regal. There was a sun-shaped pattern stitched within its surface, and it dragged against the floor like some sort of snail. It was also tied far tighter to her form, flaunting her hourglass-like shape and figure. But with that hood on, Spica could not see her face, at least not from his position.

So he moved in a bit closer, breaking free of his mother and sister so that he could stand among the inner rim of people. Why was the palace so quiet now? It was like they were standing in a void. Spica had never heard it be so silent before.

Before anyone could speak, Adhil stepped towards the empress, smiling at her. He said something to her, but from his distance, Spica could not hear it well. Whatever he said, it seemed to make the empress more comfortable, for her hands reached up and grabbed the sides of her hood, pulling it down.

And...

She was a vixen. A golden vixen. White and blonde fur adorned her face and features, like a priceless artifact from a treasure chest. She had a pointed nose and soft features, yet mature, slender eyes.

Her hair was long and golden in color, parted at the front with no bangs, though flowed like streamers from the sides of her head. At the back, her hair spiraled like the sun, but it was more than that. Elegant golden needles were stuck at the back of her hair, taming it into a ponytail which fell long and long and long down her back.

Goodness she had so much hair. Almost too much hair. But it was all so elegantly tamed, so well groomed. Spiraling in some areas, straighter in others, thicker here, thinner there, and yet it was all so perfectly symmetrical. It probably took her hours to tame this glorious mane of hers, but the time was well worth it.

Everyone was mesmerized, and nowhere was that more so true than with Spica. His eyes were alight, his mouth slightly agape, and he swore he didn't breathe for a few moments too long.

Empress Aoi of Solaria stared back at the gathered crowd, her expression somewhat lost. She appeared just as mystified by them as they were of her. What thoughts were running through her mind at this moment? Why was she so quiet?

And...

“Apologies,” Aoi spoke, her tone mature and refined as expected of a ruler. Spica thought there would be an accent to her voice but... no; she didn't have one. If anything, her mature voice sounded airy, soft, sweet.

His heart pounded against his chest.

“It is my honor to meet you all,” said Aoi as she bowed before the denizens of Jyotisha's upperclass, “I am Empress Aoi Solaria.”

“Glkh...”

Spica swallowed his spit then looked away. Were his cheeks getting hot?

“Welcome, Empress Aoi!” said everyone in perfect unity. And, yes, it did take far too long for them to get that right during rehearsal. Again, it must be said; Adhil wanted this meeting to be flawless!

It appeared to work,

The empress blushed in a cute manner, embarrassed as she was put under the spotlight by everyone around. Things weren't getting any better for her however, as in an instant, Aoi was surrounded by those around. Mesmerized by the vixen, the people of Jyotisha quickly assaulted her with a wide number of questions, all of them coming from a different person, and all of them hard to keep up with. Naturally, it took Aoi by surprise; not even Adhil could tame his people and their curiosities!

But proving her valor as a ruler, she quickly caught up with it all. Any question thrown her way she answered, her voice as heavenly and refined as one would expect of a woman her age and caliber. It was impressive how she could hold so many different conversations at once, and after a few moments, Adhil realized he didn't need to pull his people away from the Empress. She could handle herself!

As they bombarded the empress with their wide number of questions, Spica found himself traveling up towards her. He was just one in a group, nor was he particularly tall; she wouldn't notice him among the dozens of others. But that didn't stop him from getting closer and closer, just so he could get a good view of the empress.

Instead, he got a view of her backside. The robes she wore hugged close to her form, flaunting how shapely her shoulders were... though... it's not like Spica could really focus on that. Because there was something else that gained his attentions, something big and plentiful, something... lower.

And, no, it's not her butt. It's what was extending from her butt. Or... what were extending.

Aoi is a beastkin, right? Specifically a fox, a vixen. Well, like all foxes, she had a tail, right? Well, yes... but she had more than just one tail. Aoi had nine. She wasn't just a fox, or a vixen, she was a kitsune, and a nine-tailed one at that!

Like her extravagant hair above, her nine-tails were blonde and bushy, and they spiraled from her backside like the rays of the sun. Never had Spica seen something so enthralling before. They even swayed in a hypnotic fashion; some tails moving up, the others down, some left, others right. It was enthralling.

“Um...” muttered Spica as he stepped forward, only for-- Clack! “Hm?”

He looked down, his eyes falling on a thin golden object of some sort. It laid on the floor, having seemingly been dropped there. Picking it up, Spica brushed his fingers upon its surface, confused as to what this thing was. It didn't look like anything that belonged to the people of Jyotisha,

It was thin and long, and upon its surface there was the image of a fox. And... what's this? It could open up? Well, he opened it and--

Switch!

“Uh?”

It was a fan. A collapsible fan. And now that he had opened it up, he found the image of a phoenix staring back at him. It was drawn in a beautiful manner, its body made of a golden fire, and its wings spread out wide. Not only did it look majestic, it looked positively divine. Like a deity.

A goddess.

With this design and art style, it was clear to Spica that this belonged to Aoi. So he pressed it in again, closing the fan and shifting his gaze to the back of the Empress again. Reaching his hand out for her, he rose his voice to call out to the visiting Empress... but...

Aoi turned around.

And he got an unabashed, unfiltered, completely free look at her face.

Is it possible for a woman to grow more beautiful than originally believed? As Spica was learning, the answer to that question is yes. Aoi's eyes were like gazing into honey with their deep, brown-yellow color. The mature features of her face did not come off as old, but refined like sweet-tasting wine. Her thin lips were slightly agape in this curious position, as if she herself was trying to know about this young man before her. And she had a solid foot of height on him, maybe a bit more.

For a few moments, all of life seemed to stop. Again, Spica could not hear the party around him as he was entranced by the empress in front of him. It took him a few moments to speak up, and all he could say was--

“Your fan, Empress...”

Spica and Aoi didn't notice this little moment, but Heze did. And the Blackguard Captain wasn't exactly happy. He had thought he made it clear that his son wasn't allowed to interact with the Empress following his actions earlier this month! But here he was taking up valuable time! What they were saying to one another, he could not hear thanks to the voices around, but he hoped it wouldn't destabilize what Adhil had worked so hard for.

As for the Empress herself, she reached out for the fan and gently took it from Spica's fingers. Had she really been so careless as to drop this amid her conversations? Just thinking about this was enough to make Aoi blush, and then smile, before tipping her head down towards Spica in a bow.

“Thank you... Blackguard...” she whispered, causing him to jolt in place.

She knew he was a member of Blackguard? How perceptive of her! Hearing that leave her lips, was enough to make Spica shake in place yet again.

But Aoi turned around to face the others in the party, ready to continue the conversations she was having with Jyotisha's upperclass. With her back on Spica yet again, she left him wanting more of her presence, while his face started turning red.

If Spica had a tail, it would be wagging.