The ravine through which we walked was wide and deep.
Its wooden floor was littered with dry moss and lichen. Almost everywhere there were small, irregular piles from which flowers and grasses sprouted. I tried not to step into them.
Chanchey, had examined the piles a little closer and found that it was excrement of animals, which offered sustenance to the plants. Which in turn provided food for the many herbivores that roamed the canyons. This in turn attracted a not inconsiderable number of predators.
The eternal cycle in life in all its squishy perfection.

From high above our little troop, from the Thesos plain, sand and wood dust trickled down. Fierce gusts of wind hissed through the canyons, driving the particles before them like tiny hailstones in a storm. The ground hissed and rumbled. Now and then small fountains of steam shot up, and here and there even a perpetual little flame burned on the bark of the floor, fed by the exhalations of the smoldering sap beneath.
Did I really want to know what kind of inferno was going on down there? What had once set the Sap veins on fire in this part of the New Lands?
The flaming forest not far from here, a little further to the west, had been hit the worst. Here the fire was so close to the surface that a tribe was founded just to watch the ground in case the embers should eat their way to the surface again. Like the fire of Coriolis, which raged for 2 months and devastated vast areas, even into the forests of the Matis. Long ago, in the ancient lands. But nature had adapted wonderfully to the circumstances, in the Flaming Forest grew trees, if you want to call these partly charred things shaped like fangs so, which knew how to use the burning Sap.
They channeled it into their tops and let it flare up there. In this way they kept herbivores away from their unripe fruit. Only in winter, when it became a little cooler in the desert, they closed these veins and all at once literally burst with large leaves and bug grapes on thick vines that sprouted from their trunks. An excellent wine was pressed from them. Aah, how I longed for a good sip in this heat …

I pushed my thoughts away from the mysteries of the desert and refreshments to the task that lay ahead of us. Some of the us had heavily armed themselves, but some magi had also come along on this expedition.
We were to track down a wanted assassin in the deep canyons and bring her before the justice of the Empire.
The Fyros, who practically grew up in this area and soaked up the sand with their mother's milk, as some mockingly claimed, did not mind the rough air. They perhaps blinked a little more often.
But for the few Trykers and Matis who had joined the search for the criminal Mezix, the heat quickly brought sweat to their foreheads. They cursed the wood dust that always found a way into even the best armor and scratched and chafed terribly.
The representative of the Imperial Protection Guild of the Burning Faces, whose name I had not learned, set a good pace and the homins not used to the desert had to strain to keep up with the Fyros.

But, many were interested in bringing the mysterious Fyra named Mezix to justice.
Just a few days before, her cruel goings-on had claimed a new victim. A worker who, together with a colleague, was supposed to be doing repair work on the Imperial Road in the Frahar Towers. Both fell under the spell of the beautiful Fyra, but when her beasts of war fell upon his colleague, he regained his senses and ran for his life. Completely distraught and exhausted from the long march through the desert, he made it to the village of the waterbreakers, who took care of him and finally brought him back to Pyr. There he tried to muster his courage, to tell his colleague's family of this tragedy, in the tavern. Just as some friends and I were also there, discussing the earlier events.

First, of course, he had reported to the city guards and they informed the Burning Faces, the guild officially charged with the internal security of the Empire.
So now a handful of members of this guild and as many volunteers were jogging through the deep canyons that almost divided the Burning Desert in half from east to west, looking for the criminal's camp. A few days earlier, in an obviously abandoned camp, a message had been found that spoke of the "Dragon Maw Gorge". It had been signed: ”A. Z.”. At first, no one knew who A. Z. could be.
I couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong with it, though.
It was just too - convenient - for it to be found in this otherwise empty camp. Amap with a clear message to Mezix and a clear designation of this place? I suspected a trap.

However, hardly any of my companions wanted to hear about it. Especially the Fyros were sure that they would have an easy time with a few wild Gingos and their rebellious mistress.

Far from it, as it turned out later.
When our small troop reached the Dragon Maw Gorge and the wooden walls moved closer and closer together, we soon noticed that something was out of the ordinary here.
No animals far and wide.
Not even a Cuttler was lying in wait in a bush.
And soon we saw the reason.
A veritable horde of nearly shoulder-high, brown desert Gingos cavorted in the narrow twists and turns of the gorge. Their hoarse, wheezing barks swelled into a veritable storm as the voice of a Fyra rang out from the depths of the gorge.
"Attack!"

Jena, how fast these beasts were!
And how tough!
The sword strokes of the Homins seemed to make the trained animals only wilder and with every drop of blood that dripped on the barren ground, their murderousness increased. Within a short time, the Magi were overrun and only the heavily armed warriors withstood the onslaught for a short time longer. They too soon fell under the vicious fangs of the shaggy beasts. The last thing I saw before blackness and pain enveloped me was a group of the great predators, returning like tame yubos to their mistress. Who stepped out of the shadows of the gorge, smiling maliciously.

Light flooded my soul and my battered body. Glowing, healing, runic bands enveloped my bleeding limbs and lifted me from the ground.
Someone must have escaped the attack and hid until the victorious criminal called her animals back.
With a booming skull and trembling hands, I pulled out my magic enhancers and put them on. The precise movements of the spell were not easy to perform in heavy armor, but it would just have to do! Within a short time, all members of the search party were back on their feet and it was decided to make another attempt to apprehend the wanted person.
This time we would be prepared for their deceit.

Slowly I crept behind some Fyros into the narrow gorge.
There was a smaller pack of the desert predators there.
One of the Fyros warriors jumped forward and waved his arms violently. His performance was a bit exaggerated, but did not miss its effect.
The animals immediately ran towards him.
Right into our waiting swords.
The noise of the battle attracted more of the animals, but the Magi covered the back of the group and kept the fighters alive with their healing magic.
So we outwitted a good two dozen of the horrible creatures.
Then, however, the tide almost turned again. With wild battle-cries, some warriors in red and yellow armor came rushing out of the gorge and into our back. The swordsmen split up and rushed back to their mages, who struggled to fend off the attackers and heal their allies at the same time.
I stayed in front and drove the dogs into the dust. Now the female voice echoed through the ravine again:
"Put them down!"
A perfectly planned trap.

But, Mezix had not counted on the fighting prowess and good cooperation of her hunters. Although from different countries and guilds, many of them had already fought side by side against far worse opponents and passed. Those who could hold their own against Kitin, could also cope with such a wild bunch.
And indeed, the attacking homins were quickly defeated and we pushed further into the narrow passages of the canyon. After a few twists and turns, in which attacking Gingos met their deaths again and again, we spotted a fortified camp.

Something crashed forcefully into the wood of the canyon wall just above my head, and a rain of splinters and dust fell on me. Instinctively, I jerked back into the shelter of the wall.
"They have shooters!" roared a deep voice, just as a Magi collapsed next to him, hit.
And indeed, behind some stacked crates, I could make out figures pointing bow-rifles and pistols at us.
Surprised, I realized that they were all women, Fyra, like Mezix.
I wonder if that meant anything.
But, enough thoughts, now it was time to fight.
The ground was uneven and the walls of the canyon were full of cracks and minor overhangs, but nothing really provided cover. We pressed our bodies against the wall beyond the bend toward the main canyon. Again and again, projectiles slammed into the ground or whizzed just past our cover. Finally, we heard the voice again, which probably belonged to Mezix:
"Give up! You can't get to me anyway!"

The other homins looked at each other, and as if by some indiscernible understanding, they knew what to do. One by one, the heavily armored warriors rushed around the curve of the ravine and ran toward the camp, shouting mightily.
I ran after them.
Glowing projectiles of hardwood bounced off their armor, leaving dents and fractures, or made their way into the flesh below. But the attackers kept running!
Behind us, the magi stepped into the line of fire, now obstructed by the warriors' armor, and began their healing and wounding dances. Bubbling balls of energy raced in high arcs over the heads of the warriors and burst in showers of fire, poison and acid in the middle of the camp, or on the stacked crates.
The shooters ducked as best they could.
A shimmering blue blast wave thundered just past me and tore apart a stack of crates. The Fyra, crouching behind it, was hurled through the air and crashed against the hard wall of the gorge. There she collapsed and lay still.

"Strange that they don't have healers," it flashed through my mind, but I had already reached the barricade and rushed through the hole that had just been blown. In front of me, a young Fyra stepped out of cover and pointed her smoking weapon at me. With one well-aimed blow, I struck her down. Briefly, I felt regret and said a prayer to Jena in my mind, but then the next bullet crashed into my armor. I turned around just as a sword pierced the shooter's chest from behind. The broad figure of Gladeusdeus, a member of the ruling council of the Fyros "Akenak" and quite an esteemed acquaintance, pushed forward, pushed the corpse aside and nodded curtly at me. I nodded back and both of us threw ourselves back into the fight.
After a few minutes the fight was over. Everyone was exhausted and yet we had not reached our goal.
Mezix stepped out from under the cover of a tent and a male Fyros in dirty but formerly very fine clothing appeared beside her.
"Senator Zelion?!" exclaimed some of those present. Hardly anyone who had seen the strange message had interpreted A.Z. as "Aeracus Zelion . Nor had anyone reckoned with the presence of this Fyros here. He had been "kidnapped" only a few weeks ago, in the middle of his trial for treason against the empire and collaboration with the marauders. However, not by the Fyra who stood before them. But by Aikila Ashenstorm, the daughter of Melkiar.
Melkiar, "The Black Varynx", leader of the Marauders and one of the worst threats to the New Lands, after the Kitin. So, there was a connection between them and Mezix after all. As some homins had already suspected.

Only, what sense did it make to keep this fugitive here, wasn't she bait enough herself? After all her terrible deeds.
A surprised, "Mezix! What are all these Fyros doing here?!" escaped the clearly frightened ex-Senator as he stepped out of the shadows of the tent and found himself surrounded by members of the Burning Faces.
But the Fyra, visibly angered, ordered him to shut up. Then she turned to the representatives of the empire.

While I was still thinking and turned to the open camp to cover the back of the group, Mezix and the official were drowning in mutual insults and arrogant remarks. As it seemed to be the way of the Fyros. Then, all at once, a surprised murmur went through the crowd behind me, and when I turned around, Mezix was pressing her lips tightly on Gladeusdeus'. The much smaller Fyra held him tight and pressed her body against his.
The burly Fyros’ facial expression revealed that he was just as surprised by this behavior as all the bystanders. Even the ex-senator stammered a "W...wha... what is this?" and stared at the scene completely perplexed.
For a moment, everyone was paralyzed. But that moment was enough for the skilled warrior. She grabbed the reins of a Mektoub standing nearby and swung herself into the saddle. Then she yanked the senator up behind her by the collar, across the back of the mount and gave the animal the spurs. Upset, the heavy mount thundered through the group of homins and out into the canyon.
Immediately, many of them gave chase on foot, but in vain. The beast was too fast, even loaded with two homins, and disappeared into the maze of ravines. While the main part of the troop ran to the exit of the ravine, I stayed behind and once again examined the camp and the bodies of the dead homins.
Strangely, the soldiers who had attacked us all wore red armor, with yellow Ornaments. Almost like those of the city guards of Pyr. However, with an emblem on it that I did not recognize.
A strange glyph, which I did not know how to interpret. The women who had defended the camp itself, however, wore sand-colored armor, without any markings. Also, they all had nothing with them except some rations. In the boxes of the camp were food supplies for several months and the tents were only sparsely furnished.
This seemed to be just some sort of transitional camp. Where were these Fyros going and who exactly were they?
Marauders? Or a new group split off from them?
I had also noticed that the Fyra named Mezix bore a striking resemblance to Akilia Ashenstorm. I had already met her.
Were they related? Siblings, perhaps?
Questions upon questions. And only one was answered the next day after I returned to Yrkanis from Pyr.
Council member Zeron sent me a runner boy who breathlessly handed over a message. From which I gleaned that news had come from the desert empire.

The Akenak had ordered its troops to march into the region of the Hidden Source. However, this was not an attack on the sovereignty of the Matisian kingdom, but only a measure to finally get hold of the Fyra named Mezix, who had been sighted in this long-disputed area of the "Matis Desert", as it was also called. It was hoped that an even larger contingent of troops would be able to deal with her. I did not know how to react to this. Politics had always been foreign to me, as a bard I had only ever declared my faith in my people and Jena by song and poetry. Now I was supposed to help decide how to react to an invasion of the Empire's troops into Matisian territory.
"Jena, guide me across this unknown path." I prayed for the help of the goddess and sent the messenger boy back to Lord Zeron with words of thanks and a request for some time to think it over.