Demon`s Reckoning

Kazuki had never sweated so much in his life. Not during training with Uzaki. Not during the library explosion incident with Ryo. Not even when that rogue fire sprite tried to braid his eyebrows. This was an entirely new level of heat—like the sun had parked itself three feet above his head and was trying to roast his thoughts through his skull.

"Why… would anyone… live here voluntarily?" Kazuki croaked, dragging his feet through golden sand. His cloak clung to him like a needy towel, and his boots had begun making that tragic squish noise of a man who had long since lost any sense of dignity.

"It's the dry heat," Ryo offered, cheerful as always, despite having somehow developed a sunburn in the shape of a fish. "They say it's good for the joints."

"My joints are melting, Ryo."

"Well then, they'll be extra flexible when we get there."

Ahead, the desert city shimmered into view, a mirage turned solid—sandstone towers layered with bright fabric awnings, glass spires glinting in the sun, and an enormous central plaza teeming with people. Market stalls buzzed with life, guards in bronze and white uniforms patrolled lazily under curved arches, and children ran barefoot through a fountain that made Kazuki briefly consider leaping in like a man possessed.

They had arrived at Sel Eran, heart of the southern desert and home of the famed Sun-Walkers. And the locals… were watching.

"They're staring," Hoshino whispered, adjusting her scarf. "We stand out."

"Not my fault we look like a traveling comedy troupe," Kazuki muttered.

"No, but it is your fault we had to bribe a sand yak to let us ride it across the dunes," Ayame added, lips twitching with amusement.

"I didn't bribe it," Kazuki protested. "I merely... made polite suggestions with a handful of spiced figs."

"Still better than that gryphon pilot in the last city," Ryo said. "At least the yak didn't try to flirt with me."

At the city gate, they were met by two Sun-Walkers clad in cream-colored robes, faces wrapped in linen, only their piercing eyes visible. One stepped forward, eyeing them from head to toe.

"You are the group from Crypt—" He caught himself, then cleared his throat. "The northern stonelands."

"That's us," Kazuki said, managing a half-bow without falling over from heatstroke.

"You have arrived late," the guard said.

"Fashionably," Ryo corrected.

The guard gave him a long, unimpressed stare. "You were expected at dawn."

Kazuki smiled tightly. "We were...delayed. The sand yak union was protesting the heat."

A brief silence. The guard blinked.

"I see."

He led them through winding alleys, where the buildings seemed to lean in conspiratorially, casting pockets of welcome shade. Kazuki was grateful, even as his boots continued making increasingly alarming squelching noises.

As they walked, small groups of locals paused in their business, whispering among themselves. There was no hostility in their eyes—just a kind of alert caution, like a tavern cat eyeing a suspicious cup of milk.

Eventually, they were brought before a shaded pavilion at the center of a garden courtyard, surrounded by flowering trees whose leaves curled like copper flames. A woman stood there, her robe a brilliant sapphire blue, her eyes lined with coal. Her presence was calm but commanding, like someone who didn't need to raise her voice to silence a room.

She looked them over slowly, then spoke in a voice like polished stone. "I am Yasira, Daughter of Sand and Rain. You have come seeking counsel. And perhaps more."

Kazuki bowed again, lower this time. "We came hoping to warn your people… and to learn. Something is spreading—something dark. And I think it's already begun to stir beyond the dunes."

Yasira studied him in silence. Then she stepped closer.

"The sands are restless," she said. "Our water tables shift without cause. Shadows walk places where none should dwell. And three nights ago, a wind carried whispers through the canyon that stole a child's name."

Kazuki blinked. "Sorry—stole a name?"

The woman beside Yasira, a younger aide in red and gold, stepped forward. "He no longer answers to it. It's as if the word has vanished from his memory."

"Well," Ryo muttered, "at least we're not the weirdest thing happening today."

"You've come far," Yasira continued, ignoring the comment, "but diplomacy here is not sealed with words. We will offer food. You will eat. Then, we will see if your warning merits the weight you ask of us."

Later, in the private quarters offered to them, Kazuki slumped onto a cushioned bench with a dramatic sigh. "That went well, right? No one threatened to flay us, imprison us, or throw us into a scorpion pit. That's a win."

"Yet," Ayame said, chewing on a dried fig.

Hoshino, seated at the window, watched the streets below. "They're measuring us. Testing. This city doesn't show its cards easily."

"It doesn't have to," Uzaki said, appearing beside them without making a sound, her robe perfectly unwrinkled. "The desert plays no favorites. It simply watches and waits. As do its people."

Kazuki looked up, wiping sweat from his brow. "Uzaki, be honest. Do you have some kind of pocket dimension where your clothes never wrinkle?"

"I have control," she said simply. Then she handed him a small glass vial. "And sweat-repelling powder. Use it before you melt."

Kazuki took it like a man offered salvation. "I knew there was a reason you were my favorite terrifying mentor."

Uzaki turned her gaze toward the sand-choked horizon. "Be careful, Kazuki. They're watching you more closely than the others."

He frowned. "Because of the... thing I'm connected to?"

"Because your energy stirs things here. Not just attention. Movement. There are forces under this place, long forgotten by most. You may draw them whether you want to or not."

Kazuki sighed. "Fantastic. So even when I'm not doing anything weird, I'm doing something weird."

Ryo clapped him on the back. "Don't worry, buddy. If things go wrong, I'll distract the guards with my terrible dancing. Again."

"You've never had to do that."

"I offered, once. Counts as moral support."

By the time the sun dipped behind the dunes, casting orange shadows across the stone streets, a bell chimed in the distance. A young envoy entered their quarters, bowing deeply.

"The council of Sel Eran has met. You are summoned."

They followed the envoy through twilight-colored passageways until they emerged on a high terrace overlooking the entire city. There, seated around a curved table of polished crystal, the Sun-Walker leaders waited.

Yasira stood, her gaze unreadable.

"We have considered your words. And your presence. We cannot ignore the shift in the wind—or the subtle tremors beneath our feet. The northern citadel stands again, and now the desert stirs. You are not the cause… but perhaps the herald."

She stepped forward, lifting a carved token of polished amber.

"Sel Eran will listen. For now. We offer no armies. But we offer knowledge of the dunes, of shifting paths, and of what once was. And perhaps, still is."

She placed the token in Kazuki's palm.

"Your next path lies east, beyond the salt flats. But beware—there are things in that direction even the sand refuses to touch."

Kazuki nodded solemnly. "Thank you. We'll tread lightly."

"Preferably not on anything poisonous," Ryo added under his breath.

And with that, the city of sun and secrets officially opened its gates.