Nobody dared to laugh.

“How much time do you need exactly?” inquired Juel.

“A month. Maybe two,” mused Pai, his idle fingers brushing through the carpet’s fur.

“Too long,” the Faizul shook his head.

Orion gave Oasis’s sword, now as shiny as a new mirror, a last look, sheathed it, and cleared his throat.

“As far as I remember,” he said in a matter-of-factly way, “Sainar gave us no deadlines.”

“Yes! And Transvolo may prove useful!” Bala joined him.

“Agreed,” nodded Lainuver. “We could use some more time as well. While Pai is busy with Transvolo, we can learn a thing or two about the No Man’s Land and its dangers. I’d hate to go there unprepared, if you get what I mean.”

“We can’t afford that,” Juel stopped the arguments. “We don’t have enough money for rent and food…”

Someone knocked at the door. Hard. Probably with a boot.

“And here goes the hero that will solve our rent money problem,” guessed Orion. That said, he stood up and headed toward the door.

The late visitor turned out to be Oasis. The team’s urban jungle specialist was tired, bruised, sweaty, and angry (for being left behind the door for too long) but glad at what he had found.

“Hi, pal!” Orion greeted him cheerfully. “I've cleaned your sword. Take good care of it from now on.”

“Who’s beaten you up?” asked Jarmin, his eyes wide with worry.

“Ah, that…” Oasis waved his hand and made a bored face. “Local street urchins. A whole gaggle of them, strength in numbers and all… Well, I think I’ve taught them a lesson. Knocked down five of them; the rest ran away. Scum.”

Another ambasiath elephant made a jingly run through a pottery store. Just great…

“I hope you haven’t killed anyone?” frowned Juel.

“Of course not.” Oasis sprawled himself on the soft carpet, pure joy on his dirty face. “To tell the truth, I almost grabbed my knife when they started throwing stones but I managed without it. Ah, it’s been years since I’ve had a proper street fight. I used to be good even before my apprenticeship; now, it’s all child’s play.” Oasis rolled to the side, his face suddenly serious again. “Almost forgot: I found us a cheap place to live. No carpets there but it’s still cosy.”

Juel and Orion exchanged glances. Pai watched them both with burning hope in his eyes.

“Fine,” yielded the Faizul. “We’ll stay here to learn about the No Man’s Land and Transvolo.”

“Huzza!” Orion winked at Pai, “Do your thing, mage!”

“Our food tastes like ashes to them, it allows them to survive but they can not thrive on it. Often, they hibernate for centuries to conserve energy but they can not remain in that state forever. Once in a while, they have to hunt. The only food that can satisfy the hunger of a child of the night is human flesh…”

Helga-Vlada and Sereg, “Tome of Dark Creatures”

The Order of Hot Obsidian is an elusive thing. You will never find it unless you know exactly what to look for. And even then, all you can see is just the tip of the iceberg.

There is a famous ambasiath, known to Omnisians as Hansai Donal, a rebel, a romantic, and a powerful speaker. There are his ten children and their apprentices. Twenty one members in total. There used to be twenty-two when Gerdon Lorian, Sainar’s step-brother, was alive, but that was a very long time ago…

After having been scattered around Omnis for many years, the members of the Order had reunited again, ready to fulfil their oaths, but there was no unity among them. Instead of being a single ray of light meant to slash through the darkness, their moods were a swarm of wandering fireflies, harmless in their disconnection. Only Abadar and Orlaya remained unfased, the rest of Kangassks were full of doubts and worries rekindled by their father’s strange behaviour: after his latest speech, Sainar barely talked to anyone and averted his eyes often.