Waverider Expedition - Ssar'et
The desert shimmered like a forge.
Solonex, Severin, and Kethra followed the dry riverbed until the cliffs of Ssar'et rose before them, black basalt and red stone, carved by time and pride. At the foot of a fallen arch stood a lone figure, motionless but alive. Bronze armor gleamed over dark green scales, etched with sigils that caught the sun. A raptor-beast crouched beside him, lean and terrible, quills rising with each breath.
The knight inclined his head. "Travelers. You walk unwatched ground."
"We mean no trespass," Solonex said.
"All ground is trespass without witness," the knight replied. His voice was low, rasped, patient. "Here stood the hold of Mistress Vethakka. Here, no longer."
Severin's voice came soft. "Your mistress?"
"She died six dawns past."
"My condolences," Severin said.
The knight touched the red banner beside him. "Accepted. I remain as the watch she no longer keeps."
Kethra's eyes narrowed. "You guard a grave alone?"
He turned slightly, showing the black sun engraved on his pauldron. "Order of the Black Sun. I vowed never to retreat."
The words hung heavy in the heat.
Then the wind shifted. Sand hissed. Shapes rose from the dunes - men in tattered veils, carrying curved blades. Raiders.
The knight moved first. His raptor screamed and lunged, claws flashing. The Zhorai's lance struck like lightning, bronze ringing on bone. Solonex joined him, sword sweeping low, cutting through a raider's legs. Kethra darted behind the raiders, her twin blades finding throats in silence. Severin did not fight. He stepped back, calm and watchful, ready to shout warning or bargain if the tide turned.
When it ended, the sand ran dark.
"You fought clean," the knight said, wiping blood from his blade. "Few do."
More figures appeared on the ridge, a second wave, too many this time.
"Come with us," Severin urged. "You've done your duty. You owe no one your death."
The knight looked toward the horizon. "A Black Sun does not retreat."
Severin looked at him, and for a heartbeat, wished he believed in something that much.
He turned to his raptor, resting a hand on its neck. "When I fall," he said quietly, "free Vek. Do not let him die beside me."
Karresh climbed into the saddle. The movement had the same tone as prayer. Vek hissed, quills high, then stilled as the weight settled, as if remembering an old song. The Zhorai lowered his lance. "Eternal Kings witness," he said softly, for himself, not for them.
The raiders charged. Bronze flashed. Sand boiled. From the rise, Solonex and Kethra watched the storm, bronze flashing, sand boiling, as the Zhorai and his mount became one. But a hooked blade slipped through a gap beneath the arm, and blood poured black on bronze.
Still, the knight did not fall.
He killed his killer, then turned his head toward the humans. "Now," he rasped.
Kethra was already there, slashing through the reins and ripping away the beast's bronze mask. "Go!"
The raptor hesitated, one heartbeat, no more, then bolted into the desert, a blur of gold and dust.
The knight sank to one knee, blood soaking the sand. "Map your world," he said, voice breaking. "Leave this place blank."
He died kneeling, sword before him like a shrine.
They buried him beneath the fallen arch. Severin set the red banner in the sand, its cloth whispering in the hot wind. For a long time, none spoke.
At last, Severin said, "Some vows are cages."
Kethra watched the horizon where the raptor had run. "And some cages are all they have left."
Solonex looked down at the grave, the black sun faintly visible through the dust. "Then may the desert keep him," he said.
From far off came a single, thin cry, a raptor's voice, fading into the wind. It sounded, for a moment, like mourning.