Semthak roughly sat their prisoner down on a stool in the village square, while Koruk laid the body of the imp’s companion down gingerly on the sandy ground. The village was completely quiet except for the warbles of birds and the buzzing of insects over the lake. Under better circumstances, it might have been a nice place to go fishing, Koruk thought.

  “Now then, lets have a look at you.” Semthak said, and unwrapped the headscarf from the seated imp.

  The face that stared back at them was beautiful. A slender feminine face was framed by a mop of tousled black hair, and crowned by four short black horns arranged along their brow. Almond shaped violet eyes darted back and forth between the orcs and the dead body, marred with a deep sadness and fear.

  Koruk was dumbstruck.

  “Right, you speak orcish?” Semthak asked. The imp nodded, not meeting his gaze.

  “Uhhh...” Koruk began, his words catching in his throat. Semthak gave him a strange look, and went back to questioning the prisoner.

  “We need you to drive that boat thing. Can you do it?” Semthak asked.

  “Uh, are you a girl?” Koruk interrupted. Moktark made a choking noise and struggled to suppress a laugh. Semthak’s shoulders slumped, and he let out an audible sigh.

  “I am Kiwai. I am not a girl!” The imp responded defensively. Koruk’s features froze as he attempted to process this information.

  At this Moktark was unable to hold in his giggling. He slapped Koruk on the shoulder, and his giggle turned into a laugh.

  “Don’t get any ideas little brother!” He said mockingly.

  “Shut up!” Koruk yelled, a little too harshly.

  “Quit being stupid. This is serious!” Semthak chided. “Now, can you control this sandskimmer?”

  “I think, yes.” The imp, Kiwai said in heavily accented orcish.

  “Ask him if he knows about any black pyramids.” Moktark said.

  “I’m getting to that! Would you shut up already?” Semthak said. He calmed himself, and continued. “Ahem, well, what he said. Have you seen any pyramids?”

  Kiwai’s face turned to stone at the mention of the pyramid.

  “How do you know of this, savage?”

  “Does it matter? Saw it in a dream. Speak!”

  The imp hesitated awhile longer, his eyes glancing at the body of his companion.

  “We were going there. We are all going there.” He sighed. “Why did you come here? Why did you come to our land?”

  “Why do you keep avoiding the question?” Semthak pushed.

  “I do not understand what you outlanders want in this place. Why do you seek our holy places? Why do you brave the red death and attack us? You who travels in the company of demons. I will not allow you to desecrate the sacred places of my people!”

  “You aren’t in a position to stop us from doing anything.” Semthak growled. “What’s this about...”

  “We aren’t here to attack you.” Koruk interrupted. “We just want to find answers.”

  Before Semthak could protest Koruk began explaining their quest, the visions and events that brought them there. The imp listened wordlessly, his expression calming and then becoming one of wonder as he listened to the strange tale.

  “We call it the Oracle. The temple. For you to have seen it… it’s impossible. And yet, it can only be fate that brought you here.” Kiwai said. Oben returned, turning a corner. His face was uncovered, and his now tanned skin shone through the smudged and flaking red paint.

  “Where did you run off to? We were interro… whoh!” Semthak fell to the ground as the prisoner kicked him hard in the knees. The imp tumbled off the stool, his hands still bound behind his back, and tried to crawl away when he found he couldn’t push himself to his feet.

  Moktark seized him by the shoulders, and the imp bit his fingers with sharp teeth, eliciting a cry of pain. Moktark made to hit him but Koruk grabbed his arm to stop him.

  “Wait, calm down! What the hell is going on?”

  “Should have bound his legs is what’s going on! He’s got spirit I’ll give him that. Semthak said, rising to his feet.”

  “Stay away demon!” Kiwai shouted, followed by a gibbering stream of words in his own language.

  “We aren’t demons dammit! We’re just orcs! We don’t mean you harm!” Koruk pleaded.

  “Not you! That! Changeling!” Kiwai said, gesturing as best as he could with his head towards Oben.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Drake?” Moktark asked, holding the small imp in a bear hug grip. “He’s harmless. Relax. He’s like a scruff-kitten! Quit flailing or by the gods I’ll make you quit!”

  “Maybe I go?” Oben said, backing away.

  “No. You stay. HE stays. We all stay right here, and we talk. Got it?” Semthak snapped.

  Moktark sat Kiwai back down on the stool. The imp’s eyes didn’t leave Oben. Try as they might, they could not get another word out of him. Eventually they sent Oben away, and the prisoner visibly calmed down.

  “I knew there was something off about him. The kuumlah said so. Said he was a thing of evil in our midst.” Kiwai said frantically. Even when he was fighting the monster birds, he didn’t seem nearly so rattled, Koruk thought.

  “Look, I don’t know what you think Oben is, but I can give you my word that he will do you no harm. He won’t do anyone any harm. This is a case of mistaken identity or something, I don’t know.” Koruk said.

  The imp took in a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, and he slowly calmed down.

  “You saved my life when you did not have to, and you tried to save the life of my friend. The kuumlah may yet live. If you help me search for him, I will take you to the Oracle. The… black pyramid you seek.”

  “That’s great. Thank you. Finally.” Semthak said, rolling his eyes in frustration. “Was that so hard?”

  “You mentioned before that your people were all going there? Why?” Koruk asked. He crossed his arms and frowned. Something about this didn’t feel right. The imps reaction to Oben in particular was jarring.

  “Look above you.”

  Koruk looked up at the sky. The sun was starting to set behind the cliffs, and the sky was slowly growing darker above their heads. Koruk noticed a streak of light flash through the still blue sky, and then a second one. Shooting stars. He’d been seeing them every night now for days.

  “In the daytime…?” He mouthed to himself. He noticed Kiwai staring at him, and was again struck by the exotic beauty of the foreigner.

  “The signs in the heavens speak of the end of the world. As does the coming of the changeling.” Kiwai began, his voice a low murmur. Koruk’s ears perked up as he struggled to make out his words over the noises of the oasis.

  “So, we gather to speak to the Oracle. To ask it for guidance, and knowledge. It has always protected our people and this beautiful land.”

  “Beautiful isn’t how I’d describe this desolate place.” Semthak said. “Although this valley is nice enough.”

  “Is the temple, the Oracle, far?” Koruk asked.

  Kiwai smiled, for the first time since they had caught up to them at the oasis.

  “Yes.”

  Deciding that he had nowhere to go, and probably couldn’t operate the sailing barge on his own, the companions decided to untie Kiwai and let him walk around free, so long as he kept in sight. He made no attempt to flee or attack, but stayed conspicuously far away from Oben when he could. They returned the imp’s sling to him as well, deciding that if the birds returned they’d need all the help they could get.

  The orcs buried the body of his friend, which was apparently the impid tradition. They found no sign of the lost captain of the sandskimmer, although they did find his sword sticking out of the sand a short distance from the oasis, its gleaming bronze blade shining like a beacon in the sunlight.

  Moktark plucked it out of the sand, and examined it.

  “Hah, I’ve seen more impressive eating knives. Here, take it.” Moktark said, throwing the sword point first into the sand at Koruk’s feet. Koruk pulled it free.

  The beautiful metal weapon was like nothing he had ever held before. It felt light as a feather in his grip, and the edge was razor sharp. He wrapped it in cloth and stuck it into his belt. Despite it being more of a dagger than a sword for an orc, Koruk recognized it for the treasure that it was. He nodded at Moktark in thanks, and the big orc simply smiled.

  The party stayed at the village for several days, resting, rehydrating, and exploring the abandoned houses. They seemed to have been evacuated in a hurry, and the residents left nearly all their belongings, perhaps intending to come back for them at some point. There were fine linen cloths, beautiful ornaments of brass, bronze and silver, lamps, rugs, and all manner of other treasures. They even found some orcish gold and obsidian axes, either raided or traded for.

  Moktark whistled as he took it in.

  “You know, if we packed up this treasure and bring it back home on the skimmer, it would be quite a thing. We’d be heroes. Maybe even join the chiefs. There’s a dragon’s horde here.”

  Koruk thought about it for awhile. It was a tempting idea. Semthak seemed to be considering it as well. Oben had run off somewhere again. Where was he getting off to?

  Koruk thought back to the raid on the ranch. The terror and excitement of it. He thought about the vision. Wit’thod burning.

  “No. We have a quest, and this would only weigh us down.”

  Moktark sighed, and dropped the valuables he’d been pawing at. He laughed.

  “Yeah, being rich would make me soft. To hell with it. But you know, if we come through here on the way back...”

  “Alright alright.” Koruk smiled. “On the way back.”

  Although they left the valuables, they didn’t hesitate to refill on provisions. They collected baskets of figs and other fruits, some sort of flat cakes made from fine flour, and clean water from a well. Moktark found a copper headed axe, designed perhaps as a felling axe, but more of a hatchet for him. Koruk found bronze tipped arrows, and was grateful to replenish his quiver. Semthak took some strange smelling herbs and medicines, asking the imp about them. They took also lamps, and a few pots of oil which Kiwai explained are needed to keep the skimmer functioning correctly. Half-wild goats and camels roamed about the valley in herds: the livestock of the residents. Unlike the Beast Tamers these imps didn’t need fences to keep their animals in. They had nowhere else to go. They contemplated hunting them, but decided against it.

  The stay at the village was relaxing after such a long adventure. Koruk cast out his fishing line into the water. The first time he had used it in weeks. Months maybe. He wasn’t really sure, at this point. He had lost track.

  He wondered how things were going at home. Whether the war with the Beast Tamers was successful. It all seemed so far away now, in this peaceful, idyllic place. Koruk thought that maybe one day, after all this was done, he’d like to live in a place like this. Quiet, sheltered from the world. Somewhere he could fish and sleep in the sun without a care in the world. After the quest was done, maybe. After they found this black temple, and returned as heroes. It seemed the adventure was finally nearing its end.

  He felt a twang on the line, and a fish leapt out of the water with a splash. As it landed, he felt his line go loose, the fish having pulled itself free somehow. Koruk let out a deep breath, got up, and gathering up his more successful catches by their gills, walked back to the village.

  As he did so, he caught sight of Oben, sitting on a rock, staring up at the noon sky. Koruk waved a greeting, which Oben lazily acknowledged.

  “What are you looking at?” Koruk asked.

  Oben pointed up at the sky. Across the blue sky there was a shower of lights, tiny streaks of shooting stars coming into existence and leaving it just as quickly. For a moment the sky seemed filled with them, but then the celestial event ended as quickly as it had begun.