Chapter Text
The wind whispered across the endless dunes of the Scarhara Desert. A scorching sun baked the land in unforgiving heat, its light glinting off the precious scraps of Silken Sand, the lifeblood of this desert. On the horizon, a massive sprawling structure loomed, sandstone towers and buildings creating a Kingdom; a Kingdom of Sand.
And Scar was the ruler.
Scar shifted on his throne, anxiously scanning the papers and reports in his hands. He was due for a speaking with his counsel about the Silken Sand trade with the Dogwarts faction of Dark Oak. Trade was how his Kingdom remained afloat on this sandy sea, and Silken Sand was hot on the market. Its explosive and mystical structure was the perfect fuel and energy source, and the reason his Kingdom had been built in the first place.
Those Dogwarts monarchs were always causing a fuss, and Scar was hoping the upcoming Banquet of Kingdoms would clear up any squabbles regarding his precious resources.
Leaving his papers, Scar drifted over to the large balcony to the left of his throne, his cane clinking on the smooth marble floor. He surveyed his land, his people, standing high up above them like a guardian angel. The bustling sounds of the market at noon drifted up to him. Shops and stalls lined the cobbled streets, each alleyway decorated with swirling fabrics in ruby reds, emerald greens, and sapphire blues.
Scar sighed, leaning on the balcony railing casually for support, gazing down at the busy shapes.
Heavy footfalls echoed down the hallway to Scar’s throne room, and the royal turned. He heard the throne room door open and watched as one of his counsel members approached with a scroll in his grasp. His white scarf billowed in the air behind him, and he was dressed in soft cyan blue and gold cloth. Scar smiled at the man warmly.
“Cub,” Scar pushed off from the railing and met Cub in the middle of the throne room.
“Greetings, my lord,” Cub answered, unrolling his scroll in a flourish. “I bring news from the guests of the Banquet, and from The Royal Desert Guard that I believe you would wish to hear.”
“Hm, how intriguing, " Scar mused. “Shall we walk and talk?”
Scar and Cub exited the throne room and strolled down the halls of the Sand Kingdom palace. They passed several servants and Guards who all bowed their heads when they saw their ruler passing by, his striking green regalia and shiny golden crown popping against the more muted, creamy colours of the palace interior. When they eventually reached the main ballroom, which was a long walk from the throne room, Scar had been caught up with the travel plans of visiting monarchs for the Banquet of Kingdoms.
They stopped in the middle of the ballroom, sunlight fluttering down from the grandiose skylight high above. If Scar tilted his head upwards, he could feel the sun’s gentle rays warm his skin.
Cub cleared his throat, “Finally, the scouts on the outer rims of the desert have reported sightings of…” Cub paused, his brow furrowing. “Avians.”
Scar tried not to startle, his chest tightening. Avians? In his desert?
“The Royal Desert Guard wishes to know if they should increase surveillance and patrols,” Cub finished, rolling up his scroll and fixing Scar with a well-hidden but worried look.
Scar sucked in a breath, his smile wavering.
He snuck a glance at the stained glass skylight, craning his neck as he looked up. It was a historical piece, created by one of his very late ancestors. It told the story of an epic mythos of old, a tale of Avians ravaging crops and attacking innocent people, leaving nothing of value in their wake.
He had contemplated that stained glass ceiling since he was young; Scar had memorized every snarling Avian face, each razor sharp talon, every grain in the glass.
That was precisely why Avians were shooed out of the land, too dangerous and wild to conform to civil society. Now, the strange creatures were spotted once in a blue moon. It was a shock that sightings were even being reported to him in the first place.
Scar stared at that skylight, collecting his thoughts.
“Yes,” the ruler decided. “Inform The Guard to increase surveillance. We want to make sure our people are safe.”
Cub bowed his head, then swiftly left the room.
Scar slowly traveled back to his throne room to collect his papers. He shuffled through them again before straightening his shoulders, feeling the cold metal of his crown on his scalp.
Protecting his people was of most importance.