After a month of travelling through The Dragon Peak mountain range, Zammar, Ren and Tristan finally reached the city of Kampalla, only to find it razed to the ground. Emotionally charged, Tristan confronted his Und'kal friend, Aythyl. The two once again initiated the strange Und'kal ability of mind sharing, allowing Tristan to look through the eyes of several members of the alien species. In the process, he began to lose himself in their more violent conscious. Sensing this, Aythyl terminated the connection, upon which he was attacked by an enraged Tristan.
After regaining self control, Tristan joined Ren and Zammar. Zammar had summoned his beloved mount, a horse named Arion to carry them across the desert planes of The Blacklands. On its back, the trio rode fast and hard for three days until they finally reached the city of Candahar. Despite the confrontation at the city's gates, Candahar was isolated and had seperated itself from the rest of The Blacklands. Chief Abejide recognized his old accomplice, Zammar, and reluctantly allowed them through the gates. The city had already begun preparing itself for battle, awaiting the enormous Und'kal horde that marched towards them.
Meanwhile, Commander Abasi had fled the lost battle for Kampalla through a secret underground passage. He brought three companions with him - Jamil, Hadi and his old friend Imad. The three managed to scrounge camels, and made to ride across the desert, aiming to warn the Pharaoh of the impending horde of monsters. A few days into their journey however, Imad spotted a horse charging across the desert in the distance. Abasi, not a man to tolerate white scum in The Blacklands, made pursuit.
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Ren woke slowly, watching the dust motes above her dance lazily in the strong noon sun that streamed in through the window. The bedding beneath her was soft, pulling her in with its seductive embrace. Here, she could lie forever. The fox kit was huddled up on her belly, its big black eyes looking back at her curiously.
"Hi Air," she whispered, stroking the soft fur. "That's a nice and strange name...Better than Brenda at least." She grinned at it, reluctantly moving to get up. Air yapped before leaping off and bounding towards the door, where he turned back to look at her expectantly. Sluggishly, Ren followed him through and out of the empty palace in to the city streets.
Candahar reminded her only slightly of when she had ventured in to the Blacker regions of Torsts under city. It felt so much more primitive, the only real similarity being the colour of the people and the way everyone seemed to stop what they were doing to look at her. In Torst, she had mostly gotten suspicious glares. They were used to seeing whiter people, but the mistrust was strong. Here, people regarded her with wary curiosity; many of them had probably never seen someone with skin as light as hers. Of Course, many also looked at her with a lot more aggression, the sparks of hatred easily showing behind eyes on otherwise composed faces.
It wasn't their fault, she knew that. That was the way they had been raised, the seeds of hatred sown strongly through generations and further fueled by a millennium of bloodshed. These people must have felt justified in their mistrust. Still, the propaganda machines of The Blacklands certainly had a lot less impact in Candahar than they would else where. In Kairo, she would already be dead.
Walking through the crowded city streets, Ren tried her best to smile at all of the strangers that stopped to look at her. It was like she carried a little bubble of silence around her. Within a few meters in every direction, there was no noise from the city folk. Silent hushing accompanied her, as they dropped whatever they were doing to turn and stare with wide eyes. And once she had passed a threshold, they began gossiping behind her back.
