A Guest in the Summer Kingdom, pt. 1
A Guest in the Summer Kingdom
The smell of onion, herbs, and warmspice filled the crowded market hall, mingling with the scent of roasting meats and the sweet tang of ripe fruit. Traders from far-flung corners of the kingdom displayed their wares with colorful fabrics and gilded trinkets, enticed buyers with promises of exotic spices, or bartered over a cart full of ripe, golden melons. The crowd shifted and flowed like a living thing, a river of bodies and noise, moving beneath the hot midday sun.
One traveler, however, stood apart. His close-cropped lightning-white hair, startlingly bright against the sea of darker hues, drew curious glances from the locals who cast suspicious eyes in his direction. The people of R’asha were known for their hospitality, but strangers - especially those as conspicuous as Garrick - were often met with equal parts curiosity and wariness.
Garrick tugged at the collar of his soft linen robe, the only comfort he could find in the heavy, oppressive air. The humidity seemed to cling to his skin like a wet, irritating film he couldn't rub off.
"I thought this was a desert kingdom," he muttered under his breath, his fingers twitching at the fabric as if he could peel away the heat.
Beside him, Asir - his fixer and self-proclaimed guide - let a smile tug at the corner of his lips. "Well, it was. And then it wasn’t," he replied, his voice calm, with a dryness that mirrored the land’s shifting fortunes.
Garrick shot him a glance. "Your knowledge is truly astounding. I can see why Warden Thomas recommended you."
Asir’s eyes twinkled with mischief, though he kept his expression composed. "The Summer Kingdom, my friend, is no longer just sand and dust. We have rivers, you know. Wells that don’t run dry, and heat that no longer comes from the sky but from the air itself." He gestured broadly to the bustling market hall, the towering buildings of R’asha casting long shadows over the traders and their goods. "A land reborn. A land of abundance, if you know where to look."
Garrick grunted, less than convinced, as he stepped aside to avoid a laden cart being pushed through the narrow space between market stalls. "Abundance of heat and people, I’ll give you that."
Asir’s smile grew, though he didn’t respond immediately. He led Garrick through the market, weaving between traders shouting in a dozen different tongues, their voices rising above the din. The air was thick with it all - the smell of spices, the press of bodies, and the weight of unspoken deals made in every corner.
As they walked, Asir’s voice dropped lower, slipping into a more cautious tone. "What you’re really asking, though, is if you’ll find what you came here for."
Garrick slowed his steps, his hand instinctively brushing against the pouch hidden beneath his robe. He glanced at Asir, then back at the crowd. "And will I?"
Asir’s eyes flickered toward the distant edge of the market, where the bright colors of the stalls seemed to dull into shadow. "That depends. Some treasures can’t be bought with coin alone."
Garrick stopped. "I’ve already paid your price, Asir."
The fixer met his gaze, his expression unreadable for the first time since they’d met. "True enough. But here in R’asha, the real deals are always made in the shade. Come," he said, nodding toward a narrow alley between two sandstone buildings. "We’re not quite done yet."
As they stepped into the alley, the noise of the market faded behind them, replaced by the muffled whispers of a different world - one Garrick wasn’t sure he was ready to face.