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We were close.
This was what we had endured the desert journey for — Ruara’s house.
Leaning forward, I patted the Hiika’s rough neck, murmuring words of encouragement.
The texture of its skin beneath my fingers was both bizarre and oddly comforting — alien, yet familiar, like the sudden realization of a forgotten memory.
The smell of the Hiika, the dust and sweat of our journey, was now just another part of this strange, fascinating world that I found myself in.
And as much as I detested to admit it, I had begun to feel an affection for this strange creature, this beast with a mind of its own.
The Hiika, with its stubborn persistence and unyielding endurance, had become my companion in this vast, unforgiving desert.
Perhaps, I thought, as the first hints of a structure began to materialize on the horizon, Aznai was right.
The journey, as grueling as it was, had been an experience in itself.
A rite of passage.
A test of patience, resilience, and adaptability.
As much as I resented it, it was a lesson I needed to learn.
Even a prince, in fact,especiallya prince, must understand the value of discomfort.
To know the universe beyond the confines of his palace, beyond the comfort of his throne.
To appreciate the beauty in adversity, the grace in survival.
As the sun set on Enchor’s Heart, painting the sky with hues of crimson and gold, I guided the Hiika towards the faint melody and the silhouette of our destination.
With the promise of shelter, rest, and companionship on the near horizon, my heart throbbed with a sense of accomplishment.
For I was not merely a prince riding a beast in a desert; I was an adventurer, a traveler, a student of life.
And in that moment, I realized this journey was just the beginning.
Leaningagainst the Hiika as it drank from a shallow oasis, I stared at the imposing structure of Ruara’s house, set against the twilight-tinged sky.
The dwelling stood tall and stark amidst the desert expanse, its facades adorned with a menagerie of vibrant artworks.
It was a sight that filled my heart with a curious blend of nostalgia and anticipation.
Ruara had been my chief art dealer for many years.
His eye for the rare, the unique, and the aesthetically valuable was unmatched.
When he disappeared into Enchor’s Heart on a mission to find a piece of artwork, I bid him farewell with a smile, not realizing that when I heard from him again, it was with news that shook me to my core.
Ruara had fallen in love.
Not with a piece of art, as I’d have bet my last credit, but with an artist — afemaleartist.
The irony of it was not lost on me.
After years of investing his passion in inanimate objects, he’d found himself captivated by a living, breathing canvas.
I remembered the day he announced it.
