Below the Heavens [Trad Epic High Fantasy]

Let no child walk in doubt: when the world feels void of care, lift your eyes unto the sky. The Sun will bring you warmth with the Hero's eternal love.

– Psalm 88, Book of the Sun

Oasis. Sand Baths of the Riders.

The door creaked closed behind Jyuyan, letting in just a sliver of golden light before it slammed shut. Inside the chamber, the heat clung like a blanket, dry and grain-scented. Alchemy light stones flickered in recessed wall sconces, casting a soft glow on the gently mounded dunes of fine, sifted sand that stretched across the sunken chamber.

Jyuyan sniffed the air, then frowned. Someone had been smoking krysleaf. Steward Ryu would not like this.

The Riders didn't have much, but their communal sand bath was still an adequate place of relaxation. Jyuyan exhaled and stripped off his clothing, folding it with reverence before placing it on the nearby hook. His shoulders ached from helping the laborers carry in the mining equipment and unprocessed jade, and it wasn't until he pulled down his trousers that he winced at the pain from the muscles between his thighs.

Yep, thought Jyuyan as he waddled over to the booths for sand dousing. I've been neglecting my stretches. Riders were all taught stretches to avoid saddle-leg, but Jyuyan hadn't found the time. There'd just been too much going on. I'll get to it soon, he promised the complaining muscles in his body. After we get clean.

The initial dousing was meant to clear any major impurities — sweat, grime, clinging wind-blown grit — the surface filth of the day's labor. A custom and courtesy for the others who would use the sand bath. A small alcove just outside the booths held the shifting basin: a raised trough of warm, fine sand constantly raked through by rotating paddles.

Jyuyan stepped in barefoot, scooped up two handfuls, and began with the arms — from shoulder to fingertip — before moving to the neck and face, scrubbing gently in small circles until the skin tingled from friction. The grains were sifted to be just coarse enough to exfoliate, soft enough not to wound.

When he was certain all that was left on his body was lingering oil and sweat, Jyuyan stepped over a grille and hopped several times, allowing the soiled grains of sand to fall down where it would be collected for replacement.

Finally. Time for some well-earned relaxation.

Something about the anticipation of impending relaxation loosened the tension in his muscles, and Jyuyan groaned as he hobbled over to the main bath. Slipping down into the warm sand was like letting his bones forget they were meant to carry him.

The moment he lay back, the grains welcomed him like old friends — fine as powder, still warm from the day's Sunlight. He exhaled, brushing a handful over his chest and neck, letting it pull the salt and weariness from his skin.

A rare moment of peace.

Until the door slammed open again like a blow from a smith's hammer.

"Jyuyan."

He opened one eye. Sand clung to his eyelashes.

Ryu stood in the doorway like she owned the place — which, technically, she did. She wore a sharp-cut wrap dyed in charcoal-gray, boots still dusty from the street, a leather scroll satchel slung over one shoulder. Her eyes, always half-lidded with deliberate boredom, swept across the chamber and settled on him.

"You could knock," he said, voice dry. "I'm only naked."

"I've seen it many times before," she replied.

Jyuyan shook his head at her brazen audacity. "Yes you have. With consent."

"Oh please, stop being such a ninny. Fine, do you mind?"

"You know, something about the way you assume I'll always let you have your way grates on me." He rolled his head back, stretching his neck. Jyuyan was getting the sense that whatever Ryu had interrupted him for, it was going to be annoying. "Just tell me what you want."

"You know I am your boss, right? Or at the very least, the only woman who puts up with you? Shouldn't you be enjoying my being here?"

"I was enjoying myself," Jyuyan muttered, then sighed and pushed himself out of the sand. "Toss me a towel and tell me why this is so important that I can't even rest after a three-day excursion."

Ryu reached for a linen towel, flinging it over to him. "I'm heading to the Shrine and need a guard. You can debrief me on the events of the Pyramid."

Jyuyan reluctantly pulled his feet out of the bath, leaving the comforting pool of sand behind. He began to rub the sand off his body, making an extra effort to be thorough; while the grains were so fine they were unlikely to cause friction or major discomfort later, he still didn't like the way it felt when they clung to his skin.

Ryu, meanwhile, leaned against a pillar and stared at him, tapping an impatient foot.

"Do you have to stare? My clothes are over there." Jyuyan pointed to where he'd left a bundle of fresh robes. They were a casual set, for day-to-day activities, since he hadn't planned on getting called in for overtime.

She handed him the robes. "Well, it always surprises me that your little spear feels bigger than it looks, you know."

He could not tell if the observation was a compliment or a disparaging remark, so he ignored it, focusing harder than was necessary on tugging on his boots. "I could be spending my time working to pay for food and rent, Ryu," Jyuyan muttered. "I want overtime pay."

She made a face at him, sticking out her tongue. "Granted. Five cups of water."

"Five cups?!" he exclaimed indignantly. "Forget it. I'm heading home."

"I'm on a budget, remember?" Seeing him turn around to head out, she stepped closer to grab his hand in hers, looking up at him with her best impression of wide, innocent eyes. Jyuyan never told her she looked like a blind camel when she made that face. "I'll also do that thing you like next time. Please? Can't we spend some time together? I'm always busy!"

"The only time we spend together seems to be when you have work," Jyuyan pointed out, but he relented as he allowed her to tug him towards the exit. "And this smells like work." He frowned. "The Shrine? You were never devoutly spiritual."

Incoming Riders stared as the two of them exited the baths together. Jyuyan pretended he didn't see their smirks, or the way three of them whispered to each other. Nothing had happened in the baths, he reminded himself. And since Ryu was their Steward, no one would file a complaint anyway.

There was nothing he could do about the whispers.

Shrine of Oasis, located between the Lower and Middle Tiers

As they wound their way towards the Shrine, Jyuyan suddenly had a thought. He muttered to Ryu, "Before you surprise me, is this some weird plot for us to finally get married?"

"What?" Ryu jerked her head back as she looked at him. "No, no. What gave you that idea?"

"I just thought you were trying to pull a fast one on me…" Jyuyan said suspiciously. "You know, because every time I suggest we go to the Shrine you say you're not ready."

"You're being a nitwit, we've talked about this before." She turned away from him, dragging him by his hand as they wound their way towards the Shrine in the distance. "Help me build up the Lower Tiers first, then we can think about building a family."

The Shrine sat quietly where the winding path from the Lower Tiers bent upward toward the Middle Tiers, nestled into a cleft of sandstone. This was where the Lord of Sands had kept his promise to the Priestesses, allowing a neutral ground for divinity to stay, however absent the Gods had been.

The Shrine itself was neither large nor ostentatious. Carved entirely from Sun-bleached stone, it bore the weight of time with the look of graceful humility, its surfaces smoothed by time and wind rather than polish. The stone had been etched with care, the walls adorned with carvings of the Seven Gods and murals depicting the stories of the Companions.

The structure's corners were open to the elements, allowing light and heat to pass through narrow slits that cast shifting shadows across the interior during the day. Wind chimes made from animal bone and polished glass hung from iron hooks in the eaves, their soft clatter echoing faintly. There was no wood, no fabric, no ornament that could rot or thirst—only stone, sand, and glass. The decadence of the Upper Tiers could not be seen here.

Yet it was not lifeless. The space carried the scent of old incense, and the quiet steps of the Priestesses who still kept it swept and sacred. Divinity may have left Creation, but Creation had not forgotten Divinity.

Jyuyan had always appreciated this. In a City where every droplet of moisture was counted and every sip of water rationed, the Shrine stood as a monument to memory—a place of worship shaped not by abundance, but by reverence despite scarcity.

A relief of the Seven Gods arched above the doorway—worn at the edges but kept clean, the grooves still inked with ochre and gold. Jyuyan's eye lingered on the delicate swirl of Ustl's adorned hair and the stern lines of Gered's golden mask. The doors were left open during daylight, as tradition dictated, allowing offerings of incense and dried food to be laid by the threshold. Today, he saw three offerings of opopanax resin and several uncut moonmelons.

Inside, the space was hushed and cool. Stone benches lined the walls, smooth from centuries of use. Small alcoves glowed with alchemy stones and faint threads of song drifted from a rear chamber—one of the Priestesses, reciting the noon litany.

Ryu had ordered him to recall the events surrounding the second excursion to the Black Pyramid, though Jyuyan believed a renaming was in order now that the color had very decidedly changed to gold. For his part, Jyuyan had done his best to try and give a decent account of the specifics surrounding the encounter with the new dragon, who had taken on the form of a woman, the subsequent injury she'd caused on the ShieldMarshal, and then their escape. She'd been interested in the events surrounding the meeting with Mursa Shang's caravan, culminating in the fateful battle with multiple Sandwurms.

"Just… so I'm getting these facts straight… Mursa Shang didn't die because of the Sandwurms?" she clarified as they had climbed those steps.

"No," Jyuyan confirmed. "He chose to conduct the inheritance ritual with Mursa Jyuni to give her the amount of aura necessary for immunity. After she became poisoned."

"Oh. Poor Jyuni." Ryu seemed somber, then she asked, "And have you met the Oracle's vessel? Molam?"

"Yes. I encountered him when the ShieldMarshal saved him from being swallowed by a Sandwurm," he sighed as he waited for Ryu. She was never one to take her exercises seriously, and it showed as she paused their climb to take a breather.

Ryu glared at him, with that sort of don't you dare talk to me about exercising look. What came out of her mouth was instead, "Describe him for me."

"Hmm… black hair. The looks… well, what you'd expect from a Valley Dweller. Medium height, light of skin with obvious tan. No visible scars. Seemed physically weak; his arm broke easily, but it was possible he was out of aura for physical reinforcement by the time we met."

"Not what he looks like," Ryu said with a scoff. "I meant what kind of person he is. If he were to become a Mursa, what can I expect to be dealing with?"

Jyuyan frowned. "If I recall correctly, I don't think those who aren't mursashu by birth can become Mursa…"

Her hand clenched on his wrist, a habit she did whenever she wanted him to stop arguing. "Just answer the question."

"Easy there, focus on your breathing," he acquiesced. "Hmm… I think he's the one leading a trio who call themselves the Dao. You know, the ones that stole from Steward Clayton's negotiated supply, because they killed Agytha." After a pause, he added, "I believe they refer to themselves as a cabal."

"Cabal?" Ryu raised both eyebrows.

Jyuyan shrugged. "I don't know. Their Northerner alchemist declared that in front of us."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"...the name was probably the alchemist's idea, but…" Ryu seemed perplexed. "A Northerner alchemist? That's a first. Moving on; what's this Molam like?"

"Didn't flinch when the SpearMarshal threatened him, and seems to have gotten on the ShieldMarshal's good side. Very good with words, if I'm being honest." Jyuyan paused, then asked, "What's with the curiosity?"

"I'll need to decide what to do about him. He's the Oracle's newest vessel."

"Don't get us dragged into any new wars," Jyuyan warned. He wasn't as well-read as Ryu, but every child of Oasis was aware of what had happened the last time the Oracle's vessel had come calling in Oasis. The ShieldMarshal and SpearMarshal of the time had left with a regiment of soldiers. The Eclipse had brought their bodies back after the Frost Saint's Rebellion, and the Empire of the Sun had increased their yearly tribute of jade.

"Pshyah," Ryu scoffed. "We have enough problems here. I don't think our Lord wants anything to do with what goes on in the Valley. The Oracle's feud with the Empire has little to do with us."

Jyuyan found that notion curious. "You don't think the Gods are punishing all below the heavens for that Bloody Prince's repeated attempts to access the Stairs without being invited?"

"No," Ryu said forcefully as they entered the waiting room. "Don't believe the rumors. I looked into the frequency of divine catastrophes and disasters over the last two centuries; they haven't increased beyond any specific measure that would be considered deliberate, whether it be quantity or intensity. Each generation just feels like the sky is falling because it's so disastrous to them and everything they hold so dear."

"It could always get worse," Jyuyan muttered as Ryu sat down. She gave him a stern look, nodding at the other empty seat, then shrugged when Jyuyan shook his head to stay on his feet. Despite Ryu's eyebrow-wagging insistence, it was always more important to maintain proper decorum given the difference in their stations. People said things behind his back, even when they didn't dare say it to the Steward of the Lower Tiers.

"It could always get better, too," Ryu sighed, crossing her legs as she waited for the Head Priestess. "And it's as if the Gods are too lazy to do it themselves."

"Steward Ryu, this is a Shrine," Jyuyan said, gesturing at the various tapestries featuring the Seven Gods decorating the walls.

"I know, and I doubt something is going to happen. It's not like the Gods are listening, or will do anything if they are," Ryu replied. But Jyuyan caught her eyes scanning the reliefs, as though she was daring the still images to move and prove her wrong. "And so what? What use is a God that doesn't answer prayers or tells us the correct course of action to avoid divine catastrophes?"

A knock on the door interrupted them before Jyuyan could respond. He threw a look of warning at Ryu before marching to the door, cracking it open just a peek out of habit. Light brown eyes peeked back up at him, framed by curly dark hair and the white hood of a Priestess.

Jyuyan opened the door wide, taking a step back. "Salutations, Head Priestess Yara," he said respectfully, using the most impressive word Ryu had taught him a long time ago.

The Head Priestess bowed her head to him as she entered with a tray carrying a teapot and several cups. Short of stature, her white robes trailed behind her as she walked past him. Her skin was deep and luminous, the color of burnished stone. Though age had etched fine lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, she moved with the fluid certainty of someone who had never once doubted her place in the world.

There was a grace to her gait, not performative but instinctive. Her hair was silvering at the temples, somehow tamed into a simple braid that fell down her back. Gold threads were stitched subtly into her cuffs and collar — enough to catch the light, but not enough to boast. It seemed out of place for a woman who eschewed gaudy decorations, but Jyuyan saw the weathered thinness of the material. This was a robe passed down from a previous Head Priestess, and one that Head Priestess Yara had simply taken good care of in the decades since.

"Rider Jyuyan," she greeted. Her gaze was calm, vast, and disarming. It held the weight of someone who had presided over disputes, funeral rites, and fools alike, and remembered each with equal clarity. "It's great to see you in good health. Perhaps we'll enjoy your company soon again at the orphanage? Several of the children miss you."

"Thank you, Head Priestess," he bowed his head in turn. "As for volunteering again… I'd love to, but I need to do double duties for quite some time. Rider duties."

"A shame. They badger me endlessly to take them shield sledding as you did, and it pains me eternally to reject their wishes for simple pleasures. Do make time for us whenever you can. Ah, Steward Ryu. May I offer you a seat?"

Ryu had stood up, smoothing down her clothes. A gesture of respect for the Head Priestess, even if Jyuyan knew the Steward did not put much stock in the divine.

"Thank you, Head Priestess Yara." Ryu sat back down in the seat she previously sat in, continuing as the Head Priestess poured tea for them all. "I appreciate you making time to see me. Can you close the door, Jyuyan?"

Jyuyan turned to the door, half-expecting another Priestess to enter as well before remembering Head Priestesses themselves had no apprentice.

"I'm merely a Priestess, just one with a bit more responsibilities. Of course I'd make time for a Steward." The Head Priestess offered Ryu a cup of tea, then turned back to Jyuyan. "Come sit with us, Rider Jyuyan. Praiseworthy, your commitment to your guardian duties, but we aren't going to be attacked here." A stern finger raised up at him. "No, don't look at your Steward for permission; you already have mine as Head Priestess. Sit."

Jyuyan caught Ryu shrugging from behind Yara, and he bowed his head meekly. "I appreciate the consideration," he said as he sat down on the chair she pointed at.

A cup of tea appeared in front of his face.

"Now," Head Priestess Yara gathered her white robes and sat down next to Ryu. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Perhaps you've finally allocated more water for my children?"

"Ah," Ryu fidgeted. "That matter is…" she seemed to cower under the older woman's gaze. "We're having difficulties with the budget. I have various constituents pleading for succor."

"You've changed your mind and allocated the surplus to the miners and jade processors," Head Priestess Yara stated flatly.

"I… well, yes." Jyuyan saw Ryu pull her shoulders back and lift up her head, something she always did when she felt justified. "I am providing a safe transition period for able-bodied workers experiencing a sudden change in circumstance. One that put them out of work, completely out of their control. So… yes, it's unfortunate I can't divert more funds to the Shrine's orphanage, but I haven't forgotten this issue. It's just that the timing isn't right."

When the Head Priestess did not seem to comment further, Ryu added, "I am, however, committed to ensuring that what you currently receive from the Lower Tiers remains unchanged. The children will not go hungry, nor will they thirst. You have my word." Another uncomfortable pause. "And… I will try and talk to the other two Stewards about them increasing their charitable donations. Do you mind sharing how much they each currently send you each season? I can try and determine how to best ask them to increase it."

"They send the same amount," answered Yara as she tapped a finger on her armrest. "Zero."

The number made Jyuyan look up from his cup, frustration and anger flaring in his veins. Zero?! The Shrine and orphanage have been surviving on just the Lower Tier's charity the entire time?

"That can't be right," Ryu frowned. From the way her eyebrow twitched, Jyuyan suspected fury also coursed through her veins. "Why would Jyori and Clayton stop sending donations?"

"They tell me that they would prefer not increasing taxes on their people, and have instead turned to stating their people can choose to donate directly to us instead." Head Priestess Yara sipped at her tea before adding pointedly, "Some people believe that there is no point to a Shrine if the Gods are gone. I believe the phrase 'What use is a God that doesn't answer prayers?' has been used."

Ryu's blush added a soft, rosy glow to her burnished copper cheeks. She cleared her throat, "I, ah, will look into having a discussion with the other Stewards about this. Sometimes individuals think others will do it, and then no one gets around to donating. I'm sorry about this situation, and I'm sure you've had a hard time keeping the Shrine in order and the orphanage running with these severe limitations."

"Hmm." The Head Priestess' tone indicated she was unconvinced, but temporarily willing to accept the Steward's concession. Jyuyan had just set his cup down when Yara leaned over with the teapot, pouring him a fresh cup. "Well then, I believe you have something else to discuss with me if it's not about the wellbeing of my children?"

"Oh." Ryu blinked, as though remembering she was supposed to be the Steward here.

Focus, Ryu. You came here to ask about the Oracle's vessel, remember? Jyuyan thought in silent support, wondering if she would be insulted if he mouthed that at her.

"Right," said Ryu after another moment. "I am here because a man arrived today, wearing the Oracle's color." When the Priestess did not respond, Ryu pressed further. "Would you happen to know anything about this, Head Priestess Yara?"

The Priestess refilled their cups. "That's not the question you came to ask."

Ryu accepted her cup again. "Maybe I'm leading up to the question. Did you know the Oracle sent a new vessel to Oasis?"

"Have you met him yet?" Yara asked.

"Jyuyan has."

Jyuyan looked up at the mention of his name, surprised Ryu would drag him into this conversation. He found himself held fast by the Head Priestess's gaze. "What is he like?" she asked, genuine curiosity in her voice.

"You'll find out when he visits, I'm sure," Ryu interjected, giving Jyuyan a look: don't respond.

"I doubt he will," Yara said simply. "To answer your real question, he isn't here because the Oracle ordered him to be. Though the complete answer would be that yes, the Oracle's vessel is seeking the Lord of Sands' help so the Oracle's group — the Dao — can mount an assault on the Empire's sleeping Prince."

Ryu sighed. "Unlikely. Our Lord has already experienced —"

Yara silenced her with a lifted finger. "Not necessarily military might. Just jade."

"He wants to fight the Empire's Prince with just jade?" Jyuyan asked incredulously. Ryu shot him a look of frustration, but hearing about the idea to use jade seemed so asinine Jyuyan almost thought the Head Priestess was making a crass joke. "That's impossible. Even processed jade, turned into talismans, hardly affects Titled Ones, much less the strongest active Titled One. Someone should tell Molam he's got the wrong idea if he thinks it's enough to weaken the Prince with jade. The man fought all six Monarchs – including our Lord – and walked out alive!"

The Head Priestess looked at Jyuyan as one might observe a child's outburst. "The Empire's Prince is currently in his famed slumber. This one is predicted to last two years given he took the full brunt of the SunFlower's might."

Oh. That made sense. No matter how strong one was, no one could defend themselves when they were asleep. The Empire's Prince famously never slept as a result, but the few times he suffered major injuries had always resulted in his lengthy slumber. This was news to him because the Empire had made it a point to not announce it whenever the Prince was so vulnerable. But that's just one thing…

"And the Red Army? Or the Empire's other seven Titled Ones?" asked Jyuyan. "They won't be idle if the Bloody Prince is sleeping. I can't imagine they would leave him undefended."

Ryu clapped her hands together. "None of this matters to us right now," she said slowly, shooting Jyuyan a look saying stop. "This is Oasis, and we're only concerned with the problems in front of us. The Endless Sands separate us from the problems of the Central Valley. All I want to know," she turned to Yara, "is whether this Oracle's vessel brought anything to trade for our jade."

"The Lower Tiers don't have processed jade." The Head Priestess leaned back in her chair, contemplating Ryu. "You want to sell unprocessed jade or access to the Lord of Sands."

"Yes. And, your Shrine will benefit if we get more resources," answered Ryu. "Food. Water. The things I can't give you now, and the Middle and Upper Tiers wouldn't give you even while they have excess." She leaned closer to Yara. "I know I could have just summoned him, but I would like to approach this in a more friendly manner instead of leveraging my position as Steward. Do you mind brokering a meeting?"

The Head Priestess tutted, wagging a finger at Ryu. "And why aren't you approaching him with something better? As a Steward, have you learned nothing about the importance of making things happen? Listen up, young ones. Let an old woman teach you about the concept of flow."

Ryu and Jyuyan both leaned in.

Cayn and Aybel's

The night had gone long; the food and plates had been removed from the tables, and everyone present had divulged their relevant information that would help bring each individual's knowledge and understanding of the situation up to par.

As Paradyne walked around the room to refill each person's cup, Molam leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose in tired repose. The Mursa had exchanged information more relevant to themselves and the mursashu, which he had filed away but which he found largely irrelevant to him. He had mostly been paying attention for what he cared about: how to get a meeting with the Lord of Sands.

"The Lord is in seclusion, but two out of the three Stewards can come together to call a meeting with him, and he will answer. Do I have that right?" Molam asked as he sat with Shiki on his lap. The black cat had pawed at him for headpats, and Molam had been

The three Mursa collectively shrugged. "That's what we are aware of, yes. This has not happened in our lifetimes, as the Stewards tend to not want to bother the Lord."

"Then the matter is just waiting for them to ask for a meeting with me," Molam settled back. "Should be tomorrow, at the latest. I hope they move fast, for our sake."

Jyuni frowned. "What makes you so confident of that?"

"I would be disappointed if they weren't paying attention to the comings and goings of who entered the City, much less the entrance of the Oracle's vessel," Allyce laughed. Molam pointed to Allyce and winked at Jyuni, who made a face.

"Right," admitted Jyuni. "They probably want to know if you–"

A polite knock echoed through the door.

"Enter," said Khan. Paradyne sat down as well.

A slender mursashi stepped in, his blue sash slightly crumpled from what must have been a hasty journey across the compound. He seemed surprised at everyone's eyes on him, then collected himself to bow quickly, his chest heaving with the sharpness of his breath.

"Mursa Khan, Allyce, and Jyuni," he said, his voice carefully even. Both hands held out, displaying two reed scrolls. "Steward Jyori of the Middle Tiers has requested an audience, and Steward Clayton of the Upper Tiers has summoned Molam."

Molam straightened from his chair, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes flicker toward him. He exchanged a brief glance with Khan, who gave the slightest nod — acknowledging that this was expected, yet a beat earlier than anticipated.

"So they move fast after all," Molam murmured, flicking a glance toward Allyce and Jyuni. "That speeds things up for us."

Allyce tutted. "I'm disappointed Steward Ryu has not made a move. This is her Tier."

Another knock on the door. They looked up, unsure of what to expect.

The guardsman opened the door, announcing, "It seems that two Priestesses are here, looking for the Oracle's vessel."

"I spoke too soon," Allyce conceded as Khan laughed. "Let them enter." She then threw an exasperated look at Khan, who was still chuckling, "The young Steward is still late compared to the other two!"

Two white-robed Priestesses were admitted into the room. The older one, a round woman wearing her graying hair in a bound braid, bowed to everyone present. "Greetings, Mursa of the caravans. I am Priestess Rayna, and this is my student Priestess Fyen. Thank you for allowing us to impede on your discussions, but we have an urgent message. First, which of you is the Oracle's vessel?"

When all eyes flickered towards Molam, the Priestess turned to him. "It's a blessing to be in the presence of the Oracle's color. I would like to inform you that Head Priestess Yara and Steward Ryu of the Lower Tiers, have issued a joint challenge to Jyori, Steward of the Middle Tiers, and Clayton, Steward of the Upper Tiers, for a traditional duo shui zhan – a Water Game. The winner will have the support of the other two Stewards in requesting the Lord of Sands exit his seclusion for a private audience with the winning side." Seeing every mouth agape, the Priestess added, "Steward Ryu and Head Priestess Yara would like to invite you to participate under her name and authority."

The three Mursa shared a glance. Khan had raised an eyebrow, Jyuni looked nervous, and Allyce grinned dangerously. "Well that's exciting," said the pale Mursa, slapping an exuberant palm on the table. "I knew coming to Oasis was going to be worth it. A Water Game between Stewards, the first time in eight years!"