Chapter 1.2

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Anaphe
The Season of Heat
Fan
án the 29; 2421

The city of Anaphe stood proud at the tip of Oceana's southern peninsula, towering over limestone cliffs and facing east towards the ocean. At its feet rivers had worn valleys and gorges into the rock throughout the years, obstacles that generations of men mended with wide stone bridges. Not fire nor flood nor years of Dramorian rule had ruined them; they stood as a reminder of the city's resilience, and marked the greatest difference between Anaphe and her twin city to the north.

Imran disliked both of them, but dreaded visits to Anaphe far more.

Like Armathia, Anaphe's walls were white, gilt gates gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. Many of Anaphe's towers, though once just as proud, had fallen prey to the last Dramorian occupation, leaving only a handful of the oldest stretching up into a cloudless sky. Imran thought them fine to look at, but disliked the sight of them all the same. His heritage was impossible to hide within Anaphe's walls, and as a result he tended to receive a frosty welcome from its inhabitants.

He would much rather spend the season along the desert border, else traveling through the settlements that sprawled past Anaphe's walls towards the water. Little hamlets clustered along the coastline's many inlets as far as the eye could see. Yet few ventured inland along the banks of the river, preferring to build upon the beaches – for past the great ravines at the tip of the Anaphean peninsula, the jungle began.

"Why am I not surprised?"

Imran came to a halt beside Valory, whose horse tossed its head with an impatient whicker. The bridge before them told the tale of the storm that had rolled through two nights prior. Though the river remained swollen with rain, water levels had subsided enough that, at first glance, the maze of flotsam and debris blocking the entry to the bridge made little sense. A heartbeat later, Little muttered,

"Good job we went overland. Looks like the coast was whacked something fierce."

Gabriel swung down from his horse, picking his way ahead to take a look at the severity of the blockade the storm had constructed.

"Early for the season," Valory agreed. "Do you think we can get through it?"

"Most of it looks like brush. There's one tree across the middle of it all, though – and it's not a small one. I don't think we can jump it," Gabriel called. Twisted vines and all manner of sodden shrubbery obscured him from the waist down, but Imran could see the obstacle once Gabriel climbed up to stand atop it.

"Bollocks," Little said, drawing a morose sigh of agreement from Imran and Valory alike. The tree was huge.

"If we can't move it we'll have to backtrack and take another route." Valory jumped down from his horse, hitching the reins to a rail at the edge of the entrance to the bridge.

"We lose daylight," Imran said. His only response lay in Valory's mirthless huff of agreement.

Some of Oceana's inland cities rose from the jungle, but they were few and far between. Most knew better than to inhabit its borders, and those who traveled within them did so at a rapid pace. Men were outmatched by jungle creatures during the most peaceful of times. Now, with strange sightings and violence upon their borders, Imran couldn't think of a place he'd take more care to avoid after sunset.

Except, perhaps, the deep waters of Oceana's gulf.

"You and sea-witches," Gabriel said, a half-smile turning his lips.

Imran hated it when others peeked at his thoughts. "Stop it."

"Not this again, Imran — you know I can't help it."

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