Chapter One—Bashir and Bashir…

“Well,” Ali said with a chuckle. “We have our man.”

“Kami-sama…” Shiro breathed.

He watched Razul moved the fish-fin blade about in the light. It sparkled iridescently as he smiled with a face full of greedy teeth.

“Master Bashir!” one of the other men said.

Ali and Razul turned as one.

“Yes?”

“Yes?”

They looked at one another and Shiro’s eyes, for a moment, widened, then narrowed to slits.

“We have all the jewels!”

Nani desuka?

“Excellent!” Razul said. “The sword and the jewel will stay with me. You two”—he waved a dismissive hand at them—“may have those jewels.”

The two men’s eyes widened. “Thank you, Master Bashir!”

Ali turned to Shiro and chuckled lightly with a shrug.

“What is this, Ali?”

Razul turned back to them as Ali began to speak. “Well,” Ali said, “he may be my brother—but just barely. You see—“

“Ali! Are you telling me we came all the way out here to Azurbadan to save your brother?”

“Save me?” Razul asked. “Ha! Is that why you came, little Ali?”

“No,” Ali said irritatedly to Razul. Then to Shiro he added, “That is not why we came. Shiro, you must believe me. I didn’t bring us here so I could save my brother at the expense of finding valuable members to add to our party.”

“Oh, I see,” Razul said. “So that is why you have come. Because you need me. Of course. All right, little brother. Tell me what it is you need, hmm?”

“Not now,” Ali said. “We should leave this place.”

“Ah,” Razul said. “Agreed!” He turned to his men. “Stop lingering you fools and come!”

They obeyed and scampered close to their leader. They muttered what sounded to Shiro like short prayers as they passed the fallen forms of the other men that had adventured with them into Azurbadan.

Razul wasted no time, and stalked past Shiro and Ali and out through the drop gate that Debaku, the tall Mar’a Thulian who had saved Shiro, was still holding open.

This dungeon had captured Razul and his party, many of his men being killed in the process. When Ali, who said Razul was a “friend” led them here, they had found the man and his party in dire need of rescuing.

Though Razul now seemed extremely cavalier about the whole thing.

Is he that powerful? Shiro wondered. Could he have escaped without our help?

He was taller than Ali and twice as handsome—and certainly twice the adventurer. He also had an overabundance of the Bashir personality Shiro was used to dealing with from Ali.

Despite all these things, he was clearly more of a rogue—more of a cutthroat, capable of dishonor. Shiro didn’t know whether he should be excited or angry.

As they all came out of the boss room, Debaku lowered the gate. Razul didn’t even look his way when he stepped through the chamber.

“So this is your friend?” Debaku asked, nudging his friend toward the man’s back as Ali looked at him.

Razul turned and looked at him for the first time. He made a face. “Ah, a Mar’a Thulian. What are you doing here?”

“He’s with us!” Ali said defensively.

Razul tossed the glowing orb he had ripped out of the aquatic dungeon boss into the air and caught it. “So this is the kind of company you keep?” To Shiro he said, “And where are you from, strange man?”

“Far away from here,” Shiro said. “We can speak of it later.”

“Indeed!” Razul exclaimed as he led the way out of the dungeon, his upper body completely bare and scattered with runic markings. As he walked, his shoulders swayed with excessive swagger.

Shiro almost rolled his eyes.

After a time they were able to come out of the dungeon where they found themselves in the outer cave. Razul stalked to a pile of crates Shiro hadn’t noticed on their way in.

Opening the lid, Razul found himself a thick leather coat lined with fluffy wool and put it on. “Did you know,” he said, “that this wool is from the fabled sky sheep of this region?”

“It is very nice, Razul,” Ali said. “But we did not come here to chat. We have an important quest.”

“Oh?” Razul asked lazily, then he got distracted. “Akh! I don’t have a proper scabbard for this new sword.”

“Raz,” Ali said. “You will like this one. I promise. But we need you to come back to Darshuun with us before the passes are completely overrun.”

“That is right,” Razul said. “There is a war on.” He laughed. “I had almost forgotten. Gods, Darshuun doesn’t sound half bad right now. I am so tired of this cold!”

“So you will come?”

“I do not know, Ali. I hear you are rich now, though. Is it true?”

“Yes,” Ali said, trailing his half-brother. “Yes it is. You can come to my house.”

“Oh?”

Shiro shared a glance with Debaku, who looked at him with a skeptical eye. Shiro shrugged. “I do not know,” he said quietly, “if we have made good use of our time.”

“I am feeling the same way, Shiro.”

Almost snarling, Shiro blurted at Razul’s back, “Listen, you fool!”

Razul turned slowly as Ali’s eyes connected with his, his glance that of a startled animal.

“Yes?” Razul asked.

“We have a dangerous quest,” Shiro said. “The rewards will be great.”

Looking at Shiro intently, Razul said nothing. Ali glanced between them, then shook his head at Shiro.

Suddenly Razul laughed heartily. “Great rewards, you say?”

Shiro nodded.

“You are speaking my language, strange foreigner. Ali, can you vouch for this infidel?”

“Yes,” Ali said. “Shiro is my friend. We can trust him.”

“Ha!” Razul scoffed. “I can barely trust you, Ali. But if the rewards are indeed ‘great,’ then I will hear you out, Shiro. But let us be off. I have had enough of this accursed dungeon. Our animals are hidden in a cave nearby.”

“But the storm?” Ali said.

“It is no matter.”

Razul spoke in a thick Abassir accent, much like Ali, and much like Ali, he was a handsome swashbuckling adventurer.

Except Razul came across to Shiro much more like an irresponsible prince.

Kami-sama, he thought. This better not have been a waste of our time…