Page 8 of A Kingdom of Sand and Ice (Kingdom of Gods #2)
I’ve heard all sorts of curious tales about phoenixians. They can be remarkably outspoken about certain things, and yet strangely secretive about others. I’ve heard whispers that beneath the city itself lies another, one that only a chosen few are ever allowed to see.
I’m not entirely sure what happens down there.
And I’m not entirely sure I want to know.
Tabitha Wysteria
It was the stirrings of unease, the hushed distress of servants, or perhaps it was Hessa’s hand, tugging gently at her shoulder that roused Alina from sleep.
Whichever it had been, the moment her eyes fluttered open, it was daylight, and the campfire, once bright with warmth, had long since died into ash and memory.
Across its charred remains, a cluster of figures stood, watching them in silence.
Alina sat upright with a start, hastily gathering her shawl around her shoulders as the blankets pooled in the sand and adjusted her rasguita, making sure no unwanted eyes saw her horns.
Hessa was already on her feet and moving.
Alina hissed a warning for her to stay back, just in case, but the desert princess strode forward with determined steps, undeterred by the potential threat.
Still shaking the remnants of sleep from her limbs, Alina scrambled after her.
As they neared the strangers, the details sharpened: not just people, but animals too.
Sleek, powerful dogs with long, spear-like ears that twitched at the faintest movement.
At the head of the party stood a girl, only a little older than Alina, flanked by the creatures like a goddess with hounds of war.
Alina’s breath caught. These were no ordinary travellers.
Phoenixians.
And not merely phoenixians, but Phanax.
Renowned throughout the realms as merciless protectors of the Kingdom of Light, the Phanax were a rare breed: elite warriors honed not in brute strength, but in precision, stealth, and the quiet cruelty of efficiency.
While their kingdom was famed for its scholars, for books and learning and delicate diplomacy, the Phanax were its hidden blade—cold, calculated, and deadly.
Every kingdom had its own revered battalion.
The Kingdom of Fire had the Red Guard, whose brutal training was so infamous it only lasted a year, and many didn’t survive it.
The Dunayans of the desert were celebrated across the kingdoms for their prowess as mercenaries.
Even the distant northern kingdoms whispered of shadowy elites who never missed their mark.
Wyverians, however, were different. They did not boast a single elite force, because in the Kingdom of Darkness, every citizen was forged into a weapon. Or so Kai Blackburn had told her once, beneath a star-laced sky.
‘Zxia,’ Alina said evenly, inclining her head with careful respect. The phoenixians had their rituals—cheek kisses, nose-pressing—but such gestures were reserved for kin or those held dear. She kept her distance. ‘Zkri zjema Alina jis.’ Hello. My name is Alina.
Hessa shot her a wary glance. The silence that followed stretched taut like a bowstring. The Phanax did not reply. They only watched.
The girl at the front tilted her head, lips curving faintly. Not in mockery, but in something close to amusement. Alina’s stomach fluttered.
It was difficult not to stare.
Though Alina had always been praised as the most beautiful drakonian in her court, the phoenixian woman before her was something else entirely. An otherworldly sort of beauty that turned the breath in Alina’s lungs to smoke.
She had never seen anyone like her. And she could not look away.
Hessa nudged her sharply, a warning laced with teasing, but Alina remained rooted, her gaze locked, her thoughts spinning. No woman had ever rendered her so utterly speechless.
The moment passed, sharp and strange. Flushed with confusion, Alina dropped her eyes and turned away.
‘Jor zxu zjenska ka jairxi,’ the girl said smoothly. ‘Par mut ker xenix zxu zxau.’ The princess is waiting for you. Her phoenix saw you last night.
‘Kar zxu,’ Alina replied, dipping her head respectfully. Thank you.
‘Kar zxu,’ Hessa echoed with less enthusiasm, her voice low. She gave Alina a look that was difficult to decipher, until the Phanax turned away, granting them time to gather their things and prepare to follow. As soon as they were out of earshot, Hessa tugged Alina back towards their tent.
‘You stumbled a little with your phoenixian, amira,’ she teased, mischief sparkling in her pale eyes. ‘Did someone suddenly make you nervous?’
‘I haven’t spoken phoenixian in years,’ Alina said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘I was taught as a child, but I’ve never had cause to properly use it.’ Her eyes narrowed slightly. ‘I didn’t realise desert folk concerned themselves with foreign tongues.’
Hessa snorted. ‘You’d be surprised.’ She casually gathered a few blankets, folding them neatly before handing them off to a nearby servant.
‘When the drakonians and phoenixians chose not to learn Sandhii, most of our people refused to learn your languages out of spite. But my father insisted my brothers and I study them anyway. Dunayans are trained in languages too. If you’re sent to foreign sands to slit a throat, it helps to understand what’s being said around you.
’ She grinned, her sharp fangs flashing.
Alina nodded thoughtfully, casting a glance over her shoulder. The phoenixian girl still stood at the edge of the camp, waiting, her stance statuesque, unwavering. She hadn’t moved since delivering her message, as though carved from golden stone.
‘We’ve never had reason to use our language skills,’ Hessa continued, shrugging. ‘But now that travel between kingdoms is possible again… who knows?’
Alina jolted slightly when Hessa poked her sharply in the arm. ‘What are you doing?’ she snapped, scowling.
‘You need to stop staring,’ Hessa said with a wicked snicker. ‘She might think you like her.’
‘Don’t be absurd.’
‘I’m not the one blushing!’
Alina hurled a folded blanket at her, missing by a hair’s breadth. Her cheeks burnt, no matter how fiercely she tried to will the warmth away. She cast one final, discreet glance at the phoenixian woman who was still standing, still waiting.
With a soft sigh, Alina turned back and busied herself with helping Hessa finish packing, doing her best to ignore the flutter building in her chest.
The Phanax showed no sign of unease at the arrival of the desert serpents returning from their morning hunt. Even the sharp-eared hounds at their sides did not flinch. They stood as if carved from stone—silent, impassive, unmoved by beasts that would have sent lesser men fleeing.
‘Zew jourx axaxi zjenskia jis,’ the lead girl announced as preparations were made to depart. The palace is a few hours away.
Alina offered another quiet word of thanks, her gaze drawn to the moment the phoenixian girl whistled—short, sharp, precise.
Crimson eyes lifted to the sky, searching.
Moments later, the heavens answered. A flock of phoenixes burst into view, their wings casting fire-tinted shadows as they wheeled above.
Alina expected the Phanax to mount the radiant birds.
Instead, they approached peculiar creatures with the grace of those long acquainted.
The beasts were unlike anything Alina had seen outside of dusty scrolls—serpopards, they were called.
Feline in body, with long sinuous necks and serpent-like tails, their movements were fluid and unnerving.
‘Trust me, amira,’ Hessa muttered as she caught the bewilderment on Alina’s face. ‘That is far from the strangest creature you’ll see in the Kingdom of Light. Most of their animals are... unusual. Only the phoenixes are natural.’
‘Natural?’ Alina echoed, frowning.
‘There’s a reason they call themselves scholars.’ Hessa was already scaling the thick rope that led to the serpent’s crown. Alina followed, her limbs aching from days of repeated climbs. The desert bred strength into bone, though at a cost.
‘They’ve spent millennia playing with nature’s design,’ Hessa continued. ‘Genetic alchemy. They create hybrids, crossbreeds of species they believe will serve them better. Phoenixians don’t tame nature. They rewrite it.’
‘That’s monstrous,’ Alina said as she reached the top, settling herself against one of the great serpent’s ridged spikes. The saddle, fitted snugly to its form, allowed her to press close and bind herself in, lest she be thrown during the creature’s undulating glide.
Hessa fastened her rasguita, a headpiece of tightly woven cloth that held her dark curls in place during their high-speed journey. One had been gifted to Alina days ago, a subtle compromise to cover the absence of drakonian horns. She had grown tired of the stares.
‘You should wear a karash too,’ Hessa advised, lifting a gauzy strip of fabric over her nose and mouth. ‘Or you’ll be spitting sand for days.’
‘I haven’t needed one before,’ Alina replied, adjusting her own cloth with mild defiance.
‘We weren’t in the true desert before, amira.’ Hessa chuckled, rummaging through one of her saddle pouches. She tossed the fabric with a grin. ‘Now you truly look like a desert princess.’
Alina couldn’t help but smile, laughter breaking through the ever-present tension that clung to her like a second skin.
A long, low horn echoed across the dunes.
Alina’s gaze lifted. The Phanax were already in motion, riding their serpopards in perfect formation while the phoenixes circled overhead, a burning halo above the caravan.
The sight was hypnotic, strangely beautiful, yet Alina couldn’t ignore the knot forming in her gut .
Though this formation might have been intended for protection, to her it felt like something else entirely. Beneath the watchful eyes of phoenixes and the silent tread of the Phanax, she felt less like an honoured guest… and more like a prisoner, paraded beneath the sun towards her own quiet ruin.