As they drew nearer to Summ, a large wooden sign came into view, carved in the native script. Soliman hurried ahead, read it aloud, and translated:

  

  “For the courageous, beware.”

  “I wonder what they mean by that,” he mused.

  Khater replied, “The wizard said this is the land of temptation. It’s likely a warning — a reminder for the brave to resist what lies ahead. Probably written for the locals, since humans wouldn’t understand it.”

  They stepped into Summ. The sandy paths were lined with small, peculiar trees, their leaves whispering in a gentle breeze. The air was warm and fragrant; the sky stretched endlessly blue. The scent of grilled meat and fresh bread floated through the streets, making the weary travelers’ stomachs ache with hunger.

  Khater, noticing their longing gazes, said, “Let’s finish walking through the town first. Then we’ll eat.”

  Summ seemed small — perhaps an hour’s walk at most — but the delicious aroma only grew stronger, wrapping around them like an enchantment.

  Soon, the travelers heard cheering nearby. Their curiosity piqued, they turned toward the noise and found a group of Sumens engaged in bullfighting, laughing and shouting with wild joy.

  The Sumens resembled humans but with striking differences: their blue blood tinted their skin a soft indigo, and their ears were large and pointed. They stood no taller than adolescent children, had thin patches of hair, and uneven teeth.

  Khater urged, “Let’s stay focused,” but the laughter of another crowd pulled their attention again. Looking over, they saw more Sumens leaping from small cliffs, gliding with wings that shimmered in the sun. Their joy was infectious. Envy stirred among the travelers.

  Still, they pressed on — their mission to rescue their children outweighing every temptation.

  The laughter faded behind them, replaced once again by the rich aroma of food. Ahead, Sumens were feasting — tables piled with roasted meats, vegetables, cheese, and bread. Chocolate fountains flowed beside gleaming platters of fruit and wine.

  The travelers’ mouths watered, but they kept walking.

  At the end of the street rose a palace of black and gold, its tall windows revealing scenes of revelry within. Laughter and moans carried out into the open air.

  On either side, merchants displayed dazzling jewels, fine silks, leather goods, and lavish hats.

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  A short, blond man approached Khater, his blue-tinted skin gleaming in the sunlight. In a lilting, flirtatious voice, he said, “You are such a beautiful specimen. Allow me to show my appreciation — come with me to the palace.”

  Khater smiled politely. “We’re just passing through.”

  As he walked away, he noticed the man still staring after him — and when he turned back to his group, the others stood rooted in place, eyes glassy with desire. They wanted everything: food, pleasure, possessions, thrills.

  “Hey!” Khater shouted. “Stay focused! The wizard warned me about this place.”

  “Can’t we just stay one night?” Slera pleaded. “I’ve always wanted beautiful jewelry.”

  The others murmured in agreement. “One day won’t hurt,” someone said.

  Khater hesitated. The temptations shimmered all around him, pressing against his will. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. One night.”

  They set up camp, then wandered to a nearby pub. Inside, people danced and feasted — some half-dressed, others fully naked, lost in pleasure. Platters of food and pitchers of drink overflowed from every table.

  When they asked for food, the bartender — a tall, thin Sumen with piercing pale eyes — grinned. “Of course! Everything is free in the city of Summ. Help yourselves.” His tone dripped with charm.

  That was the last thing they remembered.

  “Wake up!” a Ram’s voice cut through the haze. “Why did you not listen to the wizard? Look what happened!”

  Khater blinked, eyes red and sore. The travelers lay scattered outside the pub, covered in dirt, their clothes torn. Dizzy and ashamed, they gathered themselves and trudged back to their camp.

  Their belongings were gone — stolen.

  “Let’s make a fire,” one Ram suggested. “Try to remember what happened.”

  They sat in silence, piecing together fragments — glimpses of laughter, spilled wine, bodies, screams. Nothing made sense.

  Then one traveler shot to his feet. “Khater! Slera’s missing!”

  “What do you mean missing?” Khater asked, alarmed. “She was with us all night…” His voice faltered. His memory failed him.

  They searched the town, asking every Sumen, but none could recall seeing her — not that it was surprising, in this place of endless distraction.

  At last, another Ram arrived, breathless. “I know what happened,” she said. “The wizard had me watching over you, but I… dozed off. When I woke, I heard Slera scream. She was surrounded by jewels and fine fabrics — and beside her was the dragon flower the old woman mentioned. Then dark, ghostly figures appeared. They seized her. She screamed once, went still, and they flew off. I tried to reach her, but it was too late.”

  Her voice broke. “If I hadn’t fallen asleep—”

  Khater interrupted gently. “It’s tragic, but we must continue. Slera is with the ghosts now — with our children. We’ll find them both.”

  The travelers nodded grimly.

  Khater unfolded the map. “Our next destination lies far away. We’ve endured too much for one night. Let’s try to reach Seventh by nightfall.”

  The Rams agreed. With their help, they summoned a great glass ship, shimmering like liquid air. One by one, the travelers boarded, still dazed and hollow.

  As they rose through the clouds, the temptations below grew small and insignificant — a painful reminder of their weakness.

  Ahead, a glowing Frelam came into view. “That’s Lumia,” one Ram said quietly. “The land of unrest and greed. Its people are consumed by possession — they fight endlessly to keep what they own. Even their children vanish, and they hardly notice.”

  Below them, Lumia sparkled with the light of fire and explosions. From this height, it looked like a glittering jewel — beautiful, but tragic.

  Just as the travelers began to rest after their harrowing night, a violent crash rocked the ship.

  The pilot shouted, “We’ve been hit!”