Steelguard Akal Blumasian sighed as another stack of papers was placed on the desk beside him. He longed to be out in the field, fighting an enemy of his choosing. However, wars were won by organisation, planning and bureaucracy. He lit another candle, preparing for the long night ahead. The talks had seemed worthwhile. He had gone against the wishes of the other Steelguards, believing that a few days with ambassadors of so many powers may yield results. But to no avail. Now he had those days worth of paperwork to catch up on. He pulled the top stack of papers down towards him and something fell out onto his desk. An unopened letter lay there, distinct from all of the uniform and pre-opened documents her usually received. Years of being a target screamed at him to dispose of it or call for aid, but he was intrigued and feeling a little down anyway. What harm could it do?
He broke away the seal, the image of a flower in the silvery wax. Akal opened it and read the few neatly written words, a very delicate and precise hand.
“The well in the courtyard, midnight, come alone.”

He may have been feeling a little rash but he was not the sort to go to such a meeting alone. As he approached the courtyard with the well, several cloaked figures padded silently around the walls. Striding into the moonlight he could not see anyone. Akal almost dismissed it as a waste of time before spotting several jars arrayed along the wall of the well. He approached cautiously, seeing a note slipped under one jar. The note was in the very same neat handwriting as before.
“Here lie the ashes of Ruzena, Dorotea, Vanja and Sasa. This is only right, everyone should act so, bound by their conscience. Do what is right. A message from the sands. S.”
Akal wiped a tear from his eye as he stood there. There was a shout from the walls around him, checking if he was alright. He tried once to speak and failed. The second time he managed to croak at them to stand down. He then called for a scribe who appeared hastily.
“New orders. The wagons sat in warehouse twenty-six are to be sent West to the Eastern Oasis just over the border with the Wastes. They will be accompanied by the crafters housed in block seven.”
The scribe looked confused but hastily complied with these orders, running off to see it done, even at this time of night. One of the shadowy figures approached, asking what was happening.
“These jars contain the ashes of my wife and children. I do not know how she did it but she has returned them to me. A gift from the West. I need a moment to say the rites and see them carried on. It is only fitting that I send a gift in return.”