The savannah sun was high in the sky as Cheick climbed the many steps of the palace, sweat running down his bare chest. Behind him, the city of glass was in full afternoon bustle, all motion and commotion as peddlers hawked their wares in the impromptu marketplace that had sprung up around the palace ages ago. Each individual stall and shop had probably been their for more than a hundred years, and every merchant could probably trace his mercantile lineage back generations, and would do so with pride. That was the way of things, in the land of the Bosanda - everything was old.

Cheick had been practicing in the training yard down the street when the summons from his father had arrived, calling him back to the palace. In other lands, he knew, those of noble lineages lived lives separate from their people, but that was not his family's way. A Bosanda must train his skills alongside his people, that they might know him should the day come when he must lead them into battle; and knew him, they did. Slung across his shoulder was his great sheathed broadsword, a gift from his sister; in his other hand he held the letter that had summoned him here.

His father was waiting for him in their usual meeting place, the "family study" - a small room packed with bookshelves and scroll racks, dominated by a single wooden table in the center. Cheick had had many a lesson in this place, and though he would never admit it, it was probably his least favorite room in the palace. His father was seated, scanning a piece of parchment, a soft smile on his gray bearded face.

The smile broadened when the old man looked up and saw Cheick enter. "My son," the Lord Bosanda said, "I am glad that you yet come so quickly, when a foolish old man calls. Does your training go well?"

Cheick brought a hand to his heart and bowed his head. "I believe I am improving, father."

"Very humble, from the man whispered of as the finest warrior in the land!" Lord Bosanda chuckled. "Master Kada tells me your studies of heraldry are much improved. Tell me, do you recognize this banner?" He gestured to an open scroll across from the table.

Cheick leaned forward to peer at the symbol - a black bird on a red background, wings spread wide. An easy question, seeing as it belonged to one of the Ten Houses. "It is the Phoenix, father. Of House Laventis, in the north."

The door opened again, and Aya stepped inside. Cheick's sister, she was as tall and dark as he was, with long black hair styled into the locks of one of the old mystics. She waved her hand and the door closed behind her, and the sorceress cocked her head at her father. "You summoned me?"

"I summoned both of you," Lord Bosanda said, rising slowly to his feet and passing the letter he had been examining to Cheick. "A message arrived from the King last night. He has declared a mixing of the lands - for two months, one of the children of House Laventis will be living among us, to teach us something of their people and learn something of ours." He paused, then shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. "Also, hopefully, to marry one of you."

"House Laventis?" Aya wrinkled her nose at that, trepidation audible in her voice. "A blood cult. Their gods are -"

Lord Bosanda cut her off sharply. "They will be our guests, and they will be treated as such." His voice softened, and he looked somewhere past his child. "'Though there are but Four Gods, in their wisdom they have seen fit to give man many ways of being,'" he said, quoting a passage from a holy text of the faith that had grown increasingly popular in modern times.

For his part, Cheick had been scanning the king's letter in silence. "Do we know who they will send?" he asked.

"Ah... no," Lord Bosanda said, shrugging. "House Laventis has seven living children, though they're not all of age to be sent. The family heir is... Ariella, I believe her name is. Said to be a clever girl... and also quite lovely," he said, poking a wizened finger into Cheick's chest playfully. "In case, I tell you this because I want you two to handle the visit. Organize the welcome, their quarters, entertain them... all of it. I don't intend to do a thing. Since your mother... passed, it seems time that you two learn to handle the job."

Cheick nodded. "I understand, father. Will Ajak be helping us?"

Lord Bosanda waved the question a way. "Ajak is a child yet. Let him be so." The old lord grinned and started towards the door, grabbing his ornate glass-decorated cane from the wall as he went. "I'll leave you to plan, then. My garden is calling me."

After their father shut the door behind him, Cheick and Aya shared a long, silent look. "I don't know how to do this," Cheick admitted after a moment, the ghost of a smile crossing his face.

Aya laughed long and loud, and settled down at the table next to him. "I believe we have a great deal of work to do then, brother."