Varran glanced at Belenor, who in turn shrugged his shoulders. Melkiar sighed. Having just returned to Fyre a few days earlier, after a long absence, the Fyros had arranged to meet his comrades at the baths. Indeed, the Imperial Army had been sent far to the west of the Desert in order to push back the insubordinate Fyros tribes, and had for the occasion called upon some qualified reservists. While the Fyros Empire had from age to age have to coexist with these rebels, they had been particularly quiet these two last decades. Recently, however, the tribe of Dune Riders had achieved the feat of subjugating several rival groups, becoming the Empire's ''de facto'' main enemy right within its borders. Wanting to mark the occasion, and to remind the rebellious tribes of his power, Emperor Thesop decided to send his troops to "talk" with the Dune Riders. Melkiar being from the Dragon's Tears tribe, the most powerful tribe subject to the Empire in the west of the Desert, but also the greatest rival of the Dune Riders, he had been asked to join the expedition in order to play the role of intermediary. The young prodigy accepted the imperial order without batting an eyelid, which was an opportunity for him to see his family again.

More than a social norm, the acceptance of nudity and gender mixing was part of a political strategy that was almost two centuries old. Indeed, before the foundation of the Empire in 2275, the Fyros were divided into a multitude of nomadic tribes competing for the territories best supplied with water and fire. When, after a long military campaign, Dyros the Great, the first emperor of the Fyros people, succeeded in subjugating many of these tribes, the will to unite them led the young sharükos to elaborate, with his advisors, the principles known as the "Four Pillars of the Empire" which soon became the values shared by all Fyros: Truth, Honor, Discipline and Justice. For all that, Dyros knew that a simple motto would not be enough to contain the ardor of his new subjects, who were more accustomed to traveling and warfare than to living in peace behind gigantic walls. So the sharükos put everything on the army and education. The newborn military institution would be in charge of educating each offspring of the Empire, in order to make him a patriot convinced of belonging to the same great family. In the newborn cities, parents were obliged to send their children to local schools as soon as those reached the age of three. The tribes that were subject to the Empire but not settled in the city were given the support of imperial commissioners to educate their children. Of course, many families did not take kindly to the Empire's intrusion, as it tried to elevate its laws above certain traditions. However, the Empire never tried to erase tribal customs, as long as they did not oppose the great imperial project. Finally, when the children reached the age of seven, they had to go to a city that housed a subsidiary of the Imperial Academy, where everything was set up to accommodate them. These children, subjected to military rigor since their early childhood, were gathered in groups destined to endure for several decades. Everything was done to ensure that each individual felt close to his or her comrades and that no young patriot was rejected. This is how, under the aegis of the Pillar of Truth, nudity became an important part of the education of the Fyros people. It allowed for the desecration of differences while celebrating their power: the Fyros Empire would owes its glorious future to the combination of its individualities.

"Well, Melkiar, you wanted to tell us something? That's why you have gathered us here, right?"

"And so the Karavan would have helped Thesop to maintain his power all these years, only to at last leave him to serve up to his people?" Varran asked.

"I hate them! Who do they think they are? To answer your question, Brandille, yes, I have met agents before. One day, when I was a child, the Karavan came to my tribe. I remember vividly that stormy morning when three shadows descended from the orange sky with hands full of gifts and speeches full of promises. I remember their monotone voices. Cold. As if dead. As if their thick, black helmets smothered all traces of life. They offered us resources and protection. In exchange, all we had to do was follow Jena's commandments. They asked for nothing more. Of course, my father refused. Well, he tried... In truth, it wasn't really a given. For yes, I remember the strange psychic pressure they exerted. I remember the hesitant and disoriented gaze of my father. Thankfully my mother was there in support. When my father finally refused, many of my people thought our end has come: one of the agents, more insistent than the others, threatened us with reprisals. But my parents stood firm, and in the end the three strangers rose into the heavens and went returning to where they had come from. I hate the Karavan as much as I hate the Kamis… They think they are our masters… And that will last as long as we continue to name them 'Powers'! For as long as homins chain themselves to them, so long will they remain slaves in their eyes! As for me, I have already made my choice, that day: rather to die free than to live enslaved!"

:''"Ah… Heu… All right. It's a story about a Zorai from a tribe that worships the Kamis, but refutes the idea that Jena is the Supreme Kami. A tribe fiercely opposed to the Karavan, who decides one day to launch a great expedition in order to preach the good word and fight against the Karavan's minions. This is what they call the "Sacred War".

:''""Do you think you and I will ever fall in love with a homin who will feel the same way about us?"