☀️ Arselia and Akonia

Alaria looked appraisingly at the provisions she had found, and then at the unconscious Berimir. The food they found might be enough for both of them, but only if the journey went smoothly and they reached their destination on time. According to the swordswoman's rough estimate, the chances of this were no more than 30%. In any other situation, someone would have to go hungry. The Tanarian knew little about the young man or his skills, but common sense suggested that an unarmed sailor on land would be nothing more than dead weight. An extra mouth to feed. A burden. If the journey was delayed, or if the voracious southern sands decided to feast on part of their provisions, neither of them would reach civilization. Someone would either run away with the food under the cover of night, or even slit the other's throat during a rest stop. And even in the event of a battle, the Zimivian could only serve as a living shield. Unpleasant, of course, but one had to call things by their proper names. If he were her friend, or someone to whom she was indebted, she might have been able to object and take a risk. But if Alaria owed anything to anyone right now, it was to Her Highness. Her own well-being and the success of the mission simply took precedence over experimenting with yet another genie in a bottle. Sorry, sailor, but you'll have to manage on your own. Having reasoned in this way and upgraded everything that needed to be upgraded (especially to avoid dying in the sands from dehydration), the Tanarian equipped herself (sound in slot 1, amethyst in slot 2, 3 provisions in slot 3, and 3 provisions in the satchel, to be extra safe from the sands) and headed towards the eastern city.