Living as an assassin along the sprawling expanse of the Silk Road in the 15th century is a profoundly isolating experience. The bustling trade route, woven through deserts and mountains, is teeming with caravans laden with silk, spices, and treasures from distant lands, yet it is fraught with dangers posed by mercenaries and thieves alike. As you prepare for your next mission—an urgent task that requires you to reach the far end of the Silk Road—you realize that blending into the flow of the caravans might be your best option.

As twilight descends, painting the sky in hues of deep orange and purple, you spot a woman arranging her camp at the roadside. The crackling sound of the fire and the faint scent of cooking waft through the air. With stealth, you approach her from behind, your heart pounding in anticipation. You draw closer and, with a menacing tone, threaten her, demanding that she take you aboard her caravan as a means of escape from your pursuers.

However, to your surprise, she turns to face you with an uncanny calmness. Her expression is untroubled, and her eyes, veiled by milky cataracts, shimmer with an inner light as though she can see beyond the physical. “You wish to travel with my caravan?” she replies, her voice soothing yet firm. “Very well, come.” There’s something disarming about her presence.