The lights of Lantern Town were like every other town that followed the Path. Aralim saw no reason that this place should be called Lantern Town, though the ship’s captain of the Wayfinder had said that no towns north of here had as many lanterns. It was mid-afternoon, and only a few lanterns were lit.
Aralim decided to wander the streets until he found a place to stay. It was a somewhat mild day, so he didn’t mind the walk. Though it was hot, there was a breeze coming off the ocean; he could still see a few ships with wide, angled sails crossing the wavy horizon towards the city.
No houses opened their doors for him, and he found a rather cold reception from any townsfolk he passed in the road. Mostly, they just nodded to him or said, “Pleasant day to you.” His staff and blue lantern got a few glances from people, surprising him.
He could rely on one thing at least, the homeless. He was almost back at the port, having completed a loop of the city’s main streets, when three men in torn clothes invited him to join them at a shelter in the harbour. Of course, Aralim agreed. One did not turn down the grace of others. In past towns and villages, he’d been invited to stay in houses. The Lord of Tharathar had invited him to share in his feasts, and sleep in his guest chambers as long as he’d like. The lantern staff indicated that Aralim was a Walker of the Path, and he was treated accordingly.
After speaking with the beggars at a small fire pit in their wooden shelter, one said, “They recognize you, alright, but the only good the Path does here is tourism, you see?”
Another of the men present, a small black man nodded. “I was not born on the Path, but have since begun to follow it. They give nothing here. I live and meditate in peace, but also, in hunger.”
Aralim was saddened by this. He was on a journey, like many of the Walkers. Some who followed the Path stayed in one place, and focused on meditation to further the strength of their spirit. Others, known as the Walkers, believed the secret to power could be learned from places or people of power, and they sought those, as Aralim did. Many such Walkers sought out the Orrish, as the northerners called it, or the Great Star, as the south did. A light had fallen from the sky, and surely it’s power could be harnessed. But Aralim was skeptical—he sought the lands further north, for their secrets were far less sought than the well known Great Star.
That men here might live without the care of those who had money and food, even devout men… it was a crime. Either the citizens of Lantern Town had found such great power that they only rarely meddled in the affairs of lesser humans, or they had become cold-hearted.
As night fell, the lanterns of the city sprung to light, one by one. Like many towns, Lantern Town lit the night sky with a vibrant glow. It all felt so distant to Aralim. Were they hypocrites, to shine the light of spirit seeking, but not work as a community to further themselves? It was not a judgement he cared to make. The Path often defied the understanding of its followers, so Aralim tried to be content with the kindness of the homeless men and women. At least they all treated each other well—even the homeless children were cared for and protected by the group. Aralim saw no abuse.
They gave him a cot for the night, and in the morning a small breakfast of mussels they had scooped up themselves. It was plain seafood, no seasoning or flavouring, but Aralim enjoyed it nonetheless.
After he had shared a meal with them, he explained that he was going to go down to the harbour to find another ship. The Wayfinder had brought him this far, but no religious vessel would be travelling further north. He would need to find charter on a normal ship, a transport or a merchant’s vessel.
As he began to walk toward the harbour, a young girl walked up to him. She couldn’t have been much older than ten, and had sandy brown hair bound behind her head. “Can I come along?” she asked, cheerfully.
“I cannot deny followers of the Path,” Aralim said, “But I am seeking enlightenment in dangerous places. Perhaps your parents should show you the Path?”
“I’m sure my parents would just tell me to sod off or something like that,” she said, still smiling. “Haven’t seen them in years.”
Aralim stopped walking. “What? Why not?”
They were both just standing there in the middle of a cobblestone street, with the rising sun in their eyes. She shrugged. “They brought me down here when I was a child,” she said.
“You’re still a child!”
She laughed. “They don’t even live in Lantern Town. It’s the family at the shelter that taught me the Path. But I’d like to explore it further.”
Aralim knelt next to her, a little misty-eyed. “Well, if you’re going to Walk the Path with me, what’s your name?”
“Miresh,” she said. “No last name, just Miresh.”
“I’m Aralim, and I am also without parents.”
She smiled. “So, Aralim… now what?”
Aralim stood up. “We do what all Walkers do, of course, we walk.” Though she giggled, he led the way toward the harbour.
They spoke with a boat master with a wooden desk set up at one of the docks. Today was less breezy than the last, and the heat of the sun summoned beads of sweat on Aralim’s neck. The boat master told them that a ship, the Cloud-trader, was due in port tomorrow, with a planned voyage north to Bellasa two days following that. Aralim asked Miresh what she thought, and she liked the idea of setting off in a few days.
After reserving passage on the boat, they returned to the homeless shelter in Lantern Town, where Aralim got to know more of his new companion’s “family”.