Supposedly, the great Toringa River flowed through five biomes; Aralim would see three this journey, though he had seen the fourth on his approach to the Eye of Maga as they fled from the bandits. According to Maga and Rema residents, the river began in the foothills of the Iron Mountains, though it would take Aralim the next few months of sailing to reach them by the recommended route. Their riverboat drifted south along the wide waterway, passing fishing dugouts and passenger vessels as they transitioned from savannah fields to algae-strangled swamps. The marshes didn’t last long, if Aralim recalled his first adventure through these parts correctly.
The occasional tree would dangle vines over the cabin roof at the back of their barge, or dot the steaming scenery to the east and west of the river. Aralim spent his days helping Captain Alliam around the vessel, more to keep himself busy than anything else.
After their first week, Grendar suggested Lerela begin doing some stretches and basic exercises with the other guards. Aralim watched them with interest; he was impressed that the healed guardswoman was even capable. Yet, capable and comfortable were two different things. On the second day she joined their work out, Lerela stormed away from Grendar and the others. She cursed her weakness and her ringing head, and then slumped against the railing of the barge, watching the water while the others continued their training without her.
Aralim approached tentatively. “It’s frustrating, isn’t it?”
Lerela sighed. “What do you know about it?” she asked. She didn’t look up at Aralim and her bluntness made him wonder if she knew it was him.
“About being someone that managed to survive? A lot. About your situation? Next to nothing.” Aralim placed his forearms against the railing and watched as the dense reeds and clumplike islands drifted past a dozen feet away.
“I’m just so tired….” She trailed off. After another moment of watching the dark surface below them, she glanced at Aralim. “Did the gods-forsaken bandits die?”
Aralim nodded. “Maga sent men to exterminate them. We likely did half the work though.” He paused. “I think it’s right that you’re tired. Just like my hand, you still have healing to do.”
“It seems like ‘normal’ is such a long way off. I was trained to endure torture, but not how to heal,” she said and laughed bitterly.
Aralim chuckled. “You just… sort of… keep walking.” He smiled for a moment at the clear parallels of his own Walking. “Only you know what is going on with you right now. So, we’re just here to support you. ‘Seas know I’ve barely made sense of my time in the Eye and my experiences were much less jarring.”
Lerela looked at him again with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”
“The waters had been prohibited after the late Queen had been assassinated within them. They healed us, but only part way.” Aralim turned over his hand to show the remaining scars on his palm. “On top of it all, I had some form of vision in the waters. I’m sure this is all relevant to the Path, but I’m not sure how.”
The guardswoman was silent for a moment, then said, “So we weren’t healed completely because they murdered someone in the lake?”
Aralim shrugged. “Or we were healed to the degree we were because Maga felt you deserved it.”
“The Priests of the Eternal Emperor have said before that it is not on our shoulders to comprehend the will of the gods or to realize our own fate,” Lerela recounted. Her manner seemed to rise from moping victim to tough warrior. “I tried to kill some bandits, and I would try to again, because protecting is my duty. I just hope I can recover enough to do it again.”
Aralim tapped the weathered wooden railing. “I trust you will. You’re strong enough to have made it this far. Who knows how far you could go….” With that, he slowly walked away. Lerela let him go.
At the bow of the ship, Aralim found Nilless. She had been somewhat irked that they had left the Eye of Maga without an extensive discussion with the priesthood. She was of the mind that they had learned something about the Goddess that they should have help be realized in the city. In Aralim’s view of things, the people would learn that lesson if they only tried; likely, his actions with Lerela were enough to incite that.
Nill had only mentioned her opinion once. When Aralim and Grendar decided to set out as soon as possible, she only shrugged and began eager preparation for the next leg of their journey. It seemed her positivity could not be thwarted by a minor difference in expectations. She noticed Aralim approaching and smiled to him. The slight wrinkle over her left eyebrow rose as she said, “You seemed really disoriented after you came out of the lake and then we were going from one thing to the next for our departure. Are you doing well now?”
“I’m always doing well,” Aralim replied with a smile. “It was quite a disorienting experience. I’m only just starting to make sense of its meaning for the Path.”
Nill turned and leaned her lower back against the railing. “What was it like? Could you feel it in the burns on your hand? I think if a scar of mine were to heal, it would feel like my skin was loosening….”
“It’s hard to describe. I felt this odd sensation. Then I had a vision. When I came to my senses, Lerela was awake. I didn’t notice my hand until I made it to shore.” Aralim still only had interpretations of a few of the things he had seen. He leaned his lantern-less staff against the railing as he thought about it.
“Wait, you had a vision?” Nill asked. “What sort of vision? Do you remember? Did Maga speak to you?”
Aralim shrugged. “Maybe it was from Maga. I’m not sure…. I’ll investigate in Rema. I saw a lot of things, but Maga did not speak to me, no.”
“I wish I had gone in,” Nill murmured wistfully. “What things did you see? Can you share?”
“I saw a man of iron manning a ship,” Aralim told her, “and a green eye, along with some other things that are hard to describe.”
Nill leaned forward intently. “Do you think the man of iron is the Eternal Emperor?”
“He is the easiest connection, but I don’t think so.” Aralim pursed his lips. Ahead of the riverboat, another bend was coming. A single-oared logboat would soon be passing them by. “The Emperor has no reason to leave Rema with Rattar and myself at his side.”
“He never leaves Rema?” Nill blurted.
Aralim smiled again. “This expedition makes his first interest in the world outside Rema in many years… and he mostly did it as a favour to me.”
Nill was astounded. A small smile grew on her features, but it was matched with a confused furrow in her eyebrows. “Why? I can’t imagine not travelling, especially with his presumably vast wealth.”
“When you gain power, you also gain a certain amount of indifference,” Aralim explained. “The kapok tree cares little for the plants around it—just as the Orrish cares so little about us. With its great wealth, Rema has become confident in its own beliefs and cultures. So, it stopped looking outward.”
“You really admire the Emperor, don’t you?”
Aralim looked at Nill, then glanced back to see if Devran was listening. He would speak what he wanted regardless, but he’d prefer some warning before a religious debate. The Aura was in earshot, of course, but Aralim still would not change his words. “He’s a good friend. One from whom I have learned a lot. As a prime example of the traditions of the Path, learning from him does not necessarily equate admiration.”
Nill shook her head in a little confusion. “Well, he sounds quite mad, even if he is a god,” she said. “For that matter, so do you.”
“Looks like you’ll be taking Dullah’s role as heretic,” Aralim responded with a grin.
Nill narrowed her eyes. “Is that dangerous?”
Aralim shook his head. “The only danger is if Devran ever becomes a Queb of Tal’lashar.”
“Hah!” Nill guffawed. She was cut off as the logboat passed; she stared at its inhabitants in confusion. There were three women on it and two were shirtless in the tradition of the humid Elder Coast, the casualness of which Nill would never have seen in her home city. It was only a momentary pause before she recovered her demeanor and she replied to Aralim’s joke about Devran. “In all earnestness… what was that about? Did Devran actually think he would convert people with those pamphlets?”
Aralim gave her a solemn look, creasing his forehead ever so slightly. “…he thinks he did,” he said.
Nill shook her head and dissolved into laughter as their barge rounded the bend and approached the edge of the rainforest. In a few weeks they would reach the harbour of Varravar, purchase passage on a proper galley, and set sail for the jungles of Numa’nakres.