On the day of Miresh’s 14th birthday, Aralim had still not heard from the Emperor. He gathered with his friends—and hers—in order to celebrate another incredible year, but he found himself distracted while they ate. He had made Sunaza speak, but still Tag’na had not summoned him. He couldn’t have been disappointed in the amount the corrupt lord had divulged, could he?
Sunaza had begun by describing some markets, warehouses, and temples where the secretive gang hid, though he had urged Aralim not to allow any immediate attacks. It was, he said, too soon after his capture. Sunaza’s chief concerns remained for his daughter’s safety.
Next, the battered and winded captive had told Aralim of an upcoming attack. After heavy casualties had been accrued in the attack against Soot, the gang had delayed their next strike until early in the 6th Moon. Sunaza didn’t have a specific date, but it was something at least.
Aralim had then pushed for clarification on how Sunaza knew this—and who he knew inside the organization. It seemed he was usually contacted by letter, but had once met at a tavern with a major player in the group. It was there that Sunaza had gleaned many details. This nameless criminal had implied the backing of an “alliance from among the Empire,” which Lord Sunaza had taken to mean lords and individuals of influence from other cities than Rema. He had learned no names, but he did believe that such an alliance existed as the driving force of this revolt. Aralim, thinking of Tarro and his war in the east, had asked of foreign influences; the corrupt lord knew nothing of this.
The last thing that Sunaza recounted to Aralim—again at the Walker’s urgings to provide details of those he knew were involved—had been dredged up from nearly a year earlier. He had heard the name of a magician helping the gang, though he had never met nor had even saw the man. This magician, he had told Aralim in that cell, was Tulom or Tuxom or something similar.
Aralim had been immediately reminded of “Master Tussom,” one of the prior visitors to the prisoner of the Opal Valley.
Surely all of that was enough to earn some favour with His Ascendance again, but Aralim’s pilgrimage to the Valley had been nearly half a month earlier and he still had heard nothing.
Miresh called his name, drawing Aralim back to the birthday dinner. Most of the food was done and Ko’nagar’s generous repertoire of desserts was quickly disappearing, too. “Aralim,” Miresh repeated, smiling when Aralim glanced at her. “Have you thought any more on destinations? It seems like most places you could go are becoming embroiled in the war?”
Aralim shrugged. “Not really. I want to see this bandit situation through before departing again. Perhaps I should do a tour within the kingdom. I’ve only really spent time in Rema…”
Nill snorted playfully. She had dressed up in a silk dress for Miresh’s occasion. “I was actually a little confused when I first met you as to whether you were the Ambassador of Rema or the Ambassador of Numa’nakres…”
“I think I’m just the Ambassador for the Emperor, actually,” Aralim clarified. “I really don’t pay attention to titles.”
That brought out more laughter from those attending. Miresh’s friend Riela giggled—an oddly similar sound to Hayan’s giddy laughter. The actor and performer had consumed his fair share of the wine already, while his wife Arith tried to keep her sobriety for Miresh’s sake.
Riela contributed to the conversation. “Keb’kres is spectacular. I visited it when I was seven, I think. The Old Town still has stone monuments from centuries ago!”
“See,” Aralim said, pursing his lips, “it would be good to see those parts of Rema. Maybe I’ll just go of my own accord. I enjoyed being a pilgrim again, earlier this Moon.”
Miresh nodded. “I want to be a Walker again. I’ve been practicing Journeying magic still, so maybe Master Enarrin will let me teleport myself soon. That is the main reason I haven’t gone with you yet.”
Hayan raised his eyebrows, while Nill nodded, impressed.
“Becoming a master of both magic and martial arts isn’t enough for you anymore?” Aralim asked.
Miresh guffawed. “I’m not a master of anything,” she rebutted, defensively. Nonetheless, she had experienced yet another vision while Aralim had been in the Valley. In her latest, she had seen an expanse of ocean dotted with rocky, mountainous isles, unlike any she had seen. On a cliff overlooking this sea was a house. Inside the structure was a group of praying people. One of them had her knife. Towards the end of the vision, she had realized that they were praying to a person in that very room. She had awoken chanting, “Rise above, rule forever,” obviously a religious mantra of that strange oceanside ritual.
To drive home the point that she wasn’t trying to be the “master of everything”, she added, “I just miss boats.”
Hayan waved a finger toward her. “You can go on the river anytime,” he blurted. “Our stage company will be doing a performance on a luxury barge. You should come to that—I’m sure I could convince one of the Selected to part with a ticket.”
To Aralim, Hayan was starting to seem like quite the celebrity. The politicians and nobles of the Palace seemed eager to attend his performances. “Sounds like an excellent birthday present.” Aralim would hold him to it.
Hayan glanced at Arith, as though uncertain he actually could get an extra ticket. He coughed, but then forced a smile. “I’ll bring it up with them tomorrow.”
Aralim chuckled. “It’s fine—I don’t think that’s the kind of boat we’re talking about.” He smiled to Miresh. “Something more like the one you had your first vision on, would be nice, don’t you think?”
“Exactly!” Miresh exclaimed. “It has to be going somewhere.”
With a glance around the table, Aralim told his friends, “You all should have seen the boats we used to travel on…. Some were barely more than rafts by Numa’nakres’ standards.”
“I’ve seen the ships of the east,” Hayan assured them. “A swifter method of travel, no doubt, but hardly as comfortable as the barges of Trader’s Bay.”
“For those more concerned with where they’re going than how they get there,” Aralim added. He wiped his mouth with a dining cloth and set it aside. “Speaking of Walking—Miresh, care to join me? When we get back, Hayan, you owe me another round of cards.”
“Let’s go,” Miresh agreed, pushing back her chair.
They didn’t take long with their sandals and were soon outdoors, walking through the last rays of the setting sun. Narr, broad-shouldered and hooded, followed from a distance. The streets were not overly crowded these days. It seemed the constant threat of gang violence had had an impact on the city’s morale.
Aralim’s lantern staff tapped the cobblestones in stride with each step. “So, I want to ask you where you think the Path will lead you.”
The 14-year-old thought about it quietly. After a minute, she said, “I think I’ll be the next Grand Mage.” She smiled, hopeful and determined. “The Emperor trusts me, and I learn more about magic every day. I think I could surpass Rattar one day.”
“It’s a definite possibility,” Aralim agreed. “You have a combination of raw skill and time that makes you a prime candidate.”
“What about you?” Miresh returned.
Aralim sighed. “Well, I seem to have angered Tag’na with my recent trip…. But the beauty of being a Walker is that as long as my legs work, I’m going the right way.” To lighten the severity of what he was discussing, he lifted his knees to jokingly march along beside her.
Miresh was quiet and undistracted. “I wondered about that,” she murmured. “You told me where you were going, but I wasn’t sure if Rattar had the Emperor’s approval when he told you to go. It explains one thing, though…. The Emperor has been more withdrawn than usual. I think I’ve only seen him once and he barely stopped to speak with me.”
Aralim had been considering sharing some of what he had learned in the Opal Valley. Instead, he decided, “I’ll spare you the details of what I learned, for the sake of your relationship with him. I’m going to talk to him soon. He needs to know it wasn’t done out of spite.”
“I think he does know that,” Miresh explained. “But… everyone he knows pries for his secrets without his permission. He probably feels as though you must not understand that, despite all this time as his friend. I think that would hurt, if I was in his shoes.”
Raising his eyebrows, Aralim looked at his young companion with respect. She always surprised him with her insight. “Yes,” he said, “and these secrets were big ones. But to help him, I needed to know. Rattar was right. The Emperor hides his secrets because he thinks no one will understand. But someone needs to know, before they can empathize with him.”
“You’re probably right. You know more about people than I do,” Miresh said. “I think it will just take him some time to see it that way.”
Aralim nodded. “I should bring him something… not that there’s anything he doesn’t already have.” A moment passed, and he added, “Perhaps some flowers.”
Miresh smiled, but she was clearly contemplating gifts just as Aralim was. It needed to send the right message, since it would likely be something Tag’na could procure himself one way or another. They walked together for a while, perplexed.
It was Aralim who broke the silence once more. “If perhaps I end up leaving Rema permanently… it might be best for you to stay here a while longer.”
She stopped in her tracks. “No,” she said, with determination. “I’ll go with you. Our Paths lead the same way.”
“You can always find me with magic,” Aralim pointed out.
But Miresh only shrugged. “Maybe, but that’s not how we got here. I know you thought that I was leading you on the Path for a while—that I was a better way forward than the Orrish. But that went both ways. You would not have come to Rema without me, but I would not have come to Rema without you either. I’d still be a beggar in Lantern Town, likely. If your Path leads you away from here, then so does mine.”
Aralim smiled ear-to-ear. “Well, then, we’ll have to teach Nill what a real walk is like. I think her calluses have nearly healed…”
Miresh giggled. “I think she’ll fit in nicely,” she added. Then she paused once more. “Well, we’re not leaving right away, are we?”
Aralim glanced back at her brooding body-guard. With his burnt orange robe, he seemed like a copper shadow. “Not unless Narr plans to chase us away,” he said. Narr looked at him blankly, and Aralim turned back to Miresh, tilting his head for comedic effect. “I’ll go speak with Tag’na in the next few days—see if I can make amends.”
“I could come. I think he’d be less likely to hurt you if I was there,” Miresh laughed. Then she quickly quieted, realizing that may not have been as obvious of a joke as it should have been.
Aralim chuckled again. “I think I’ll be all right. If he wanted me dead, I would be.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Miresh said, glancing back at Narr.
“But, it’s good to know I can count on the next Grand Magician of Rema to protect me,” Aralim pointed out. Miresh laughed again, and they soon returned to their estate on West Corid Avenue. After all, Hayan owed Aralim another round of cards.