It took the better part of a week to organize their tour of Numa’nakres—and Aralim heard not a word from the still-pouting Eternal Emperor. It might have caused him some frustration, but Aralim’s damaged relationship with the Emperor only manifested as a slight distraction while Miresh walked the Path at his side. Arranged by Master Enarrin, Master Velad’na would accompany Miresh and continue her training as they ventured from city to city. Of course, Narr would be continuing his vigilant protection of the Grand Mage’s apprentice, while Nill followed, eager to learn more of this new land.
Then—to everyone’s surprise—an Aura arrived on the doorstep of their West Corid Avenue estate on the very morning they were to depart. The middle-aged man said nothing and presented no note. When they opened the door, he walked quietly indoors and stood in the foyer until they were ready to depart. In the very least, this meant the Emperor approved of their tour—and Aralim’s investigation.
Maybe the gifted lantern was working after all.
As had become a tradition, the Walkers travelled the Ake’ma River with Yau’s Company. For the first few days, Aralim’s impression from Yau was full of two primary emotions: excitement, that his business had continued to flourish on Aralim’s fame alone; and anxiety, as Yau struggled with the stress of running a significant business. He had been stuck up in an office when they found his Company’s boats along the docks. Another captain in Yau’s employ had fetched the raft-master, who insisted on ferrying Aralim’s group himself.
At least a week into their voyage downriver, Aralim managed to broach another topic. He learned that Yau had read Devran’s account of their desert adventure. As he and Yau pushed them along the river on poles, Aralim asked, “So, as a reader, what did you and others think of the book? I’m afraid no one will tell me an honest opinion.”
“I can’t believe you were pursued so,” Yau said first. “Boaters on the Ake’ma encounter the occasional bandit group—or Primals—but nothing like that.”
“It was an unexpected encounter, to be sure,” Aralim agreed. “This trip should be better.”
“Well, I’ll steer us through trouble, no matter,” Yau assured him. “It would only further bolster my reputation. Say, I’ve been meaning to ask you… how would I go about joining the Path? Er—is ‘joining’ even the right word? Do I just add some lanterns to my boats and keep trying to build my business better?”
Miresh, who had been sitting near Master Velad’na, turned to focus on their conversation. Nilless, sitting closer to Aralim, was already intrigued.
Aralim only shrugged. “You can add a lantern if you wish, but the Path is more of an outlook. It’s a Path because you must always try to move forwards. Build your business better. Build yourself better. Look to those around you—are they progressing faster or slower than you? Why? Learn from the Path, but also trust it to teach you.”
“It works,” Nill said, and smiled to Yau.
Aralim raised an eyebrow and glanced at Nill. Sometimes Nill caught him off-guard with her approval of the Path. She was always so quick to accept and be excited by concepts she came across, he sometimes forgot how deeply she learned and understood them, too. She turned her smile toward him pleasantly, and Aralim glanced back at Yau, who was mulling what they had said. Of course, Aralim had thought about a deeper relationship with the Asha woman—she was attractive, intelligent, and interested in the Path. Still, he worried about lacking the proper commitment to such a relationship—his goal, in all things, was self-betterment along the Path. Considering it consciously, he thought it best to subtly leave the choice of how to proceed to Nill.
Miresh’s addition to their conversation interrupted his thoughts. “We’ve all travelled so far,” she said, “but there are many followers of the Path in the south that move forward in their daily lives, in their homes, and in their jobs.”
“Do what seems right, Yau,” Aralim decided, more concisely. “That’s all I have ever done.”
This only seemed to perplex the boat-master further. “I think that’s what I’m doing,” he said. “Though sometimes I’m not sure about a decision, or I doubt how long this all will last…” Yau spread his hands to the raft around him.
“If I took the time to doubt myself, I would never get anything done,” Aralim said with a smile.
That, at last, reassured Yau. The short, round-bellied man pushed with his river pole and looked ahead again. “I hadn’t thought of that. I am quite busy—that should be my focus.”
“Busyness is good,” Miresh said, but then she looked at Master Velad’na with weariness. The sixty-year-old man was bent over a narrow book, focused on his own reading. If it was possible to have “magic scholar” as an identity, this man embodied it.
A moment passed. They drifted under vine-cloaked branches that watched warily over the waterway and its many weaving canoes and riverboats. Scattered clouds, visible only along the wider stretches of the river, cast errant shadows across the rolling rainforest.
“You’ve been making lots of trips to Maykren then?” Aralim asked after a moment.
Yau shrugged, puckering his lips under his ever-increasing moustache. After a moment he said, “A few. My employees spend more time on the water now than I do.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping for a recommendation for what I should focus on while I’m there.”
At that, Yau’s eyes lit up and he turned toward Aralim. “Oh, well I’m from Maykren, my friend!” He considered the request for recommendation for a moment, then asked, “Have you heard of the Sunken Temple? It’s a sight unlike any other.”
“Politics and sights are all well and good. But I’m the Ambassador to a land I barely know,” Aralim explained. “You’re from Maykren. If I want to learn about the heart of your home, where would I need to go?”
Yau pushed them through the choppy waves again, pondering the options. “Hmm. Well, there’s the Magistrate’s Hall; it’s to Maykren what the Iron Palace is to Rema. But there are a few popular taverns that spill into the streets each evening if you want to mingle with Maykren’s people.”
He glanced at Miresh and Nill; they knew that was exactly what he wanted to do. “Which one is your favourite?” he asked their amiable guide.
“I always frequented the Wide Net Tavern, on the waterfront, but I’m a seafaring man at heart,” Yau said.
Aralim felt a wave of nostalgia, but it was Miresh who piped up. “Aralim spent years at sea!” she blurted. “We should go there.”
Aralim grinned, but he was quite sure Miresh wouldn’t be allowed in many such establishments.
“I’ve not spent much time on any ocean,” Nill said, “but I’ve been curious about mariner life for a while. I’m in.”
“So, we’ll visit the people before the magistrate. Excellent,” Aralim decided, with a nod.
“Maybe I’ll see you there, then,” Yau said. Considering what they had said, his expression turned sullen. “At either, I suppose…”
He might have business connections at the Magistrate’s Hall, or see Aralim at the clearly more exciting option—the tavern. Aralim shrugged. “You’re welcome to travel with us for a while, Yau, but I’ve been known to sleep under the stars at times.”
Yau chuckled and gave Aralim a wink. “I’m afraid Maykren is as far as my Path goes. Thanks for the offer, though.”
Out of nowhere, a low branch nearly caught the boat-master in the face, but he deftly ducked it and spryly held his feet. Aralim had nearly dropped his river pole in concern, but then smiled and they continued steering the boat down the Ake’ma. Another raft passed, earning them a handful of waves and a few greetings. Miresh soon returned to her studies, and Nilless, to watching the lush forests—a world that was, to her, quite foreign.