Aralim was only half-lucid when he saw a shift in Tag’na’s decayed chest. First, it began to fill again with some substance more than bones and tattered remnants of skin. As muscles slowly formed in his arms, colour began to return to his shoulders and chest. Aralim had no idea what time it was, but—judging from his own exhaustion—it was well after sunrise.
Soon, Tag’na’s features looked as old as an incredibly elderly man. His eyes fluttered open, but cast around—glazed and lost. After a while, as the wrinkles began to flatten, his focus seemed to return. His skin tightened about his muscles and renewed vibrance seemed to flow through his hair.
Aralim tried to clamber to his feet, but he was not in form after staying up all night. He fell back sorely onto his rump. A few of the Aura stepped forward in concern, but he waved them away. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he assured them. “It’s nothing compared to…”
Before Tag’na was able to form clear words, his eyes widened and locked on Aralim’s. He gasped, “You stayed…” and tears flooded his eyes, dribbling down his increasingly-younger features. As soon as he had the strength for it, he reached out one hand for Aralim.
“I told you,” Aralim said, descending the stairs. “Going back isn’t an option.” He clasped Tag’na’s hand and let the Emperor pull him close for an embrace of his shoulders.
After a moment, Tag’na pulled back from Aralim. He looked more put-together now—emotionally—as though that outburst had been part of his transformation. He took a deep, shaky breath and said, “Thank you, Aralim, my friend.”
Aralim smiled wearily and sat back on the steps.
“A moment please,” the Emperor said, and Aralim climbed back up the stairs. The Aura approached, pulling at levers on either side of the shallow stairs. The oils in the basin began to drain out. He watched the Aura approach with pails of water to wash the Emperor of whatever treatments he had used.
“I may have been wrong to tell Nill I’d be around an hour,” he muttered.
“It’s good we sent Miresh to report, I suppose,” Tag’na replied. He dressed in a pair of loose trousers, an outfit for a new day as provided by the Aura. He smiled faintly when he saw Aralim’s face once more. “I imagine some of my stranger antics make more sense now?”
Aralim nodded. “Watching that was…I can only begin to imagine.”
“It doesn’t get easier,” Tag’na muttered. “The nights blur together…” He shook his head. Then he noticed how weary Aralim was. “You’ve had a long journey and a long night. Come back in a few days and we will discuss your ongoing investigations.”
“Of course. I’ll meet with…” Aralim struggled to remember Soot’s real name. “Riyaza first…. Good to know what he does.” He started to turn to leave.
Tag’na shrugged. “He is not behind the attacks,” he assured Aralim. “But he may one day be a problem…” Then he quietly scoffed and glanced back at the iron basin where he had endured such misery. He added, “…or a solution.”
Too tired to try giving it a positive spin, Aralim instead reported what he knew: “He likes you…. He’s appalled by the attacks…last we spoke. Wants them stopped.” He kept backing away toward the door.
“Go get some sleep, Walker,” Tag’na said, with a smile.