Aralim and his guards found passage out of Maykren aboard a ship that the Eternal Emperor had already prepared for them. The Eastward Sentinel was not one of the slowly-drifting coupled barges that they passed in Trader’s Bay—it was a swift galley with a ram at the front, two-and-a-half masts, and a raised deck for command. Aralim was uncertain how much a single ship could do if they were caught by pirates organized in a fleet, but he was grateful for the speed of their new vessel.
In Old Numa they stopped for supplies. Aralim briefly checked in on Ukanna and Chotha, but then he was on the sea once more. He stood on the top deck and remembered the life he had lived on the sea, so long ago. This was the most he would sail since his arrival in Numa’nakres three years ago.
He also remembered the vision he had once had, of the man of iron standing at the prow of a ship. Aralim was acting on behalf of Tag’na this time—was he fulfilling the prophesy even now?
The Sentinel next anchored in the small free-city of Hawsi. The crew went about some minor ship’s maintenance and procured more foodstuffs for the quartermaster, while Aralim and Grendar took their comrades ashore to open an ear to the news.
Of the eastern war, they heard very little. The tidings they did collect came from closer to home—the Eye of Maga. It seemed a public disgrace had caused some measure of unrest in the court of Maga, which had only begun to resettle after the rise of King Eilar in 1479. It seemed that Pralla Maga-sha had been found out as a traitor with ties to a shadowy organization called the Conclave. She had been absconded from the city in the wake of King Eilar’s fury—a wrath that now saw other magicians held and questioned about their loyalties.
Aralim had nearly met Pralla, after spending several weeks at the Eye of Maga. Instead, he had met only her subordinate priestesses. He had once heard Grand Mage Rattar mention her as a fellow senior magician, along with a man called Gravagan.
Given the power that the Eye itself seemed to possess, Aralim felt the pull to investigate the civil unrest. But after thinking about it for a few moments—while his guards chatted with the sailors that had revealed the news—Aralim resolved to focus solely on his mission to find Rattar.
“I’ve never been,” said Vallan, one of the newer members of the squad. “I hear it’s got a special lake, though. Lerela raves about it.”
Lerela rolled her eyes. “I barely remember it,” she muttered.
“Raving? Lerela? That doesn’t sound right at all,” Aralim said, getting a chuckle from them both. The new soldiers still seemed caught off-guard when the Ambassador socialized in a way they understood. “There is, in fact, a special lake—but last I heard, people were struggling to tap into its power safely.”
“Sounds like they’re having more trouble than that,” Torlo added, smirking.
“Everything east of here sounds like madness,” Sergeant Grendar said, shrugging.
Aralim nodded. “More reason to get in and out as fast as possible.”
“Agreed.” Lerela lowered her mug of ale.
Vallan spoke up again: “Do we know anything about the Grand Mage’s plans, beyond his last location of Saanazar?”
Aralim knew more, but for now much was need-to-know. He knew that Rattar had been trapped in Starath during the siege, only to flee to the Isle of Dusk in time to confront Tarro himself. After a costly victory, Rattar had gone to Saanazar in search of Gravagan himself, in the hopes his peer might have more insight into Tarro’s motivations.
To Vallan, Aralim explained only Rattar’s mission against Tarro. “He was investigating an even more powerful mage—one that may have been an instigator of the entire war. It might be easier to help Rattar find us, then to find a needle in a haystack.”
Grendar nodded, smiling. “A clever solution to the problem. Do you have any ideas on how we might draw him to us?”
“Why, Grendar, I am a zealot of the Path. How rude of you to think I’ll go unnoticed!” Aralim exclaimed, chuckling.
Grendar laughed, while Lerela mocked a scowl. “Oh no, not again.”
The guards chuckled, while Aralim called for another round on him—well, on the Emperor’s coin, really. The Aura, watching stoically, said nothing.