In the sprawling streets of Rema, Aralim and his friends had been housed at one of the Eternal Emperor’s many properties. While the offered housing at Mistress Athanu’s estate might have been even more lavish, the mansion on West Corid Avenue was still a thousand times more comfortable and secure than any place Aralim or Miresh had ever slept. Instead of sleeping in hammocks or on thin cots—to avoid the dangers of insects—they had framed mattresses stuffed with feather down. Their meals were prepared by servants, and maids cleaned their laundry. At first, that had only one set of clothes, but the chamberlain of West Corid estate informed them the wardrobes were complimentary.
As Aralim dressed in a folded blue robe, he regarded the two lantern staffs in the corner of the room with a small smile. The linen cloak was almost green, unlike his blue lantern staff. After binding his waist with a wide leather belt and its small iron-beaded tails, he chose a thin wooden straw from the supply cupboard outside his bedroom. With it, he caught a small tongue of fire from one of the hanging lanterns that dotted his quarters. He had two more to light.
He stuck his head into the hallway a moment later. No sign of another soul. He started walking, and surprised himself with the extra click of wood against the ground. He was only used to one.
“Aralim,” Hayan called out of a nearby room. The door was propped open with a footstool. Aralim paused, and his friend blinked at the objects in his hands. “Oh, is today the day? Can I watch?”
Aralim shrugged. “I suppose so.”
As they kept walking, they checked the other quarters, but neither Miresh nor Naeen were present in theirs. Miresh usually spent the mornings in the dining room, sketching or focusing on simple objects as Rattar had suggested she consider. She had not yet chosen a Crux, or if she had, she had not told Aralim of it.
Hayan kept up. He was wearing loose pants and a black tunic, as well as a big smile. “Should we find Naeen?”
“I think she’ll be there, if she seeks the Path,” Aralim said. “But it’s no matter if she’s not.”
Hayan pursed his lips, and Aralim looked back to the corridor ahead of him. They reached the stairs down to the first floor of the mansion, and passed one of the maids on the way down. She nervously scurried past. They didn’t interact with the guests much, Aralim noted. He kept up to the wooden rasp that each of his hands caused as he walked.
They marched into the dining hall to find Miresh and Naeen sitting across from one another, and Hayan chuckled. “Is that how the Path works, or is that because Miresh is so far along it?”
Aralim shrugged. “Does it matter?” he asked. They crossed the room, and Miresh looked up.
In Aralim’s right elbow, his tall wooden pole rested, with the looped head and the blue tinted lantern hanging a few inches above his arm. Held out in his other hand was a smaller staff, not as small as a ten-year-old, but not too much larger either. The arch at the top of it, crafted from another piece of wood, but sturdily planted in the main staff, was almost identical to Aralim’s. The lantern that hung from the arch was made out of brass, and small glass panels windowed the oil canister inside. Each panel was stained orange instead of blue, as was the glow that radiated out.
Miresh’s face broke into a grin. “Is that…? Is that mine?”
“It is now,” Aralim said. Everyone was smiling, as Miresh clambered off the bench of the table and skidded around the end of it. She took hold of the staff with a reverent gaze and stepped back from Aralim. A proper Walker of the Path. With a massive grin, she stepped forward again, bumped him on the shoulder with her lantern, and wrapped her free arm around the small of his back to give him a hug. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her face muffled by his green robe.
Aralim held his breath for a moment, uncertain how to react. He couldn’t recall the last time he had been embraced so, but he was mostly certain it had been before he chose to walk the Path, back in his southern village… He blinked, and put his free hand on Miresh’s back to return the hug, with telltale tears in his eyes.