The morning was rainy again, but only a light drizzle dampened Aralim’s dark grey robe as he followed Miresh through the bustling city streets toward the Iron Palace. As he rounded a corner and a barrel overflowing with assorted coloured citrus, he spotted the guards of the outer Palace wall, overlooking the streets in small towers surrounded by winding stairs. As they approached the front entrance of the Palace, the arching stone thoroughfare, Aralim notices something new. The usual guards, with grotesque or ornate iron armaments, flanked the line of Aura that permitted entryway to the Palace grounds, like usual.
One man stood behind them all. His iron plate armour resembled the warriors around him, with an eagle pauldron on each shoulder and patterned chainmail over his leather jerkin. His breastplate was etched with a design, which looked like a horizontal sword across the man’s chest with flames rising from it. His armour, unlike those surrounding him was painted with the same shade of orange that the Aura wore on their robes. He watched the common folk coming and going through the gate without moving his head one bit. His face was hidden behind a smooth orange visor. The new sentry loomed a head’s height over those around him.
Aralim suspected the new warrior stood vigil to affirm the security of the Palace after the costly attack of the first Moon.
Miresh looked at Aralim as they walked across the crowded courtyard. They passed a woman in a transparent blouse, asking men who passed for their coin. The young magician didn’t even blink, Aralim thought. The crowds that came to see the Three Courts of Rema were full of all sorts of people, but Miresh wasn’t here for them.
“The new guard is named Karmawn, the Emperor’s Blade,” Miresh told him. “Rattar said there hasn’t been an Emperor’s Blade in sixty years.”
“He looks dangerous, that’s certain,” Aralim said.
Instead of cutting sideways toward Rattar’s Hall, her lantern staff led a trail through the busy clutches of citizens to the huge staircase in front of the Iron Palace. Aralim remember that on Court days—the second and fourth of each week—Miresh kept Rattar company inside the Iron Palace proper.
They strode past the line of those waiting for the Second Court, and then past the Second Court itself, where a tall merchant was discussing policy with the lords and ladies of that Court. A member of the Aura was waiting amidst the iron columns. Miresh said hello to her, and then followed the short woman through the shadows. Aralim didn’t see anyone else in the Palace this early in the morning, until they reached a small desk, set surreally amidst the looming architecture.
Rattar looked up from the desk, where he had been writing in a journal. “Good morning, Miresh,” he said. “And Aralim. It’s been a few days since last I saw you.” Throughout most days, Aralim stayed home now, but he still accompanied Miresh every week or so to see what she was working on and learn what he could from Rattar and those other powerful men and women.
“How have you been?” Aralim asked.
Rattar shrugged. “I’m well. Tired, I’ll confess,” he said. He continued writing, but bobbed his head and said, “Miresh, I’ve an idea for your training. Do you have any coins?”
She shook her head, as she sat across the desk from him. “I never need any,” she said.
The old man grinned. “Here,” he said, and set a handful of them above his journal. They were iron, of course. “Try to get two to stick together,” he told her.
“Rattar,” Aralim said, leaning on his blue-lit staff.
“Aralim,” the Grand Mage replied.
“Yakalaka came to me yesterday,” Aralim said. “Asked me for a favour.”
Rattar smiled and set down his quill pen above the page of the journal he was writing in. The page was half filled with his words. He leaned back in the small wooden chair and scratched his smooth scalp. “What favour did she ask?”
“She asked me to steal a glass-like knife from your quarters. In exchange, she offered the findings of the invader’s autopsy,” Aralim explained. He smiled when Rattar chuckled dryly.
“Yakalaka… this isn’t the first time she’s attempted to exploit my resources against my knowledge,” Rattar said. “It isn’t the first time she’s been warned, either. All of us have our plots and plans and secrets, but Yakalaka is bad at this. We’ll need to do something about her.”
Aralim nodded. “I think we should learn what she’s planning. She didn’t say much of it.”
Rattar shrugged. “I don’t think it matters. I’ll ask his Ascendance if we can remove her.” He picked up the pen again, and sighed as he attempted to recollect his thoughts.
“What if we gave her a knife that resembled what she sought? Perhaps one made of real glass?” Aralim asked.
“She could still kill somebody with that,” Miresh piped. She was rubbing Rattar’s coins together with little success on her task. Her primary goal was to repair a damaged blade, but was troubled by today’s lesson.
Rattar nodded as he weighed the idea. “It would be easy enough to make a similar blade,” he said, quietly. He didn’t explain why that would be easy—Yakalaka had described a dangerous sounding weapon. “I could make one that heals the victim after, instead of just vanishing like the knife Yakalaka wants.”
“It vanishes?” Aralim asked.
“The blade she seeks dissolves as soon as it encounters blood. She can kill and not leave a murder weapon,” Rattar explained. “But if I instead kept her intended victim alive, we could learn much more about her plans.”
“Really? You can do that?”
Rattar nodded. “We’ll still make it look like a theft. Yakalaka has eyes everywhere, like any of us. I’ll tell Miresh when it’s done, and you must come that night to get it from my quarters.”
Aralim blinked. “Very well,” he said. “How long will it take? What if Yakalaka comes back to visit?”
“I’m the Grand Mage of Numa’nakres,” Rattar scoffed. “Tell her you’re still planning your burglary!”
Aralim nodded. “That’s sensible,” he said. He tapped his fingers against the worn handle of his lantern staff. “How will we know who she tries to kill?”
“We’ll know,” Rattar said with a sly smile.
Miresh lifted the coins she held with a grin. “It’s starting to work,” she said. “It’s not even heat. Just… trying to make them one thing. It’s not about understanding how to change the properties of metal. It’s about understanding how to change the properties of objects in general.”
“Correct,” Rattar said. “To get really skilled with weapon-craft or metal working, you’ll need o learn those things. But to understand a damaged blade and a smooth blade are sufficient to make one like the other. Comparative magic, if you will. It’s one of the easiest methods for modifying an item, but only works for simple tasks.”
“I’ll leave you two at it then,” Aralim interjected.
Rattar blinked. “Thank you for coming to me about Yakalaka’s offer. I’ll record the information she offered you, about the palace attacker, on a page for you. Give me a few days to confirm some of it with the specialists.”
Aralim bowed. “I didn’t make the decision for that end,” he said.
“I’m well aware,” Rattar said, with a smile. “But you’ve again proven your friendship.”
The Aura led Aralim out of the Iron Palace. The now-cloudy sky blocked most of the sunlight, casting a strong yellow glow into the atmosphere over the sprawling capital. The Emperor’s Blade stood stoically amidst the chaotic crowd, as silent as the Aura.