Aralim’s return from the market was similar to most days, but his arrival at the West Corid estate was concluded in a much different way. The streets he walked, with a pack laden with new clothes and a few preferred food items, were alive with the people of Rema. He never grew accustomed to their vibrancy nor to their culture. He passed a man with a straight robe that began like a towel wrapped around his armpits, while his shoulders were tattooed, one with a woman’s face, and the other with a skull. Even the poorest of merchants seemed to wear jewelry, while Aralim wore none. Of course, no one walked with a lantern staff in one hand, especially no one with a pack so laden. The servants of the estate bought most of their food-goods, but Aralim explored the markets himself occasionally.
He climbed the few steps leading up to the huge front door of their manor. Ko’nagar came striding into the foyer as soon as Aralim did, and ordered a few of the servants to unpack his heavy load. “Master, it is good you have returned. I have news for you.”
“Is it about Miresh?” Aralim asked.
Ko shook his head. “Your friend Naeen stepped out not twenty minutes ago, carrying a heavy pack. She didn’t say a word to any of us, just left.”
“Did she leave a note? Did you ask Hayan?” Aralim asked. His friend had been around the house nervously for the last few days, waiting to hear about the performance he had auditioned for.
“Nothing, Master,” Ko said. The chamberlain was balding, but wore his remaining hair in a knot behind his head. He bowed. “I would have stopped her if I thought it wise, but I didn’t think it would be.”
“You did fine,” Aralim said. For a moment he considered going after her, but decided against it. Naeen would have to find her own way, if she didn’t even have the strength to ask Aralim for his guidance. Perhaps she didn’t want his guidance. Perhaps she had just been struggling to say farewell. In either case, she was gone now. “Is Miresh here? Have you spoken with her?”
“She is, sir.” Ko bowed. “I haven’t told her about mistress Naeen yet.”
Aralim nodded. “In the garden?”
“Of course, Master.” The chief servant went to oversee the dinner preparations, while Aralim strode through the house.
From the back door, he could see Miresh and the young man named Naton sitting on one of the big stone benches. They had set some dark blue cushions amidst the red, orange and green flowers, for the hours they were out there. Aralim approached slowly, and waited for Miresh to notice him. Naton was the first guest she had had for her magic training—he was a carpenter from the Torgo borough of Rema who had recently broke his arm. His small beard was lifted in a small smile, as he read a comedic story from a book. Miresh read nothing; she was focused entirely on the sling his arm was held in.
“Aralim,” Naton said, first.
Miresh looked up. “Welcome home,” she said. “How was the market?”
“Busy,” Aralim replied. He smiled and sat down on a nearby bench. It was significantly less comfortable than those big pillows looked. “Miresh, did Naeen talk to you today?”
“No,” Miresh said. “But she was on her balcony earlier this morning. She just waved and went back inside.”
“Oh,” Aralim said. “She left, it seems. With a pack. I think she’s decided to go her own way, like Laney and Ukanna did in Maykren.”
Miresh frowned. “Oh, really?” she whined. “Everyone leaves us, it seems. I’ve heard of Walkers of the Path with fellowships, but not us.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” Aralim said. “Everyone has to go their own way. One way or another, they’re learning about the Path. If we forced them to stay, they would need to fight us in order to make any progress. That certainly wouldn’t be as helpful for us—we’re not learning from our power over people right now. We’re learning from our friends in the Iron Palace.”
“Right,” Miresh said. “But I’ll miss Naeen. She was always around. And she was good at games.”
“Yes, she was,” Aralim said. “She certainly kept to herself though.”
“She did indeed.” Miresh looked back at Naton and said, “Sorry for the delay.”
Naton shrugged. “The Grand Mage is paying me to sit around and read for as long as it takes my arm to heal… compared to sitting at home and not getting paid. Take all the time you want.”
Miresh smiled. She had finished repairing the knife blade Rattar had asked her to a few days earlier, but had trouble explaining to Aralim how it worked. She had tried saying metal was almost too hard to move, so it wasn’t a process of moving metal from one part of the blade to the damaged part. It was like the metal had been there all along, smooth and sharp. She had forced change without recognizing it as such too distinctly. Now she was fixing broken limbs, supposedly, and it was an entirely different procedure.
“We’re not going to go search for Naeen, are we,” Miresh said.
Aralim shook his head. “That’s not a forward decision for us.” He stood up. “I hope this news doesn’t distract you though.”
“It won’t,” Miresh said, as he started to stride away.