The Eternal Emperor was standing in an area close to the centre of the Iron Palace. Amidst all the columns there was a structure in the middle, and, like many other spots under the pillar-supported roof, this one had been converted into a living area of sorts. A low dark wooden table, with a perfect varnish and decorative gold vines sprawled throughout a design around the edge, obstructed the way through the space. Around it were cushions to lounge on, but the Emperor was leaning against a column nearby when Aralim arrived. He looked up, his keen eyes examining Aralim as the Aura left the Walker in the royal presence. The book clapped closed. “It’s hard to find new material,” Tag’na murmured and tossed the book down on the table.
“Even I’m bothered by the amount authors steal from one another. I can’t imagine what you notice,” Aralim said.
Tag’na grinned. “I notice a lot of grammatical errors.”
“Of all the things…” Aralim laughed, sitting down across the table from the Emperor on a bright orange cushion. He rested his lantern staff nearby, by setting the lamp itself on the table top. Nervously, he said, “Tag’na, I’m sorry.”
The Emperor raised his eyes to Aralim’s. “It’s been claimed by the past. My oldest adversary,” the powerful man declared. “Nothing to be done about it now.”
Aralim let out a bit of the tension clenched in his gut. He looked down at his hands for a moment, to break Tag’na’s gaze, then looked back up and said, “Ovoe seems willing to kill me or anyone else at the slightest opportunity. Do you truly have a use for him? Because he’s begun to make my skin crawl.”
“There will always be a man like Ovoe,” the Emperor explained. “Before Ovoe, there was Riadon, and before him, Vesanor. My Blade will ensure your safety.”
Aralim sighed. “How is it that you’re not like them? Everyone appears to turn to foulness in trying to gain power enough to usurp you.”
“Do you know the feeling you get,” Tag’na said, smiling mischievously, “when you’ve spoken about just about all the facets of a topic with a friend? When they know your philosophy fully, and there’s nothing more to be said? I feel that way always, even though I haven’t spoken philosophy with you in particular. So, first, some wine and some food, yes?”
“As you like,” Aralim said, surprised.
A metal basin of water was presented and they both rinsed their hands in it. It took only a moment for a platter of various nut cheeses and corn bread. On another serving board were folded slices of meat, and judging from the condensation they had been cooled somehow. Three beverages were served: water, milk, and white wine. The Emperor chose the latter, while Aralim helped himself to *
“I imagine that no matter how this conversation goes, you’ve had it before. It must be tiring in a way I’ll never comprehend,” Aralim said, while the Emperor prepared his first portion.
Tag’na took a bite. “On the contrary,” he said, as he chewed. He swallowed a sip of wine before finishing the thought. “I’ve lost my wife before. But this is the first time I’ve had a pilgrim from two-thousand miles away apologize for the deed, for which he was not responsible. I speak only of my own bias and the monotony of patience.”
“She died because I acted incorrectly. So, you have my sincere apologies. Your bias reminds me of teachings of the Path in a way, but you have dodged my question, skillfully.” Aralim picked a piece of bread and decorated it with a few ingredients.
“Aralim, I was a man like Ovoe. I have been many men. I began with self-entitlement—I was my father’s son, the prince of a great kingdom.” Tag’na took a sip of his wine, before continuing. “But it was not enough for me—ambition, greed, power. I was driven to take more, to rule more. I remember the jungles sailing past as we seized the outer villages. When Primals killed some of my soldiers, I was driven by anger, and set fire to their trees. But it cannot last. Nothing lasts. I’ve known depression that would cripple most men, I’ve known joy higher than any mountain. And I’ve known what happens after that, after you’ve felt the world that deeply.” He trailed off, and filled the lull with a long drink of his wine.
Aralim thought about the Emperor’s melancholic demeanor. “Power and time cool the fires within anyone. The question is, why do you choose to remain in such a public way?”
Tag’na put down his wine cup and rose out of his lounging posture by an inch. “Why do you think I asked you to conspire against me?”
“But why in such an indirect method?” Aralim asked, perplexed. “You could easily slip away if that’s what you want. It’s what the Creator of the world did.”
The Eternal Emperor weighed Aralim’s words, rolling a piece of bread in between his fingers. When the Walker mentioned the Creator, he smirked ever so slightly and ate the morsel. “Nothing is as simple as you think it is. But tell me more about the Creator of the world, as you believe it. Many in this city claim I am a reincarnation of the great smith, Nazraliim.”
A member of Aura removed an empty basket from the low set table top, bending comfortably at the waist. Aralim’s staff seemed to give off an aura of its own—no one came near it. Aralim took a drink, until the servant had returned to the forest of iron columns that bordered their space.
“The Path dictates that all strive towards power,” Aralim began, “but as you achieve it, one becomes less inclined to use it. The Creator of this world is an absent one.” Aralim took another sip. “Faced with infinite time and infinite power, he chose to withdraw to the centre of the earth. People of the Path do not pray, because the Creator simply no longer cares to help us. He faces monotony and patience that outdoes even your own.”
“Intriguing. Why did he stop creating?” Tag’na asked. He crossed his fingers and stretched his taut muscles with a grimace. “If I could forsake my cares, I would travel the near boundless marvels of this world, not retire to some cool crevasse.”
Aralim smiled. “Perhaps he did. Eternity is a concept that maybe not even you understand yet.”
“You think god can run out of ideas?” his Ascendance asked. He ran his fingers down his shaven cheek, squeezing his jawbone. He didn’t smile at his dense question—as he had hinted earlier, he discussed philosophy at length.
Aralim shrugged. “I think god can get bored of new ideas.” He took another drink, and, while the Emperor chuckled in reply, a member of the Aura stepped out of the shadows to fill his cup. The short man had a faintly musky scent to him, but Aralim doubted it was a perfume. Likely, he was still becoming accustomed to new senses in this land so far from his home.
Totally at ease with the Aura’s presence, Tag’na said, “Perhaps. Perhaps the real end of the world is boredom.”
Aralim started to laugh too, just because his Ascendance’s humour had been the first genuine laughter in their conversation. They continued eating together, and discussing Aralim’s spirituality. After the meal was done, Aralim mentioned he’d been attending the Third Court before arriving to meet Tag’na. The Emperor stammered that he’d only sent summons without thought, and Aralim was dismissed to wander the iron columns behind an orange tendril of the Eternal Emperor’s Aura.
The Grand Mage was waiting near the tapestry screens partitioning the Second Court from the Iron Palace proper, and interrupted Aralim’s progress past them. “Welcome back to our side,” Rattar said, with a smile. “Will you walk with me?”
“Of course. It’s good to be back—Ovoe makes my skin crawl,” Aralim said.
Rattar scratched his wrinkled and leathery jowls. “My skin always crawls, but I understand exactly how you feel.”
They walked back into the shadows of the Palace, disturbing some small grey birds. In a flutter of down feathers, they rose into the air and zipped out of the wall-less structure. The sky over Rema gleamed with white, illuminated skies. Rattar looked at Aralim pensively. “How much did his Ascendance share with you?”
“Essentially nothing,” Aralim said. “He left me to my own devices yet again.”
Rattar nodded and frowned. They walked onward a few steps, and Rattar’s bead decorated torso robe rasped along the stone floor. “And what did you think? After this complicated side-venture of scheming against the Eternal Emperor?”
The Walker sighed. “The Emperor is convinced that characters such as Ovoe are unavoidable. I’m convinced they are intolerable.”
“With words like that, you should speak with General Ro,” Rattar said. “But, what do you think about the Emperor’s disdain for his position?”
“I’m more curious about what keeps him here despite his disdain. An eternity is a long time to hold one position.”
Rattar paused, near a particular column. The metal pillar was etched with the likeness of a man with folded arms and a bearded face. Tusks protruded from the man’s hairy head, and his feet were planted firmly on the back of a serpent, plowing the seas. Only some columns were decorated, and not many this lavishly. The magician turned away from it and regarded Aralim ponderously. “Tag’na laments the transience and impermanence of his life, while giving everyone else something consistent and permanent for the entire duration of theirs,” Rattar explained. He continued walking and Aralim was forced to keep up. “His Ascendance knows this, and he respects it. Of course, there are other reasons for his continued stay as our Emperor, but those are secrets that are not mine to share. When he spoke to you two moons ago, and asked you to join his adversaries, I was worried that his paranoia and his pain had overcome him. I am glad it is not so.”
“It takes a lot of strength to outlive everyone and everything. It’s a shame that some people wish to uproot him for that. Although, surpassing him is a dream of grandeur I can’t help but entertain.”
Rattar paused and looked at Aralim with inquisition on his face. With a terse voice, he asked, “Do you wish the Emperor to yield his position or retain it?”
Aralim smiled. “I wish for the Emperor to do what the Emperor wishes. His presence is clearly a boon to the state, if that’s your concern.”
“Good.” The Grand Mage uncrossed his arms and nodded. “Miresh fills me with hope, daily. The thing that his Ascendance needs most is friendship, and unlike him, my days are numbered.”
“And with friends like Ovoe…”
“Yes, his influence has been troubling, but Tag’na assures me there’s nothing to be done. My loyalty is absolute, so I will not act against Ovoe. Perhaps you can tell me one thing though—is it Tag’na’s demise that Ovoe seeks so passionately, or his throne?”
Aralim tilted his head. “I’m not certain that Ovoe would separate the two. There’s no way to unseat the Emperor without killing him, after all.”
They had turned in a wide circle and were heading back toward the Second Court and the stairs down to the Third. Rattar tapped his fist against an unmarked iron pillar as they passed it. “When I was younger I debated at great length with him. His Ascendance, that is. I felt that if he truly wanted to resign his seat here, he should separate religion and state, to create a peaceful way out. As time has gone on, I’ve grown to doubt this. Perhaps Ovoe does need to be eliminated…”
“Giving someone else the political power defeats the purpose of the Emperor’s reign,” Aralim explained. For him, the Emperor’s progress on the Path largely caused his reign. To step away would be to lose his power. He went on, “But the Emperor is right. Destroy the man, and another will appear. Death is a very short term solution. Especially over the course of eternity.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“’Cure him’. Of his intentions.”
Rattar blinked. He smirked when he said, “Then don’t speak to General Ro.” As they continued to walk, the Grand Mage carefully considered Aralim’s argument. “You actually believe it is possible to change a man like Ovoe?”
Aralim paused in front of a checkered screen, ready to descend to the Third Court again. “I live under the patronage of a man who lives forever. Surely nothing is impossible.” He smiled and excused himself from their conversation. He did not want to miss another visitor like Vaenuth crossing the stage before the Selected. For Aralim, despite the philosophy, it was a work day.