Miresh and Aralim met in the foyer and laced up their own sandals as they always did. Ko’nagar said it was easily something that the servants could handle, but Aralim insisted they not handle it for that very reason. Narr stood there, behind them, in his big leather boots and long black cape. Did the servants dress him? The silent man did not offer Aralim any answers.
When they were ready, they set off together. Two lantern staffs waving through the crowd of passersby marked their way, for Narr to follow. A few of the household guards went ahead of them as well, but left Aralim and Miresh enough room to speak privately. As privately as was possible in a city the size of Rema. Sometimes, Aralim forgot how big the city was, but on a clear day such as today, he could see the estates up on the slopes and was reminded of just how large the capital was.
“How’d you sleep?” Aralim asked.
Miresh smiled. “Deeply,” she said.
“You’re a little less stressed, I hope?” Aralim smiled, weakly.
“Yes, much so,” his little friend replied, with a smile. She looked up at him. “But I just didn’t know this about… about the world. It seems strange.”
“It is strange, but nature is strange. Consider the Slither tribes we have heard about,” Aralim replied.
Miresh nodded. “I suppose I’ve become so caught up in my training that I forget how diverse and unpredictable the world is,” she said, quietly. They paused to let an old man cross the street in front of them, leaning on a cane. Aralim received a wave, and Miresh a quirked smile.
“At least your distraction has been helping you along the Path. I’m beginning to realize that beyond the Emperor’s friendship, I have very little power here.”
His words made Miresh ponder. They carried forward quietly for a few moments as she contemplated what he was saying. Then she suggested, “Maybe searching for the dagger will give you a new perspective or new options.”
“Do you think that adventure will be happening anytime soon?” Aralim questioned. “Training takes time…”
Miresh sighed. “I don’t know. Everyone keeps telling me to be patient, so I don’t know what to say…”
Aralim blinked. “Well, its important to listen to others. But you’re the only one that has shown any progress along the path in this city. So maybe you know best.”
They rounded a corner near the bakery along Corid Avenue and Aralim inhaled the smell of fresh bread deeply. “You don’t consider your position at Court to be progress?” she asked, looking up at him. “Since we arrived here, we’ve lived in a house for powerful people, and grown closer to being as powerful as people like that.”
“It’s true,” Aralim confessed. “Perhaps I’m just having trouble seeing a way forward from here. The Courts seem to be about waiting, which is difficult for a Walker.” He glanced ahead, at the looming roof of the Iron Palace, and stepped determinedly forward.
“I know exactly what you mean. Remember when I asked you if I would ever have another vision? And I cried? I don’t like waiting either.”
They passed a particularly colourful member of the citizenry, a man wearing a purple and silver cloak over a shiny black robe. He was speaking with two elderly women near a storefront, as Aralim passed them. He smirked. “We’re truly nothing like the people of this city. Maybe that’s to our benefit. We are the youngest apprentice of the Grand Magician and the first commoner to join the Selected, after all.”
“Seems to be,” Miresh said, “But I thought that’s the Path, not our difference from these people.”
Aralim smiled, and they continued to walk in silence. When they neared the gates into the Iron Palace, Miresh asked, “Are you going to leave?”
“I don’t think so,” he replied. “I just need something more productive to do with my time.”
She nodded and kept walking, but as Aralim thought about what she had asked, he slowed his pace and came to a standstill. “Besides,” he said, smiling. “Didn’t we agree we were two halves of the same magician?”
“We did,” Miresh piped, grinning. “And I was going to say that if you leave, I’m going with you. You need to let me know these things, Aralim.”
Aralim smiled and patted her shoulder as they continued onward. “We’ll go after that dagger soon enough, I’m sure.”
Miresh accompanied him to the Third Court amphitheatre before continuing up the steps to find Rattar inside the Palace. Aralim descended the theatre stairs and looked across the gathered Selected. Some were speaking with their servants, while others were already seated. Aralim greeted Lyo with a wave of his hand, and crossed elbows with Master Korama, the magician who sat in the front row. He didn’t know all of their names yet—he had not had reason to speak with many of them. This morning he got a wave from a woman he passed on the steps, wearing a transparent black gown and an assortment of colourful bird feathers. He politely nodded in reply.
When he sat down in his assigned spot, Dullah smiled to him. She scratched the shoulder of a black and green blouse she wore and leaned in Aralim’s direction. “How are you today?”
“I am well,” Aralim said, propping his lantern staff next to his stone seat. “And yourself?”
“Impatient,” she said, laughing. Servants were giving the stage a last sweep as they readied for the day’s audiences. “There’s a banquet at the home of Councillor Moy. Many of the Selected are attending. Would you care to attend?”
Aralim nodded. “I was just thinking I needed something to do with my time.”
“Good,” Dullah replied, busily. “It’s in a week and a half. We can leave from here, together. Or myself or a servant could meet you at your front door.” She gave him a quick smile.
“From here will be fine. Though I suppose I should dress a bit nicer for work that day,” Aralim joked. He was wearing a plain cloak; one he had worn many times over the last year. Compared to many of the Selected, his garb was similar to a commoner.
Dullah laughed loudly. “I will likely change my outfit here, in one of the guest quarters.”
Aralim hid a smug sigh. Of course, even the Selected wore their ordinary clothes to their day job. He would likely need to spend some of the coin that the Emperor’s staff kept offering the estate in West Corid. At last, Lyo clapped his hands and waved forward the first citizen to speak before the Court. Aralim smiled to Dullah, and leaned back on the stone bench.