Aralim and a few others were discussing a complaint from a citizen who’s newly constructed home had been declared only half on his property and half on a neighbour’s, when the summons came. The Aura politely waited until the particular conversation in the Third Court died down. When a new citizen stepped onto the dais before the Selected, Aralim shuffled out of his seat and toward the aisle. He glanced at Dullah, but she just rolled her eyes.
Up the steps and past the Second Court, the Aura led Aralim. In the contrast of sunny daylight and sudden shadows, a woman he did not know waited for him. She had dark skin and short, straight brown hair around her ears. “Minister Muria.” She bowed stiffly introduction and he awkwardly returned suit. She was dressed more formally than he, with a stiff dark-blue uniform ending in a straight-hemmed skirt. “So you’re Aralim the Walker,” she said. “Don’t look like much, but you’ve changed his mind after a hundred years…”
“I can really only look like me,” he replied. He shuffled along after the Aura, who had not stopped, while she kept to his pace.
Muria smiled dryly to his remark. “What do you hope to achieve abroad, as the Ambassador?” she asked.
Aralim blinked. Was she going to be this irritated by his role, already? Her driving question reminded him of recently defeated schemers, remotely. “Progress along the Path,” he replied, “For myself, for Rema, and for the Emperor, I suppose.”
“Has he said if I’m to answer to you, or vice versa?” Muria asked.
“No.” Aralim passed another iron column. They would be getting to their destination soon, he was certain. “But you have much more legitimate experience.”
“I really don’t,” she said, “But thank you for the politeness.”
“Then I suppose we could always work together,” he said, trailing off as they approached a wide ring of cushions.
This was not a meeting between himself, Muria, and the Emperor, Aralim quickly realized. While the Eternal Emperor did sit in this circle, so did several others. Grandfather Athanu waved to Aralim, while Rattar nodded in a more reserved fashion. Aglo the Industrialist, with all his girth, rested unmoving on a large red cushion, raising only his eyebrow when he saw the Walker. A man with metal shoulder plates attached to his lamellar uniform watched Aralim with a friendly look on his face. Muria went ahead and sat in one of the two empty seats, while Aralim hesitantly did the same.
“We’re all here,” the Emperor declared, spreading his hands. A loose, open-fronted beige tunic wrinkled as he folded them once more. “Please welcome Aralim to this special session of our Court.”
Nods and polite comments went around the circle, though the military man leaned over. “I’m Commander Vanra,” he said, offering his hand. Vanra did not share General Ro’s soldier physique, though he was acclaimed to be an excellent military man.
Aralim looked around the First Court and said, “Thank you.”
Tag’na nodded and began to address his advisors. “My first announcement is that the search for General Ro will be lessened. A task force will be given the authority to continue the investigation. Effective immediately, Commander Vanra will assume the title of General,” he declared. Vanra didn’t react with surprise, though all the others offered him a nod or word of respect. The congratulations were meagre, due to the circumstances of his rank increase.
“The Emperor speaks highly of you,” Aralim added, joining their voices of acceptance.
His Ascendance went on. “Secondly, I’ll be appointing a new Keeper of Information by the end of the Moon. I would like everyone present to submit a recommendation of their favoured two or three members from the Second Court.” Aralim noticed Grandfather Athanu looking at him, and felt Muria’s eyes, in his peripherals, examining him. They seem uncomfortable, Aralim realized; he was being given responsibilities as their peers, though they did not see him that way. But Tag’na quickly continued, “This is not a vote. It will be a decision on my part.”
Aralim didn’t speak up. He nodded, but he didn’t want to make the ministers less comfortable by saying something displeasing to them. Rattar was looking at him, but gave him a quirk of the mouth, a reassuring but half-concealed smile. Tag’na did not, for he was the Emperor right now, not Aralim’s friend.
“Our main topic today, as I’m sure you all have guessed,” his Ascendance muttered, “Is an open discussion of priorities and general thoughts concerning the selection and tasking of the Ambassador of Rema.” After a moment of silence, he spoke again. “Please, I want to hear whatever you have to say. I know this Court’s dynamics have shifts a lot lately, but you are all here to speak your mind to me, first and foremost.”
“There hasn’t been an ambassador in the employ of this government for decades,” Aglo rambled. Aralim hadn’t heard this definitively yet, though he had guessed. “Why now?”
Tag’na shrugged. “Because I’ve decided so.”
Muria took a deep breath. “As you all know,” she said, “Trade comes into Numa’nakres. Even rarities are easily acquired without going out and seeking them. As your Ascendance explained to me when I was chosen for this position, I oversee the relations with visiting foreigners, merchants, and delegates. I know nothing about what wealth we might acquire abroad.”
“General political information might be of interest, such as details of foreign leaders and such,” Athanu said. “These things were Ovoe’s responsibility, but he was a miser of information not an ally, as we all know Aralim to be.”
Vanra spoke quickly, right on the tail of that thought. “Tactically, we know very little about our neighbours or about any great powers beyond. We know not how our military compares,” he said.
“So is the Ambassadorship to be a role of reconnaissance, or alliance?” Aralim asked.
Athanu shrugged when Aralim glanced at him, while a few others looked at one another or at the Emperor.
“We have no need of military research,” Tag’na replied. “If and when we do, Vanra would be responsible, not Aralim. Wine.” The Aura moved gently out of the shadows, and wine was poured for the Emperor. A few others partook, while they procured a larger cup for Aglo, who seemed to expect such.
Rattar leaned forward in his seat, scratching his hairless chin. “Perhaps it is cultural understanding and simply proper public representation that your Ascendance is interested in?”
Tag’na tilted his head and extended a hand that they should continue along these lines.
“If cultural understanding is our goal here, Rainrest might make an ideal destination,” Aglo said, smiling. “I’ve heard many a tale of the illustrious courts, the musicians and poets of the Joyous King.”
“They say the various Kingdoms of the Great Isle are full of customs unlike the other lands,” Muria offered. “Another potential destination.”
Aralim tapped his lantern staff. He had not taken a cup from the Aura. “Which kingdom is closest to Rema in renown? I was directed here because the Emperor’s reputation is known farther than the Orrish is from here.”
“Walker, pardon me,” Muria said, looking at him sideways, “But there are no other kingdoms. Each province of the Great Isle revolves around a city with its vassal villages. And each city of Radregar is its own country.”
Grandfather Athanu visibly rolled his eyes, while it was Aglo the Industrialist who spoke, peering into his wine cup and swirling its contents. “But there are other places of great renown,” he said. He looked around, meeting Aralim’s eyes and others’ too. “The City of Ith is the largest city in the Known World. Tal’lashar is perhaps the oldest, while the stones of Saanazar still bear the damage of the Orrish’s very fall.”
“Perhaps these places have the most to offer Rema,” Aralim said, “But as Muria pointed out, I don’t truly understand the politics of these lands.”
“Tell me more about these places,” Tag’na said, looking at his councillors, “And I will decide where I would like Aralim to go.”
Aralim had been waiting a while for this. Though he suspected many of the councillors might have raised a comment, incredulously, about the clear favoritism between the Emperor and the lowly Selected, no one spoke such in the aftermath of Ovoe’s death. But to Aralim, he just wanted to know where to walk next.
“Tal’lashar is known for a few great sights. Their landmarks may rival our own, as they are famous for the Forty-Seven Towers. However, many sightseers are as impressed with the Docks of Vil’loon, which have not touched the receding waters of the Shrinking Sea in five hundred years, they say. Hardly a man-made wonder.”
Aralim bowed his head. “You’ll have to excuse me, but what is the nature of the Forty-Seven Towers? I’ve been on this continent under a year.”
Muria leaned back, but smiled friendlily. “The skyline of Tal’lashar is more distinct than most. Instead of building wide-spread mansions, the desert-dwellers have chosen to build upward. The wealthier a house, the greater their tower. Any tower that surpasses a certain height is added to that collective. It may one day be the fifty towers.”
“And the other locations you have suggested?” Tag’na asked.
“Saanazar is the oldest city on the Grey Sea, though certainly not in the Known World,” Aglo explained. “I remember sailing there as a child, and seeing a ruin known as the Blasted Wall. It is said that Saanazar was burnt by the flames, but not reduced.”
Rattar nodded somberly. “Now the Atmos Septi rules it, a religion that believes in the Sky God. To them, the Orrish was punishment for man’s corruption,” he explained. “They are full fervour and fanaticism, but their beliefs hold sway in many surrounding lands.”
“And the great isle?” Aralim asked.
General Vanra spread his hands. “Each city is ruled by a baron, who has a clear territory with historic context. Regularly, he will war against other barons for control of their territories. They wear big dresses of metal into battle, and wield swords of a different design.”
“In High Raena,” Grandfather Athanu said, his voice wavering, “The Joyous King hosts a great game. Ribbons of Revelry are awarded to those who complete great accomplishments of culture. They say as much sadness lurks in Raena as joy, but abroad, they are known for their positives.”
Tag’na nodded, but leaned forward when no one else spoke. “Any other suggestions?” the Emperor asked. “Is there anywhere you have heard of and would like to visit, Aralim?”
Aralim considered everywhere he had been, but had nothing to contribute. “I don’t have any recommendations myself, but if Rattar has any leads based on Miresh’s visions, it might be worth your consideration.”
“The Crimson Highway is our greatest clue so far,” Rattar explained. Aglo snorted. “And it joins many of the locations we have discussed, save High Raena by the length of a river and the Great Isle by the width of the sea.”
The Emperor took a sip of his wine and looked at Aralim contemplatively for a moment. “I’ve heard of wonders man made and natural in Tal’lashar, and it has stood the test of time far longer than even I. That should be your first destination.” The others nodded in agreement, but the Emperor continued. “Prioritize attention to the things their people prioritize. As I’ve said before, members of your group may specialize in other things. Aralim, you specialize in seeing things your way, and this is where I hope to glean an opinion worth trusting.”
“Of course,” Aralim said. “Have you decided if I shall be accompanied by a scribe?”
Tag’na nodded. “I think so. His chronicles of your adventures will be given to the public, who doubtless will wonder why I’ve made an ambassador out of a foreigner.” He winked at Aralim.
“And a few trusted guards, I trust?” Vanra asked.
Aralim shrugged. “I’ve traveled farther without guards, but I suppose its the official thing to do.”
“It’s your decision,” Tag’na declared. “A man on the road is not always targeted, but upon leaving a city as my Ambassador, you will be known.”
“Very well. A few trusted guards.” Aralim looked into the fire of his lantern staff, wondering where it would lead him next. “It’s for the best.”
Tag’na took a sip of his wine and looked around. “What does the Court think of Aralim’s position as a Selected? Should he maintain both statuses? Or should he be replaced on the Third Court?”
“I think it only makes sense that our Ambassador be a member of the government,” Athanu said. Rattar countered it by pointing out that the Third Court should always have its twenty seats filled.
Aralim leaned forward. “Hayan would fill my position if we asked. He wouldn’t like it, but the man is as moral as they come. He’d likely do a better job than me.”
At once, everyone looked at the Emperor. The air filled with an uncomfortable silence. The powerful man pursed his lips then shrugged. “Very well. Hayan can have your seat.” His words were followed by the same laden silence.
Aglo could not bite his tongue any longer. He lowered his massive wine glass beside him and said, “The Selected are supposed to be the wealthiest citizens of Rema. Aralim was Selected because you knew him, but who is Hayan?”
Tag’na shrugged. “Hayan is the newest Selected. And Aralim will remain an honorary Selected, so, as Athanu says, our ambassador represents our government.”
Aglo ran his tongue along his molars and then lifted his wine glass again, while even Grandfather Athanu blinked and looked down. The uncomfortable quiet continued until the Emperor spoke again. “There’s a few logistical details to work out before you leave, but I think this concludes everything we need to discuss for now.”
Muria spoke up, unready to move on. “I would like permission to question Aralim in detail upon his return from such ventures, or be present when you debrief him, your Ascendance. His insights, or actions, abroad could have a large impact on my own responsibilities.”
“I assumed we would remain in close contact upon my arrival anyways,” Aralim offered, before Tag’na replied.
But the Emperor did reply. He looked at Muria and said, “Aralim decides what information from his ventures is pertinent to your needs.” She stiffened at the unexpected endorsement of the Walker, and Tag’na softened the blow. “But it sounds like he will cooperate.”
Aralim considered the risks of the First Court turning on him. Tag’na’s friendship undermined their long careers, even for those who enjoyed his company and listened to his spiritual remarks. After this court session, speaking privately to the Emperor right away would undermine his position with them further. When Tag’na soon declared their session dismissed, he left at the same time as the others.
He expected an awkward dinner that evening, until he heard from Ko that Hayan had not been home and was going to stay out late with Arith, his lady-friend from the troupe. Although he hoped for the best when he gave Hayan the news the next day, he spent his final waking moments staring at the ceiling above his bed and imagining desert sands under the blue light of his lantern staff.