Aralim 61

The next morning, Aralim walked with Miresh to the Iron Palace.  A dark, cloudy sky, was brightened by a clear horizon, giving everything an eerie glow.  Rain did not come, and they arrived at Rattar’s meditation yard dry and in good spirits.  Aralim sent Miresh ahead; the young girl carried a small wooden rod with her wherever she went, but would spend the morning testing its strength after her efforts to bind it’s grain tighter.

Rattar smiled when Aralim approached him in the grove.  He offered Aralim a hand to clasp and told him, “Aralim, congratulations on your new position.  Apologies, I haven’t had a chance to drop by and say so.”

“Thank you, though it seems to have taken much of the Court off guard,” Aralim replied.

“Ah yes,” Rattar muttered, stoically.  “Some of these people have been working most of their life for the favour that his Ascendance has shown you after mere months.”

Aralim nodded.  “I suppose they’ll grow used to it while I’m away.  Hopefully without deciding I’m a threat.  Out of sight, out of mind.”

“I understand how concerning that might be.  While your home in Rema is likely one of the safest places to be, you might be a more visible target when leaving the city.  If you’d like, I’ll ask the Emperor about it on your behalf.”  Rattar looked around the grassy clearing in amidst his well-groomed trees.

“With Ovoe gone I’m less concerned,” Aralim assured him.  “No need to concern the Emperor.  He seems to have a lot to consider already.  I am interested in your interpretation on things, however.”

Rattar shrugged, his fingers splayed.  “I don’t follow.  My interpretation of what?  Likely threats?”

Aralim tried to phrase his question once more, leaning on his lantern staff.  “Is there anything I can do to ease the transition?  You know these people better than I.  To what degree are they offended, or simply caught off guard by the events?”

“Ironically, it is this very day that the Court is barely recognizable to me,” the old man rubbed his wrinkled scalp with one hand while weighing his words with pursed lips.  “Master Athanu and Aglo, I’ve served with these two for years… but all the rest are new acquaintances of mine.”

“Soon more than half the court will be new placements.  I hope they prove better acquaintances than Ovoe.”

Rattar nodded to Aralim and gave him a small smile.  “I hope this too.  I think we’re on the right track—having a group of new Ministers is likely to make them more cautious and easier to influence.  And the Emperor seems less interested in choosing the expert skills that used to draw his eye when the last generation was elected to the First Court.  Now he is looking for those he can rely upon, not those who are the best—to a certain extent, of course.”

“I like to think that will serve him better.  But I’m clearly jaded.”

“Jade is actually my favourite gemstone,” Rattar piped up, smiling.  Aralim smirked, but made mental note that a conversation with Rattar after Aralim’s first journey abroad would be useful to determine how this new Court panned out.

That evening, after a shadowy walk home under the overcast heavens, Aralim sat with Miresh and Hayan for dinner.  Ko’nagar served them soft cakes of cornbread and a delicious herbal tea.  As they finished an appetizing chowder, Aralim cleared his throat.  “So, I might as well make the official announcement.  I will be leaving for Tal’lashar as the Emperor’s Ambassador.”

“Congratulations,” Hayan said, Miresh nodded and gave him a bittersweet smile.

Aralim maintained a hesitative expression.  There was more, of course.  He waited for them to ask what, and then he gave them the news: “In my absence, Hayan will be filling my position as a Selected.”  He smiled awkwardly, trying to reassure Hayan that this was a good thing.

Hayan blinked.  “Oh,” he said, quietly.  “That’s sudden.”

“It is,” Aralim admitted.  “But you’re the only person I’d trust to take my place… You should still be able to pursue acting in your off hours.”

His friend raised his hand as to stop Aralim, but didn’t interrupt the Walker’s words.  “I think this is a good thing,” he decided.  “It’s one way I can help you out, and I’d be honoured to.  I just hope I have the skills for it.  I’ve never even given politics that much attention.”

“I have faith in you, and the Path,” Aralim said, smiling.

Miresh was smiling.  “When do I get to be one of the Selected?” she demanded, tapping the table.  Her lantern staff leaned against the wall behind her, unlit.  Her spells had worked successfully she had told Aralim, and she could effectively prevent wood from breaking under normal circumstances that would splinter it.

“That’s a good question for the Emperor.  I’m not sure if there’s an age requirement,” Aralim explained.

Hayan spoke up again.  “When will I begin?”

“Whenever I leave,” Aralim suspected.  “Or so I’d imagine.  A date has not been decided yet.”

“That makes sense,” Hayan said.  He rested his chin in his cupped hands for a moment, his food untouched as he considered the import of these matters.  Then he looked at Aralim again.  “I’d like to carry a lantern staff.  I know it’s not as much a symbol to others as it is a guiding reminder to one’s self, but I think there should remain a light as such in the Court.”

Aralim grinned in surprise, but quickly recovered his composure.  “Y-yes, of course.  I’ll start on it right away.”

Miresh leaned up to the table and bobbed back and forth.  “A new lantern!  I can’t wait!  It’ll really help you out, Hayan.”  Her antics got an even larger smile from him, and he hid it behind a sip from his cup.

“Thank you both,” Hayan said.  “I’ve come a long way with you.  Aralim, you’ll be missed.”

“…I’m coming back…” Aralim murmured.

“Yes, but that will be however many months.  You might miss my next stage performance,” Hayan said.  “I mean… I’ll miss having you there.  Er, I didn’t want to point out what you’d be missing…”

Aralim chuckled and spread his hands.  “It’s quite alright, Hayan.  I’ll miss you too.  But I’ll be walking again.  I feel as if it’s been forever since we all arrived here.”

The others nodded, and for a moment, they were quiet.  During that moment, Ko’nagar approached the table from the front corridor and bowed.  “Apologies for the interruption, but you have a caller.”  He nodded his head to Aralim.

With a blink, Aralim pushed his chair back, snatched up his lantern staff, and said, “I’ll go meet them.”  He followed Ko into the front foyer, where a servant opened the door for them.  Dullah stood on the front step, wearing a green and yellow tunic and a frilly black skirt.  She blinked, and scratched her hair, a little flustered, but then stepped inside.

“Dullah,” Aralim said, surprised.  “Have you eaten?  We were just sitting down.”

“Maybe in a minute,” she replied, her breath uneven.  “I’ve got to say this before I back down again.  I want to go with you.”

He regarded her stunned and she nervously looked around, then back at him.  “To Tal’lashar?” he asked.  “Why?  What about your seat in government?  There was enough of an uproar filling mine.”

She nodded.  “I don’t know why.  I can’t stop thinking about it, about your confidence, and how quickly you’ve changed Rema.” She held up one hand, pausing, and then continued a little calmer.  “I know, it’s way out of character—believe me, this is far from my comfort zone—but I just feel that this is something I have to do.  Or else I will always wonder, and maybe even regret.  Does this make sense, at all?”

“It sounds all too natural to a Walker of the Path.  I’ll mention it to the Emperor next time we meet, though I imagine there’s no way to stop you from simply following us.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d accept,” she said.  She exhaled loudly and started to calm down.  “And I don’t care what the courts say.  We make no promises of permanency when given those seats.”

“Well then come eat,” he replied.  “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to talk moving forward.”

“Thank you.  I’m starving.” Dullah replied.  She smoothed her tunic and patted Aralim on the arm as they walked into the hallway.  She blinked as she saw the others.  Miresh grinned ear-to-ear and waved.

“Oh,” Aralim said.  “Have you met Hayan and Miresh?”

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