Braziers full of fire and a stone wagon with a towering bonfire illuminated the early morning festivals in the courtyard of the Iron Palace. Though the sun had started to rise, the mountains still blocked it and the Ceremony of Flames lit itself with flickering firelight. Aralim stood between Dullah and Miresh, watching as people pressed shoulder-to-shoulder into the courtyard. He had never seen the Iron Palace packed quite so tightly.
At the front of the crowd was a gathering of citizens in plain tunics and clothes of common variety. Knowing that the Ceremony of Flames was how the Aura grew, Aralim paid close attention to them. He could’ve asked Dullah for more details, but he preferred to wait and see. They behaved like normal people, not like members of the Aura. There were men and women of various ages in that group, speaking with one another nervously or excitedly. Some spoke with members of the crowd, the lords and ladies, the citizens of various wealth. People were allowed entry to the courtyard regardless of status, of course, and the Aura made certain that the wealthy did not use their guards to clear space or skew the sense of welcome.
After a few minutes of waiting, the Emperor appeared at the top of the cleared stairs. Although the Iron Palace rose a hundred feet above him, the ageless ruler appeared to command as great a presence. When he first walked into view, a sigh went through the audience, and a few shouts of praise were heard. By the time his guards, his Aura, and he reached the head of the staircase, utter silence ruled the crowds. Aralim looked around, then back to the Emperor.
Tag’na took a deep breath. “Welcome to my home, whether you are friend, citizen, or traveller,” he said. “I cannot help but feel as though this year is different than the last few. My actions of a few weeks ago have given you all a lot to think about, and I would be remiss to ignore the atmosphere this has caused. I had to deal with something difficult, and I did so as quickly as I could. As painlessly. Our beloved General Ro is still lost, presumed dead. Next week, a memorial will be held outside the Fortress Marana.”
Applause sounded after he said the word painlessly, but he silenced his audience with a wave of his hand to deliver the last two sombre lines. But his speech did not end there. “I am moved, however, to see the support that has still come before me today. You all demonstrate to me your loyalty and your love even on a normal day, but attendance today has not faltered from expectations. I will continue doing everything I can to protect you all and to give you the best home for which you could possibly ask.”
“We love you!” someone shrieked. A few voices seconded it with less specific words. Some of the worshippers gathered before the stairs had fallen to their knees. Aralim was not used to seeing such religious devotion, though nothing that the Emperor had said had been of a particularly spiritual nature.
“You have gathered here to pledge your life to my cause, or to witness the pledge of those who make it. I will ask my usual questions before I call upon you to step forward.” Tag’na moved down the steps just one pace, and the crowd seemed to sigh forward with it. Dullah smiled to Aralim, as though amused once more by the contrast between the religious devotion they witnessed and their own unique perspective.
Tag’na took a deep breath. From here, Aralim couldn’t see the texture of his skin or the light in his eyes, just the round face and bound black hair. The Emperor called out across the crowd, “Do you agree to serve me the rest of your days? Do you volunteer your eyes, your ears, your sight, and even your health to me? Do you offer your life, should it come to it, to protect my purposes and those I hold dear? Do you yield your pride and your autonomy, to accept the burden of my service? If you answered yes, to all of these, please climb the stairs and be welcomed to my Aura. You have the unending gratitude of myself and the thanks of all those who believe in me.”
The plainly-garbed people moved forward up the stairs. Some of the crowd were moved enough to discard their lives; these devout people joined the other citizens on the stairs. Aralim counted maybe forty or a few more. Tag’na touched each on the shoulder or gave them a bow as they passed him on the second last step, before the new members of the Aura wandered past the guards and into the Iron Palace.
They were not visible after the shadows claimed them, and Aralim realized they would hardly be visible when next they walked in the light. He remembered the Emperor’s comments a few weeks ago, about offerings and servitudes. He also remembered the kapok tree, towering over the jungles on the river Ake’ma. It had grown so strong that it encompassed the space of a dozen lesser trees, and supported the lives of vines, animals, insects. But for a time, even a long time, it could split the wind or change the course of a river.
Dullah went her own way home, that evening, while Aralim and Miresh walked back toward their estate. The sunny streets were packed with party-goers. Taverns overflowed. Citizens drank ale in the streets from big kegs that were rolled out in front of their homes and shops. Aralim led his young friend through clusters of dancing couples, beside ring-fighters and gamblers, past passed out drunks and kissing lovers.
On one silent stretch, Miresh quickened her pace up beside him. Her braid bobbed at her back, and her lantern staff clipped at a slightly faster beat than his. “It’s unsettling how devoted the volunteers were,” she said. “We’re trying to learn from the Emperor to progress on the Path, but I don’t want to end up… lost like that.”
“Hmm.” Aralim looked at her thoughtfully. Her face had started to take on a few more angles since he had first met her, he realized. “I can understand the unsettling feeling, but some people choose not to walk the Path themselves. They are drawn to the Emperor in ways that we are not, because they have so little power of their own.”
The young girl nodded. “I hope you’re right. But I find myself admiring his power so much sometimes…” She paused her stride, and Aralim turned to face her when she continued, “At times you return from your wandering, make sure I’m still on my Path and not on his.”
“Admiration is natural, but think: The Emperor went from prince to Eternal Emperor,” Aralim told her. “You have gone from homeless to apprentice to the royal mage. At this rate, you’ll surpass the Emperor by his next birthday. So long as you don’t get so caught up in what he is that you forget what you could be.” He patted her head, smiling.
She smiled back up at him. “Thank you. I just need a reminder sometimes. Everyone is so much taller, stronger, and older than me.”
“Trust yourself, and when you can’t do that… just… walk,” Aralim said, grinning. She nodded and matched his pace again.