After a few days on the riverside, Captain Ruk’nor got their vessel underway once more. Many other rivercrafts had passed them, and some offered assistance, but after the initial removal of damaged wooden sections, the repeated varnishing of their replacements could not be expeditated. By the time they returned to rowing along the wide Toringa, they were soon sailing through a fleet of fishers, foragers, and other passenger vessels. They left the chaotic jungle behind and sailed between a forest of golden reeds and tall grass. The Eye of Maga came into sight soon after.
Aralim had never seen a city so spread out. In some points, it seemed that the city was no more than a block or two deep, and stretched along a length of palisade wall. In some places, it appeared such fortifications divided districts of the city, while many extended into the scattered copses of trees on the edge of the rainforest without any structural defense. As they rushed over the water toward the docks, Aralim spotted the surface of a wide lake along the river, hidden from view in many places by the interior palisade walls. The lake was surrounded by the wall, he realized, and the town built outside of it.
Grendar paid Captain Ruk’nor, who thanked everyone for their patience and wished them well with their future travels, and then they set out into the town. The city was built mostly out of wood, with a mix of proper masonry and simple stone columns. The people dressed in a way that Aralim found more conventional, though he saw some middle-aged and senior individuals with brightly painted hair and tattooed shoulders.
The river entered the densest portion of the city, a cluster of districts that must have housed thousands. Near the lake was built a towering keep with a primarily stone outer wall; banners and shining bonfires adorned the palace with a royal sigil. The sky-blue texture was blocked by a white sun over a set of green lines, a light on the fields. Aralim led his group toward the palace.
A metal cage hung over the tall stone gateway, displaying the bones of a decayed and vulture-dined corpse. The compliment of soldiers under the arch seemed unperturbed by the faded stench. The first of the two men who detached from their comrades rested their hands-on sword hilts as they obstructed the way forward. “What’s your business here, traveller?”
“My name is Aralim. I am a Walker of the Path. My companions and I are passing through on business of the Eternal Emperor. We hoped to meet with your rulers in our time here, before moving on.” Aralim’s royal guards were better equipped in every way than the defenders of the Maga palace.
The second guard clapped his palms together, as though to dash dust form them. “Public audience is held only thrice each month,” he drawled. “You’ll need to return in a week’s time.”
“Official business for the Emperor?” the other guard asked, clarifying. “Do you have proof—orders or some such?”
Grendar removed his iron helmet and stepped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Aralim. “Master Aralim is the Ambassador of Numa’nakres and bears the Eternal Emperor’s seal.”
With a shrug, Aralim dug out the heavy iron slab from his pack and slid it out of its soft leather sheath. The sentries were unable to clear them, but immediately saw fit to summon a superior. The captain guard examined the seal and asked them a few questions about their journey, before ushering them into a comfortable courtyard area to be seated between potted ferns and wide-leafed trees. The floor, cooled by streams of water in the corners of the atrium, was a mosaic of blue stones and resembled a whirlpool.
The Royal Aide was summoned, a short man with dark brown hair and a pleasant expression. “I am Rel, the Royal Aide to King Eilar. I understand you’re an Ambassador from Numa’nakres? Do you seek audience with the King?”
“If he’d have us,” Aralim said, standing up from the bench where he’d sat next to Dullah. “There’s no rush. I thought it appropriate to make an appearance before passing through.”
Rel nodded. “Well, we can provide quarters for you and your companions in the very least. I’ll show you to them, and then speak with the King to see if his highness has time for a visit.”
“That would be marvelous,” Aralim said. “Thank you.”
The quarters they were shown to were part of a suite in the east wing of the palace. Though the area shared a dining and living area, large bed chambers lined the walls of the main room with doors. Aralim didn’t have much to unpack, though several of his guards changed into simpler uniforms—iron armour was heavy, Aralim had learned.
Dullah had changed into a thin silk dress by the time Rel returned. It was one of the three garbs she had packed, for specifically this sort of occasion. Devran couldn’t keep his eyes off her, but to Aralim she just looked relieved to be back in her element.
They sat and chatted leisurely in the living space until the Royal Aide walked through the open archway into the suite. He didn’t bow, as the captain guard had, but spoke to the point. “The King is unavailable at the moment. However, I would be honoured to answer any questions you may have about our city or government.”
Aralim invited the man to sit with the wave of his hand. If he wasn’t going to meet the King of the city, he might as well ask about him. “What would you say is the King’s greatest attribute as a ruler? What part of him assures his acceptance by the people?”
“To be candid,” Rel said, with a sly smile, “I would say that his acceptance by the people is moreover their disapproval of the prior ruler. King Eilar has not been our monarch for long enough to make a notable impact on our people.”
“Why was the prior ruler hated so?”
Rel grimaced. “Queen Zanna chose to show mercy to bandits that had killed many of her subjects and even a foreign guest. Her decision to delay their trial added to public unrest. It grieved me, as an advisor to the royalty, but leaders are required to make the difficult decisions that she could not, may she rest in peace.”
“Interesting. So you simply selected a new ruler? Or is it decided by lineage?”
The Royal Aide folded his hands in his lap. “It’s often decided by lineage, though in this case King Eilar did what had to be done by a more aggressive means. I’d prefer not to speak further of such grim matters.”
“That’s reasonable. I’m sorry to trouble you,” Aralim said, earnestly. “I tend to ask a few too many questions.” Devran and Dullah each smiled.
“It’s no trouble, but rather state secrets and an arduous past as I’ve mentioned. I can tell you more of our culture, religion, and foreign influence,” Rel offered, bobbing his head.
Aralim had his turn to smile. “I’m always interested in such conversations. Perhaps over dinner or tea? If you have the time of course.”
“An evening meal will be ready shortly,” Rel said. “We could speak of our religion over dinner, though I would suggest we send food to your suite for your men. On account of space, of course.”
Devran piped up. “Ah yes, the mysterious Goddess Maga. Might I join, to hear your thoughts on this, Aralim?” Rel gave a nod when Aralim looked at him inquisitively.
Despite enjoying her respite from scratchy travel clothes, Dullah sighed. “I’ll eat with the guards,” she said.
Rel and the palace kitchens offered a delicious meal for the foreign Ambassador and his companions. In a small dining chamber, they were served pork—which Aralim had not been able to enjoy in a couple years at least—and a variety of salad.
“In our city,” the steward explained, after they finished the first plate. “we believe in the Goddess Maga. She blesses our land with strong harvest and livestock, and offers her gifts of healing and nurture in the form of the Eye—the lake, if you didn’t know—and the Great River Toringa.”
“Do not forget that the Great River Toringa begins in the corner of Numa’nakres, the lands of the Eternal Emperor,” Devran clarified.
Aralim frowned. “Why does the Goddess Maga do this for the people?”
“We are her creations,” Rel explained. “So long as we hold to our faith and care for our fellow citizens, we earn the opportunity to prosper in her care. I am not a greatly devout man; perhaps I should have prefaced that I am simply speaking of the beliefs held by most of my people.”
“It’s an interesting belief, but parents only care for their children until they grow strong enough. Do the people of Maga have no intent to grow up, so to speak?” Aralim asked. His critique drew a smirk and then a smile from Devran.
“Of course we grow up,” Rel defended. “But when adults lay with severed arms or broken bones, what can a normal family relative do for them then? Very little in most cases. Maga has the power—and has demonstrated it—to heal us when we seek it. Even I have been cured of ailments by her power, so I cannot doubt it.”
Devran spoke up again. “The Great Smith forged this land. Whatever powers your lake has were allowed by the God of Numa’nakres, not a savanna sorceress such as your holy books relate.”
“Let’s keep this in the bounds of civility,” Aralim said, smiling at Devran. He took a sip of the green tea they had been given and turned back to Rel. “You say you’ve been healed by Maga? Does she have a physical incarnation?”
Devran put his elbow on the table and leaned his chin into his palm.
“Thank you, Aralim-sho.” With a dab of his lips, Rel lowered a napkin and explained, “In our lands, our gods do not always resemble mere mortals. In the holy book Light of the River Plains, Maga was said to have accomplished many things in the form of a mortal. She led the First People out of the jungles of the Elder Coast. When challenged by the dry season and the sand storms from the north, she journeyed far to strike water from the Black Rock of Yar. This was the creation of the Toringa. When she returned from her westward journey, she found her people set upon by bandits and wild beasts from the forest they’d left behind. She invited them to wash away their wounds in the river. After wading into the waters, she shed her mortal form to bless the lake. She lives in the murky depths to this day, and those who submerge themselves in the Eye, in her sight, are healed of any malady.”
“That is more or less compatible with Path teachings, other than my initial question of why,” Aralim told him. “What does Maga receive in exchange for the healing she continues to provide?”
Rel blinked in confusion. “She’s a Goddess,” he said. “What could she possibly gain from mere men that she doesn’t have or cannot possess already?”
“This is where I offend you both at the same time,” Aralim murmured. “The Path accepts all gods into its beliefs, but it believes the strongest god removed itself from our lives for exactly that reason. The more power you hold, the less reason you have to interact with the world. We have nothing to offer a god, so why should it aid us? The wind will occasionally mill flour, but it doesn’t choose to do that for our benefit.”
“It’s just a discussion. I know only the power I have witnessed but haven’t the time to study every religious text at my disposal. I serve the monarchs of this city, not the gods,” the Aide said bluntly.
Devran, meanwhile, gaped at Aralim with wide eyes. “You don’t believe that the Emperor is ‘the strongest god’?”
“He’s the strongest god that I’ve met. And I trust his capacities infinitely,” Aralim said, despite the things he knew about the Emperor that the public did not. He turned back to Rel. “You’re very knowledgeable despite that, Rel. You said that you were healed by Maga. Is that a public service? Or is it restricted to certain people?”
Devran blinked and leaned back in his chair.
“Anyone may ask for healing in the Eye, but for many generations the reigning monarch deems if the individual has earned this service from the Goddess. The monarch may call on the High Priestess for council. This policy was adopted when the size of the city grew too large to keep the sacred waters both public and pure.”
So their god is controlled by the council of a few individuals, Aralim thought, sipping another tea as the Royal Aide spoke. “Other than religion, what should I know about the area?”
Rel smiled and took a refreshed breath as they changed topics. “Well, unfortunately, the aforementioned bandits remain a danger to the west primarily. We advise all travellers be accompanied by guards, or use the Crimson Highway, with which our city has strong ties. We are also one of the only cities on the continent to the very gate of which the Slithers will venture to trade. After all, to the north is only the Expanse.”
“I met a woman who regularly travelled much further to trade with Slithers,” Aralim said. “Must be convenient to have access to the Expanse.”
“It gets quite dry during the dry season,” Rel said.
Devran didn’t have anything to add. He took a sip of tea, but his glum expression remained. He didn’t look angry with Aralim, but he did look troubled. Their dinner continued, and Aralim learned a lot about the people in Maga. That evening, after a few minutes recollecting with Grendar and Dullah, Aralim fell asleep in a bed that he could swear was more comfortable than even his home in Rema had been.