The new Moon had begun, and it was time for Aralim to meet Vishol Kim’alu, the man he had spoken with on the road between Yarik and Tal’lashar. Nilless, daughter of Queb Rionar, was his guide, and his escort was familiar—the Aura and Carrak, one of Grendar’s guards. Ever since Aralim had ‘sneaked out’ while the others got settled in at the Tenth Tower, that first day, Grendar had insisted the guards take shifts guarding anyone who left. Nilless was delighted to join them for an afternoon of scholarly discussion.
Aralim had forgotten how large Tal’lashar was while living in the Tenth Tower and sticking to the buildings surrounding it. Apparently, the Palmleaf Rest chillhome was operated by the Queb of the Sixth Tower, and the district of the Sixth Tower was located on the opposing side of the city. Nilless and he had left at noon, and arrived in the middle of the afternoon.
The chillhome was even larger than Aralim was expecting. It was a wide rectangular building from the outside, with a large shaded porch built in the front. The sun was boiling anyone out and about, so the porch was empty as well. Inside, Aralim and his friends were met with the chaotic hubbub of a hundred people, at least. The chillhome went down many stories into the earth, it seemed, as they descended stair after stair. One or two levels were dedicated to certain entertainment—such as music, comedy, and dance—instead of social tables, but these seemed less popular.
After a half-hour of searching, they found no sign of Kim’alu. Aralim asked a man who was working at a bar on the fourth basement layer, but the man didn’t know a single word of Common, it seemed.
Nilless proved doubly useful as a translator. “Ath wah ekah ozusav uvadar Vishol Kim’alu efer?”
“Ider acha dhabar eneshor imahin adur Ejohūn Dathadar,” replied the server, leaning forward on the bar. Aralim understood a few words, such as ‘he’ ‘return’ and ‘Sentry Dathadar’. The Asha language was full of breath and unusual emphasizing. Nilless asked the man a few more questions before thanking him and coming back to Aralim’s side.
“What did you learn?” Aralim asked. “Is Kim’alu alright?”
Nilless nodded. “Apparently, they were unable to find the Sentry of Dathadar,” she said. Her accent even changed a little for Aralim’s Common language. She was truly bilingual, he marvelled. “It seems the Sentry is missing.”
“Is that usual for these sorts of expeditions?” Aralim asked.
“Well, there’s only one Sentry, a legendary warrior who patrols a hundred-mile-swath of land. Kim’alu and his convoy are spreading out to pick up the responsibility until something more is learned,” Nill told him. “I should tell my father. Kim’alu is of the Sixth Tower. Supporting him first would earn our family considerable favour.”
Aralim nodded. “Then let’s walk and talk,” he said. They started up the stairs and returned to the sun-blasted street. The cobblestones were clean of sand, nonetheless—likely another display of wealth by the Queb of the Sixth Tower. As the Aura and Carrack followed Aralim out of the chillhome, the Walker asked his guide, “So, aiding the lower towers poses you benefit? And what of this legendary warrior?”
“Not my benefit,” Nill said with a sly smile. “I would have preferred to meet for a pleasant and cool discussion inside. But my father would be furious if he knew I knew and didn’t bring it to him first.”
They pressed on as the hot wind wove between buildings and pressed Aralim’s robes against his sweaty torso. Nill didn’t say more at first, but when Aralim let his inquisitive expression loiter, she remembered his second question.
She took a breath, to deliver a story. “There was once a battalion of men posted between here and Yarik. Year by year, they dwindled. And then, one day, they returned to the city. Outraged, the Quebs demanded to know why they had weakened the defence, but they told stories of a young man from the desert, a child grown up in our city but not in our great towers. It was Veldur of Azeeo.”
Aralim was still thinking about the strange relationship between Yarik and Tal’lashar. Errant wandering undead to disturb the populace seemed like an extremely passive aggressive tactic.
Nill looked at him, her eyes all lit up. “He had tamed an Asha Dune Hound—it lets him ride it!” She his confusion, she started to explain: “Have you heard of a jackal?”
“I have. I’m more amazed that this one man is left to handle all the sentry duties,” Aralim muttered.
“No one asked him to do that though,” Nill explained. She wore a hood and cloth veil, but Aralim could tell she was smiling. His beard afforded him the same protection and revealed the same expression as she continued. “He told the battalion to come back. He’s been out there on the order of twenty years now.”
“But now he’s missing?”
“Apparently,” she said. “I hope nothing happened to him.”
They passed a group of passersby that were likewise hurrying toward their destination, pressed upon by wind and sun. Aralim was nodding to them though Nill waved. He turned back to her. “As do I. I’d like to meet him”
“I’m sure my father will be sending some men that way. Perhaps they would determine what happened, or you could accompany them?”
Aralim tilted his head. “That sounds like a great idea, though it would cost me a month of my time here. It would be better for me to investigate on my journey home.”
Nill raised one of her eyebrows, though her eyes squinted against the bright light. “Do you have a deadline, here in Tal’lashar?”
“I’m supposed to return in approximately a year,” Aralim told her. “And it took me over five months to arrive here.”
She was quiet for a pause. “And what are you to accomplish here, if I might ask?”
“Learn. I am a Walker of the Path, first and foremost,” he told her, lifting his staff. “I wish to find powerful people and learn from them. What makes them powerful? What stops them from being more powerful? If I do right by my beliefs, I will find a way to do right for Rema.” He nodded his head back to the Aura, and even turned to give the man a glance. The Aura had donned a matching orange hood as well.
“So you’re a religious spy,” Nill pointed out.
Aralim laughed loudly. Amidst his chuckles, he muttered, “Oh, damn the seas, I hope not… I literally chose to come here due to my hatred of spy work.”
She snorted with her own laugh. “What if a spy were particularly powerful? Wouldn’t that warrant your attention?”
“An interesting problem. The Path traditionally doesn’t differentiate between good and evil. So you’re right, I should be interested in a powerful spy,” Aralim admitted. “But I’ve met a powerful spy, and he wasn’t to my liking…”
“I’m sure many powerful people might fulfill similar criteria.”
Aralim smiled. “Are you one of them?”
“Oh, am I annoying you?” Nill asked, earnestly. “I’m sorry.”
“Of course not!” Aralim explained, walking sideways as he spoke to her. They were getting closer to the Tenth Tower now. “I was serious. I know nothing of this land. You’re my most powerful connection so far.”
After a pause, he went on. “Normally I spend time with the poor of a new city. It helps me judge their true values. That doesn’t seem to be an option due to the language barrier…”
Nill was quiet for a few more moments, as she thought about it. “I don’t mind playing the role of translator,” she decided. “Your quest intrigues me.”
“Really? Excellent,” Aralim said. “I’ll try not to be too much of a religious zealot spy.”
They reached the Tenth Tower at last. There were only a few guards on the staggered battlements at the moment, due to the heat. They hurried inside and shook the sand from their clothes immediately in front of the door. “I won’t be long with my father,” Nilless told him. “I was planning to spend the afternoon in the study afterwards, if you’d care to join me.”
“Sounds like a good alternative to my plans this afternoon.” Belatedly, he realized he did not know where Queb Rionar’s study was actually located. He asked Nill about it, but her eyes only lit up again and she asked he stay in the entry room until she returned.
Absently, Aralim examined the artwork in the room—a portrait of a young Queb Rionar. His eyes were drawn like a young man’s eyes, Aralim noted, with no indication of blindness in his youth. On either side was a tapestry, depicting in minimal detail the construction of the Tenth Tower. No numbers or instructions were given, to protect the secrets of the building’s design.
Nilless came back down the stairs and showed Aralim a cellar door behind the ascending staircase. They descended another flight of stairs into a square room that easily twice the width of the Tenth Tower. The large chamber was completely filled with books. Shelves ran in sections, leaving only enough space for passage and the occasional studying table. Servants and scholars roamed the room, though it was only crowded with books. Aralim could only compare it to the larger of the libraries he had seen in Rema. “This is an impressive collection for a single family.”
Nill grinned with pride. She had changed her sandy robes for a green and gold blouse, and bound her soft-brown hair behind her head in a bun. “It is larger than several of the Towers ranked higher than ours,” she told him. “I made certain of it.”
“You built this yourself? Why?” Aralim asked, looking around. He noticed some of the titles were in Common, not Asha.
She lowered her voice, so only he would hear her response. “Father only wishes me to build a new tower, to succeed him as his heir rather than just inheriting what he has built,” she said. “I would rather spend my wealth exploring, learning, and sharing this world, than become a Queb competing for bragging rights with a bunch of stone and timber.”
Aralim nodded. He matched the hush of her voice. “Perhaps power comes from more than stories in a tower.”
“Perhaps. But do not let my father hear you tell of it,” Nill urged him. “He grows livid at the thought of me ‘wasting his legacy’.”
As they continued to meander through the bookshelves, Aralim noticed Dullah sitting at a table with a young robed man. She had found the study already, without telling him? Of course, he had been busy with his exploration of Tal’lashar culture. He turned to Nill: “Would you excuse me? I should speak with my friend.”
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll be down here reading for a few hours at least.”
Aralim smiled and turned back to Dullah. As he approached, she looked up from a map on the table in front of her. The man had been taking notes as she looked at it. “Planning an adventure?” Aralim asked.
“No, I am having a new map made to bring back to Rema with us,” she said, smiling. Dullah looked like her previous self, cleaned from regular bathing, perfumed, and made up with all the style and attraction she could manage. “The Asha have mapped out many miles of land north of here, including many villages on the coast. All of our maps end with Tal’lashar, and I think are a little inaccurate with even its placement. This could be the most valuable item we transport home.”
Aralim nodded and pursed his lips. “I’m glad you’re so forward thinking about our return. I have yet to consider what I should return with.”
“I just wanted to accomplish something while I was here,” she said, smirking.
Aralim gave her a quizzical look.
“You’re fascinated with their culture, while Devran is working away on conversions, and I was just laying around, in the heat,” she said. “This at least gives me something to do.”
“It sounds like the Emperor will be glad he sent you.”
Dullah laughed. “I’m sure he won’t even notice.”
Aralim shook his head, always incredulous of her attitude. “You should talk to Queb Rionor at some point. I get the feeling he would appreciate the company of a heretic.”
“Oh, interesting suggestion,” Dullah said. “I would likely need an appointment, right?”
Aralim shrugged. “It’s likely, but you could talk to his daughter. She’s just over there.” He pointed her out—Rionar’s daughter was now seated in a cushioned reading chair, with a book across her knee.
“Maybe I will then,” she said. She told the robed man to wait a moment, and then went off to speak with Nill. Aralim smirked—the two were truly opposites, but if Dullah could handle Aralim, she would be fine with Nill.
After that, he tried finding some books on the man Rionar had mentioned, King Prathar, but none were in Common. He shrugged and went off to figure out what Devran was doing to get ‘conversions’.