Master Byranim, who was responsible for the Isle’s defence, had been oddly absent the week Therelin had spoken with Tarka. Therelin had been given an explanation by Telan—the thin brown-haired man seemed to be the Master of Ceremony for Dusk, in addition to monitoring new arrivals. According to Telan, Master Byranim had gone to speak with a number of resident mages in a few other locations.
Telan had explained that they needed to be pre-emptive about contact off the Isle during these uncertain times. If the Grey Sea grew too dangerous, magicians would seemingly stop arriving—their Journeying spells would be delayed by their presumed deaths. Byranim needed to ensure that the Isle of Dusk was still a safe and neutral place when such Journeyers did finally reappear. Obviously, the preferred option was to prevent such a state from even coming to be.
Byranim finally returned to the Isle on the 10th of the 3rd Moon, but Therelin didn’t catch wind of his presence until the 12th. When Miss Kloro mentioned it during one of their shared gardening sessions, Therelin rubbed his hands clean on his black trousers and went in search of the tactician. He found him meeting with a few magicians in the combat-training yard—a section of the settlement where Therelin had yet not involved himself.
“Ah yes. Telan mentioned you,” Byranim said after Therelin introduced himself. The master mage had the white skin of an Orrene heritage though his hair was as dark as Therelin’s. “You’re from Keth, right?” Byranim blatantly examined the small copper ring on the right side of his nose, and his tattoos: a pattern of stars on his left arm, the boar face surrounded by a sickle over his heart, and the golden mantis face on his shoulder. It wasn’t a derisive look; Byranim was interested in the details Therelin revealed.
“Indeed, I am,” Therelin said.
“Not many of your people leave, as I understand it,” Byranim explained, folding his hands behind his back. Behind him, men and women followed a master through sparring moves. “Will there be any alliance in Keth’s future?”
“It’s been some time since I’ve lived in Keth,” Therelin told him. “It may be necessary in the face of the coming war, but I can’t give you a real answer. I would not like to see that come to pass. I was hoping to help stop it. As the defence overseer for this Isle, can you tell me where my skills would best be suited to stopping this threat?”
“There’s a lot to do—let me think.” Byranim raised his eyebrows and looked past Therelin thoughtfully. Therelin stepped back politely, as though that would help Byranim’s contemplations. Then the master formed an idea for Therelin. “There’s a number of groups that have reason to join the cause but have not. Would you be willing to join some colleagues in helping build our side stronger?”
Therelin considered the plan. He didn’t know how to fight or kill very well, and had a few moral qualms about it. Likely Byranim had offered this task with Therelin’s Ketho traditions in mind—and it suited Therelin’s preferences just right. “That seems like a great start for me.”
“I think the top of the list is the Crimson Highway,” Byranim said. “Have you heard of them?”
Therelin remembered Vayao’s accounts of the Highway—he had been able to travel without money in exchange for some physical work. His deafness had not made it impossible for him to cross Radregar, and, after Therelin had healed him, he had set out by way of the Crimson Highway again. “Only a little. Tell me more.”
“The Highway itself is the only road connecting East Radregar to the Elder Coast. The Highwaymen are a powerful fighting force—and they certainly are motivated to have the cities of the mainland to survive the war,” Byranim explained. “A few of our mages of seniority have begun assembling a team to head to the continent and speak with Crimson magicians, specifically. There’s already a few connections there, which will help begin negotiations with their leadership. We’re still looking for more ‘hands on deck’ before dispatching the mission though.”
Therelin nodded and rubbed the copper ring on his left hand with that thumb. He knew the Highway spanned an unfathomable distance. Even if all the Highwaymen were as well-behaved as those Vayao had met, it would be a formidable task. “You mentioned there were a few groups—can you tell me about some of the others as well?”
“Nothing well suited for… a newcomer,” the mage said, uncomfortably—which turned out to be code for: “because of your Ketho beliefs.” Byranim briefly summarized the problem. “There’s a rather dangerous group of magicians in Varravar that could greatly affect the tide of war. There’s still a lot of discussion about the best way to approach that situation…. And in Kedar Port, Havard’s Brothers have thrown their lot in with the would-be invaders. There’s no reason a relatively civil cult should betray their allies of city and trade. ‘Boots on the ground’ there will be necessary if we hope to prevent further bloodshed in Kedar.”
“Are you talking about fighting Havard’s Brothers?” Therelin asked, confused. He had heard of conflict between the cult and the Atmos Septi during his visit in Selram.
Byranim shook his head gravely. “No, no. The Brothers are populated with a number of magicians. Once, they were allies. We hope they will return to the fold, so to speak.”
“Ah, I see,” Therelin said. Neither of those options seemed more reasonable for him than the Crimson Highway. “When would the team leave to contact the Crimson Highway?”
The mage and strategist lit up again. “Roughly a month from now,” he informed. “Take a few days to decide, if you want.”
Or until the summit, Therelin thought. Tarka had told him that mages would come from far and wide to gather for the Isle’s tri-annual public meeting. “In the meantime, am I permitted to learn from these combat magicians?”
At that, Byranim spread his hands in surprise. “First I’ve heard that from a Ketho mage,” he exclaimed. He grinned, not meaning to offend. “By all means! Speak to Master Shan—the man with that enormous axe over there.”
Therelin looked around a few of the trainees to spot Shan. The Master sat on a wide wooden tree-stump. An axe that must have been as tall as he was leaned against his thigh. The metal head of the weapon must have weighed as much as a man. There was no way an aged man could wield that, was there? Therelin nodded to Byranim, thanked him for his time, and went to find out.