The harbour of Saanazar was a broad, rambling labyrinth. Kedar Port was half the size, and Keth even smaller. In Kedar, Therelin had seen some semblance of order. In Saanazar, he stood, dazed, at the stern of the New Comet. Captain Innar steered them true, somehow; they wove between webs of wooden docks and maze-like formations of anchored ships. Therelin saw sailors with skin darker than his own standing alongside men with skin like pale seafoam. He saw people wearing bright silks or dark flax or nearly nothing at all. When he could finally peer through the tangle of galleons and piers, Therelin caught his first glimpses of Saanazar.
Sprawling out of the rainforest, the city resembled a mountain of mason-laid bricks. The peak of the mount was a castle countless stories tall. On each of its four lofty corners rose a thin tower trailing a long white flag. Surrounding the castle were a dozen others, rising high over the rooftops around and the sprawling forests far beyond. Only one of the other buildings rivalled the central castle. With flying buttresses that looked more like some great beast’s ribcage, the dark grey building rose over the city a few miles beyond the castle. Instead of reaching four corners with guard towers, the penultimate stronghold rose into a single spire, a white and black steeple.
That, Therelin thought, must be the Grey Temple.
Vayao watched their arrival quietly beside Therelin. His hearing had been fully repaired by now, but he let Therelin soak in the sights.
By the time Captain Innar had found a place to dock his ship, Therelin was feeling thoroughly cut off from nature. The forest was miles away, the sky blocked out by towers, and even the open sea was obscured by surf and ships. He stood on the deck suddenly feeling isolated. Despite the heat, goose skin formed on his bare shoulders.
On the docks, Therelin bid farewell to the Captain and set off toward the shore. Vayao followed along, planning to stay a few days at the inn of Therelin’s choice before departing Saanazar.
The serpentine scaffolding was soaked in places, and it creaked back and forth with the waves. When he neared the supply yard at the head of the dock, Therelin brushed through a group of sailors, and then had to step aside for a procession. Servants led the way, followed by guards, followed by a very old man. The man’s wrinkled skin hung around his face and was obscured in a wiry white beard; his pale eyes glanced at Therelin as he wandered past and he amicably croaked, “Welcome to Saanazar.”
Therelin bobbed his head—a traditional greeting he had learned from foreigners in Keth City. “Thank you,” he replied. “Are you from here? Could you give me directions?”
The man nodded.
“I’m looking for the Order of the Storm,” Therelin explained.
A thin smile came to the old man’s face and he held out a pair of fingers to his escort. His servants eased their burdens, setting trunks and chests down on the dry wood. The wealthy traveller cleared his throat. “Did you come to the big city to become a grand powerful sorcerer?”
“I intend to acquire a broad knowledge of magic, but self-defence should come first,” Therelin replied, holding his staff at ease.
“You already have magic?”
Therelin nodded. “I began my training in earnest seven years ago. It was the limits of those magicians available to me that convinced me to leave my home in Keth.” He was getting the distinct impression that he was speaking to someone of importance—not just to the city, but to his own life.
“The Order of the Storm requires membership and servitude to impart their expertise.” As he spoke, the old man unwound a canteen from his belt. He poured out the contents—crystal clear water—onto the deck and then held out the canteen. “Be a good young man and fill this from the sea.”
Therelin looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Why would you want saltwater in your canteen?”
“A skeptic, it seems,” the man hooted. The canteen was passed wordlessly to one of the servants. The plainly garbed aide knelt at the edge of the deck and filled the leather case with seafoam and saltwater. When it was done, the elderly man passed the ruined drink to a thoroughly confused Therelin and instructed him: “If you purify this into a drinkable state by the time my ship departs, I will reward you with a letter of admission to my academy.”
Therelin blinked. He looked down at the canteen, then looked back at the strange old man. Without a word, the man continued down the dock; his servants hurriedly reclaimed their luggage and followed.
Vayao muttered, “Rather vague, I would say.”
“I can do this, I think,” Therelin said. His knowledge of water quality and purification went beyond a simpleton’s, due to his earlier days in his father’s apothecary. He had never cleansed water with magic before, but that would be the only way to accomplish the feat in the next several minutes.
“Don’t concern yourself with me,” Vayao said. “I’ll wait.”
Therelin nodded and immediately emptied out his own water skin. Gently and slowly, he poured the saltwater from the old traveller’s canteen into his own. When he shook the old man’s canteen and tapped it against a nearby dock post, nothing fell out. He repeated the process several times, sinking deeper into a focused state as he poured from one container to the other. Vayao watched with fascination, though Therelin could barely see him. He saw what he imagined the salt in water looked like. He imagined each grain of it growing heavier and heavier. They clustered together and caked against the sides of the canteen. When he poured water back and forth each time, less salt was swept through with it. He shook out the empty canteen each time, and soon he could see the telltale grains caught in the wind.
“Look, they’re calling out for the mooring.” Vayao pointed seaward, where sailors were scampering down from a galley to the dock. The old man waited on the deck, watching Therelin from a distance.
Therelin sprinted along the dock, carrying his staff beside him and the two canteens clenched in his other hand. “Here!” he called, as he got close. He tossed up the man’s original leather canteen and said, “Try it.”
The sailors were unknotting the mooring lines as the old man took a sip. He swilled it around his mouth a moment, but then spat it over the side of the ship. It plopped down into the ocean between the dock and the scratched wooden hull of the ship. “It’s better than salt water, but not good enough,” the man told him. “But don’t let that stop you. Apply for a position at the Academy of Ular Graan; with dedication and hard work, you’ll succeed.”
“Are you Ular Graan?” Therelin called as the sailors shimmied back up the rigging and onto their galley’s deck.
The old man guffawed loudly at Therelin’s question. “Am I? Of course not. I am Lord Kai Allakra. Your name?”
“Therelin!” By now, the ship was easing away from the dock. The lord gave Therelin a wave with the canteen and then turned away from the ship’s railing. The galley lowered its sails into the wind and began the long navigation of the Saanazar port. It was likely the most complicated portion of their voyage. Therelin realized belatedly he had not asked Lord Allakra to where he was travelling or how long he would be gone.
Vayao smiled when Therelin turned to him and asked, “Time to find a tavern now?”
Therelin nodded. “Let’s go.”
The streets of Saanazar were laid out in a grid. Very few avenues wound to and from; most cut along the compass directions. For a city that boasted such an ancient history, Therelin was surprised to see such clear organization. When he asked Vayao about it, the man reminded him that most of Saanazar was rebuilt following the impact of the Orrish. Therelin nodded as they continued down a wide street lined with market stalls. Now it was obvious to him—the architects had redesigned their city with efficiency in mind.
Saanazar consisted of districts. Therelin made this next observation after they crossed through a small fortification lined with guards. The districts didn’t seem divided by wealth, as many estates and mansions could be found in each region they passed. The rich and the poor lived amongst one another. Despite the view from the sea—which had revealed to Therelin that the castle was larger than the Grey Temple—it that seemed most of the city was built around the Temple and not the castle. Many main streets seemed to lead directly toward the enormous cathedral, while the castle on the hill seemed set apart. “The Burnt Keep,” Vayao pointed out, when he once caught Therelin looking up at the heavy stone fortress.
Though the Grey Temple was the fulcrum of the city’s blueprints, hundreds of other temples lined the streets. Therelin passed the Brethren on every corner. The grey robes could blend into the crowd or could dominate it. Some spoke passionately from pulpits in town squares. Others moved about the market stalls or spoke in cloisters with their fellows or with the citizens of the city. Several times, when passing a brothel or gambling house, Therelin spotted the Grey Brothers even there. They were not ashamed of their hypocrisy—Therelin watched one old priest hand a heavy coin pouch to a woman wearing red lace. Seeing their behavior made Therelin curious, not angry. How did this resonate with the masses at whom they furiously preached?
“We should choose a tavern before it gets too late,” Vayao urged. “There will be time for exploring, but I’m getting hungry.”
Therelin smiled. He had been so captivated with the city that he had not even been looking for an inn. Within twenty minutes, they found a place to their liking and price range. The innkeeper of the Skyfire Hearth showed them two rooms before they paid him. Vayao, thankful still for his returned hearing, offered Therelin the prime choice. Therelin unpacked his supplies and then looked out his window at the setting sun on the ocean, the only familiar sight for miles.