Though it was the Emperor’s private day, the amphitheatre built under the left corner of the Iron Palace was filled. Nineteen of the twenty seats were taken, and several men and women stood on the stage before them. Aside from the crowded auditorium, only the Aura moved about the royal grounds. Aralim waited patiently on a stage as each of the candidates for the empty seat of Selected gave their introductions. Continue reading Aralim 42
Occasionally, Aralim would miss the ocean. He’d travelled many lands, during his ongoing pilgrimage as a Walker, but he’d spent most of his forty-six years on the sunny deck of a proper sailing vessel. It might have been a weakness he needed to shed, or it might have been a clue to enlightenment. After all, the spirit of the ocean and the spirit of the wind were far more powerful than he.
There was a light rainstorm during the final morning of the month. When it had passed, Aralim opened his glass windows and smelled deeply of the fresh air. On a whim, he chose to leave the mansion on West Corid and walk down to the riverside to enjoy the relatively gentle temperatures. A few of the poorer streets he walked down were full of dripping garments of clothes or bedsheets, and the people who had shorn them waited patiently for their world to dry. It didn’t take long, even with the humidity of the rainforest. Continue reading Aralim 41
Along the narrow footpath that connected the courtyard in front of the Iron Palace to the temple of Grand Mage Rattar was a selection of broad-leaf evergreen trees and a rather quiet man in a long orange robe.
Aralim was on his way to visit Rattar and Miresh, or so he had told the Aura at the entrance of the Palace grounds, but he paused to speak with the Aura for a moment. To speak to… he thought, correcting his train of thought. The Aura didn’t generally speak back. “Could you deliver a message to the Emperor for me?” Continue reading Aralim 40
The Iron Palace had a completely different ambience during the Emperor’s private days. Aralim intentionally waited until most of the morning was gone before heading to the capitol; now that he was on the other side of the battle lines, he’d rather not encounter his Ascendance, training with swords in the courtyard.
Of course, once he got there and faced the line of Aura that veiled the entrance to the Palace with brown robes, he remembered just how foolish a notion that was. Continue reading Aralim 38
For breakfast, the servants had prepared a loaf of salty bread, boiled eggs, and a freshly made jam of berries and flax seeds. The table was covered in a blue tablecloth with a black trim, and four braziers in the corners of the room provided ample light as the sun had barely begun to rise. A woolen carpet kept their calloused feet from shivering against the cold stone floor. Aralim usually got up as early as Miresh did, and they shared a meal together. Some days they spoke of her training, others of the Path. Some days they ate in silence. Continue reading Aralim 37
“Can I walk with you today?” Aralim asked.
Miresh stood in the foyer with her orange lantern staff and her folded linen wrap keeping her shape looking small. Narr looked up at Aralim, and Aralim matched his gaze. It was not a glare on either of their parts—Aralim did not dislike Narr. He did not see any hostility between them, just continued analysis. Aralim looked back at Miresh. The young girl smiled, “Of course!”
They set out side-by-side. Ko bade them good-day, the guards smiled and bowed, the regular passersby watched their lantern staves tapping the stones as the two walked down West Corid Avenue toward Iron Way. “Can I ask you something?” Aralim looked down at her as they walked. Continue reading Aralim 36
“You’ll have to stay close to me,” Rattar said. They stood at the corner of a bakery, watching the guards across the street with their faces hidden in cowls and Aralim’s lantern staff left at home. Brallo Ma’kreo, the merchant who had almost met his end at the hands of Yakalaka and the ‘stolen’ knife, was holed up in the old miner’s shaft beneath the abandoned warehouse across the street. The guards there wore leather lamellar—leather layered like chainmail—and held short spears. Continue reading Aralim 35
The royal animal keeper was a short old man who filled a role Aralim had never suspected. When Miresh stood next to him, they were almost of the same height, and his long barn north of the Iron Palace was filled with cages and creatures Aralim had never seen. “This hardly seems like a good place to find a pet. These animals seem feral,” the Walker said. A snake hissed and snapped at the metal lace that lined its cage. Continue reading Aralim 34
Aralim and Hayan had spent the last few days exploring the city of Rema—for the last few weeks, Miresh was reviewing and training things she had already learned, so Aralim had no useful research to provide her. This day they had found an amphitheatre where a priest recounted old stories of Tag’na’s reign and an open-roofed meat deli where they enjoyed the Emperor’s purse. The stories were more like proverbs and the meal more like a small feast. Continue reading Aralim 33
Sometimes, the incense they burned in Rema was so strong for Aralim he felt tears in his eyes. In Trell, and across his Path-following homeland, the lanterns burned by the pious were often accompanied by opal tree leaves or bark. The candle tongue would softly eat their edges to produce a smooth aroma, not the harsh almond, lavender, or myrrh that was commonplace in the homes of Numa’nakres. He hadn’t seen rainbow wood like that since a month before his landing in Lantern Town. Continue reading Aralim 32