He who hides behind a mask will never know the weight of his own face
Southern Proverb
Iron groaned as Darin's gates parted like a grudging jaw. Torchlight spilled across a dozen bored faces—city guards in dust-caked armor reeking of sweat and stale beer, fingers drumming on sword hilts. Some were yawning.
"Token," the captain said, palm out. Lean and angular, he carried himself like a man who'd learned the hard way how much space his body occupied. His twice-broken nose had healed crooked, and the deep blue-gray threads binding his queue marked him as gate-watch through and through.
Kal' Yu raised the Onan Desar's bronze seal as Tez' Mu studied the guards through narrowed eyes. They weren't like Mirin's suspicious gatekeepers. These were border men, their edges worn smooth by years of stale orders and false alarms. Their indifference was more unsettling than any show of force.
"Welcome." The captain sighed the word like it cost him blood. He jerked his chin toward the squat tower behind the gate. "Be our guest."
Tez' Mu dismounted without a word.
The captain led them through a side arch built into the base of the tower, pushing open a thick door scored with runes of warding—faded, but still warm with faint essence. Inside, the tower swallowed the noise of the night. Stone walls and the stink of damp cloth and cooked millet pressed in close.
Up the tight spiral they climbed, the captain's boots striking each step with the rhythm of a man who'd worn grooves in this stone over decades. The lower level exhaled grease and sweat, a dice game's muffled shouts leaking from beneath a door. Higher up, the air turned sharp with oiled steel and parchment—junior officers' territory, marked by twin falcons carved in relief.
The captain did not stop there.
One level higher, he came to a door set with a red-painted glyph—warded not against intrusion, but against misfortune. The paint was still fresh.
He opened it without ceremony. "Here."
The chamber was small, its air tinged with dust and the bitter bite of long-snuffed incense. Four narrow beds lined the walls, placed beneath slanted beams that would force a tall man to hunch. The beds' straw stuffing poked through knife slits in the fabric—whether from age or some past prisoner's futile escape attempt. A cracked basin stood beneath a lattice window, the kind that filtered moonlight but let in cold wind. Two woven mats had been folded and stacked by the hearth, which sat cold. Tez' Mu ran a finger along the windowsill. It came away dusty.
The captain was already turning away. "Have a good night, envoy."
The door clicked shut behind him as he continued up the stair.
Dawn came gray and grudging. Yanak muttered half-formed curses as the party climbed down the stone steps, limbs stiff from the cold and a night of interrupted sleep. Someone—probably Annir—had kicked the cracked basin over in the dark.
No one spoke much.
The tower spat them out into a side courtyard rimmed with storage sheds and a crumbling stone trough. Mist clung to the ground like forgotten breath as they saddled their horses. The city was sprawled in the distance, a buzzing mess of farms, stalls, mansions, and on the outskirts, what looked to be mines.
The dust road hardened into cobblestone as they rode through the city's thoroughfare. A fountain clogged with algae marked the marketplace, where traders bellowed over one another like rival carrion birds. Rotten fruit squelched under wheels of carts laden with produce, fabrics and trinkets.
A merchant sidled up to Tez' Mu, flashing blackened teeth reeking of cloves and greasy fried meat. "Finest silk from the south, my lord! Woven by virgins!"
Tez' Mu scrunched his nose and waved him away.
As they left the main street behind, they came to sprawling farms with tiny farmhouses, all fenced around. Children chased goats across the street, wearing only tunic shorts. Mothers screamed at their children to watch out for horses. Silos and mills dotted the sky, the air thick with the scent of hay, baked bread, livestock, and poultry droppings. Tez' Mu took it all in, his sharp gaze noting the stark contrast between this vibrant chaos and the muted ambiance of Mirin.
Then, rising abruptly against the southern sky, a castle-mansion loomed ahead, its white eagle banner flapping in the breeze.
The Kest estate.
In no time at all, they were through the gates, pulling their horses to a stop in the expansive courtyard. A gardener came at a half-run, his shears still clutched in one hand.
"My lords—" he panted, bowing awkwardly, "Forgive me, but the manor isn't prepared for guests. No word came of your arrival." he faced Kal' Yu as he spoke.
Tez' Mu swung down from his saddle, his boots hitting the packed earth with a thud. "You are informed now," he said, brushing dust from his sleeves. "Fetch your master."
The gardener hesitated. "He's at the army camp, my lord," he replied, lowering his gaze.
A muscle twitched in Tez' Mu's jaw. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Of course he is." He expected nothing less. Turning back to his horse, he remounted. "To the camp."
"We shouldn't go yet." Sari's voice came from the back.
Kal' Yu's face turned dark. He wheeled his horse around. "Since when do you command this party?" he snarled.
Sari ignored the deputy, keeping his eyes on Tez' Mu instead. "We've been traveling for days without rest. You can't appear before the western lords like this."
Tez' Mu glanced down at his dust-caked sleeves, then at the gardener. "Manor's locked, then?"
"Locked and warded, my lord." The gardener's shears snipped at air, as he moved from foot to foot.
"Where's the nearest decent inn?"
The Foal's Paddock struck Tez' Mu as an absurd name for an inn, though given the scene before him, it might have been the only sensible thing in Darin.
Leaning against the wooden balustrade, milk cup in hand, he watched his supposedly disciplined Onan Desar escorts mingle with the raucous crowd below. As far as he saw, the locals cared less for the fact that they had rebelled against the kingdom. If they knew, that was.
They were in high spirits, and from the look of things, that was the norm. Yanak and Mi' Huan had joined an impromptu dancing ring, throwing back shots of wine so quickly they were in a daze. Three squat nomads provided the frenetic music, their features blending Arban and Sidrak heritage in a way that Tez' Mu had never thought possible. They beat hollow shells together while chanting in high-pitched Saor, speeding a familiar western folk song to madness.
"M'lord!" Annir careened into the railing beside him, cheeks flushed crimson.
"What?" Tez' Mu had to shout over the din. Annir grinned widely, pointing at himself.
"I've had—first drink!" he proclaimed, his voice slurred.
"Your first—" Tez' Mu hollered, not out of shock but dismay, "Annir, you're like twelve!"
"I'm fourteen!" the boy sang happily, swaying dangerously close to the edge of the balustrade.
"And if you dive off that railing, you won't see fifteen," Tez' Mu growled, dragging the boy back from attempting to leap right into the middle of the dancing ring below.
He didn't let go of him until they arrived at their rented quarters where he, Sari, and the now inebriated stable boy would sleep.
The relative silence of the room was a relief. Sari looked up from the boot he was shining, brows raised.
"What's with him?"
"First drink," Tez' Mu grumbled, hauling the giggling boy into the room.
"First barrel, by the look of him," Sari said, smirking.
Annir was quipping excitedly, waving his hands above his head. "My lord, look! There are peonies in the sky."
"Ancestors, what kind did they give you?" Tez' Mu swore, as he dumped the boy on the bed. "Sari, anti-intoxicant pills. Now."
"What am I, a walking apothecary?"
"You always carried them at the manor!" Tez' Mu complained, diving forward as Annir reached out to swat at an open candle flame. He grabbed the boy's hands firmly.
"He'll sweat it out," Sari shrugged, picking up the next pair of boots.
"Sweat it out?! He's trying to set himself on fire!" Tez' Mu shouted, frustrated. Had Darin made everyone go mad? His escorts boozing like there was no tomorrow, Kal' Yu nowhere to be seen, Annir drunk...and now Sari?
"Knock him out then," Sari sighed.
With a hiss of frustration, Tez' Mu obliged. He struck the back of Annir's neck, and the boy sagged to the floor. Tez' Mu hoisted him onto the bed and left him sprawled there. Panting, he crossed the room, and sat on the empty bed opposite Sari, who was now setting out clean gloves.
"We're not going to the Kest army camp tomorrow," he said, taking a deep breath.
"Fair," Sari responded, smoothing the creases in a cloak without looking up.
"Fair?" Tez' Mu frowned. "I was ready to crash down their gates this morning."
Sari shrugged, back now turned, "You must have your reasons."
"And is your only reason insisting that I must look pretty for the western lords? Hair combed and all?" Tez' Mu snapped.
Sari turned around, an infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth. "Well, yes."
"Ha-ha. That's the most important thing, of course." he snorted, then shouted, "Sari!" making his servant jump. "Listen. There's something I want you to do."
Sari straightened up as his face settled back into grave efficiency, the face Tez' Mu was familiar with. He sighed, and then sat across from his master, lacing his fingers under his chin.
"What would that be?"
"Gather information. I want to know who the local governors are, which ones don't want a war; and whoever's been in and out of the army camp."
"Then we're in the right place," Sari got up. "Everyone's tongues will be loose tonight," he tilted his head at the muffled cheers coming from downstairs. Tez' Mu nodded in agreement, then he sighed.
"My men have no business getting drunk though. What the hell got into their heads? Where is the so-called honor of the Onan Desar?"
Kal' Yu's voice came through the open door, "Oh, rest assured they'll be regretting this tomorrow, my lord." He appeared in the doorway. "If I may come in?"
Tez' Mu nodded, and Sari strode across the room, slipping past the deputy on his way out, not before they had shared a mistrustful glare.
Kal' Yu stepped inside, his huge frame taking up space and making the room stuffy by a few degrees. "I have news," he began, glancing at the unconscious form of Annir on the bed with distaste.
"I'm listening."
"Kest scraped the fief clean of boys over sixteen. Sent them to the camp for 'routine training'."
Tez' Mu sneered. "The people don't seem bothered."
"On the contrary," Kal' Yu said, his tone grim. "They're seething."
"They have a funny way of showing it," Tez' Mu muttered. Another cheer came from downstairs, and the music stopped. Only to start again.
"Well, I just wanted to inform you; the Kest army numbers is more that the Imperial Palace thinks it is."
"The steward will hear of it," Tez' Mu yawned, stretching. "Once I've had sleep that doesn't taste of saddle leather."
"Good night, my lord," Kal' Yu caught the hint. "I wish you luck on your meeting with Lord Kest tomorrow."
"Oh, I'm not meeting Lord Kest tomorrow," Tez' Mu replied drowsily as he swung his legs onto the bed and pulled the covers over himself. "I want to know what Darin is like first."
He sank into the bed, the muffled revelry from below echoing in his ears. A drunk bellowed 'To Kest!'—cut short by hisses. A thud. Silence fell abruptly.
Tez' Mu smirked. Masks hide many faces, he thought. But not the cracks between them.
***
The following days found Tez' Mu hunched over stacks of papers in his room, flanked on both sides by Kal' Yu and Sari. The deputy and the servant had reached an unspoken truce forged while scouring the streets of Darin late into the night for information. Tez' Mu was now tasked with making sense of the bits and pieces of political trivia.
"You said what? The steward of the Kehir County fled here—and was killed?"
Sari nodded gravely. "The man I spoke to was the undertaker. He said the steward's tongue had been cut out, and his throat slit."
"It appeared that he lost his tongue in Kehir," Kal' Yu added, crossing his arms. "That wound had scarred."
"Hold on!" Tez' Mu raised a hand as something fell into place.
"What?" Sari raised his eyebrows.
"If the steward of Kehir lost his tongue there, that meant he found out something he shouldn't have—plans of rebellion, maybe. So he fled," Tez' Mu started to pace the room, tracing a nonexistent line in the air, "—thinking to come to the lord of the West and inform him of treacherous plans. Offal' Kest listened, and then ordered him executed, because why? He's the one coordinating the rebellion!" he clapped once as it all made sense, then turned to face his subordinates. Kal' Yu shook his head.
"Well, that's a waste. A corpse can't testify."
"It's not entirely a waste." Tez' Mu returned, "Now we know whose side the lord of Kehir is on."
"We knew that before we set out on the envoy mission," Sari rolled his eyes. "Kehir was the second place the Keolyor hit."
Tez' Mu sighed. "Fine, continue."
"There are three congressmen of Darin that Lord Kest has in custody," Kal' Yu reported, "It seems they were against the rebellion back when it was only a plan. But," he paused. "Sari," he tilted his head in Sari's direction, using his name politely for the first time in Tez' Mu's hearing, "was of the opinion that they might be useful to our cause if we rescued them. I think otherwise. We need people with influence who can sway Lord Kest to opt for peace, not incarcerated old-tooters who have lost their authorities."
"Where are they kept?" Tez' Mu asked.
"We don't know yet, but we can find out," Sari responded confidently. Tez' Mu crossed his arms.
"Convince me as to their use, then."
Sari stepped forward, his face stern, "As opposed to the steward of Kehir you're fixated on—"
Tez' Mu rolled his eyes.
"—these men are alive and breathing, lucid, and in possession of information we could leverage. This mission is about protecting the west as it is about weeding it of traitors. After this rebellion, or lack of it, is done with, the Dowager will need new people to fill the positions occupied by the conspirators. Loyal men like these congressmen will be happy to be alive in such a day—and will owe their allegiance to the one who ensured their survival. That means us."
Kal' Yu's jaw tightened. "What if they're bait? Kest's no fool—he'll expect us to sniff out his prisoners."
"And supposing we free them, where are we going to keep them?" Tez' Mu also asked. "Bear in mind, Sari, the fact that we are visitors here, and our every move is being watched." He went back to his chair behind the desk and sat down, crossing his legs.
Sari smirked. "In plain sight, my ke; that's where we'll hide them. Those cursed nahyar flowers are still in my possession."
"What nahyar?" Kal' Yu raised his eyebrows.
"Never mind," Tez' Mu waved a hand, casually dismissing the herbs as if they hadn't nearly killed both him and his servant outside of Mirin. He considered Sari's argument for a moment, then nodded.
"You make a good point. Their loyalty would be invaluable in rebuilding the west after this mess. Alright. Focus your efforts on finding their location. And be discreet. The last thing we need is to alert Lord Kest before we're ready to act."
Kal' Yu cleared his throat. "While I still think courting the influential lords is our best move, I'll support the effort to locate the congressmen."
Sari nodded. "Then we'll need to split our attention. The political game here isn't just about gathering allies. It's also about controlling the narrative."
Tez' Mu ran a hand through his hair, frustration creeping in. "I know. If we're not careful, Offal' Kest will spin this entire rebellion as a righteous stand against a corrupt palace. We need more than just facts. We need to show the people that siding with the Dowager—and the crown—is the better option."
"That won't be easy," Sari remarked. "Especially with the kind of morale these people seem to have. They're not starving, they're not oppressed…. They don't even seem to be suffering under Kest rule."
"Yet," Tez' Mu said pointedly. "That could change if the rebellion drags on. The treasury isn't infinite. Neither are their resources."
"And you intend to leverage that?" Kal' Yu asked.
"If it comes to it," Tez' Mu admitted.
"Then we'll continue our inquiries," Kal' Yu said. "I'll keep my men focused on the Kest estate and its movements. If there's anything more to learn about Lord Kest's plans, we'll find it."
"And I'll dig deeper into the locals' sentiments," Sari added. "Someone must know why this city is so carefree."
Tez' Mu nodded. "Good. Report back tonight."
Both men nodded and left the room, leaving Tez' Mu alone with his thoughts. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Darin was a puzzle, and the pieces weren't fitting together as neatly as he'd hoped.
He turned back to his papers, and picked up one he had not been intending to discuss in front of Kal' Yu.
The renegade lords of the Scith, written in his own hand, stared back at him. He had been thinking about this for a while, and now had another name to add to the list. To Sari, identifying who they were might not make much difference, but Tez' Mu just had a hunch that it would.
The Lord of Kehir. Ink dripped from his quill as he added the north-western lord's name under Lord Rui's. As far as he knew, the Scith had no idea that his loyalties had shifted, as his report on the Keolyor painted them as antagonists to his county.
Tez' Mu rubbed his forehead as he set the paper down, smudging ink on his face in the process. How had Offal' Kest been able to convince these lords, especially one like Jin' Hei, to give up on almost everything they had built in the capital and retreat to the west to aid the rebellion? It was simply beyond him.
He pushed a few other papers aside, scanning them for less than a second as he searched for the one that had the last statutory report the Kest Army had sent to the capital. A word caught his eye on one of the grayer parchments. His breath hitched, and he quickly brought it closer to his face. The words: King-tier matrix practitioner, were inked boldly across the page, tucked within a paragraph about Huiran' Kest, his cousin.
"No way," Tez' Mu gasped, the parchment trembling in his hand. He had long cast the contents of the Yan Manor tome to the back of his mind, but part of the reason for his disinterest was due to an impossible ingredient that particular breakthrough path required: a King-tier matrix practitioner.
So Huiran' Kest was one?
Since when?!
Tez' Mu searched through his desk, then found the copy of the genealogy of the House of Kest he had purchased from a street vendor and flipped the pages till he came to the entry on Huiran' Kest. According to the book, he was a lieutenant of the Kest Army, an honor graduate of the Imperial Academy of Cultivation…. The rest of the entry were things Tez' Mu; and by extension, the majority of noble circles of Ochelon; knew about the heir presumptive of the House of Kest. But a matrix practitioner? And a king-tier one? No one knew that.
A surge of excitement suddenly ran through Tez' Mu. To think he wouldn't have to roam the continent as he thought previously! Who would have imagined that the solution to his bottleneck lay in the help of his cousin!
Help.
Tez' Mu's mood suddenly took a nosedive. Never one to tag along with his mother on her visits to her maiden home, Tez' Mu did not know his cousin at all, much less well. But the rumors were that the heir to the House of Kest was an austere person.
Tez' Mu groaned.
"What is it, my lord?" Annir entered the room, his hair dripping wet, a bowl of soup in his hand. He was munching on dried bread and by his expression seemed to be in great spirits.
"Nothing, Annir," Tez' Mu set the parchment; along with his hopes of leveraging the Breakthrough Matrix Season, back down on the table.
"Are we not going to the army camp today also?" Annir asked. Tez' Mu shook his head, his brows still creased.
"Is there anything I can do for you, my lord?"
Tez' Mu crossed his arms across his chest as he fixed his eyes on the stable boy. "Yes, as a matter of fact. Tell me what you think of my brothers."
Annir's eyes lit up, which annoyed Tez' Mu, but he did not react.
"About my lords?" he tilted his head. "What's there to think?"
"What is your opinion of them?" Tez' Mu pressed. "I just want to know."
"Well, I think they're gallant," Annir said, smiling, then launched into all the instances he had personally seen.
All Tez' Mu did was frown as the boy continued to talk. If a stable boy's perception of the Mu twins was that they were jovial, kind pious men (which they were not); what was to say the public opinion about Huiran' Kest was also not wrong?
Hope surged back into his veins, and he rose with a determined expression. The season came by once in a lifetime, and he would not waste it. His jaw clenched as he made his decision.
"Sari is downstairs, right?" he asked.
"Yes, my lord. Shall I fetch him?" Annir asked, looking up at his master who had now crossed the room to examine the ceremonial attire he was meant to wear as the peace envoy.
"Yes. Tell him to ready the horses—we ride for Kest's camp within the hour."
***
"Why did you suddenly change your mind?" Sari murmured worriedly, as he helped his master into his clothes, "Did you find out something important?"
"I did, in fact," Tez' Mu shrugged. Advancing his cultivation was as important as pulling the kingdom back from the brink of war. No time could be wasted in either.
"Alright," Sari said, and Tez' Mu stiffened, unnerved that it seemed like Sari was reading his mind.
Tez' Mu lifted his head from buttoning his kasa. "The letter Hu' Ran wrote—it's still with you, right?" he asked.
Sari froze, remembering the incident in the cave outside Mirin. He lowered his head as his heart started to palpitate.
"My ke," he said in a low voice. "There's something I have to tell you—"
Kal' Yu burst into the room just then, flanked by Mi' Huan and Yanak.
"The stable boy told us you were preparing to set out," Kal' Yu gasped, panting. It appeared he had ran here.
Tez' Mu nodded. "Prepare the horses."
"Yes, my lord," Kal' Yu did not ask any further questions and only departed with his men. Tez' Mu turned back to Sari, who was now fastening a fur cloak over him. It was colder here in Darin, by a few degrees.
"You were saying?" Tez' Mu asked, but Sari had lost his courage. He glanced downward, unable to meet Tez' Mu's gaze.
"Nothing," what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, Sari concluded.
"Then let's move," Tez' Mu adjusted his hair tie and then crossed the room. Pushing the door open, he stepped outside, disappearing from Sari's line of sight.
Sari sighed, and then traipsed across to his own bed, retrieving a small leather satchel from under the pillow. He reached into it and brought out the red scroll on which the whole peace envoy mission hinged. It wasn't his fault that the steward had written what could potentially have the western lords set on his master like a pack of wolves, but it was his duty to prevent exactly that. His sworn loyalty, after all, was to the House of Mu.