Without further ado, they finally arrived at the main gate of Tabulém. The Falkin who had escorted them saluted Mirir and soon headed back to where they had parted ways with Captain Tahen-Torr on the nearby plains. They left so quickly that they were soon on the horizon, and after a few minutes, the entire platoon had completely vanished from sight.
"Ah, you've finally arrived. Greetings, illustrious adepts, and my dear Mirir. We were awaiting you with some anticipation," said a tall and slender mistress kindly, known as Mila-Roi within the Order. She was commonly tasked with teaching adepts botanical-based enchantments. Her greater intention was to reveal the secrets of the origin of life imprinted within the seeds of plants themselves. But her talents in this area also conveniently served the various Kingdoms of Ewahara, for agricultural, textile, medicinal, and even industrial purposes. She was also the one who organized the Flower Ball in the Hills of Faront. She approached so delicately that only those more versed in the art of silent perception noticed when she was already there.
"Mistress!" said Noara with joy. She seemed to like this mistress, and her presence made her feel safer. Upon hearing the adept call her attention, Mila-Roi greeted her with a sincere smile but didn't seem to have time for more than that.
"My lady," said Mirir with a slight bow. "I performed a revitalization chant a little before arriving here, but the mental exhaustion of all involved perhaps requires more appropriate sleep before they are properly questioned about recent events. Would your most worthy Grace not agree with me?"
"I do agree, my dear Mirir. They can and should rest; it was expected, in fact. Vezad wasn't counting on the events of this afternoon during your journey back to the temple of Tabulém. However, I hope your grace has some time to spare to speak with me alone, for I would like to hear more from you about what happened today, if you still have the energy to deal with it." concluded the mistress with stoic airs, yet they were also subtly sweet and refreshing like the morning dew.
"Yes, of course. I will be brief before meeting your gentle presence. Just let me bid a proper farewell to these pupils of ours. You can wait for me in front of the Garden of Dreamers; I will meet you there shortly," said Mage Mirir in a more reserved tone. Mila-Roi nodded her head, which was responded to by Mirir-Roi with another nod. She smiled again at Noara and finally headed towards the Crowned Garden, which was near the center of Tabulém, right below the Astral Tower. As Mila-Roi distanced herself, Santimar couldn't help but once again observe with care her walk, which more resembled a constant levitation. This brilliant locomotion technique is known as the floating step of Berezka on this side of the existential planes, and its elaboration is a veiled secret even here. Mistress Mila was truly of an almost surreal gentleness and softness, both in her statements and her movements.
The meeting, postponed for the next day, would be held in the Hall of Masters, located next to the great Tower of Tir'Zuno in the eastern region of the city of Tabulém. This tower was a bit smaller than the Astral Tower in the city center, but it didn't go unnoticed with its impenetrable aspect of colossal adornments. Furthermore, the city as a whole had few buildings sufficiently tall to be seen from anywhere within it, and these towers were among those constructions that could be noticed from a distance. But the residents of Tabulém considered it better this way, for it was known in that society that the less obstructed the admiration of the sky was, the greater the feeling of freedom and creative potential its own people would have.
After a brief admiration of the steps of the venerable Mila-Roi, Mirir-Roi turned to the adepts gathered there with an air of readiness and told them to return to their quarters. Both local adepts and adepts from other temples had the same building as a dormitory, located closer to the southwestern zone of the city, near the Market of Crafts and Magical Artifacts. All the adepts then headed there, with the exception of Lacendir, Noara, and Santimar, whom Mirir asked to have a word with in private, in a more discreet corner of the southern entrance of the city where they had arrived. They went to a small garden near the entrance portal and sat on one of the ornamental stone benches there.
"You already understand that the meeting you were called to will be tomorrow, given what happened today on the return journey. So I ask that you be ready when I come to fetch you myself at the dormitory. The meeting will start in the morning at the toll of the fifth violet cycle, as is customary for the morning meetings of the Mages to happen at that time. Well, the important thing now is for you to rest… and no romantic flourishes that make you lose track of time," said Mirir-Roi, looking at Noara and Santimar, while Lacendir gave a half-laugh, caught by surprise by the Mage's unexpected comment, who also laughed a little but soon changed his tone to complement what he said with a good omen. "I take this opportunity to say that such a sincere bond between you is more fortuitous than you imagine. For whatever the gravity of any situation that presents itself, and whatever your part in what is to come, the strength of love is always of immeasurable importance. And Lacendir, this also applies to you and Emanayah. But let's talk more about this tomorrow. For now, may God guide you, and may your dreams be comforting and revealing."
Thus, Mirir-Roi saluted them once more and headed towards the Garden of Dreamers. The young adepts naturally took into consideration everything the old Mage said and began preparing to go to their respective rooms. Lacendir was also in the dormitory, as his wife had taken advantage of his practical lesson to visit her parents with their son in Mirrakep, and he wanted to use the opportunity to mingle more with the other adepts. He then went ahead, as he didn't want to be so inconvenient as to disturb the nighttime farewell of the other two. But in truth, he also had his own privacy to think about. He never imagined he would have a part in something so serious. Someone as irreverent and disinterested as him? He really couldn't imagine what his role in all this would be.
"Santi, I confess I'm anxious about what will come to light tomorrow, but being by your side comforts me. You calm me so much; this is good, so good. Even when we were apart from each other, I now realize I already felt the beginning of that spark, which has now become a clear flame within me, within us. Physically, we may not have danced at that Ball, but our spirits, it seems, have been doing so for some time. It's as if our souls already resonated before our bodies even touched personally. Don't you feel it?" asked Noara, somewhat shy but also inspired by the emotion she felt.
"I do feel it, Noara. Better said, I vividly feel that yes. Regarding what touches the soul, everything is so much clearer that it would be difficult to hide this bond that brought us closer," replied Santimar, caressing Noara's face, followed by a sweet kiss that seemed to want to seal that night. "I really wanted to savor more this budding of emotions, these most intense sensations. But as we both know, tomorrow will be a demanding day, not only for the two of us but for the entire rest of the Order, or rather, perhaps the entire world. It's better that we are fully recovered and willing to deal with what will be discussed, giving our best."
"You're right, Santimar of the golden eyes. Just one more kiss then… to bless our dreams…" said Noara as her lips met Santimar's once more, but with a more delicate and brief touch, gentle as the moonlight adorning that beautiful garden, with multicolored stained glass at its center depicting the moon and the sun in predominant shades of violet for the moon and gold for the sun.
Both then headed towards the dormitory, slowly, as they seemed to want to enjoy that moment together as much as possible within the time that was prudent before saying goodbye when they reached their respective rooms. But when they finally arrived as was to be, with smiles and hugs, they hesitantly moved away from each other and entered their rooms. By that time, the dormitory already had few lights on in the corridors, only enough to see one's own steps with due clarity. It was an obvious sign that everyone there was already asleep, thus concluding that the environment demanded the most respectful silence from the two.
Despite the sudden terror that had afflicted the adepts on the afternoon of this passing day, the night continued placidly in the dormitory. Perhaps it was the effect of Mage Mirir's chant that still had prolonged after-effects, or perhaps it was because Tabulém itself was a highly protected city with the most varied and powerful enchantments and blessings. But the fact was that, despite everything, the adepts felt entirely safe there where they slept. And so another night of sleep passed in this so mystical and dreamlike city, without unexpected events lurking, only the song of nocturnal animals and the wind whispering through the bedroom windows could be heard between one sigh and another.
At the crowing of the roosters, the more active adepts began to stretch to get up, while the Gahika Garut was already watching the sky from his window. He was always the first to wake in the dormitory. He seemed to understand the morning conversation of the birds gathering in the nearby trees, for that was what he usually observed from his bedroom window—a room he shared with Bartur when the Gahika was present in Tabulém. The enormous adept was, ironically, always one of the last to wake, perhaps because his overly large body needed more time to recharge its energies, which made sense in a way. When all the adepts were finally present in the dormitory's canteen, the head chef, responsible for the basic feeding of the adepts who usually rested there, began to beat his silver spoon against the cauldron of arapia soup that would be served to this group that morning. It was a very light soup but had an undeniable energizing effect. Its name referred to a small red bird of the same name, and as the person who drank the soup could feel like that little bird flying swiftly in the morning sky. The metallic sound that reverberated made all the adepts turn to the robust chef, who, upon seeing he had their attention, spoke.
"Ahem, good morning, my favorite adepts! I ask you to rise, for the reason for my noisy tap is to inform you that we have a special guest here with us: the regional inspector of our dear Order, Gazahk Boh-Azev!"
This unforeseen news was met with a mix of surprise and suspicion among the adepts—some with perplexed looks, others with sudden sighs. What did an inspector want with them? It was known that beyond diplomatic matters, this division of the order was primarily responsible for investigating crimes involving artifacts and members of the Order! The appearance of an Inciferus was indeed a case for investigation, but what did the adepts have to do with it? Wouldn't Mirir himself be qualified enough to inform everything needed? Was this an independent investigation? Santimar wondered, a bit nervous.
"Thank you for the introduction, Mage-cook Carimor, but you can leave the rest to me," said the inspector, entering the canteen with an entirely harsh and disciplinarian presence, yet elegant in its own right. Gazahk had dark hair combed and fixed back with the help of some special gel, with a shaved beard not a single hair out of place. His moss-green and ochre-brown uniform looked like the dress uniform of a high-ranking military officer but had a cut in more sober and less ostentatious tones. He carried a laureated saber with ornaments of zeront dragons at his waist, which seemed more decorative, but Santimar could swear its blade was very sharp—sharp enough to cut anything in there without much effort, or so his intuition said, and it never failed.
The inspector then raised his face and stared at each of the adepts one by one with a severe, inquisitive, and even invasive gaze, yet at the same time stoic and disciplined. He didn't seem in a hurry to study the members in training of his Order; he did this while resting his right hand on his saber, which seemed to draw attention to itself menacingly. Such intimidation made many of the adepts present try to avoid his gaze, but such timidity only made him stare longer at whoever was afflicted by this sudden hesitation. He seemed to enjoy that. However, when he stared at Santimar, he seemed irritated by something. Santimar looked back at him naturally and noticed his irritation but did not hesitate; he continued to look back without any fear to offer. Gazahk almost displayed disdain at the fearless adept's attitude but soon turned his attention to the next adept, and the next, until he reached Nefuri, who was lost in thought looking at the floor. He remained seated in a darker corner of the canteen and didn't even seem to be paying attention to what was happening or what the chef had said. He was the same pale and grim adept from before, who in Santimar's recent memory had only persisted in his displeasure. But this time, the ill-humored adept stood up as if by reflex and became visibly disturbed when confronted by Gazahk. Moreover, he seemed to know him.
"You here??? Why won't you just leave me alone, you old busybody? Who else needs to know that you're my father???" said Nefuri, revealing an even greater surprise to the unprepared listeners. After all, who could have imagined? That inspector with harsh airs and full of influence was the father of this same impulsive and controversial adept! Nefuri was already an adult regarding his age and also by virtue of being an adept, for there were no children who could be adepts in the Order, not even apprentices, which was the initial rank of those who joined, given the dangers that some artifacts and study paths could represent for beings of infinite potential but still so inexperienced. Even teenagers were extremely rare among apprentices. However, Nefuri still had a very youthful countenance and was indeed still in his early twenties, while Santimar and the others were by now around 30 years old on average. So he could often be considered immature by those who analyzed him more deeply, both in his features and his behavior. Perhaps that was even why the Order still had hope for his behavioral rehabilitation, considering he still had ample room to mature.
Santimar could hardly believe what he heard coming from Nefuri's mouth and connected his eyes with Noara's in search of some explanation, but she gestured in silent response that she also had no idea that Nefuri was the son of such an influential inspector. Regional inspectors exerted influence both within the Order and within the police force of the Kingdom where they were exercising such a position, giving them dual status, certain diplomatic immunities, and quite a few privileges. But not always was such power well used, even by Order members.
Gazahk gripped Nefuri's arm firmly, which seemed to hurt given the expression on the pale, hooded adept's face, but this didn't stop the inspector from continuing to hold him that way. He approached his son's face and said in a harsh manner, looking him straight in the eyes without even blinking. What is heard next is his voice in a tone as severe as his presentation; it didn't have Nefuri's hoarseness, but it spoke so harshly that it didn't seem very different.
"I already told you, insubordinate boy, not to treat me as family outside of our properties! Here I am the Regional Inspector, and you are nothing but a undisciplined adept! Do not disappoint me again! You should have imagined I would come after you after the incident. You will come with me now, and do not dare challenge me this time! We have much to discuss…" Having said that, the inspector pulled his son back and pushed him towards the outside of the canteen, where Santimar could see that there were already five sub-inspectors waiting. They quickly intercepted the feverish boy when he bumped into them. Santimar noticed they were of lower hierarchy than Gazahk given the different coloration of their uniforms: light green with silver-gray. There was also the matter of the absence of sabers at their waists; in their place was a medium-sized dark brown staff made of wood. They seemed as light as they were resistant. Santimar didn't know, but the wood of these staffs was from a tree with magical properties found in the Valomyric Forest where he had received his calling. It was a tree found with some rarity, and being struck by its wood could leave an incautious person affected by disorders of confusion and submission, which could be convenient for inspectors in certain situations—not that dealing with adepts was one of them.
Nefuri made a gesture as if to protest, but just a piercing glare from his father in retaliation was enough to discourage him from persisting in this clash between the two. He then made a face and turned around, heading towards the dormitory exit with the sub-inspectors surrounding him. This unexpected episode made Santimar ponder a bit more about the possible causes, or consequences, of what tormented Nefuri, but it was still too early to pass clear judgment on the matter. One thing he already knew: neither the father nor the son seemed to have any more predilection for what we understand as family affection, or any affection at all, it seemed. However, before he could think more about the case, behold, Gazahk turned back to the group of adepts, and now he made himself even more severe than before.
"And don't any of you think about gossiping about what happened here, for you should know that I am already inclined to question anyone present here directly in the Tortuous Room. So it would be prudent on your part not to force certain… unpleasant happenings."
"Now really, sir, you are already abusing your authority, Inspector!" shouted Noara in an impulse of rebellion, perhaps unthinking, but her courage was noble. Santimar felt compelled to support her. The other adepts preferred for the time being to just observe silently, even Lacendir, though he did so only because he didn't quite know what to say to help. The cook Carimor remained silent, scratching his head behind the kitchen counter with an air of indecision; he seemed to want to pretend he wasn't even there. He didn't want problems with any of the parties involved in the altercation.
"It's true, Noara. You may be the regional inspector, but to threaten us, who are adepts of the Order of Yatar that you are a part of, would be an affront against the Order itself!" said Santimar in aid of the recipient of his affection, then continued. "A regional inspector can say what he wants, but I doubt he can do what he wants!"
"Do not test me!" said Gazahk, already visibly irritated, gripping the hilt of his still-sheathed saber firmly, not hiding a brief intention to unsheathe it. However, he soon became more introspective, stopped moving, took a deep breath, adjusted his hair, and quickly changed his demeanor. The countenance that was once irritable now returned to being somewhat more inquisitive. "But alright, if that's how these new adepts think, perhaps it is prudent for them to have a more intense 'lesson' about life outside this so… zealous city. It seems to me that you two have decided to go to the Tortuous Room of your own volition after all, seeing as you don't know that my jurisdiction goes beyond the Order itself. If I consider you a threat to the Kingdom of Javatep, I can perfectly well… arrest you, yes… and perhaps I should indeed do so. Do not think that because we are of the same Order we are obliged to maintain the best of terms, for we are not. Here I am the symbol of the authority of the Kingdom of Javatep, and to challenge me is to challenge the Kingdom itself!"
It seemed to be the first time Santimar felt a knot in his throat in a dispute like this, a discussion at the level of national interests. He realized Gazahk was serious and couldn't see an immediate way out of that tense situation. He became even more worried about Noara, about what could happen to her in the infamous Tortuous Room. Just from what he had heard about the room, it made him feel chills. He considered it possibly the most dangerous of his Order's inventions, used to inquire into the minds of dangerous criminals who refused to reveal their most macabre secrets. For just as there are techniques to read others' thoughts, there are also techniques to hide what one thinks. This room, however, uses very unconventional means to invade the very astral field of the person imprisoned within it. Upon reading about it in one of his older classes, Santimar had concluded at the time that it might be a necessary evil against certain irremediably nefarious individuals, but he had never encountered the idea of himself ending up in it. He had never done anyone such grave and intentional harm as to deserve such punishment, nor had he ever intended to do so. However, he ended up realizing, perhaps too late, that in power games, where even his Order had its part to play, guilt is not always taken into consideration in decisions against potential adversaries of those intoxicated by power. And behold, he now found himself facing someone who seemed to take "sips" of power as if it were water.
"You… you can't do that!" Santimar reacted once more, but this time he lacked enough conviction to believe in the effectiveness of his own words against such an adversary. He looked at Noara and saw that she still challenged the inspector with her gaze, and she did so without blinking, but he also noticed that she didn't quite know what to do next. Now all that remained was the hope of some superior intervention, whatever it might be. Although Lacendir was not such a solution, he was about to interfere, even afraid of ending up in the Tortuous Room with his other two friends. He thought of his son and his wife mainly, but he couldn't let his best friend be wronged like that in front of him. However, when he finally seemed to muster enough courage to open his mouth, someone spoke first.
"And he will not do it, at least not while I have any relevance in our honored and just Order." Behold, to the relief of everyone there, especially Santimar and Noara, Mirir-Roi appears from the corridor leading to the canteen. He wore different attire: black with golden traces and designs of sacred scriptures in golden line from one side to the other, possibly the attire he would wear at the meeting, which was about to begin after all.
This time, it was Gazahk himself who was taken by surprise. He didn't know that Mirir-Roi was responsible for that group of adepts; his son gave him no details of his life as an adept. The inspector didn't hide from his expression that such a surprise did not please him much. For a moment, he intended to become more irritated again; his authority had just been called into question. But it was Mirir himself who did it—a war hero, a friend of the King! He didn't want that kind of adversary, not there, not now. So he decided to elaborate a "diplomatic dodge" to rid himself of the unforeseen problem he had caused. He recomposed himself as much as he could, quickly adjusted his hair again, gently moved his hand away from the saber, gestured a salute of respect towards Mirir, and finally released his entirely rearranged narrative to adapt to the new variable present in this political "equation"—a variable that was certainly undesirable for Gazahk but was now inevitable to deal with in the best way possible.
"But of course, venerable Mirir… I was merely testing the resolution of your adepts. I see these two are particularly courageous." He said this while pointing cordially at Noara and Santimar, who had expressive incredulity stamped on their faces. Then he continued with his desired manipulation of events. "I am even satisfied with what I see. If we continue to have more adepts like this, not even this new crisis of the resurgence of the Inciferi will be such a big problem in the end. Still, I felt compelled to remind them that the world out there is not always just, so what is more appropriate than firsthand experience, right? And I wouldn't have been able to convince them of this lesson of mine without adopting the due effort and seriousness myself…"
It's worth noting that although Mirir was quite versed in reading minds—having even taught the theoretical and practical basics of telepathy to adepts of another temple—Gazahk was equally versed in hiding what he thought, which he learned after so much use of the Tortuous Room, normally against those already considered guilty of grave crimes before the Court of the Emeriti of the Kingdom of Javatep, but also against some opponents who had openly challenged him during his more… severe inspections and who hadn't had the same luck as Santimar. Mirir, however, was no fool, and when the mind didn't give away the game, there were finer details to observe: an excess of delicacy here, a carelessness in movement there, or even an exaggeration in the very energy or emotion being emanated. That was all he needed, sometimes, to establish the truth in what was said. Yet, not even in this regard was it so easy to analyze the inspector's performance, for Gazahk was also studied in this same subject, and his movements seemed those of an orator from the Congress of the Valicansius in Osore, the capital of Mahakin, defending a referendum as if its urgent acceptance depended on it. It was visible, at least in this point, that Gazahk transpired great political aspirations.
Santimar had already noticed how versed his Mage was, but he also perceived how efficient his opponent was at anticipating the exposure of his real intentions. He felt like interfering again but was more cautious this time; he thought it could make things worse. Noara and Lacendir seemed to be in the same dilemma, especially since even the great majority of the other adepts seemed to start believing in the Inspector Regional's narrative inversion due to the so convincing way he presented it. Mirir was serenely observing Gazahk in his speech, but Santimar noticed that he subtly raised his left hand towards the adept with golden eyes, giving him to understand with the signal that he was asking him to be calm. This brought momentary relief to Santimar, for after all, the Mage did not appear to have doubts about what had actually occurred.
"I understand, but next time it is preferable to ascertain the appropriate time and place before intending to give harsher lessons to the still inexperienced adepts. Perhaps it would be better for you to address this at the meeting we are about to have, that is, if you prefer to spend some time lecturing at the Temple, as you perhaps desire." Mirir finally spoke with an air that did not seem impressed with the inspector's speech but still conveyed an idea of cordiality and respect for his position.
"It will not be necessary, eminent Mirir-Roi. As you must know, my function as Regional Inspector already takes much of my time; I certainly would not have the conditions to lecture now. But I humbly thank you for the offer," replied Gazahk somewhat dryly but avoiding being rude at all costs. He seemed to want to end that confrontation as soon as possible; he gave signs that he was getting somewhat exhausted from his performance. He soon continued, "Send my regards to the other Mages. I would love to be with them, but unfortunately, I still have things to do and am already on my way."
Before, however, ensuring if Mirir had anything more to say, Gazahk gestured a formal farewell to the Mage in ceremonial attire and also towards the group of adepts, though without looking at them, with the exception of a brief exchange of glances in a colder and darker tone with Santimar. He then turned his back and withdrew towards the dormitory exit. Santimar felt that coldness linger within him for a while, which made him somewhat uncomfortable. The sensation was that the inspector was memorizing his features; it didn't seem like he wanted to end it there with him. But now that he had left, he felt more at ease to protest about what had happened, immediately going towards the Mage to tell him everything that needed to be said about what had actually occurred. Noara and Lacendir followed him with the same purpose in mind.
"Mage! That inspector really wanted to take us to the Tortuous Room; you have to believe us!" Santimar said right away, without ceremony.
"It's true, Mage; he is very cold! How can someone like that be such an important inspector of the Order?" added Noara without hiding her indignation.
"I sign under what they both say, Mage; it was frightening just to see!" completed Lacendir, who felt the most pressured of the three to participate, seeing as he hadn't managed to find the courage to react before. Bartur, who until then had observed everything from afar, behind the group of adepts, seemed to want to believe the three, but he wasn't very good at reading dissimulation; he wasn't accustomed to dealing with falsehood. His people were famous for their spontaneous honesty, so he ended up staying silent with an indecisive look on his face. Another who also seemed to reflect on what had happened was Garut, but this one gave off an air of being perplexed for other reasons; the Gahika was already seen gazing at the sky through the canteen window again.
The Mage listened in silence for a moment, with a tender and understanding look towards the three adepts there in front of him. But before responding anything to them, he turned his head a bit towards the Mage-cook and asked him to serve breakfast, in order to appease spirits and relax the entire group that was there. But while Mirir did this, Santimar heard his voice speak simultaneously inside his own head, saying, "I do not doubt you, Santimar, but here is not the place to speak more to you." And as soon as the message was said, the adept noticed that Mirir looked back at him and gestured affirmatively, nodding his head slightly.
"I think it's better we take the opportunity to eat as well," said Santimar, turning to Noara and Lacendir, who expressed strangeness upon hearing him but continued as he perceived such a reaction. "Trust me, or rather, trust the Mage. Now is not the moment. Remember, we will leave here with him for the meeting."
Having said that, Noara took a deep breath. She seemed the most determined of the three to take the due measures as soon as possible, whatever they might be. But patience now seemed to be the most crucial measure, so she tried to focus more on the long-awaited meeting. Lacendir, in turn, seemed more relieved; if the Mage was in action, then it was a sign for him that everything was alright. So the three went to the canteen line that was already formed, staying right behind Bartur, who from time to time turned to look at them with a visible embarrassment on his face. Lacendir noticed and soon gave him a few pats on the back to signal that everything was alright, which worked, for Bartur didn't take long to become all smiling as was customary. Santimar seemed more interested in that brief interval in making sure Noara was well. He was behind her in the line and was the last in it, so he took the opportunity to approach her ear and whispered.
"It was certainly a tense situation, but your courage was immense, and our luck is greater than one might think. The tape to measure it would certainly be extensive." He thought of a rhyme to lighten the mood; who knows, maybe her so-desired smile would come, especially after this morning's mishap. Behold, he gets his prize. She turns with that smile of hers as sweet as he could want it to be, looks him in the eyes with tenderness, kisses her own hand, and touches it to Santimar's chest, in the region of his heart.
After that, Santimar felt quite relieved, even more so for feeling that she also felt that way. They then served themselves with that exotic, delicious, and energizing soup and chose a table more on the edge of the canteen to sit at. These were Santimar, Noara, Lacendir, Bartur, and Garut. The latter appeared out of nowhere and asked to join them at the table; he seemed to want to talk about what had happened. His cat-like eyes weren't so different from what Santimar was used to; he had many Gahika friends in his childhood. They were hard to beat in a game of hide-and-seek, especially at night. Santimar couldn't help but notice that Garut's expression wasn't very comforting, but he felt he could trust what he had to say. Mirir-Roi, in turn, had not joined the adepts to eat his breakfast; instead, he had entered the kitchen with chef Corimor when all the adepts had served themselves and seemed they were going to have a private conversation about the events of that morning. He did not indicate they should be brief in their meal, for there was still about a violet cycle until the meeting started, which equated to two of our hours.
"I see you've already gained the antipathy of a regional inspector, and that just one day after the first Inciferus since… the first war. I don't know if I should be impressed… or worried," finally said the intergalactic feline, then setting himself to gaze at his own polished claws while savoring the arapia soup with parsimony. He continued, "Be that as it may, you have gained my sincere interest. It's not every time that happens."
"Ah! So you mean you believe us? That's good! It's a relief to know that. It even seems like everyone was hypnotized by the Inspector. Good to know it didn't work on you," Lacendir said promptly while sketching a friendly smile towards Garut. However, the latter didn't seem so interested in smiling back, but it wasn't out of malice, as he intended to explain briefly.
"Indeed, Lacendir. All the rest of the adepts don't appear to be at all interested in questioning the 'official' narrative of what happened here, and I am not going to be the one to change the natural order of things. I just came to make it clear that I became interested in your case, but I don't want to get involved more than that. My people are not so influential, nor do we have our own Kingdom… yet." He said this somewhat daydreaming but soon returned to himself and continued, "And if we were to gain the antipathy of one side or the other, it would only bring more problems for us Gahikas. I hope you understand, especially you, Santimar. Your Kingdom has been the most charitable towards our people, and for that, even your subjects have our eternal gratitude. By the way, I recently found out that you are a long-time friend of my first cousin, Keriat. Know that Safiri, his father, is my mother's brother. By the way, he sent a message for you when I visited my family the last time at the Grand Bazaar of the Gahikas that takes place in your Kingdom, and he had returned from one of his expeditions at the same time. I apologize for not mentioning it sooner, but I ended up not finding time since I arrived in Tabulém a few days before this practical lesson of ours with the onirin, complete with dramatic twists. As for the message, I'm not sure I understood it very well, but it was to say that 'In the Village of Okyat, the irreverent… Warakol is sorely missed.'" Garut completed after a contained effort to remember the name by which Santimar was called in his land, followed by a sudden expression of cordiality in his gaze towards the group.
Santimar found himself unearthing very dear memories upon hearing Keriat's name. It had been a while since he heard about him; he was indeed a good friend from his childhood and teenage years, for they grew up in the same village, this one called Okyat. But Santimar ended up losing contact with Keriat when the Gahika became an officer in the Expeditionary Army of Onat. Joining the army of Onat was, in fact, one of the most common ways for Gahikas to express their gratitude for the welcome in the Kingdom and at the same time establish some influence that could help them also have some voice in decisions in Onat. Santimar also found himself somewhat curious about the newly confessed kinship of Garut with Keriat. After all, it wasn't a rule that every Gahika was related, much less closely related, for as recorded in the Order's codices, the mothership that fell from the sky was indeed immense and housed millions of Gahikas, with almost all surviving its fall, since the fall narrated around campfires was more of an emergency landing. It was said, however, that the ship was already in critical condition by that time, after so much travel without maintenance, having shattered under its own weight shortly after its forced landing, exploding into thousands of pieces a few days later due to the pressure accumulated in its internal engineering. Very little of its technology survived the impact; to this day, its more advanced rusty wreckage still adorns the confines of the golden desert of Yalunde where it had landed.
"Keriat is your cousin? Wow, Garut, what a surprise! I also miss that cunning cat!" said Santimar with joy, then added with an air of curiosity, "It seems we have more in common than I once pondered. After all, your reserved manner has always been an obstacle for anyone to approach you, with the exception of Bartur, perhaps." Bartur smiled when mentioned; he wasn't even trying to understand the conversation but liked being in the middle of it. "And you also hardly ever come to Tabulém. On the rare times I saw you, you were already going on some pilgrimage or mission, and when you returned, you didn't stay more than a day or two. In fact… I don't even really know if the Temple of Tabulém is your original temple…"
Indeed, Santimar only came to know Garut's name because one day he stopped to talk to Bartur, and the feline was sitting beside him for a few moments while resting from another of his journeys.
"I prefer not to go into those details if you don't mind, Santimar. Just know that I lean in your favor," replied Garut, somewhat cutting off Santimar's reasoning but in a subtle and courteous way. "Speaking of favors, who knows, maybe one day we'll exchange some… Well, this soup is indeed effective, and now I feel disposed to go on my way. It was a pleasure being with you. Salavam!" Salavam was the term used by the Gahikas to say goodbye, meaning something like "May peaceful winds grace your path." Having said that, Garut got up without much ceremony, gave Bartur a pat on the shoulder (who smiled back), touched his chest with the Order's habitual salute, and demonstrated the intention to head outside the dormitory with a small shoulder bag that had been in his possession since he had come down to the canteen. The Gahika adept didn't seem to have much free time after all.
"Salavam, Garut! I hope one day we have more time to talk!" replied Santimar, already standing, bidding farewell to the Gahika before he left so hastily. Garut looked at him with serenity, seemed to think a bit, and then nodded positively, finally leaving.
"But… what is Warakol, huh, Santi?" asked Noara, who until then had been just listening to that whole conversation with a mix of admiration and curiosity.
"Ah, yes… it means 'Illuminated Night' in the continental language. It's a nickname my childhood friends made up for me, because of my golden eyes in contrast to my dark skin. I thought it was kind of tacky when I was a child, but I learned to like it later, especially now for the sentimental value it carries."
The language mentioned by Santimar was officially called Falant, popularly known as the continental language among the kingdoms of the Continent of Emezira. It was therefore the most commonly used language in dialogue between the nations of the continent. Its origin was attributed to the Ethimolos Academy itself, in the city of Tabulém. It had a deep connection with the Order of Yatar and was even presided over by one of the Order's Mages, with the difference that the Academy had its headquarters open to the general public, even though it was common for the majority of new Order members to enroll in the Academy to learn the continental language. They did this in their initial phase when they were still considered mere apprentices, as it was one of the primary requirements for those who joined the Order, considering that the tasks assigned to new Order members spread throughout the entire continent, and knowing how to dialogue with the subjects of any of the kingdoms played an essential role. "Speaking" of which, it was at this same Academy that Lacendir met his wife, the dear Emanayah.
"I found it beautiful, Santi. I'm going to call you that now, and don't even think of saying no!" said Noara in a more cheerful and youthful tone after the Gahika disappeared from the canteen. It even seemed like the recent problems no longer existed for her, which pleased Santimar, who smiled effortlessly at her upon hearing her speak.
"Cool, Santi. I wish I had such a poetic nickname, haha. Isn't that right, Bartur?" added Lacendir, who seemed to want to maintain that lighter atmosphere after so much tension, pulling Bartur into the conversation.
"Yes… beautiful name… sounds good… I also liked it… in my land they call me Baradum… means 'Content Mountain'… I'm happy to remember… thank you for that…" replied the gentle giant with his soothing slowness.
"Look, noble brother, they're talking about nicknames. How funny. We also have nicknames, or would they be titles of nobility?" said Irmilan suddenly to his brother Maratu. Both had just arrived at the foot of Santimar's table after getting up from where they had eaten their small morning meal. They had approached the group of adepts elegantly, which in itself already gave away the noble origin of the two, and they had heard Bartur's speech, taking the cue to insert themselves into the conversation. Apparently, it wasn't just Gerut who had become interested in Santimar and Noara; however, the twins' interest seemed to be for another reason.
All adepts possessed similar cloaks, varying only in some symbolic details on the inner parts of the garment from temple to temple, for the purpose of posthumous identification by Order officials in case of some tragedy. Despite this, Irmilan and Maratu also had adornments and jewels with polished precious stones on their waists, wrists, and necks. Even the fabric of their cloaks was made of an obviously expensive material, extremely fine and soft yet very resistant. They had no intention whatsoever of hiding their noble origin; on the contrary, they wanted everyone to know it in practically everything they did. So much so that it was in one of these displays of ostentation that Santimar finally found out who they were, in the main hall of the Order's temple in Tabulém, where what they said at the time about their family's vast riches echoed throughout the entire room, which, due to its acoustic structure, facilitated such echo. Santimar wasn't sure yet if they acted this way due to matters of "personal etiquette," where their own family demanded that the prestige of the same be emphatically demonstrated to the four corners wherever the brothers went, or if it was simply pure arrogance. Be that as it may, he didn't like this behavior much, but he saw no real evil in the brothers until then and never judged that it was reason enough to have antipathy towards them.
"I believe they are both, noble brother. They are titles that can be seen equally as nicknames, since both our own parents and our mere employees call us that when we allow it: Tynuakh and Akhnuty, 'Son of Gold' and 'Father's Gold.' It sounds good to the ears at least, as one would expect from our so refined language," finished Maratu in response to his brother Irmilan, as if such dialogue had been arranged. But it was perceptible that both shared a certain mental symbiosis, common among many twin brothers.
"It's true, noble brother. But without further flourishes, I know you are not from the royalty of the Kingdom of Onat, Santimar, but your bravery is nonetheless a characteristic common to nobles, even if your decision to confront someone so influential in the name of your… beloved? was somewhat immature. Do you know that she is also from a noble family? We know, after all, noble families from our kingdoms interact all the time. After all, it is the gold of Gopondir that adorns the candlesticks of the castles of Javatep. So many balls, so many galas, it gets tiresome. But what will her parents say when they find out that their prodigal daughter is dating a… commoner?" Irmilan implied that he knew the romance between the two was recent and seemed to want to purposely needle Santimar, expecting some more choleric reaction. Maratu positioned himself beside his brother, emphasizing his comments with jocular gestures.
Santimar, in turn, was already tired of what seemed to be an uninterrupted series of threats, challenges, and afflictions. But deep down, he sought wisdom. He remembered what he had to lose from what was to come; he couldn't waste his time on lesser problems. So he took a deep breath and responded with a calm and self-assured air.
"I already suspected Noara's noble lineage when I found out her father belonged to the Royal Cavalry of Javatep. You don't need to try to catch me off guard regarding that. But know that in my understanding, true nobility stems more from character than from status, for nobility in its utmost purity determines that a qualified noble should act first with nobility of heart, not of ostentation. Therefore, I may not be noble by birth truly, but I have always admired the real meaning of nobility itself. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for you two."
Noara, as always, had made a gesture to react to the insults, but upon hearing Santimar, she felt satisfied and now seemed to want to talk to him as soon as that discussion about her family was over.
The twin brothers didn't seem to have expected such a response, but what Santimar didn't expect was that instead of being disappointed, the brothers displayed sincere smiles on their faces, which left both him and Noara confused.
"Look at that, Santimar is not as simple-minded as we thought those not born of noble cradle were, my dear Irmilan," observed Maratu, still jocular.
"Not at all, my dear Maratu. It seems there is indeed cleverness on the outside of nobility," continued Irmilan, increasingly excited.
"Look, I see you're having a lot of fun with us, but could you stop this game once and for all and tell us what all this is about?" inquired Noara, already with little patience.
"Nothing much, my dear Noara, and at the same time, everything that matters now," the brothers responded alternately, finishing in unison what was said with more emphasis.
Santimar, who seemed more affected by what was said, suddenly became interested. He soon demonstrated a desire to know more; something in that conversation made him suspect that the brothers knew something about the prophecy.
"What exactly are you talking about? Do you know something we don't?" Santimar inquired loudly and clearly, but without sounding intimidating.
"Well, my noble who was born noble, you must already be suspecting what we're talking about. It's not because we are properly rich that we spend our days wasting our senses on piffling pleasures. We also like to read and meditate, wise Santimar, but above all, we like to investigate," replied Maratu in an ironic tone, but one could perceive the intention to reveal something more.
"That's right, my dear brother. Some say that yesterday's events exposed much more than just a bad omen, and perhaps today's as well," complemented Irmilan his brother's words.
"So much beating around the bush! I'm already getting dizzy from so many messages with double meanings! Do you think I look like a decoder?" interrupted Lacendir, who was already losing the thread.
"Oh, look, one of our subjects decided to join this quartet," ironized Maratu, denoting that Lacendir was indeed from the Kingdom of Gopondir.
"Whether I have your people's blood or not is water under the bridge now. My land is here now; I am from Tabulém," retorted Lacendir, not wanting to belittle himself.
"I see, but be careful, Lacendir. Those who forget their roots end up flying around without reaching an end, like your parents did," replied Irmilan without much subtlety.
"My parents must have known more of the world personally than you have known through your informants…" Lacendir retorted again, going straight to the point.
"Who knows… Look, noble brother, Santimar is not alone in all this sagacity without a golden cradle. It seems to me, after all, that we will have to try harder to unravel such contradictions," reflected Irmilan with the air of someone who discovered a new animal.
"Indeed, noble brother. Who would have imagined that those involved in the prophecy would not be members of the royalty, as would be the most elementary? With the exception of the elegant Noara, of course."
"So you know about the prophecy. It's no surprise, considering all the hints you've been dropping until now regarding the subject. What more do you know about it? Nothing too convoluted this time, please. I say this because if you live up to the name of the family you possess, it is to be expected that you know how to act with sincerity. It would be a shame to let my family think otherwise," inquired Noara more decisively, this time deciding to appeal to the prestige of the twins' family, betting that it was something they valued above all else.
"Certainly, madam… I see we have no more room for jokes." Noara's bet finally had an effect. They soon stopped the theatrics and began to speak more seriously, starting with Maratu, followed by Irmilan. "Yes, we know of the Prophecy of the Dawn. As we said before, we don't spend our money on frivolities unless we gain something more from it, like privileged information. We are adepts, after all. Knowing about the most controversial matters of the kingdoms is our preferred diversion, and this prophecy is not among the smallest controversies out there, not at all."
"How so? You mean you know about our role in this story after all?" asked Santimar without hiding his need to know more. The meeting that would deal precisely with this subject was about to begin, but if he could choose, Santimar didn't want to arrive at it as ignorant as he seemed to be. So he would feel much more at ease having at least some notion of what it was all about.
"That we cannot say with details," replied Irmilan with a truly sincere tone, to which Maratu completed, "Not at all. We only know a snippet of the prophecy that may not seem like much to the uninitiated, but it certainly gives us some clues. It says more or less like this:
'The fury that was interrupted
in the crystal now sleeps,
but its corrupted offspring
will give the sign that makes one tremble,
upon gazing at the champion of life.'"
Upon reciting the snippet of the prophecy, Maratu made a reflective pause, which Irmilan took advantage of to continue. "Considering what is said in this snippet, which we were advised to pay more attention to by those who assist us in this our… 'private investigation,' it possibly referring to the fateful episode of yesterday, it finally made it seem that you, Santimar, might be the mentioned champion. After all, weren't you the one who first sighted the Inciferus? Or rather, weren't you the one whom the Inciferus first sighted? We confess we don't know what this crystal is about, even having offered more… 'resources' to those who assisted us in this… 'research.' But 'its corrupted offspring' can only be an Inciferus, right?" concluded one of the blue-blooded brothers from the Kingdom of Gopondir, expecting an answer from Santimar with sincerity, and even with a more noble tone as they usually had with Order superiors.
Santimar, however, did not respond immediately, also because he didn't know what he was getting into with those two. They didn't seem the type to give information gratuitously. Besides, he found himself unprepared to absorb that information. Champion of life? It couldn't be him, could it? He didn't see himself as so different from the rest, but he couldn't help but deny the signs exposed there that seemed to link him to the recent events more profoundly than he wanted. Even so, his main focus at that moment seemed to be to distance himself from such immense responsibility.
"It may be so… as far as I know… it's understandable to think that I was indeed the one who first saw and was seen by that abominable creature we only knew from the codices as Inciferi… Considering how remote that region of the kivalos is, it's easy to imagine that there was no one else there besides us adepts… but what if there were? Another thing, what if that Inciferus wasn't the first sighted since the outcome of the first war? It's still too early to conclude something so important, at least that's what I think," replied Santimar cautiously. He was genuinely grateful for the information passed by the brothers but still didn't know if he could trust them. They possessed a very unpredictable behavior in his opinion, and the fact that they enjoyed playing with others' nerves also didn't inspire much familiarity in him. So he didn't want to talk about his conversations with Mirir-Roi on the subject, nor about his lucid dream with Vezad Dhir-Roi.
The brothers looked at each other at the end of Santimar's interpretation of the recent events. They seemed slightly dissatisfied but somewhat resigned, as in an act of self-reflection.
"Is that what you think? I see… Well, perhaps we should have treated you with more courtesy, Santimar. Who knows, you might have been more disposed towards us. But anyway, now it's no use wasting our precious time on fruitless divagations, especially because time is short for that. We also know that you, Lacendir, and Noara are going to participate in the meeting of the Order's Mages that will be shortly. Speaking of which, what a privilege for someone outside the royalty! Be that as it may… perhaps after the revelations that will certainly arise in it, you will have more firmness to answer our harmless questions for you. Thus we hope, isn't that right, my noble Irmilan?" said Maratu with the air of someone who hadn't been convinced at all by what Santimar had just said.
"Thus we hope, my noble Maratu. For as can be observed, Santimar himself seems to well understand that nobility obliges, and I believe that without further ado, he will also perceive that, despite all this performance of ours full of provocations and satires, our cause is also noble, just as is our house. But look, I believe our time has come; the illustrious Mage must be with you now," Irmilan responded, agreeing with his brother, giving to understand finally that they would like better explanations from Santimar in the not-so-distant future. Both looked at him with a certain respect in their gaze that wasn't so present before, without signs, however, that they would insist on this brief conversation that ended up generating more questions than answers, especially because they had both observed that Mirir-Roi was coming out of the kitchen in a more relaxed tone while talking with the already smiling Mage-cook who followed shortly after, even stopping behind the counter to try a bit of that soup he liked so much. His reappearance in the canteen right after the end of that conversation happened as if by coincidence, but coincidence wasn't something anyone there truly believed in.
Anyway, in light of this, when everything else was made clear, as much as possible in a timely manner, they gestured a farewell more common to the nobles of the Kingdom of Gopondir than to the Order they had been a part of for a little longer than Santimar, Noara, and Lacendir. Then they turned back ceremonially, with all the pomp that was already their trademark, towards their table of origin on that morning full of twists and turns. Santimar became confused again about the twin brothers; he trusted his own intuition a lot, but it seemed silenced in the face of the two. Were they allies or not?
"Talk about a hectic morning. The emergence of the Inciferus certainly caused unrest in almost the entire Order, and it seems to me that everyone wants a piece of you, Santimar. And now that we have at least a clue as to why, it becomes a bit clearer what motivated so much commotion around you," Lacendir finally analyzed, interrupting Santimar's introspection. This time, he employed a seriousness rarer in his statements than was habitual for him.
"True, Lacendir. I now find myself wondering if even the inspector didn't do what he did on purpose…" Santimar inquired openly to the others, who were now only the original quartet at the table.
"Well thought, my Warakol. That man didn't seem the type to waste time on matters he considered less important to his own purview… even if his own son was involved. He is too cold!" added Noara with affectionate airs towards her preferred adept but also showing that she was truly concerned about Santimar's future in the face of everything that was happening, between them and against them.
"Many challenges… little time… it tires a bit… but giving up is worse… forgiving is better… trusting is necessary…" Bartur concluded suddenly, causing an unexpected sensation in the others, as he demonstrated having captured everything that had transpired until then, proving once again that his apparent slowness was not synonymous with retardation. The others naturally already suspected this, so the surprise wasn't so great, except for the fact that they noticed Bartur was much more complacent than naive.
The group was so engrossed in their theories that they did not notice, however, that Mage Mirir was already behind them, observing them kindly.
"I see you are investing your precious time before the meeting with valuable inquiries… which pleases me very much, to know that you are taking the situation seriously. But before you rush to conclusions, I advise you to listen to everything that has to be said there. So it's better we get going, don't you think? It's almost time. Still in time, Bartur, I congratulate you on your gradual portions of wisdom. Continue like this, my dear Baradum, the gentle giant. It is no surprise to me that you are already so close not only to Warakol, the illuminated night, but also to Zakindo, the evening smile, and Purufilia, the stars of your sky…"
Noara and Lacendir were suddenly astonished. How did the Mage know that? Noara's nickname was usually only said by her three sisters, whom she missed so much, while Lacendir knew well that his parents were the only ones to call him that when he was still a child on their wandering journeys, as they often performed their musical shows here and there around the world.
"Do not feel so surprised, my dear adepts. How could I not know such gracious nicknames?"
Mirir-Roi gave a light laugh and then gestured for everyone to rise to follow him to the Hall of Masters. The three adepts said goodbye with light pats on Bartur's broad shoulders, who waved his hand all smiling, and headed for the canteen exit. The remaining adepts watched somewhat curiously but discreetly and respectfully, as was to be expected from Order members. Even the twin brothers acted with more parsimony in the presence of the Mage. Santimar, however, couldn't help but notice some slight murmurs at some tables of adepts. It was too low to actually hear what they were saying, but he could swear it was about them. Before, however, they left the refectory, Mirir-Roi turned to the rest of the adepts who were still there—which was everyone except two, since only Gerut had already left, and Nefuri, in turn, had been removed from there against his will by his father, an inspector who emanated very suspicious airs.
"Dear adepts, I know we have had a series of relevant and even sorrowful episodes from yesterday to today, but I ask that you remain faithful to your composure. I take this opportunity to inform you that still this day, around the seventh violet cycle in the afternoon, everyone here has been requested to be present for an official investigation regarding the recent reappearance of an Inciferus, albeit imperfect. So I recommend that you do not leave the city until then and that you be in the Order's main hall at the mentioned time. However, I also ask that you remain calm about this, for no one here will be considered a target of suspicions related to the case, as the Regional Inspector who was here a short time ago implied. I assure you it is a merely formal procedure with the intention of satisfying… 'emergency' criteria, both of our Order and of the Kingdom of Javatep. I believe with this that you will be understanding. Having said that, I bring you, as usual, a morning prayer." He silenced himself, and with that, a mystical silence imposed itself throughout the entire dormitory, which seemed to sense that the sacred would be mentioned. He then began a common prayer in Tabulém. "May the glorious God, with His eternal vigilance, bless us all on another day full of mysteries. Avihém."
"Avihém," said all the adepts present in response to Mage Mirir, including the Mage-cook, who already seemed more calm and perhaps relieved by the end of that meal. Avihém means in Ewahara the same as Amen here, which would be something closer to "so be it" in full.
With that, Mirir made a dispersal signal to the group of adepts who had not been called to the morning meeting, leaving them free to go about their daily tasks within Tabulém until the time of the formal investigation.