A holy man who sins by eating outside the tenets of the faith is better than a robber who follows them completely.

  - The Human Question by Gideon de Salavia 378 A.C.

  This very moment had the feel of weighted destiny behind it. I knew it in the hollow places of my soul.

  The girl was most attractive, beautiful even. Her skin was a bit paler than the other Lazarians, likely because the sun had rarely graced her with its touch, and her long dark brown hair framed a comely oval face with doll-like features. For a moment, I compared her to my memories of Zariyah and found that she was nearly her equal. One arm rested on the chaise, supporting her chin, and her other hand lay on the curve of a shapely thigh. Her cream dress was cut low, and she wore this almost scandalous attire with royal pride. Her manner and poise unsettlingly combined youthful innocence with a striking and mature sensuality.

  Yet, this was not the most striking thing about her. Hers was the most curious and strangest of gazes. In her left eye, were two irises of crystal azur surrounding two small pupils, while her right was a completely different lush shade of emerald green altogether. This unusual combination of polycoria and heterochromia gave the beautiful Lady Aelayah an almost otherworldly aura. For the first time in living memory, I had difficulty meeting the eyes of another.

  She was like a piece of flawed art in living form.

  As I observed her, I thought to myself, If this is the leader of the once-great House, it's no wonder they've grown weak.

  Still, I knew it was wise to keep this particular opinion to myself.

  …I was taken aback at a memory repeating itself. As if this scene had been played out before, if subtly different in its presentation.

  The Necromancer knelt before the girl, dragging us down with him. He prostrated himself before her, touching his forehead to the marble floor.

  “Come now Vincenzio, there is no need for that…” exclaimed the Lady Aelayah in a tinkling voice that seemed to match the call of water around us. “Amusing though it is, I must insist that you stop. Oh, the traditional greeting, of course, may the eyes of the gods… and so forth and so forth! Finished! Done!” she smiled widely, displaying a perfect set of pearly teeth.

  I went down on one knee, my gaze focused completely on the strange leader of a great House of Al-Lazar. Strange and alien though her features were, there was something almost familiar about her.

  “And… I see you have brought company…” the girl observed. One of her handmaidens whispered something to her. “Ahh, Adventurers from the Guild. Most curious.”

  “The city has been less than peaceful of late, Lady Aelayah. One thought it prudent to bring an escort,” explained the Necromancer, lifting his face from the floor.

  “Yes, Alim has been dealing with the foreigners… talking of which... I see you have an elf… and a foreigner in your employ. Most ironic, considering the latest events. Where is he from I wonder, all these foreigners look alike,” she asked in a relaxed and casual manner. I almost expected her to purr like a cat.

  Gritting my teeth in pained silence, I tried to keep my expression neutral.

  “One does not believe you would know of it, my Lady Aelayah. It is a land far from here…” Vincenzio began to explain.

  “Shhh now, Vincenzio. Are you implying that my education has been lacking?” Lady Aelayah teased playfully. “Come now, tell him he can speak in my presence,” she pronounced. “This one has a rather strong look about him… a certain refreshing boldness.”

  The Lady picked up a small fruit from a golden bowl on the arm of the chaise, popping it in her mouth as she finished her sentence. She licked her lips almost sensuously.

  Before the Necromancer could answer for me, my words had already escaped from my lips. “You would not know of it, but know it is a place more civilized in manners than this one.”

  The young leader of Salahaem sat up and clapped her hands in curious delight. “I like this one… Where did you get him? And your other one too, do you have their contracts? I would love to…”

  “We are both free, in all senses of the word,” I explained tersely, cutting her off.

  Vincenzio shot me a look of shocked warning.

  The Lady Aelayah’s brow furrowed in consternation for a moment at my direct response. However, her annoyed expression was soon replaced with a dazzling smile.

  “Master Alchemist, please talk to my chamberlain about the potions we will be requesting. I believe we will be requiring a thousand or more delivered within the month… speak to Yousef about the details if you would,” she gestured with a casual hand to a reed-thin man, his clothes hanging about him like cloth caught in a tree branch after a storm. “Yousef, treat with Master Vincenzio if, you please,” she commanded with a vixen’s smile.

  “But…” Vincenzio started, caught completely offguard.

  “I would speak a while with your escort,” she insisted, her pleasant smile still fixed on her face.

  There was a tittering about the court as the gathered people whispered to one another.

  “As you will,” the Necromancer acquiesced reluctantly, turning around to give me another warning and pleading look before he was escorted outside.

  Now, Larynda and I felt the full force of her gaze upon us in turn.

  “Silver, for one so young would be a rarity? But then again, it is hard to tell the age of one of your kind,” commented Lady Aelayah, her words spoken sweetly, her barbs well hidden.

  “Age was never a measure of skill,” replied Larynda, fixing her eyes momentarily with Lady Aelayah’s before looking away.

  “So it is, so it is,” she conceded. “Still, a rarity nonetheless. And you… what are your names, adventurers of the Silver and Copper?”

  “Name’s Larynda, your ladyship. And…”

  “Gilgamesh,” came my flat statement of a reply.

  She looked at Larynda with a predator’s stare. “A beautiful name. It means victory, I believe. But a victory against what or who, I wonder. And, Gilgamesh, that is indeed a strange name. Curious,” she continued, leaning forward. One of her servants offered her another mouthful of fruit which she accepted.

  “There can only be one reason why you tagged along with Vincenzio. He thinks himself a master of deception but his lies are too easy to discern by far…” Lady Aelayah commented with a small laugh, resting a delicate finger just under her lips.

  This drew a somewhat forced laugh from the gathered people of the Salahaem court.

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  She raised a hand, silencing them. “You wish to enter my service? To serve the glory of Salahaem? That is what your sort always wishes for, is it not? But why should I indulge you?” she questioned.

  “I will dance around my intent no longer,” I half-growled, standing up. “I have heard that Salahaem is looking for someone to represent them at the Festival. I am one of the most powerful warriors that has ever walked your world… and as for Larynda, she is more talented than all of the mages of Quas combined,” I exaggerated for effect, drawing a proud smile from the half-elf.

  Now, Lady Aelayah laughed, truly laughed, her musical voice ringing around the room like the tinkling of a bell.

  “Forgive me,” she said, tapping her chest lightly in mirth. “It has been many moons since such a bold claim has been made! To think a mere Copper would claim such… and a boy that is barely a man…”

  “A man’s skill and talent are not defined by the badge he wears at his breast. Nor is his manhood,” I countered.

  “But they can be measured by it. Fear not, I will take you in as a jester at least if you are looking for quick employ…” offered the Lady Aelayah, covering her mouth.

  I looked around the room searching for a target. A man clad in scale armor with a jeweled sword at his hip was fuming at me. Perhaps ten years my senior, he glared at me for my rudeness, fuming with controlled rage. He would do.

  “I can best anyone you would pit me against… how about that pathetic creature over there. I do believe he is in love with me by his ardent stare,” I boasted, sure that he would make for an easy target.

  Again Aelayah laughed, a most pleasing sound that I found myself wanting to hear more of despite myself.

  “Farzan is captain of my guard… a fine warrior by any count. But you, my foreign sir, claim that you can best anyone? As for the Festival, we already have one that will represent our most esteemed House.”

  “My Lady Aelayah, do allow me the honor of teaching this…” offered Farzan in a halting voice, only to be soon cut off.

  “Ruyi Jien!” called out the Lady Aelayah.

  An older man stepped out from the crowd, his eyes hard and the color of battleforged steel. He bowed the Lady Aelayah, who in turn graced him with a delicate nod. For an inexplicable reason, I felt a spike of wanton jealousy in my heart. Throughout this exchange my eyes never left the Lady’s, drawn as I was to the exquisite curve of her neck and the subtle tilt of her alien eyes.

  Finally, I took in the sight of Ruyi Jien and found him, too, lacking. He wore a white, open cross-collar shirt or tunic with silver buttons and loose blue trousers that flowed down his legs. At his waist hung a curved sword, the Mark of the Mantis etched on its scabbard.

  I felt irritation creeping up on me almost immediately.

  "The Festival has always been one of unarmed combat… Master Jien… or is it Master Ruyi? A warrior-poet from the Land of Streams. You wear the Mantis Mark, but are you skilled in…"

  "Ruyi, if it pleases you, Lady Aelayah," he explained, his tone calm, almost patronizing. "After many years on my path, I have become one with the sword itself. I am equally skilled in the Wurenshu, the bladeless arts."

  One with the sword itself, my left foot!

  His claim was so absurd that I couldn’t help but burst into laughter, my mirth echoing rudely through the hall. All eyes turned to me, aghast. Larynda gave me a supportive wink as she bit down on her lower lip.

  When I finally regained control, I met Jien’s now fuming gaze with utter disdain.

  "You are not worthy of the Mantis," I said slowly as if speaking to one vastly my inferior.

  "Youth and their bold claims. My confidence comes from practice, skill, and deep contemplation," he began, but I cut him off.

  "And mine is born from talent, raw power, and a destiny beyond your ken," I replied viciously. “Oh, I am sure you have spent most of your pathetic life trying to master the blade. Let me show you just how much of it you have wasted. Hard work has ever been a poor substitute for real talent.”

  "I will suffer this insolence no longer. You amuse me no more. Master Ruyi, teach this boy a lesson," demanded Lady Aelayah firmly.

  "As you command," he replied.

  With the suddenness of quicksilver lightning, Jien launched himself at me, his speed belying his years. He drew his blade in a fluid motion, a gleaming arc of steel aimed at my neck. It was Cutting the Trees, a form that Fen had been particularly fond of. Or at least, a pale imitation of it.

  In turn, I drew the dagger at my waist, intercepting his blade with a shower of sparks and halting it completely.

  "Pathetic… too slow, old man," I mocked, relishing the surprise in his widening eyes as he disengaged, jumping back. "Shall I teach you how it’s really done?"

  A heavy silence settled over the hall, broken only by the gentle murmur of water from the fountains.

  "As I said, you are not worthy of the Mantis. My Mark—I bear it upon my soul," I declared with a grin and a hearty laugh. "Put that sword down; you’re an insult to everything it stands for."

  "Enough," Lady Aelayah commanded, her voice firm and commanding. It carried through the hall effortlessly.

  I maintained my insolent smile.

  "That was unexpected… How ever will I settle this?" she asked calmly, though I detected a slight catch in her voice—a hint of an emotion I knew well: hesitant fear.

  "With no weapons allowed at the Festival, I believe you should settle this with fists and feet?" she offered.

  "Whatever," I replied with a shrug and a smug grin.

  "Very well then, it's settled. After lunch, we shall all meet in the gardens for a most enjoyable display of martial prowess. I, and I am sure, the rest of us gathered here today, can hardly wait," she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

  The warrior-poet sheathed his sword and bowed to her, and, against all reason, bowed to me.

  She stood up, adjusted her dress, and sashayed out of the great hall. My eyes were drawn to the sway of her hips as she left. I couldn’t resist giving her captain of the guard, Farzan, a wink as she disappeared from view.

  *****

  Larynda, Vincenzio, and I were served a luxurious lunch in an opulent private room in one of the palace wings. The spread before us was almost a work of art: a vegetable carved into the shape of a swan, patterns of meat and fish arranged in colorful, concentric circles—truly a chef’s masterpiece. It was not only visually stunning but also a delight to the taste buds. Every bite was a subtle blend of flavor, texture, and hot spice. A true culinary experience.

  Despite the quality of the meal, the Necromancer maintained a grumpy air about him. He picked at his food and warned, "You overstepped the bounds of propriety. One does not speak to a scion of a great House in such a manner… let alone its head. Do not think that Aelayah is merely a simple girl. It could be the death of you."

  “She seemed alright to me,” Larynda commented, spearing a portion of fish with her fork.

  “That’s because everything seems alright to you, Larynda," Vincenzio remarked with a fair dollop of sarcasm. "You have been blessed with such optimism and a sunny disposition that even a bloody war, followed by famine, would be just another challenge to overcome with a whistle and a tune for you." Though his words were sharp, they lacked real venom.

  I had a feeling that this exchange had played out many times before.

  "They put me up against some rude old fellow, Rio John or something like that. He came at me with a sword, but I taught him a thing or two. Don’t worry—after lunch, they’ll have no choice but to offer me a position in their service. I will gut him like a fish with my bare hands if I have to."

  "Yeah, Gil’s right. What’s the problem, Vince?" Larynda asked between bites, barely seeming to savor the meal.

  "Oh, one is sure that would have been the case," Vincenzio replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But Gilgamesh here has all but challenged the might and authority of the Lady Aelayah’s House. That oh-so-wise warrior-poet from the Land of Streams might have been easy for our boy, yes. But, consider this, Aelayah probably had no intention of doing well in the Festival to begin with. But now, thanks to Gil’s words and attitude, his very presence here has become a challenge against the Salahaem. Do not underestimate the pride of these people! As sure as night follows day, his opponent won’t be that Ryu-whatever fellow!" the Necromancer predicted, his voice growing more shrill with every sentence.

  "You worry like an old woman, Vincenzio. No matter who they put against me, I’ll win. Have some faith," I chuckled, enjoying his consternation.

  Vincenzio set his cutlery down and looked me squarely in the eyes, his voice turning serious. "Don’t think you’re the only one who’s spent time in Dream. The great Houses of Al-Lazar are known for producing Sleepers—warriors of great renown who have communed with the spirits of their ancestors. Their skill and strength have been passed down through generations, honed to a razor’s edge. The Dervishes of the Dust, the Sleepers of Al-Lazar, are the true reason the city has stood strong for millennia."

  "Were any of them better than Fen?” I asked casually, drinking watered wine from a silvered chalice.

  The Necromancer shook his head in response.

  “Then don’t be so dramatic, and let us enjoy this fine meal! Again, have some faith," I smiled jovially, patting his shoulder. “I am sure I will get a lot of experience.”

  As if in agreement, Larynda slurped down another bowl of soup.