By the time Ishad returned from his meeting with the Augrave, Mai had found out, from Broken, that the rooms the three of them had been given were right next to each other, and were more or less identical.

When Ishad returned, he found Mai and Broken waiting for him, in Broken’s room.

“How was it?” asked Mai.

“Nothing much,” said Ishad. “Quite literally.” There was a chair in Broken’s room, near the wall, so he grabbed it, moved it to the center of the room, and sat down, so that he was better able to face Mai and Broken, both sitting on the edge of the bed.

Ishad continued. “It was exactly like what Talil had said. The Augrave met me in his chambers, told me I was a quandary, and sent me away. It was odd. So, when do we leave?”

Broken wasn’t thrown by Ishad’s continued involvement, as Mai had just a few minutes ago filled him in on Ishad’s insistence to help.

“As I mentioned before we arrived here,” said Broken, “in order to reach Asan Paril as quickly as possible, we must journey across the Vedlin Fields.”

“The Asan River runs right by the Holy Citadel, and leads to Asan Paril, at its mouth,” said Ishad. “Wouldn’t it be more expedient to take a ship?”

“I have already thought about that,” said Broken. “Taking a ship would not be a good idea, because ships stop in ports of call.”

“What’s wrong with that?” asked Ishad.

“The Makini incursion to the Holy Citadel had two goals, as I mentioned. It may have failed in killing us, but it succeeded in reducing the morale of the Vedil. If something like this could happen, it could happen again, Vedil commoners will think. And because of this, the Makini will capitalize on the moment. Right now, the Makini armies are doing nothing but consolidating outlying Vedil land into their nation. Soon, I believe, they will strike into the Vedil heartlands. And the Vedlin Fields is the heartlands of the Vedil.”

“You think we will travel onto what will become a battlefield,” said Mai.

“Yes,” answered Broken. “With us upon it. If we took a ship, before long, the ship would turn around, or eject its passengers, or abort its voyage. Or perhaps the Makini would take it.

“We must be cautious. In this, the last leg of the journey, it will be easy to believe that all is won, just before all fleets away.”

“Are we all in?” asked Ishad.

“Of course we are,” said Mai. She looked at Broken.

“Where my lady goes, I will follow,” he said. “Ishad’s camp was taken apart on the orders of Priest-Lord Ralad, and his horse, Stride is waiting for us in the tower stables, along with Aruith and Swift. In other places in the tower is everything we had in the Penitent Sage, and everything we have that we brought here, along with more supplies. Priest-Lord Ralad is a thorough man. However, we are expected to leave in the morning.”

“And so we shall,” said Mai. “There’s no reason to stay.”

The three went to their separate rooms. Nothing interesting happened that night, nothing at all.

In the morning, just as Broken had said, everything was ready for them to leave. A week’s worth of supplies for the three of them were packed, and Broken’s armor was returned to him, stitched up as new.

When they went to the stables, a pair of servants helped get their horses ready. “I hear you were out on the streets, during that Casari night of fire,” said one.

It was odd to hear the name Casari used as a curse now, reflected Mai, though often it was. The way Broken had introduced himself all that time ago made her more conscious of the demon’s name in conversation.

“We were,” Mai said, replying to the servant’s statement.

“Well, we are glad you were able to survive the night, lady,” said the other servant, helping her up onto Swift. When she got on the horse, the two men went to help Ishad and Broken.

Mai reflected once more, thinking about how her survival that night in the Holy Citadel had really been in doubt.

Then they were off. She, Ishad, and Broken rode from the Vedil Tower, and then from the Holy Citadel. As they slowly trotted their horses through the streets, Mai gazed at the destruction all around her. While the Tower, and everything else on the plaza had been left alone, the main part of the city seemed in horrible shape.

Eton had been methodical in his destruction. While each of the many fires had been contained in short order, there was no sector of the city save the plaza untouched. There was no street that could be walked on, without seeing the blasted and charred remains of a building.

The fact that it was the day made it all the more disturbing. What Mai saw seemed to prove that nightmares were real. She understood what Broken had meant, when he had said that the Makini would rush to invade after burning the Holy Citadel. What Mai saw, temples charred and black, was much more a psychological blow than anything else.

But the blow was still incredibly powerful. Seeing what she saw now, after knowing what the Holy Citadel had looked like before the fires made Mai mournful and sad, and she was no Vedil.

A Vedil would probably see this as a destruction of what was held most dear. The city was called the Holy Citadel for a reason. It was the center of Vedil faith, the center of all faith, and the fact that the city was under Vedil control Mai knew was always the crowning source of pride for the people of that House. Vedil always tended to be more religious than most.

Mai didn’t understand how anyone could have ordered such a destruction. The Holy Citadel was not just for the Vedil. The city’s temples were for all.

Mai had witnessed the destruction of the Occluded City, but from a distance, and only in a few fleeting glances. She had left that place in a carriage with its windows closed off. Here, she was right in front of all that had gone wrong. Mai felt pained, pained because she was reminded that she had no idea what the Occluded City had come to. Then, she had not had the courage to look.

But then, Broken took the lead, and increased his pace, making Ishad and Mai also increase their speed. They traveled out of the city gate, and then turned and began to travel in the opposite direction of the forest. In the new direction, Mai found luscious farmlands. The group rode through the beautiful landscape until the Holy Citadel was but a blot in the distance, and then, only a memory. It was hard to believe that a House with lands this beautiful could have a capital so scarred.

Regardless, however, Mai was glad to be out of the city. The fresh air did wonders for her. Here she could put what had happened in the Holy Citadel behind her, and look for a brighter tomorrow.

Broken’s words hung over her head, that war would come here soon enough, but at the moment, that was hard to believe.

The silent riding gave Mai a chance to think, and she realized how much she had changed since she had left the Occluded City. She was no longer as naïve. She was sure she had not witnessed the worst the world had to offer, but she had seen and endured terrible things nonetheless. And, in an odd way, those terrible things had strengthened her.

She no longer judged on sight. Broken, a commoner, and Ishad, of the merchant class, had both proven to be loyal and courageous many times over. In short, they possessed the qualities that only nobles were supposed to have.

Mai rode on.

The three of them camped that night, when it got dark, in the outskirts of a field belonging to some farmer or another. The farmhouse could been seen as only a small wedge in the difference, but, to avoid being seen, they lit no fire, and only ate cold rations. The grass around them was thick, and a few feet high, so when they settled the horses again, secured them, and lay down, Mai had the sensation as if she, Ishad, and Broken were giants in a forest.

Broken walked away, saying he had to go and spy on the occupants of the farmhouse. That left Mai and Ishad alone.

“You okay?” he asked her.

“I’m wonderful.”

“Don’t start picking up the ambiguous comments from Broken, now.”

Mai smiled. “What I said wasn’t sarcastic. Well, I guess it was a little, but really, I’m happy.”

“Why?” asked Ishad.

“Because for the first time in a long while, I feel like I actually know what’s going on.”

“Why don’t you tell me how you left the Occluded City, and how you met Broken?” asked Ishad.

“They happened at the same time,” said Mai. And she elaborated, as Ishad listened carefully. Mai told the whole story as best she could.

“So you really don’t know who Broken is,” said Ishad when they were done. “Nor do you know why he took a month long detour at a farm in the middle of nowhere.”

“I guess,” said Mai.

“I thought he had been your bodyguard for a long time,” said Ishad, “considering the unorthodox way he treats you.”

“No,” said Mai. She heard concern in Ishad’s voice, concern she hadn’t realized until now was necessary. Broken had told her bits and pieces of his life, but in such a way that they really couldn’t be put together. Broken knew everything there was to know about Mai and Ishad, but they knew next to nothing about him.

“When you first joined up with our group,” said Mai, “Broken said that he had convinced you that he was a friend of your order. What did he say?”

“He told me some codes,” said Ishad. “Monk codes, known only by those who are both good and able to take those words with them to their graves. I thought that in his time as your bodyguard, he would have been taught the codes. Now, I have no idea where he could have learned them. Commoner warriors don’t get told things like that, I guarantee it.”

“Ishad?” asked Mai. “Your talent, recognizing the lands where people grew up by the sounds of their voices, what does it tell you about where Broken was raised?”

“That’s the strangest thing,” said Ishad. “Broken speaks differently than most. He fluctuates, so when he was talking to me when we met, I thought he was Amzu. When he talks to you, he sounds Tachen.”

“Do you have similar problems with other people, on occasion?” Mai asked.

“No,” said Ishad. “Only with Broken.”

And then, Broken sat down next to them, suddenly and silently back from his excursion. Instead of pretending that Broken had no idea what they were talking about, Mai asked him point blank, “Where were you raised?”

Broken didn’t seem taken aback, but then, he never did. “I learned all I know now in a great many places,” he said. “The farmers whose lands we are sitting on seem normal, and unlikely to discover us. We can train.”

And so he and Mai did. Broken somehow remembered exactly where he had left off with her lessons. When Ishad expressed interest, Broken taught him a little as well.

All seemed normal, or at least as normal as things could be, until Broken withdrew his sword from his sheath, to demonstrate something.

The sword was different. Mai hadn’t noticed before, because the sheath was still the same, but when it was drawn, even a fool would not recognize it for Aurasing. The sword’s guard, instead of being shaped oval, was now a more modern crossguard. The blade didn’t have the same sort of gleam as Aurasing, and the writing on the weapon was gone. There were no more High Tongue runes. The sword just looked typical, one that any soldier marching off to war could carry.

“What happened to your real sword, Broken?” Mai asked, abandoning her fighting stance.

“I traded it away,” said Broken. Then he told her of Priest-Lord Ralad wanting to speak with her, and him giving the sword away just to prevent that.

“That sword was worth more than a few minutes of my time!” said Mai, confused as to why Broken would have ever proposed such a deal.

Ishad started to walk over, but Broken ignored the new arrival. “Perhaps,” he said. “But what was at stake was far more than a short, pleasant conversation. I spoke to him in an interrogation room. He would have sucked you dry. Priest-Lord Ralad might be a noble man, but he was not going to let you go, without seeing exactly where you stood on each and every issue. I offered him the only thing I could that might dissuade him, and it did. Otherwise, you still might be speaking to him, right now.”

“There’s no way that can be true,” said Mai.

“Aurasing was my greatest possession,” said Broken. “But you are more important to me than any possession.”

Broken let those words hang in that air a bit, as no others jumped in to fill the void.

Finally, he spoke again. “This lesson is over.” He shoved the lesser sword into Aurasing’s sheath. “Let’s get to sleep.”

And so they did.

“Hello,” said the Nari.

Mai knew she was dreaming, she felt as much, but there was nothing she could do to wake, even as a Nari, adorned in Ishad’s onetime monk cloak, advanced through a shifting sea of tall grasses, grasses twenty feet high.

“I’m dreaming,” said Mai, as if saying as much would help her.

“Right you are,” replied the Nari, in a manner that was reminiscent of how Ishad spoke. No, the words sounded exactly the same. There was no hissing, just a human voice coming from such foul lips.

A moment later, he turned into an exact replica of Ishad, but he still wore the monk cloak. “But what can you do about it?” asked the former Nari.

Mai turned around, and Eton was right there, in the tall grass. He took out one of his vials, filled with red. “He’s gonna show you this,” said Eton, shaking the vial in a hand. Then he and the vial were suddenly gone.

Mai turned around again, and the Nari in Ishad’s monk robes was back. “What are you thinking?” it asked her. “Say something.”

“Help me…” Mai found the courage to mutter.

“No one’s going to help you,” said the Nari, suddenly so much closer, right up until it was almost against Mai’s face. Its height was so much more evident now, so Mai had to crane her head upwards to look at it.

“Actually,” said the Nari, stepping back, “some will help you. But I will show you your destiny.”

The forest of tall grasses was gone, and Mai found herself standing on darkness. All around her was black, but Mai could see both herself and what she wore perfectly.

Then, two men walked out of the darkness, both hooded as specters of death, as executioners.

“I’m sorry!” Mai felt compelled to shout. “It’s just…I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.”

Then the two men were suddenly so much closer, and each one grabbed one of her arms tightly.

“This may be the last leg of the journey,” said the one holding her left arm, through his hood. He spoke in Broken’s voice. “But…this last leg is long, and fraught with peril.”

“This will happen,” said the executioner to the right, in Ishad’s voice. “Perhaps not exactly like this, but this will happen.”

Suddenly, there was a bucket of water on a table in front of her, and the two executioners thrust her head into it. As Mai struggled to hold her breath, she saw a golden crown shimmer into existence in the bright blue water, and then melt away. Then the Nari’s head appeared.

“All this is avoidable,” it said, “If only you run and hide. We don’t need you dead; we just need you out of the picture. You are not the one who has been chosen to succeed the Arathou Dynasty.”

When Mai’s lungs felt as if they could take no more, the two men in black suddenly pulled her head out of the water. The Nari head in the bucket disappeared, and a full Nari walked out of the darkness, still cloaked in Ishad’s robes. It walked forward, knocked the bucket off the table, and rested its clawed hands upon the cleared surface.

“Remember what Broken made you do,” said the Nari. “You were a farmer girl once, and you can do it again. That choice is more preferable than death, I believe. Run, and never be Maiako as Arathou del Sarathorn again.”

“Sarathorn?” Mai asked. “I was never Sarathorn. I am Tachen.”

“You became Sarathorn when you snubbed your nose at the Codes of Sara,” said the Nari. For a brief moment, the snake sounded like one of Mai’s etiquette instructors, back at the Occluded City, but by the end of the sentence, the resemblance was gone, replaced by the Nari’s typical hissing speech.

“If you prefer, Maiako as Arathou del Tachen, so be it,” said the snake. “But your name can be neither. Run and hide little girl, else your friends will betray you.”

As Mai twisted her head from side to side, she saw the two executioners that held her pull away their masks. They were Broken and Ishad, respectively.

“To stop this, find a farm, little girl,” said the Nari. “Choose a new name, and settle down on that farm. Or else you will die.” It disappeared.

Broken and Ishad swung Mai around to face them.

“What are you doing?” she asked, as they thrust her to the ground, and advanced. Mai appealed to Broken first. “You swore to protect me!”

“There are greater things that need protecting,” said Broken. With Ishad, he got on his knees, and reached at Mai, who lay on her back on the black ground.

“Ishad!” Mai cried. “You love me!”

“There are things more important than love,” said Ishad, his hands, with Broken’s, reaching for her neck.

“Duty,” Broken and Ishad said together

Then there was a flash, and Mai was falling, falling through white. “And remember this,” said the Nari’s voice, though Mai could not see it. “So you know what you dreamed is true.”

Suddenly, above Mai, Eton was falling as well. He took out a little vial of red liquid, and showed it to her, smiling.

“This is important, my dear,” he said. “This will be mentioned.”

Suddenly, Mai was awake.

Looking around her, and seeing that Ishad and Broken were preparing the horses, Mai got up from the ground, squinting at the morning sun.

“I have to tell you something important,” she said to them.

“It will have to wait,” said Broken, gesturing across the field. Three farmers were running at them from across the farmland, shouting things impossible to hear because of the distance, and trying to reach the trespassers before they got away. “We must go now,” Broken clarified.

Mai mounted Swift, and, and at Broken’s lead, began to ride out of the farmland. She wasn’t sure what the three of them had done to make the farmers so angry, but she didn’t want to be around when they reached the erstwhile camp.

Mai’s Swift, Broken’s Aruith, and Ishad’s Stride easily outpaced the three farmers on foot. In short order, the farmers were left in the distance, and the three travelers reached the main road.

As they continued to ride, Mai hoped the three farmers didn’t get out their own horses to pursue, but, as they continued to ride, with only normal traffic on the road, Mai realized that fear was unfounded.

As Aruith beat the pace for the other two horses and their riders, Mai found her desire to share the dream slowly begin to fade, as did her feeling of its importance.

It’s nothing, she told herself. I had another dream involving Nari and warnings before, and nothing came of it.

But this new dream seemed more vivid, and a counter to Mai’s thought surfaced. I haven’t reached Asan Paril yet, and that’s where the dreams say the horror will arise. Not until I reach that city safely will the dreams be proven untrue.

Convincing herself, Mai resolved to talk about the dreams to Ishad and Broken.

Soon.