My professional opinion, having inspected the Sage's Barrier for the last three years at your request is: it is possible to recreate the Sage's Barrier, but it is an unrealistic endeavor.

Allow me to start by stating the resources we would need: roughly ten years’ worth of time, and easily a hundred Master Alchemists. Of course, I am aware there are currently fewer than sixty at time of writing.

I can already predict the complaint. Yes, the stories say the Great Sage Vareon created the Barrier while the Companions were being besieged at Heaven's Wake. You are correct that he did not rely on processed jade, and was limited to rudimentary techniques compared to the ones we have today. But while the Sage's Mirror cannot be replicated because it carries the Great Sage's aura, the Sage's Barrier cannot be replicated because of two things:

First, it has consistently metamorphosed over the centuries per the Sage's ForeSight, allowing for adaptation to the current times. The runes we see today are not the original runes the Great Sage laid down.

Second, while it is possible to reconstruct previous versions if you give me enough Master Alchemists and all the historical records of each year, we have no idea of the order in which the Great Sage laid down these runes. The ordering of layers has a drastic effect on the outcome when it comes to any work over forty two lines.

Now, to answer the pertinent question: the actual part of the Barrier we commonly think about is less than eighty lines long and can be created by just myself in a few months. But it would not be stable or sturdy, and I imagine my creation would fall apart when it faced an aberrant monster or if EarthShaker ever impacted the immediate area.

The true value of the Barrier is found in the hundreds of supporting lines, which I imagine even a Prodigy would find difficult to understand. I could not wrap my mind around the full complexity of the eight hundred and eighty-eight layers of runes. Do you have any inkling why the Great Sage would include thirteen lines for the movement of the tides when Klagynah is so far from the Deep Waters? Or how it could possibly be related to the number of newborns each season? I certainly have no clue.

This is critical, as whomever is unfortunate enough to oversee the recreation project would need to understand how each of these lines should be layered together in harmony. You once told me that even the Fallen Star Pavilion is never certain about the weather predictions despite being capable of consulting centuries of records. I hope you can begin to understand how humbling it is for us alchemists to realize our ForeSight is lacking compared to the Great Sage's, despite having a thousand years’ worth of additional knowledge and understanding of the world.

I predict you will insist. In which, Flangel the Wise could potentially oversee such a project. But I doubt the former Prodigy will want to, given his activities the past few decades. You will need to first convince him that recreating the Sage's Barrier will not result in any harm to people.

Which brings me to my last noteworthy discovery. There are several lines of runes where I suspect the Great Sage hid even more undiscovered secrets, as it is not clear to me what those lines are meant to accomplish despite three years of contemplating them. I would not be surprised if the Great Sage even predicted we would try to replicate his Barrier and added these lines to distract any observer.

Your colleague Scholar Rymann has put forth a theory that the Great Sage was on guard against someone trying to unravel the Barrier. Anything easily understood would be simple to undo or find a workaround. I confess it to be an interesting theory with a morbid premise: that someone on this side of the Barrier would actively try to weaken or destroy it.

Thankfully, some four hundred lines or so seem dedicated to maintaining the Barrier's intended functions. These lines are written in such a way that I imagine attempting to add, remove, or modify any lines would only result in the runes being reworked into the Barrier's pre-existing harmony.

Exactly how far ahead did the Great Sage predict with his ForeSight? We may never know.

— Note from Master Alchemist Fuyumi to Head Scholar ZuanBing

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The Inn

The inn turned out to be a large establishment, tucked three-quarters of the way through Heaven's Wake. Brighter Shores was its name, and one could tell that the owner Garyn delighted in the metaphor. The portly man had enthusiastically told each guest “Where the sand meets the water, see?” Not that Molam thought of the Central Valley as "water," but he could see how Oasians viewed it. For those who grew up in the Endless Sands, the Central Valley must have looked like paradise when they first beheld its verdant greenery, streams, rivers, and even lakes.

The mursashu entered from the side gate, removing the harnesses from the tired horses and leading them to the stables in Brighter Shores. Choji's mursasho provided reliable aid, rolling the wagons into an orderly line. Another mursasho, led by a sharp woman named Rovena, was laboring to unload the cargo. Molam heard mutterings about sand sleds and securing a requisite number of camels, and sending someone to the shops for travel provisions. Soon, their wagon was also parked, and the trio were ushered into a different line, where the innkeeper's wife distributed rooms for the night.

Merryn was a handsome-looking woman, whose deliberate gesticulating seemed designed to draw attention to the rings of jade decorating her ears and nose. Molam thought the performance unnecessary, for the white-green of the jade jewelry already stood out against her smooth, dark skin. Several hairpins made of the same material were threaded through her voluminous, curly black hair, dangling with bright silver spirals. The overall look made it hard to focus on her when she talked, though she was quick and meticulous when speaking to each mursashu as they shuffled forward to receive their room keys.

Molam and his two companions were the last to approach, and Merryn's demeanor changed as her eyes lit on Kalle. She let out an involuntary "Oh!", then covered it with a smooth "You're quite… far from home, aren't you? We haven't any beds for a Northerner…'s" she added the possessive hastily, "a Northerner's size. We don't have any, do we, Garyn? Garyn!"

Garyn walked in from outside, blinking at the brightly lit interior. Molam noticed the man's thick hair was neatly combed and his clothes pristine, with the exception of a bit of dirt on his hems and shoes. He must have taken great care to change and freshen up before the mursashu caravan arrived. "What's the matter, love?"

Merryn raised her eyebrows, then tilted her head towards Kalle. "We don't have a bed for a Northerner, do we?"

"I don't mind curling up," muttered Kalle, rubbing his head with his large hand.

"I'm speaking to my husband," Merryn replied, turning back to them with a forced smile. "Garyn, tell them you didn't prepare a bed for a Northerner's size."

"No," said the innkeeper slowly, then he blinked twice, and repeated it more forcefully. "No, I didn't." He looked at Molam and Primrose, then called loudly, "Mursa Shang, may we speak for a moment?"

Molam interjected gently, unwilling to be contentious. "It doesn't have to be a large bed, I'm sure. Just anything soft for Kalle to sleep on so he’s not stuck on the floor?"

"There's hay in the barn," suggested the innkeeper's wife. "He — Kalle, is it? — I'm sure he'll find it comfortable enough."

Molam found Primrose's arm in front of him before he could speak. She tilted her head towards the innkeeper's wife, then said sweetly, "you must be mistaken. We're specifically here to sleep in beds. If you put two beds side by side, I'm certain you could accommodate our friend."

"I am afraid we cannot, as we have a one room one bed policy," said Garyn softly.

"As I was saying," Kalle stressed, making himself heard. "I don't mind curling up."

Garyn stepped forward immediately, pointing a threatening finger as he looked up at Kalle. "Don't you dare raise your voice at my wife," the man hissed, then froze.

Primrose had grabbed his finger. In one smooth motion, she pulled herself closer to Garyn, draping a slow arm over his shoulder, her other hand coming to rest on the man’s neck. "While I'm still in the mood to work with you, I'd like for you to just hand us the room keys and let's all retire to our beds, yes?"

"Hello, Garyn, you called?" Mursa Shang had walked back into the foyer from his room. The man's black hair had been unbound, and his clothes seemed hastily thrown on. He frowned as he caught the last moments of Primrose letting a disheveled Garyn go and sliding back towards Kalle. "What's going on here?"

"We never discussed housing a Northerner," said Garyn, smoothing out his clothes. "I'm afraid I don't have any beds that could accommodate him."

Mursa Shang blinked, as though surprised by this knowledge. "But Garyn, Brighter Shores has always prided itself on being able to cater to our needs and deliver the best service. What's stopping you now?"

"Pride, of course," Garyn huffed, "in giving the best service. I can’t continue with that claim if I give someone a bed they won’t enjoy, now can I? It would bring dishonor to our reputation! If… if you had said something about needing this ahead of time, yes, we would have been able to get a custom-built bed. But as you did not, can you blame us for not wanting to provide subpar service?"

"That's strange. The bed in my room could certainly fit Kalle, so I guess you only have one?" Mursa Shang's frown deepened. "We've been traveling the entire day, and plan on leaving early tomorrow. Where do you suggest my friend sleep then?"

Merryn spoke up again. "The barn. We just received fresh hay, the children love diving through it."

"I see, I see. Thank you for the suggestion, Merryn," Mursa Shang bowed his head, then turned back to Garyn. "But you see, Garyn," the Mursa said gently, "I believe I paid for all of your delightful rooms, which are — if the ones I passed by were any indication, fully capable of housing my friend Kalle?"

"The money can be returned," Garyn replied, his voice equally low. "We'll return you enough for one room. Will that satisfy you?"

"Oh, but it could not," Mursa Shang stepped forward, putting a hand above his heart. "And leave me with the guilt of having cost you the opportunity to make money because a room went unused? I couldn't bear it! I'll tell you what — Garyn," he put a reassuring hand on the innkeeper's shoulder. "I'll use it."

The innkeeper reared his head away from Mursa Shang, but did not shake off the man's hand. "But…" he said slowly, as though trying to understand. "You already have a room."

"Ah, that's right." Mursa Shang looked over at them, then tossed a set of keys at Kalle. "Straight down the hall, Room One. The bed is too big for me regardless."

"Mursa Shang, this is improper!" protested Garyn, who was exchanging swift looks with his wife Merryn. "That room was reserved specifically for you!"

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"And I'm passing it to my friend."

"We're afraid that the larger bed in Room One was only built with size in mind, and… and it might not host the Northerner's weight," Merryn chimed in. "I wouldn't want a guest to become gravely injured because the bed collapses, now!"

"He'll be on top of a mattress," Primrose pointed out. "Probably a soft landing."

"You can't be certain," Merryn warned shrilly. "He might suffer back injuries, you know? And then where will our reputation be if we are found to be the ones at fault? Wagons and carts, now, they've made it so the younger generation doesn't understand the backbreaking work of carrying something heavy like water. Now, you think that a mattress is enough cushion, but then…"

A fiery plume winked into existence, silencing Merryn and causing everyone to take a step back in alarm. Molam stepped forward, clenching the space where the flames dissipated, internally grateful that Kalle's flametool worked as promised. He pulled his fist down and gave the innkeeper and his wife the flattest stare he could manage. In the ensuing quiet, Molam kept his voice soft and the message simple: "We can promise your establishment won't be held responsible if the bed breaks."

Merryn deflated, shrinking from his tone, but Garyn held a protective hand around his wife. "And if the bed breaks, we are out of a perfectly good, working bed!"

"I will happily fix it for you," Kalle offered.

Garyn tilted his head back, trying to look down his nose at Kalle despite the alchemist’s taller stature. "I think not," he said forcefully, "or I'd be forced to give a bed that's been supposedly 'fixed' by a Northerner to another patron. And when that inevitably breaks because of shoddy workmanship, then our reputation is ruined!"

Mursa Shang stepped in front of Molam and Primrose, grabbing Garyn's free hand and pressing three gold coins firmly into his palm. "A deposit, then," the Mursa insisted, closing Garyn's hand around the coins. "If the bed breaks, you may replace it."

Garyn seemed to struggle to pull his hand free of the Mursa's grip, but then Mursa Shang leaned forward and whispered forcefully, "this is my best offer, Garyn. You should take it while I'm negotiating for a friendly result. Do we… have an understanding?"

The innkeeper and his wife recoiled at the Mursa's silky tone. Garyn looked down, then his arm seemed to go limp. "The Northerner may have Room One."

"Excellent. And the rest of our rooms?"

Garyn looked at Merryn, who walked off, but not before throwing one last dirty look at Kalle. "I will get you your keys," the innkeeper grumbled, walking to the wall where various keys hung on hooks. He took down three, offering one to Mursa Shang and tossing the other two to Molam and Primrose without looking. "Breakfast is at daybreak in the main hall."

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Primrose separated from them with a swift nod, seemingly eager to reach the baths and unwind from the long journey. Molam watched her go, then turned his attention back to Kalle and Mursa Shang as they headed toward Room One. The door to the room stood ajar, already brightly lit with the soft glow of lanterns, casting a warm, inviting hue against the cool shadows of the hallway. The Mursa stepped inside first, his movements purposeful and fluid as he began picking up some of his personal effects scattered across the room, preparing to pass it on to Kalle.

He set down a small bundle of items before turning to Kalle and Molam with a measured look. “Good night to the both of you,” he said, his tone rich with sincerity. “I’m sorry you had to experience that, Kalle. Garyn and Merryn are normally quite agreeable. I didn’t expect they'd... hold onto certain sentiments.” There was an underlying tension in his voice, the subtle weight of regret lingering in his words.

"Thank you for your help, Mursa Shang," Kalle said respectfully, giving him a nod. His gaze remained steady, though there was a slight flicker of exhaustion in his eyes. "I don't blame you at all. It's not your fault for how others act."

Mursa Shang gave a short, thoughtful nod in return. "If anyone bothers you again, Kalle, just call for me and I'll deal with it." The Mursa hesitated, looking as though he wanted to say more. His attention lingered on Kalle for a moment, then he seemed to give an almost imperceptible shrug, and turned to Molam. he bowed his head, and said, "I pray God Yven sends the two of you sweet dreams. Molam, I will see you on the morrow."

With that, the Mursa quietly exited the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. Molam stood there for a moment, his mind turning over the brief exchange. He glanced over at Kalle, who was now methodically unrolling a bundle of clothes from his pack, carefully placing each item on a nearby chair. The room was spacious, fitting for someone of Mursa Shang’s stature. It was easily double the size of the other rooms Molam had seen in the inn, making space for a large desk with a pot of tea and several cups laid out next to parchment, ink, and a selection of quills and brushes.

Molam walked to the desk, and absent mindedly brushed his fingers over the paper. The stillness in the room stretched out, and for a moment, it felt as though neither of them knew what to say. He wanted to speak, to break the silence, but the words seemed to falter in his mind. What could he possibly say? How could he make it better, if at all? The quiet stretched longer than he had anticipated, each passing breath thick with an unspoken heaviness.

Just as Molam was about to pipe up with some half-formed sentence, Kalle began to hum quietly to himself. The sound was low and soothing, a simple melody that filled the room. It seemed like he was trying to relax, to ease some of the tension that had built up. The soft hum lingered in the air, and Molam found himself unsure whether it was meant to soothe him, or Kalle, or if it was just a subconscious habit of the alchemist’s.

Molam shifted slightly, not wanting to disrupt the momentary calm. But then, an uncomfortable thought struck him. Was he the only one painfully avoiding breaching the topic of what had just happened with the innkeeper?

Kalle had just discussed the situation with Mursa Shang, hadn't he? So why did Molam feel so hesitant to speak about it now? What could he possibly add to the conversation that wouldn’t just feel like another burden on an already heavy night?

Several possibilities ran through his mind, each one seeming less suitable than the last.

I'm sorry. Then what? Kalle had already stated that no one was at fault for how others behaved. Apologies would only draw attention to the discomfort, making it worse.

I shouldn't have brought you here. The thought stung with the sharp edge of guilt, but it was immediately countered by the realization that Kalle had chosen this path himself. He could have gone to Tarryn, after all. He had made a choice, one Molam hadn’t pressured him into.

I didn't know it would be this bad. A lie, and a clumsy one at that. Molam knew exactly what the situation here was like. Meera had warned him in the clearest terms. This shouldn't have been a surprise.

How are you feeling? And what exactly could he do with that information? Just listen? Did Kalle even want to share?

Molam glanced at Kalle again, whose humming had subsided into a quiet silence. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, his hands now folding clothes with practiced ease. Was he reflecting on the same things? Or was it simply Molam who couldn’t move past the discomfort? It was hard to say.

"Listen, Kalle. I… I can't stop the actions of others." Wait, this feels like I'm washing my hands of the problem. "I can only focus on the actions I can take, which is to ensure you aren't an easy target for those who would mistreat you like this. If I ever forget to look out for you, feel free to remind me if anything puts you in undue danger. I give you my word, I’ll do whatever I can to try to help protect you."

"It's fine," Kalle replied. "I don't blame you either. You've done nothing wrong." He said it as though the words themselves were a balm for whatever lingering awkwardness had settled between them. But even as Kalle spoke, Molam wasn’t sure he could entirely believe it.

"I should have been more aware of the likelihood of such a situation occurring," Molam asserted, his mind replaying the uncomfortable scene with Garyn and Merryn, wondering if there was something he could have done differently. "I should have had the ForeSight to tell you to put on a hood, or wait elsewhere while Primrose and I got your key. Then you wouldn't have been forced to cross paths with the innkeeper. I definitely could have prevented this if I had been more active in thinking about the problems here."

Kalle, in contrast to Molam’s rushing thoughts,, took his time to fluff up the pillow on the bed and carefully set it down, his hands steady but his posture a bit more slouched than usual. He let out a soft sigh as he sank into the task. "You know, you always speak… differently at times. Times like these," Kalle said, his voice low but carrying an undercurrent of contemplation. "The words and tone… as though you're so certain a solution will make me feel better. You always seem to have a plan, or a new idea, or something that you think will help. But this isn't a ForeSight issue. A single person can’t change centuries of cultural tensions, you know?"

Molam's knee-jerk instinct was to blurt out a snide remark towards Kalle’s hypocrisy in lecturing people about insisting on the necessity of a solution, but he held himself back. As he bit down the response, he felt the weight of Kalle's words settling into him. Kalle was right. His automatic response to nearly every situation was to move straight to a plan. It was second nature, taught to him by the spirit who mentored him.

However, that response didn't always help. Some things were beyond his control, beyond any foresight or plans. He thought about Kalle’s words and nodded slowly. "I know that. But if the situation can't be changed, isn't it up to us to determine how we act or respond to it?" His voice softened, aware that Kalle was already bearing the brunt of something he couldn't shield him from. "I… just want to help."

Kalle looked up at him, his expression a mix of understanding and exhaustion. "And the sentiment is appreciated. Very well received, in fact," he said, with a brief, rueful smile. "But I don't need you to hide me away." He pointed to the mottled scar running across his face. Even the most polite person couldn't hide the way their gaze flickered whenever they saw Kalle's scar for the first time. "I don't even hide this. It's fine. I expected it when I agreed to go to Oasis."

Molam's heart twisted at the sight of the scar, at the casual way Kalle referred to it as if it were just another part of him, something to accept. "It..." Molam hesitated, unsure of how to articulate his next thoughts. His gaze lingered on Kalle for a moment before he pushed on. "It will get worse in Oasis. Primrose and I will also experience it, given our lighter shades. I know that, I've been there. But it will be far worse for you."

Kalle’s gaze didn’t waver, his eyes steady as he met Molam’s. He seemed to understand, perhaps better than Molam wanted him to. "I know," Kalle said, the quiet certainty in his tone making Molam feel small, like all his concerns were little more than ripples in a much deeper water. "But what's a bit of discomfort if it means we can get what we need? Weren't you the one who told me to never forget the sight of our goal?" He paused for a beat, giving Molam a knowing glance. "And to do that, don’t you need jade?"

Molam blinked, taken aback by Kalle’s blunt reminder. "I mean, yes, but you still have a choice now. You can still–"

"Run to Tarryn?" Kalle interrupted, his voice light but with an edge of amusement. He waited in the heavy silence that followed, watching Molam carefully, then gave him a wink. "And leave you without an alchemist?" The teasing tone cut through the tension in the room, but Molam could hear the undercurrent of sincerity beneath it.

"I…" Molam opened his mouth, but no further words came. He had no response to that. He had known, in the back of his mind, that Kalle had already made his decision. There was no going back now, not unless Kalle chose to walk away, but that wasn't something he seemed inclined to do.

Kalle’s expression softened, the teasing fading into something quieter, more serious. "Molam," he said, his voice low, but still steady. "I’m not doing this because it’s easy. I’m doing it because we have a goal. Well, you do, and I'm just along for the ride because you need an alchemist. Okay, I didn't need to say it like that; we’re in this together. So I do trust you to get me out of sticky situations, good?"

Molam stared at him for a long moment, feeling a mix of admiration and guilt. He understood, at least, Kalle’s resolve. But determination often came at a price, and Molam didn't think he would be the one paying it. "I don’t want you to suffer," Molam murmured. "I just want to make sure we all make it through."

Kalle gave him another look, this time a knowing one, before he went back to adjusting his belongings. "We all make it through," he said quietly. "We will."

But it felt incomplete—no, it was anxiety-inducing for Molam to leave things hanging like this, unresolved and without a clear plan. The weight of the conversation had settled heavily in the room, and though Kalle seemed to brush it off, Molam couldn't help but feel that there was more to be said. His mind was racing, turning over every possible way he could help Kalle navigate the inevitable difficulties ahead, but no matter how many scenarios he ran through his head, nothing felt like enough. Nothing felt right. He didn’t want to simply sit back and let things unfold as they would; he needed to do something. Or situations worse than Garyn and Merryn would come up again, and then what?

Kalle must have sensed his restlessness, because he suddenly made a gesture to cut the tension. With a dramatic sigh, he pressed a finger to his lips and gave Molam a playful look. "Ah ah ah, I'm tired of this topic. Let's go sample some food," he suggested, his voice light again. "I'm hungry and if we keep talking it'll ruin my appetite."

They left Room One, following their noses to the main hall, where food had been set out by the inn. Merryn passed by them along the way, and the woman pretended to not be aware of them as they slid past each other.

Within the main hall, they found many of the mursashu settling in for a meal, their plates filled with a generous assortment of local dishes. Kalle and Molam joined, with Kalle clearly enjoying himself as he dug into the food with a gusto that was almost amusing in its contrast to his earlier composure. Molam, on the other hand, found it hard to focus on the food. His mind kept drifting back to the conversation, to the worry that still hovered in the corners of his thoughts. He could see Kalle eating, laughing now and again, but the problem never truly left Molam’s mind. It lingered like an itch he couldn't quite scratch.

But how could he change centuries of enmity to protect Kalle? He could barely even protect himself.

Jade first, he thought as he tried to sleep. The rest… we'll see.