And Yet, Does It Not Go Against Plain Observation To Presume The Western Lake Younger Because More Petite?
Stadeskosken set out the next morning to resume its journey along the banks of the Meggi Tem, or as it was known in Yean Defiafi, the Meggi Tem. The Adabans hustled along at their best possible speed, such as it was, past the extensive waterworks of that affluent, organized country and its villages of great individual character. Sometimes, for instance, the square was placed on the edge of the village, and only occasionally was it a square. Convention meant nothing to the brazen Survyais.
The convoy rolled into Dolbaskei in the afternoon, which disappointed the Adabans by having a normal name. “Baskei's,” it indicated. The name had a historical basis, as the town had grown up around a combination of stables, inn, river quay, and temple to Senbeg all owned by a fellow known as Baskei.
“But this implies temples are privately owned here. Is it so?” Emmeg Bolsatoken sought confirmation through a translator and, receiving it, decided to research the matter to sufficient depth for a quick travelogue entry. She had time, since Silapobenk Rikelta called a halt for the day based on the projected inability of the trade mission to reach a town equal to Dolbaskei as far as quantity of available temporary accommodations, their quality, and their price. The next day his people were to pick up and leave the Meggi Tem at last to take a straight course toward Akkagafwarrefo on the banks of the Younger Sister Lake. The Adabans were pleased to learn that akkagafwarrefo translated to “let's go swimming,” which was the sort of silliness they liked foreigners to provide them.
Given a half-day off, employees drifted off to find sights to see and subsequently see them. Many followed Millim Takki Atsa and her personal interpreter, Dirant Rikelta, to investigate the rumored distortion zone. A rumor, the investigation revealed, spread by the managers of an exhibition of startling and unsettling phenomena for the interested visitor. A bottomless pit (please do not drop anything in it), animals that possessed the amazing ability to talk when a ventriloquist was around, and someone who could remember any statement perfectly, even if said in a language not known by her.
“That's just so disappointing,” Takki lamented. “Semka will like one of those artificial flower bracelets though, won't she? Oh, you've never met my sister. She doesn't like metal jewelry. Hey Ressi, why don't you buy us some of those sausages?”
“They ought to be breaded. And aside from that, is it reasonable to phrase an unmistakable command as an opportunity for a debate?”
Takki took to her tiptoes for maximum tallness. “'I question the idea that anything in this world is the slightest bit reasonable.'”
“Was that an imitation of me? I don't remember saying precisely that, but it does reflect a sentiment I sometimes try to suppress. I must therefore submit.”
After that defeat, Dirant soon faced another when Takki said, “Is there anything else for us to do here? If not, go find us a mystery.”
To that he answered, saddened to disappoint but not overly so, “Despite what our time together may have led us both to imagine, I'm unable to come up with an adventure on command.”
“Certainly so, as level 11 is the earliest time my precious Ritualists may receive the ability most relevant to the request, and by that you are correct to infer I trust you to turn a simple mission into a tangle, which ability furthermore is optional and therefore not to be acquired without effort.” Holzd said that and went back to salting his sausage.
“It has come to my attention that I may be capable of such a thing starting at level 11,” Dirant said before he composed a silent prayer. “Many-plotting Holzd, my gratitude is yours for telling me about upcoming abilities for all that I hope not to be dumb enough to use them.” Holzd reached one long arm over and patted his priest's head.
Akkagafwarrefo abutted the western of the two great lakes which gave Yean Defiafi its name and most of its fish. While not so splendid as Asajvridz, it sprawled farther over the land and seemingly over the water as well because of dozens of boats, many of such a size that the Adabans expected to see their like only in paintings of seas and oceans. Far out in the distance, those vessels combined with more from other towns to form a megalopolis floating on the grain-free fields.
Only a couple days away from the capital, the Stadeskosken employees felt the imminent end of their journey that had the aspect of a vacation despite all the box-moving and smiling salesmanship they were required to perform. Every map they tried to consult concurred that they had a trip of almost two weeks back to Fennizen ahead of them, one comparatively free from labor, but they knew already that would feel like a return to the office rather than travel abroad. Moreover, Silapobenk Rikelta would attempt to rush them even faster once the convoy no longer needed to stay in certain locations during certain market periods. Many rented boats or went swimming as the town's name suggested to be able to say to their friends and family back home they had conquered the largest lake on the continent, the one next to it excepted, and that one in Chtrebliseu, and maybe Etimastizen in Beriskirofen.
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“Etimastizen is smaller,” Silapobezor assured them.
Nothing much of interest besides the lake was suggested to tourists by either the Adaban and Usse travel memoirs they had checked beforehand or by the locals, who insisted upon their town's mundane nature in contrast with Dolbaskei's peddlers of oddities. They considered themselves regular folk who worked, played, and discussed the latest news about a construction accident the king had needed to go frown at, the start of an anti-piracy campaign in the southwest, a production of Sighs of Russet complicated by sudden illness on the part of the lead actress, and the donation by Judge Dolityu Bars of his art collection to his city as a result of being without children he cared to remember. As the name indicated, Akkagafwarrefo wanted its residents and visitors to relax.
Another group of visitors arrived, this one a decent-sized entourage accompanying a Redrin noble. The natives thought it unusual to have two rather large groups of foreigners arrive on the same day and amused themselves by pairing them up in their minds. “Gentlemen, are those not your friends, those travelers from Redrin with its unenviable borders? You must go meet your friends!” Then they laughed until Dirant thanked them for telling him and did what they advised. That made them laugh even more, if with a different timbre.
Perhaps other Redrin lords were making themselves busy in Yean Defiafi at the time, but the newcomer was indeed Audnauj Olzenchipt Stavripdeu Blawraj. “I settled on a sculptor at last and hurried on. He has quite a reputation. No horse-work in his portfolio though, so of course he needed some instruction on musculature and such. Good job we had horses with us.”
Dirant looked at the grooms. “Good job, guys.”
“Thanks, Dirant.”
The narrator continued. “The key was that he paid attention. Some of those artists, it was human subjects or nothing for them. Do you run into that problem in Grenlof?”
“Our sculptors, so far as I know, care for nothing but being paid on time.”
Audnauj used his knife to salute in the general direction of the GE before it went back to his shallow dish of dumplings in hot soup. Everyone needed a break from fish sometimes. “That's how it ought to be done, in my opinion. So how are you Adabans doing?”
“Well. Our last stop is the capital, and then, home we go.”
“Now that's a phrase I'd like to be able to say. All this trouble and I've scarcely started. That eardron stuff.” Concern drove him to a frown, though it was concern over some escaped dumpling filling. “That reminds me. Do you know how they categorize eardron? I didn't until recently. They rate each individual hue separately as far as luster and impurities by using bells and things to bring them out. Painstaking stuff. It keeps changing, is the problem. Seems the company handling our order has one Picker who has this ability that stops that from happening. Didn't you say something about that to Onzalkarnd before? Edition Freeze, I think? I wasn't sure it was a real thing back then. Never know what an Adaban thinks is funny.”
Dirant realized then that the gods did reward good deeds just as stories meant for children claimed, at least the ones children generally disliked. There he was, no real angles on finding a Picker with Edition Freeze, and the man he saved from kidnapping told him all about it. Then he reflected that the only reason he wanted to find one was to help out another Ritualist and wondered who was doing which deeds that were being rewarded in what way when. Maybe his reward was still coming. Encouraged, he inquired further with a view toward meeting the Picker and getting him to do, well, something. Certain details remained to complicate the matter, but second comes second if it comes at all.
“That will be welcome news to a colleague of mine,” Dirant said. “Are you free to tell me the Picker's name and location, or?”
“I'm not entirely sure about either. How about this.” Audnauj leaned forward, an action which incurred a risk of dipping an elbow in the soup. “Why shouldn't you come along with us to the Lesser? Lots of reasons I suppose, but what I mean is, that problem we discussed. It's gotten worse than ever. I may not be entirely faultless in bringing it on myself, but a solution is required.” Seeing Dirant's hesitation, he rushed to calm his fears. “There won't be any problem as long as you don't carry on any commerce and aren't a spy. We'll give you a bit of a haircut and new clothes so you can pass for a Yumin. Naturally I wouldn't think of asking you to leave your maid behind.”
The only doubts Dirant felt were that he might fail to convince Silone to keep him employed while he did it and how much entertainment he should try to mine from that maid bit. “Though I'm eager to accept, my yoke isn't so light. I must take this proposal to my superior. And my maid, who isn't contracted for so long a trip.”
“I wish you would.”
He did, and Silapobenk evinced some interest in the endeavor. He settled back and asked, “What is your plan?”
“Lord Audnauj at least is convinced that this current assignment is in the nature of a test to determine if he can be entrusted with real responsibility. Provided he is . . .” Dirant shrugged. “He must be kept out of trouble, and already that is too much. If I clean up any trouble before it becomes an authentic problem and preserve his reputation, we will have at least an approachable contact in Swachtipl. That is the extent of what I dare claim. Is it sufficient, or?”
Silapobenk made some notes. “It's a realistic goal. Perhaps we will make you head of the department of trying to get us into Redrin when you get back. The position is open at the moment.”
“I understand.” A note of wistfulness entered Dirant's voice. “Silone, will I ever again perform rituals?”
“Certainly. Hobbies are important.”
As for Takki, the prospect enticed her except for one point. “Is that really the impression I give? A maid?”
“The most Lord Audnauj saw of you was when we chased after Glainai Gabas. Perhaps that is how maids behave in Redrin.”
“You think so? Now I really want to go.” It seemed everyone was agreed.