Alistar was most wary of the high-ranking official that was leading the delegation, for a prerequisite of becoming a bishop in the Land of One Hundred Counties was that any considered for the position had to, at the very least, be an accomplished magus of the fifth tier. The section of the Winding Road that the delegation was to follow ran quite close to the cave’s location, so on the off chance that he was attacked by something and he did happen to let loose his unbridled aura, it was possible that the man in question might notice such a thing.
Why didn’t I just bring him the food yesterday?
He’d planned to restock Aglain’s provisions earlier in the week, but knowledge of Lessa’s looming departure and her insistence at giving him yet another gift for his Name Day had led to him making the foolhardy decision to push such an important matter ahead to the following morning. Only, he hadn’t expected Lessa to show up at the estate mere moments after he’d slid out of bed. After sensing that something was off about her disposition, he hadn’t had the heart to send her away.
Stopping at the kitchens to fill his bag with all sorts of dry foods, he left the estate at a sprint and hurried southward. Seeing the constant streams of people that were trickling into the city from its western gate as well as the countless others that were visible on the country roads beyond, he made sure to navigate around Mayhaven and hurried toward the southern section of the walls with energized steps.
The closer he drew to the county limits and the rigid, stony boundary that marked them, the more he began to berate himself for making such a monumental mistake. How could I have been such a fool? Steering clear of several farmhouses and a handful of hamlets, he eventually arrived at Distan’s southernmost wall. Without stopping, he grasped the hilt of his sword to stabilize his scabbard and then sent a great deal of swordsman’s aura coursing throughout his body, at which point he cleared the crenellations with a bounding leap and then landed at a roll on the other side.
Making sure that the string that bound the bag hadn’t come undone, he proceeded through the forest as quickly as he could while still maintaining a satisfactory level of quiet. As the youngest of Tramon’s disciples to reach the warrior stratum—even if he was only a lower practitioner that had been denied his stripes—he could now proceed with confidence throughout the forests that surrounded Distan. At his current level, it wouldn’t be difficult to take on a job as a senior guard in a city like Valay or Calei, a position that provided respect and good pay.
A short while later, Alistar arrived at the empty little clearing where the cave sat hidden in plain sight. Urging himself to make it a quick visit, he stepped through the threshold and into the musty darkness where Aglain lay motionless a few paces ahead of him. Lighting up the well-carved enclosure with a few floating, flickering flames that he conjured with a thought, Alistar strode forward and proceeded to unlock the unconscious man’s memories.
Coughing like someone that had nearly drowned, the emaciated prisoner blinked open his unseeing eyes and stared at him for a few seconds before grunting in understanding and pushing himself up into a seated position.
He noted that his accomplice had grown a decent head of wispy blond hair—more white than blond—and that, while worryingly skinny and possessing a sickly pallor, he at least looked like a living person.
“What’d you bring this time?” rasped Aglain, eyeing the bag in his hand.
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Untying the string at its top, Alistar removed the noble’s seal and his uncle’s letter before handing it over to the hungry man.
“I don’t suppose someone's written me, hmm?”
Noticing that a little bit of the fog in the man’s eyes had dispersed since last they met, he said, “I’m sorry to say, but this is mine.”
“In a rush to read it? It looks pretty substantial.” Biting into a hunk of cheese with grateful vigour, Aglain added, “One can’t help but pity the writer, for all the questions you’ll surely ask them once you’ve read through their message.”
“Someone took the time to write it, so I plan to read it as soon as I get the chance.”
He had a full schedule, unfortunately, for he had promised to meet up with Lessa at some point during the parade, and had also been invited to his master’s house to discuss the festivities over a glass of fire whiskey. Tramon had no interest in the church or its members and so was likely one of the only people in Distan who wouldn’t be rushing onto the streets in order to catch sight of one of the most powerful people in the empire, a revered bishop from Providence Region along with his grand retinue of over two thousand people.
“Bringing it along with you, I imagine today is quite the busy one?”
“A very busy one, yes.”
Glancing at the brass seal that Alistar was still holding, he swallowed a mouthful of food and then said, “Ah, is that your seal? Come to think of it, you look a lot older than when we first met. At least, than my first memory of you. Congratulations on your recent Name Day.”
Erratic as the man tended to be, Aglain was quite sharp.
“It’s nothing much, just a small village nearby. But thank you.” Alistar turned to leave, intending to rush back to Distan’s southern wall where he would take an hour or so to read through the contents of Caedmon’s letter. “Even though I’ve got some questions about the invisibility spell, I’m afraid I’m strapped for time. I’ll be back in a week or so to refill your water barrel, so be prepared for a long conversation.”
“Hold on a moment, lad.”
Pausing at the cave’s threshold, Alistar turned around and faced the man. “Yes?”
Aglain’s misty eyes tilted downward in thought, as if he were struggling to find the right way to express a tender topic. He eventually looked up and said, “Thank you, Alistar. For everything you’ve done.”
“It’s nothing, really.”
“I mean it. If it weren’t for you then I’d still be dying of thirst on a daily basis, mindlessly suffering without knowing who I was or why things were so.” His voice took on an incredibly tired tone, like a fatigued man that wanted nothing more than to drift into an endless sleep. “It’s been surprisingly pleasant to have company, especially someone that doesn’t steal from me or abuse me like those blasted dogs of that so-called church.”
It wasn’t rare that Alistar felt pity for the man, but hearing the underlying sense of defeat in his words made him feel a strong surge of sympathy.
“It’s been my pleasure, Aglain.”
Unlike usual, the man didn’t deny anything. Rather, he dipped his head in appreciation and tugged at the plain, dusty robes that he was wearing. “Also, I no longer wake up to those terrible shivers. That alone is worth a thousand thanks.”
“If that’s the case, then can you tell me what happened all those years ago? They call you The Betrayer, but I know that you’re not a bad person.” With an expectant voice, he said, “What really took place back then?”
“That… I’ve told you. I discovered Limnin’s plot and stood against it. As a result, I was branded a heretic, defeated by him and some of my other colleagues, and then sometime after the final battle I woke up within this cave.”
“What was he planning, exactly?
Aglain went quiet for a moment, his face a portrait of hatred and sadness. “It wasn’t just the Drunish people that he wanted to kill. They were just his first step.” Spitting dry air at the ground, he said, “To think that they worship that monster as a god.”
“He’s revered as a saint, not a god.”
“I wasn’t referring to Limnin.” Shaking his head, he let out a sigh that sounded as if it had been brewing for centuries. “I don’t want to discuss this anymore. Doing so only causes me great heartache.”
Seeing the sincerity on the man’s face, Alistar suddenly felt that it wasn’t right to hide the fact that a delegation from the church was currently on its way to Distan and so decided to speak up on the matter.