There were not, in fact, any tears of joy to be found amongst the group as Jasper and Ihra broke the news that they needed to pack up and head out, effective immediately, but his over-the-top antics had succeeded in getting Ihra out of her funk. A few hours of intensive packing later, she had nearly forgotten the dilemma hanging over her.

Unfortunately, the first few days of travel were as miserable as she'd come to expect from this province. Near constant rain and bitter wind dogged their steps, turning the narrow valleys wedged between the towering Abulmahhu mountains and their lesser foothills into a soul-sucking swamp that seemed determined to thwart their attempts to escape.

But the weather could not bind them forever. As they neared the northern border between Amur-Corsyth and Merôm, the snow-capped crags and dense forests gave way to rolling hills and large, sluggish rivers whose banks were lined with dams, watermills, and irrigation channels. If Amur-Corsyth was the land of wild beauty, Merôm was a land long tamed and leashed. Over every rolling hill they climbed, another village lay waiting, surrounded by terraced fields heavy with maize and grain and massive bogs cultivating a bright red berry she was unfamiliar with, but Jasper called a cranberry. It was the sheer number of people, though, that truly astounded her.

Like every child in the orphanage, Ihra had received a basic education on the history of the empire. Ihra knew that her own province had been the northernmost point of the Fey invasion and, of course, she'd learned of the terrible slaughter they'd inflicted on the population, but she hadn't truly understood its impact until they crossed into Merôm, the first province she'd ever been in, save for the insular Djinn, that had escaped the Fey unscathed. She'd grown up in Hargish, one of the five largest settlements in Sapīya, yet here, it would have barely qualified as a large town.

Travel became much more pleasant thereafter; there were no more nights spent camping beneath the cold heavens, no more days when they were forced to choke down Tsia's miserable attempts at cooking or risk going hungry. Instead, each day found them traveling on a well-paved road, and each night, resting in a comfortable tavern with a warm bowl of stew and a fresh pint of ale. It was heaven, or would have been, if her heart hadn't ached a little with every gilder she was forced to shell out.

Still, her excitement grew as they finally approached the city that the province was named for. After two weeks on the road, the mountains had faded into the distance, curving to the west as they formed an impenetrable border between Merôm and Sapīya to the south. But, now, even the rolling foothills had given way to well-watered plains, where rivers swollen with the mountain melt-off snaked their way between freshly sprouted fields, dotted with the bright straw hats of a thousand farmers.

And at the center, dominating the landscape for hundreds of miles in all directions, sat the lonely mountain - Merôm, the highest, the throne of Lord S̆ams̆a. Taller than the tallest spire in the Abulmaḫḫu mountains, and wider than any three combined, the mountain's size was almost impossible to process. The city of Merôm, perched on a plateau halfway up its slope, looked like a mere speck against its bulk, and yet Ihra knew it was home to millions. Smaller still was the mythical temple perched at its peak, a temple whose ascent was said to be so dangerous that no one below 100 in level was even allowed to attempt it - of that, she could catch a flash of its golden roof when the sun set behind it.

"And my father thinks he can capture this." Samsadur scoffed, as they'd paused at a crest in the road to stare in awe at the distant city as the sun returned to its slumber beneath its roots. "I wonder sometimes if he realizes just how huge the Empire is; even the stoneflesh barely stole a third and their numbers are ten times our own."

"And he has a hundred mages to their one," Tsia replied bluntly.

"Guess we'll see," the durgu grunted. "He'll win the first volley, but a land like this…" he shook his head. "It will eat you up."

Ihra could understand his point. It took three more days to reach the base of the mount, three days of making excellent time on the well-paved roads of the affluent province, and twas another two days before they finally reached the city itself.

Up close, Merôm was more impressive than it had seemed from the road. While it could not match the fabled ten walls of the capital, the three grey rings that surrounded it would be no easy task to take for an invading force. Seamless to the naked eye, Ihra could only assume they'd either been carved out of the mountain by hand, or sculpted by magic - either way, an obscene display of power and wealth that the city fully lived up to.

Merôm lay at the crossroads of the Empire, with easy access to the River to the west, to Hadin in the north, and, in the days before the capital fell, to the harbors of Tanattilū via the sluggish river that wrapped around the mountain's base, and its people had used it to their full advantage. The merchant guilds of Merôm were second in wealth only to the lords of Celestia and Iyām, and that wealth was proudly displayed in the city.

As they passed through the gates and headed toward the central market, it seemed to Ihra that there were ten shops on every street, and a temple around every corner. Entire blocks had been set aside for spacious, well-manicured gardens, and the market itself was even more impressive - where taverns larger than the lord's manor in Hargish, bustled with constant traffic from the thousands of caravans passing through the city, and stores three stories tall displayed wares of every type imaginable.

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"Where did the commander say the diplomat was waiting for us?" Ihra asked, trying to distract Tsia as the princess's eyes clouded over with greed.

"Oooh, let's check out the shop over there," the girl ignored her as she pointed excitedly at a large storefront advertising a full panel of brightly-colored dresses.

"Ugh, what was it again? The Broken Oar?" Thumbing through his bag, Jasper pulled out the letter Ardul had given him, and snorted as he opened it up. "Whelp, I guess my memory sucks. It's The Wounded Boar."

Ihra's eyes scanned the bright placards of the taverns lining the square, but she didn't see any with that name. "Are you sure? I see a Broken Wing," she pointed to a gaudily painted green and white building at the corner of the square, "but nothing about the boar."

"That's what it says," he fired back, offering her the letter, a quick glance at which confirmed he was right. "I guess we need to find somebody who knows where it is. Tsia, who would you ask-" Jasper trailed off in a curse as he realized that Tsia and Erin had disappeared. "Where'd they go?"

With a sigh, Ihra pointed to a familiar pair of heads bobbing their way through the crowd toward the dress store. "There's still time to catch 'em."

For a moment, she thought Jasper was going to chase after them, as he strained on his tippy-toes to catch sight of them, but then, he settled back down with a shake of his head. "Eh, let them have their fun. I'm sure the four of us can manage to find this ambassador on our own. Any chance you can zero in on her?" he added, turning to S̆ams̆ādur.

"Not unless she's cuckoo," the durgu snorted, and seeing Jasper's furrowed brow, explained. "I can only glean surface-level thoughts, remember, and most people don't go around thinking about themselves in the third person."

"Then I guess we're doing it the old-fashioned way." She followed Jasper as he stopped at the nearest stall and inquired about the Wounded Boar, but the merchant turned them away with a shrug. A blank stare greeted them at the second, a quick shake of the head at the third, and by the time they reached the fifth stall, Ihra was beginning to wonder if Ardûl really had made a mistake.

But as Jasper was turned away yet again, a rough voice interrupted them. "You're asking the wrong people."

As Ihra turned around, she saw that, unlike most of the crowd, the man who'd spoken up wore a full suit of armor, with a well-worn mace swinging at his hip. "You don't look like army types," the man continued. "You with the guild?"

"Sort of both, sort of neither," Jasper replied. "You saying you know where the Wounded Boar is?"

"Aye, 'tis not in these parts," the man grunted. "You want the second ring of the city, close to the guild hall and barracks. Gotta warn you, though, the tavern generally only lets members of those halls stay there. If you're not one of them, you're better off finding a room here."

"I think we've got that covered," Jasper said, flipping the man a coin. "Now how exactly do we get there?"

After getting directions from the man, Jasper glanced at the stores with a sigh. "I suppose we can't leave them; they won't have any idea where we went."

"I could always track them down for you," Nissilât offered, a curious glint in her eye as she surveyed the bustling stores. "I know where to find you now."

"You want to shop too, don't you?" He huffed with amusement.

The woman shrugged. "I think we've earned a little downtime, even if the Emperor doesn't seem to recognize that."

"Anyone else?" he offered, catching Ihra's eye, but she shook her head.

"Too rich too for my blood," she replied, shuddering at the thought of how much the wares must cost. The bleed on their party continued, though, as the durgu trundled over to Nissilât's side, his eyes fixed on the tavern closest to them.

"If you don't need us, I believe there's an ale calling my name."

"Maybe if you drank less, you wouldn't hear the ale talking to you," Jasper retorted, but he let the man pass. "Alright, well, I guess it's just the two of us."

Leaving the others behind, Ihra followed Jasper out of the market and toward the gate that led into the second rung out of the city. "Can't say I blame 'em," he sighed as they exited the hubbub of the central market and walked down a quieter street. "We've barely gotten a chance to breathe since, gosh, I don't know, S̆addānu?"

"We could just…not go," she suggested.

"You want to abandon the mission?" he asked incredulously, but she quickly shook her head.

"Obviously not. I'm sure the Emperor would notice if we up and skipped town, and I'd rather not become an outlaw," she replied drily. "But he's not all-knowing. No one important knows we're here, and we'd better time on the road than expected. We could take a few days to recover, see the shops, maybe even visit S̆ams̆a's throne," she continued enthusiastically, warming up to the idea.

"Like a vacation," he mused, "-or a holiday as you'd call it," he hastily corrected himself as Ihra rolled her eyes.

"Always with the made-up words," she teased him.

"They're not made-up words," he protested, "you just don't know them. I can't help that you were raised in a barn. Hey!" Jasper danced out of the way as she tried to jab him in the ribs, laughing as her elbow caught only air. "You know, you're right, though," he continued, sobering up. "A holiday would be nice. Maybe we should-"

"Lord Yas̆peh?" Jasper froze as an imperious voice called to them from the other side. "Lord Yas̆peh?"

"Are you kidding me?" he grumbled as they turned around. "Who the hell knows we're here?"

Ihra had no answers for him as a petite, young woman marched across the street, daintily avoiding clods of horse crap, despite her eyes never once leaving Jasper's face. "Well, you're not as ugly as they said," the woman greeted them.

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