Below the Heavens [Trad Epic High Fantasy]

Why does happiness never linger as sadness does?

— Except from Flangel's Journal

The way Mursa Jyuni had prepared two of her people — of her remaining people — to help Primrose and Kalle in Molam's stead spoke of her determination to get his time. Well prepared, but also a poor move if they were negotiating. Molam almost contemplated refusing or finding some other excuse, but thought better of it. Now was not the time to make distance, and if he could push their own agenda in front of the new Mursa, there was only much to gain.

These thoughts ran through his head as Molam allowed the healer to inspect his eyes and place an inky smudge of a stamp on the back of his hand. Primrose acknowledged his wave with a wary look, but she seemed more interested in personally handling her own belongings while directing the two mursashu men in grabbing the rest. Kalle hovered anxiously, his hands already laden with heavy items as he waited for them to be led towards the place they would be staying.

Molam, meanwhile, had already grabbed as much of his own things as possible from the sand sled before joining the Mursa. A waterskin, his notes, the vambrace, a pair of boots he wondered if he would ever wear in the Sands, clothes fit for the weather, a coin pouch with contents that would need to be exchanged, and more fit snugly into a sling sack. If he'd forgotten anything , he was certain the mursashu or his friends would get it.

Molam adjusted the straps on his shoulders as Mursa Jyuni approached with an appraising glance.

"What are you doing carrying all that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I… thought we'd be heading to Cayn and Aybel's?" Molam replied hesitantly.

Jyuni exhaled through her nose, then turned her head. "No. Delkira?"

A moment later, a stocky mursashu woman appeared, her short frame solid with muscle. She had the rough, confident gait of someone accustomed to handling burdens heavier than Molam's.

"Sorry to disrupt your activities, Delkira," Jyuni said, gesturing toward him. "Take Molam's things to his room in Cayn and Aybel's if you can. If not, drop them off with Kalle or Primrose. Come with me, Molam."

Molam hesitated briefly before surrendering his pack. He kept his coin pouch secured at his waist but pointed to the sheaf of notes bound by string. "Please don't drop those."

Delkira flashed a toothy grin. "No promises," she joked before hoisting his belongings with surprising ease and waddling off.

"Your worry is unwarranted. Delkira can be trusted with valuables," Jyuni assured him as they walked, her tone casual but firm. "Though I would have thought you committed your notes to memory."

Molam gave a wry smile. "Memories can fade or become twisted. Not to mention, it's different when you look at what you wrote down," he said, shifting his pouch and splitting a few coins into other pockets. Maybe no one in Oasis would…? He doubted anyone would try, but old habits died hard. Better to keep things secure than to regret carelessness later.

Jyuni watched him with an amused expression but didn't comment.

"If we're not going to Cayn and Aybel's, then where are we going?" Molam asked, adjusting his pace to match hers.

"We're taking a walk," Jyuni said simply. She glanced toward the entrance into the UnderCity ahead, her expression thoughtful. "The other two Mursa are already at the residency. I don't know how much time we'll have for a private chat once we get there."

They'd approached a curved mirror arrayed before a giant arch. An entrance into Oasis. The mirror faced the Sun, angled such that the rays shot straight into the entrance, a concentrated beam of light. Something gleamed at the end; another mirror, scattering light into the depths within. Jyuni led Molam past the mirror towards the arch; Molam caught a final glimpse of the gleaming walls of the City above them before they entered the UnderCity.

"A chat about…?" Molam asked as they walked down the hall. The beam of light only occupied the middle of the path, illuminating all particles traveling through it. There was always the temptation to touch it, but he'd heard about the danger of concentrated light.

His thoughts ran swiftly through the possible reasons Mursa Jyuni wanted to talk. Was this about whether he had an answer to Mursa Allyce's question? Did he owe the mursashu something he'd neglected to consider? Oh Gods, she had made sure to separate him from the others.

"I just…" she sighed, then seemed to allow her mind to wander as they continued walking. Molam waited patiently; they were entering a crowd, and he stayed close to avoid missing her words or getting lost. Oasians glanced at them, for they stood out with their lighter skins, but said nothing. There was a certain fervor in the air; the people had worried faces and many were conversing in hurried undertones. Molam caught several passing phrases and words before he understood: everyone was on edge about the Lord's Domain reacting to something.

Moments passed along with two stalls before Mursa Jyuni seemed to finish gathering her thoughts. "I just feel lost."

Lost? What — Molam stopped himself mid-thought. Of course Mursa Jyuni wasn't talking about being lost physically. She was currently leading him somewhere, or so he hoped. It was not yet suppertime, and people were still out and about in the cavernous areas of the UnderCity. If she'd been physically lost, she would have stopped to ask for directions.

No, she must be talking about something else. Lost, because she no longer had a guide.

"Mursa Jyuni," Molam began, but she interrupted him with an elbow to the arm.

"When it's just the two of us, Jyuni is fine." She shook her head. "I don't feel like I deserve the Title."

"If your people caught me referring to you without your Title, they might think I'm not giving you due respect," he replied mildly.

"They know better than to be shortsighted. You never had a Title, but Mursa Shang treated you as an equal. You had his respect, and you shall have mine." She paused, then added softly, "I don't want to be Mursa right now. I want to talk to you as Jyuni. Before all this…" she swallowed, then seemed to change what she was about to say. "Just Jyuni, when it's just us," she repeated. "Can you do that?"

Molam nodded, even though she was looking down the street ahead. "I understand."

Or so he hoped. The weight of her position must have been smothering ever since she had inherited the Title, yet she could not put that down in front of her people. Jyuni needed someone with whom she could not be expected to act as Mursa.

"And please convey it to Primrose and Kalle too. I'd prefer if they just called me Jyuni in private."

Molam nodded. "Done."

"Thank you. Here we are." Jyuni poked at his shoulder and the two of them stopped. Molam to the side to see her looking at what looked like a small restaurant. The nameplate hanging above the double doors serving as an entrance read Kleyn's Bottle. "They have good snacks. My treat."

"You're treating me as Jyuni, right?" Molam asked suspiciously. A Mursa offering to pay for something? "Not as… ah, your position?"

"You won't end up paying for this," Jyuni winked at him. "Because you already have. Bahhh, look at your face." She pushed through the double doors. "It's even funnier when I know it to be true."

Resisting the urge to touch his own face or toss her a pithy remark, Molam followed Jyuni inside. The scent of spiced meat and warm bread greeted him as the door swung shut behind them. The interior of Kleyn's Bottle was modest but well-kept, lit by hanging lanterns that cast a soft glow over the stone tables and woven carpets. A few patrons sat scattered throughout, engaged in quiet conversation, their voices blending with the occasional clatter of ceramic cups. Upon a second look, Molam saw the lanterns did not carry a flame; a solitary stone glowed from within. Alchemy.

Jyuni led him to a table near the back, away from prying eyes and curious ears. A young server approached, setting down two small clay plates. A platter contained white granules, which Molam guessed to be salt. The other was peanuts.

"Anything to drink?" asked the Oasian. Sunken eyes sat above a small nose on her tired face. "We have distilled water, moonmelon juice, moon wine, ale…"

"Moonmelon juice. Two cups," Jyuni ordered.

"Anything to eat?"

"Are there meat buns? Not camel," Jyuni added, hurriedly. "Grouse or quail?"

"We're all out of poultry, I'm afraid," answered their server.

"It is what it is then. Are you hungry?" Jyuni turned to Molam, who shook his head. "More peanuts then, thank you."

Another plate of peanuts was brought over, bigger this time.

"Snacktime," Jyuni declared, leaning back in her seat as she sniffed at her cup of moonmelon juice. She sipped at it, seemed to nod to herself, then took a bigger gulp. Molam dipped a peanut in salt and popped it into his mouth. Chewy. Must have been shelled this morning.

Two peanuts later, he was reconsidering waiting for Jyuni to start the conversation. She had brought him here. She was paying for the food. Apparently. She had wanted a private chat.

So what was she waiting for?

He looked down at his cup, then sipped at it. The sweet taste of moonmelon ran over his tongue and down his throat, bringing relief he was not expecting. When was the last time he had drunk water?

"Do you like moonmelon?" asked Jyuni. Her eyes were on him, and Molam regretted diverting his gaze. He had let his guard down too much if he hadn't caught the moment she'd looked at him.

"It has a unique taste among the fruits. A shame it cultivates poorly in the Central Valley," he answered, letting his gaze slip away from hers as he looked down. He wondered if it seemed on purpose or more the way Primrose always did it; relaxed, unperturbed.

"Plants do that often. You think just give them soil, some water, Sunlight, and they thrive. But that's not the case for everything." Jyuni took another sip of her own, then picked up a small handful of peanuts. After what seemed to be a moment of counting them, she put the hand to her mouth and tilted her head back, then brushed rid herself of the crumbs. Despite her chewing, she continued, "Everyone thinks something is easy until they have to do it."

Molam, still unsure if a negotiation was underfoot, decided to test it. "I take it you're having difficulty adjusting to your new role. Was that why you wanted to talk to me?"

Jyuni arched a brow. "Why are you always so fast to talk business? Can't you just… speak with me, instead of with Mursa Jyuni? Put down our masks, if just for a moment?" A hint of danger – or perhaps even, desperation – crept into her tone. Molam felt taken aback, almost wondering if he was imagining it.

"I asked because I am speaking with you, Jyuni." He emphasized her name. "And if this is how you want to spend the limited time we have to put down our guard, then so be it."

He ate another peanut.

Jyuni didn't look at him, sighing instead and setting her hand down on the table. Her fingers drummed on it in sequence, then she took a deep breath and seemed to raise her shoulders in preparation to speak. But she leaned back again, continuing the drumming of her fingers before she grabbed a peanut, dipping it in salt.

"I know I'm being selfish," she said. "You don't have to tell me. I'm sorry. You and I have responsibilities, and our people expect us to adhere to those responsibilities, and so when we disappear to have conversations while they're left doing the heavy lifting, they think we're discussing business. As they say — being responsible. They think we're working to advance or protect their interests. And so you're free to resent me if you think I'm wasting your time right now, or if you think we shouldn't be doing this."

"I didn't say I resent you," Molam added mildly, taken aback by her sudden talkativeness. The new tactic seemed different than what he had come to expect out of her.

"I would resent me," Jyuni shook her head. "Just tell me; when do you get to stop wearing your mask? Or is that who you really are? Molam, who leads a small named group as the Oracle's vessel." She seemed to chuckle to herself, then licked salt off her fingertip. "When are you able to be yourself, Molam? If ever? Or is that all you ever aspired to?"

"That seems to be a question with intent. Are you looking to understand me, or just looking for advice?" he asked in turn. Or perhaps there's more to it?

"There you go again. I'm just Jyuni right now," Jyuni flicked a peanut at him. She had impeccable aim. It bounced off his chin and dropped onto the table. "Not Mursa."

Molam picked up the fallen peanut and nibbled at it. "Your tattoo is glowing."

"This?" She tapped at the pulsing tattoo on her forearm. "A simple restriction so this conversation stays private even from attentive ears," Jyuni grumbled. "I promise it's nothing else. No one can exert a Domain within Oasis."

A moment later, Molam nodded. That was true. If anything, he could trust the feather to have extended a protective Domain if Jyuni harbored hostility, but he wondered if even Fiery One's Domain could fully manifest and maintain itself within the Lord of Sand's Domain. No two Domains could coexist within the same space.

"Good, so you can be agreeable if you want," Jyuni spun a peanut on her plate. "Fine. If I make a vow to be on your side while you're in the Endless Sands, will you finally show me who you are?"

Molam wondered if averting his gaze hid his surprise. Is that true, or do I just want it to be true? He looked down, swirling the juice in his cup. "Just until we leave this establishment, will that work?"

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"You're negotiating again," Jyuni trilled, wagging a finger at him. Then she smiled. "For someone who trusts no one, it's heartwarming to see that you want to. I'm just giving you that guarantee." She drew a golden circle around her chest. "I, Mursa Jyuni, can promise to work with you if you promise to work with me."

After a moment, Molam picked up a peanut, inspecting it without really looking at it. "You included language to ensure it won't go into effect unless I cooperate with you," he prodded her. That, or her tactic changed. A test, or a trap? Which was the real Jyuni— the one who teased, or the one who was convincing him to let his guard down? Had everything in their conversation up to now been the real falsehood? "So much for trying to put anything down."

"I'm still in a position that requires me to be responsible." Jyuni shrugged. The golden circle glowed in front of her chest, present but not in effect. "And so are you. Leader of the Dao or not, you need allies."

"I didn't think you brought me here to leverage threats."

Her fingers stopped drumming. "It's not a threat, Molam. It's reality. You lack friends. You might think that if you answer Mursa Allyce's question today, you'll have three caravans backing you. But that's not true allyship. And I think you're discerning enough to know the difference between yes, as you command and we'll do our best because we care about you." She lifted a finger before he could speak. "Don't put on your mask now. I'm offering this to Molam, not the Oracle's vessel or the leader of the Dao. And right now, I'm just Jyuni." She hesitated, then lowered the finger, replacing it with an outstretched hand. With her other, she covered the still-glowing circle over her chest. "I would name you a friend of the mursashu."

His instincts screamed trap. His gut twisted—don't trust her. She would sell him to the Empire in a heartbeat if the price was right.

But why make this move now? How could she betray him when the mursashu needed him to help cleanse Mur?

Don't be foolish, a voice whispered in his head. You trusted people once. And where did that get you? A phantom burning, the ghost of long-dead flames, licked at his skin.

Perhaps he had lingered in silence too long. Jyuni sighed, leaned back, and withdrew her hand. A flicker of something—disappointment?—crossed her face before she popped another peanut into her mouth.

"This–" she pointed to the golden circle, the symbol of her promise, "is still here."

Molam studied Jyuni's face. She gave him a wan smile. If it was calculated, he could not tell. Not for the first time in his life, he wished he had the Sight.

"Well?" asked Jyuni.

Molam sighed. "You're persistent," he muttered.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Jyuni tilted her head. "I'd rather call it... determined."

Molam let out a dry chuckle. "Is there a difference?"

"One keeps knocking on the door. The other breaks it down." She tapped a finger against the table. "I don't want to break anything with you, Molam. Just open the door."

He swirled his drink again, watching the way the liquid sloshed against the sides of the cup. "Why do you care so much?" he asked finally. "What do you gain from this?"

She sighed, propping her chin on her hand. "You really do think everything's a transaction, don't you?"

"I am currently sitting across the table from a Mursa," Molam pointed out.

Jyuni didn't deny it. She drummed her fingers once more, then said, "I care because I think you might actually help us fulfill our centuries-long wish. And because whether you believe it or not, you're already part of this game. Sooner or later, you'll need people who choose to stand beside you—not just those who are forced to."

She held her hand out again, palm up. The same gesture as earlier, open and waiting. Neither insistent nor demanding.

Molam placed a peanut in her palm. "You don't even know who I am," he murmured.

Her fingers twitched, but she did not close them. "Then tell me."

A silence stretched between them. Jyuni's eyes did not stray from his face. Molam found the idea of looking away again to be disrespectful.

Instead, he steeled himself before asking her, "What do I, Molam, want most in the world?"

Her fingers closed over the peanut as Jyuni leaned back again, her expression hurt. "You insist on wearing your role, even now. I'm starting to wonder if that's the real you," she stated in a low voice. "Do you even know what you want most in the world?"

Molam had no answer for that. Instead, he shrugged, "Aren't we all just our roles?"

"Our roles don't make us," Jyuni snapped. "They don't define us. You're not a character in one of those storybooks, Molam, but I don't envy your role either. You really want to be relegated to a simple role, with a predetermined fate and an act to play out? The Gods could have created us to be exactly that, but they also gave us dreams. They gave us the capacity to have goals in life. Aspirations! And I'm very certain you have yours."

Molam plucked a peanut from the platter, rolling it between his fingers before popping it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, letting the silence stretch before speaking. "I'm starting to suspect," he said slowly, pausing to sip from his cup, "that you aren't particularly happy with your new role as Mursa."

Jyuni didn't answer immediately. Instead, she waved the server over. "Refills, please. Put it on the tab."

Their cups were refilled. The server left. Jyuni's fingers drummed. The server returned, with a new platter of peanuts. She also spread more salt into the salt platter. She left again.

Molam watched the small, deliberate motions—Jyuni's fingers drumming lightly against the table, the way her eyes flickered toward the fresh drinks but didn't touch hers right away.

She was stalling.

That, more than anything, confirmed his suspicion.

"Responsibility is daunting, isn't it?" he asked, his voice gentler this time.

A slow breath. Jyuni didn't answer immediately, her dark hair slipping loose from its braids as she leaned forward slightly. She licked her lips, took a sip of her drink, then met his gaze and nodded.

"I like you better when you're sincere," she acknowledged. Then, after a beat, she added, "You know something Mursa Shang used to say to me? 'Our people would rather see me accept calculated losses than ever catch me making a weak deal.' I didn't understand it then." She exhaled, staring into her cup. "I think I understand it more now."

Molam's heart sank at how dejected Jyuni looked. If this was a trap, it was a very convincing one. Stick to your fundamentals, he chided himself. The conversation was his to lead. What did Jyuni want right now? How could he give it to her on his own terms?

"I won't bind either of us to promises, but I can try to remember that sometimes you just want to be Jyuni," Molam said slowly, watching her carefully for any hint of a reaction. She looked up, a glint of appreciation in her eyes, and he knew he was on the right path. "I'm sure you already know, but—" a calculated pause, a deliberate sigh "—Mursa Shang was very proud of you. I'm an outsider, and even I could see that. I know you probably feel like you don't belong where you are right now, but he had high hopes for you and wouldn't have made his decision if he didn't believe in you."

Jyuni remained silent, so Molam continued, "If you want some advice, don't lose yourself trying to be him. You're not. You never will be." His tone was too sharp, too forceful—he softened it. "Just be the Jyuni that Mursa Shang believed could be Mursa."

A quiet moment stretched between them. She brought her cup to her lips, and he caught the faintest hint of a hidden sniffle. Something in his gut warned him to say no more.

"I can't tell if you're being kind right now as part of your role, or if that was the real you," Jyuni admitted. "But thank you." She plucked the golden ring of aura hovering around her chest and held it up. "So you're saying you don't need this?"

"What sort of friendship is bound by a formal agreement?" Molam asked.

A flicker of surprise crossed her face before she chuckled. "You're right." With a pinch of her fingers, the golden band unraveled into shimmering particles, dissolving into her skin.

Molam watched the glow fade, forcing himself not to look wistful. A guarantee via an agreement no one would ever be willing to break would have been reassuring. But sacrificing it earned him something even more valuable. Or so he hoped. He exhaled. "Are you feeling better?"

"Somewhat. Thank you for letting me be selfish." Jyuni dipped another peanut into the salt platter, then popped it into her mouth. "You're right. Responsibility is daunting. It's only been several days, and yet it feels as though it has been forever."

"But you have a role to play."

"I do," she agreed. "The caravan needs a Mursa. But in front of them, I'm always the Mursa. I've recently realized that — I can't be anything else anymore. Not to them. I can't just be… me."

"I can certainly understand that," said Molam as he leaned back. "My role is to come up with a plan, to always have an answer. Then Primrose makes it a reality, and Kalle supports. Our group certainly isn't the size of yours, but I also know the pressure of not faltering in front of them."

"In front of your cabal," Jyuni summarized with amusement.

Molam winced. "Please forget that," he muttered. "Kalle did not check with anyone if that would be a good name. At all. Alchemists and their naming senses, you understand."

Jyuni's eyes twinkled. "I imagine it's rare for anyone to tease you," she said with a wink.

This is as good an opportunity as any, thought Molam as he said, "Only friends, really."

The comment made Jyuni pause, blinking twice. "Well finally," she muttered, "It seems you're opening up."

Molam shrugged. "There's common ground. Let me know if you ever just want to be Jyuni for a moment. And I guess… I can always tell you when I feel lost too. Two people, trying to figure out their own roles."

A commotion to their side distracted them. Judging by the shouting, a drunk man seemed to have been unable to pay for his meal. He'd fallen down from his stool, and the server was using said stool to hold him on the ground while shouting for the owner. A new man came over, who pulled the drunk man up by his clothes and shook him lightly before making a few stern statements. The drunk man seemed to shrug and pulled off a jade ring from his hand, holding it up for the other one to see. After a few tense words, the owner held out his hand, and the ring was passed over. He inspected it, seemingly finding it acceptable, then slid it onto his own finger before pointing the drunk man to the door. The drunk one stumbled to the door, banging his head on the frame before exiting.

"Think he'll come back for the ring?" Jyuni asked Molam.

"If it's real jade, yes." He thought about it, then added, "I think it has to be real. Can't expect the owner to accept it as collateral if it were otherwise. Unless it's a very convincing fake? But it's also stupid of that man to use real jade for even just an expensive tab, unless he drank a few caskets of moon wine."

"Mmm," Jyuni pursed her lips, but did not comment further. "Well, to each their own. Let's return. Mursa Khan and Mursa Allyce will be on guard if we're gone for too long. Can't have them conjure up some belief that we're plotting against them." She stood up, putting a banknote down onto the table for the server. "As I said, my treat. To thank you for allowing me to be selfish." She paused, uncharacteristically twirling a finger in her hair before adding, "I imagine you would have preferred using this time to think about Mursa Allyce's question."

"I haven't stopped thinking about it," he answered, standing up alongside her, stretching a shoulder. He should ask Primrose for more leg stretches; something about spending almost twenty days sitting in a sand sled had given his legs a deep ache. "But I have a high degree of confidence that I've reasoned through it enough."

As they walked out, Jyuni began in a low tone, "Molam. We've committed an incredible amount of resources to get you and your people here. All costs borne by my caravan." She took a shuddered breath before adding somberly, "Lives, too. I understand some people say business is just business, and it's not anyone else's fault if you suffer losses. But… I just —"

Sensing her need for reassurance, Molam elbowed her reassuringly. "I understand," he said. He chose formal words so Jyuni would understand he was taking her concerns seriously—and to give him the advantage. "I am a friend of the mursashu. And more importantly, I won't forget Mursa Shang's cooperation, including bringing my request to the other two Mursa."

They walked, Jyuni leading the way. As they wound through the evening crowd, he added, "Also, Jyuni. I never got to give you my condolences. I'm sorry." He kept his voice low. Strained. "If you'll allow it, I would like a full list of the names of each mursashu who couldn't make it, so I can remember them."

The care was real. He was just twisting his own emotions to suit his ends. At this point, she wouldn't suspect, would she?

Jyuni stopped walking. She turned fully to face him now, her expression unreadable. "I hope you never know what it's like to make the mistake of telling someone their family member or friend died for the plan," she stated, the words raw. "For the greater good. Did you know that's no way to comfort anyone? Because I learned that the hard way, while I'm trying to not cry in front of them. And only Teyasu was thoughtful enough to ask if I'm doing fine. It's their grief, Molam. Their grief, and mine. The consequences of your decisions, even if you didn't intend any of the results! You understand?"

She raised a hand so fast Molam flinched uncertain if she intended to strike him or grab him. Jyuni herself seemed to not know either, for her fingers clenched, as though she didn't know to form a fist or open palm. Then she seemed to deflate with a sigh. The hand laid down on his shoulder.

"You won't know anything beyond their names," she said, her tired eyes locking onto his own. "You won't know how they laughed. How they dressed, how they ate, how they did their chores. You won't know how they lived."

"Only that they lived," Molam said gently.

"We have a shared dream," Jyuni said solemnly. "A shared goal we choose to participate in. One we give our lives to despite knowing most of us won't live to see it. Do you understand?"

"I do."

"And you will help us achieve our dream?"

"I am a friend of the mursashu," he repeated formally.

Jyuni's gaze did not flare with aura, though Molam felt her search; the way one looked deep into another's eyes not for the truth, but for sincerity.

So Molam simply allowed her to look.

"Will the back of your hand be fine?" asked Jyuni after the moment passed.

Molam nodded, giving her his right hand.

Jyuni held it loosely, bringing up her other hand in a stroke of gold, glimmering from her index finger. "I would name you a friend of the mursashu," she said, drawing the Old Tongue word for friend in the air. "If you would accept."

Molam glanced at the word, confirming what he was seeing, then nodded. "I will act as a friend of the mursashu."

Jyuni searched through his eyes one last time, perhaps still looking for any hint of insincerity. Molam had none to offer. She bit her lip, then brought up his hand and directed the drawn character onto the back. The golden aura pressed into his skin, spreading a tingling warmth before dissipating.

"Even if for some reason you fail to answer Mursa Allyce's question, this will help you," said Jyuni as she let go of his hand. Molam inspected the auric pattern before it disappeared. "I assume you know what it's for, but as you've never had one, you should know you need only visualize it for it to appear for whomever you need to show it to. And if you're ever in trouble, you need only tap it for all three Mursa to sense where you are."

Molam inspected his unmarked hand, then tried to visualize it. The image in his mind looked like a golden tattoo had appeared on his hand. In mere moments, the real one materialized too.

"You learned that fast," Jyuni observed. "Good at visualizing, are you? Now the mursashu will help you no matter where you are, as long as it's not anything outrageous."

"Does it come with any discounts?" asked Molam, looking at the mark from different angles. "After all, I'm letting you mark my skin."

Jyuni seemed taken aback, frowned, then laughed before punching him on the shoulder. "I'll give you fair prices. Think of the savings!"

"That sounds like a trick," answered Molam with a mock grimace. "I don't know of anyone who's spent their way to savings."

"Tell them to spend more, enough to see the savings materialize," Jyuni beamed, then stuck out her tongue at him before turning around. "Come with me now. We need to make the meeting if you're going to make all three caravans listen to you." She beckoned for him to follow her the rest of the way to Cayn and Aybel's, turning around briefly to add, "You know, I find you a lot more tolerable when you're sincere."

"I'll try to be sincere more often then." Molam followed Jyuni through the crowd. Though Molam meant every word he said to her, he certainly appreciated Jyuni for being easier to befriend than Mursa Shang.

Finally. Molam brushed a finger where the mark sat, invisible for now. He could tell Mursa Shang had been held back over concerns about any potential losses Molam would drag him into, though Molam could also tell Mursa Shang had always wavered when he considered it. Out of respect for the man, Molam intended to never use this unless forced to, but had recognized it was necessary to obtain it.

One step closer to turning vision into reality.