On the morrow, when Byuga was roused from his slumber, he found himself questioning whether the world he inhabited was but a lingering dream. The night dew had fallen. The sun was ascending, and had Byuga not felt the dampness of the grass beneath him, he might have believed that stars were rising from the earth or that he had spent the night sleeping amidst the heavens. As Balbun gathered their belongings, Byuga rose and, with heavy strides, walked to a vantage point where the city lay spread before him. The Bahysas were already at their labors—striding, conversing, beginning their day. They must have started long before the dawn.

  Suddenly, Byuga recalled words he had forgotten that he had even forgotten—the words of the Shimlyn: "Winter shall fall upon you, and the eye of the storm shall be fixed upon you. When that hour comes, surrender yourself."

  What could it mean? What was this great power within him? Was that sensation he felt while sparring with Balbun related to this? With each passing day, his mind birthed more questions than answers.

  He remained lost in these thoughts until a gentle prod broke his reverie. Bodhi stood beside him, his gaze also fixed upon the city. Both looked as if they were seeing something far beyond the horizon. Then, the monk turned and moved to stand diagonally before him.

  "Did you know," Bodhi asked, his hands moving in the silent speech, "that the origins of the Chang-chao saints lie here?"

  "How so?" Byuga inquired with his hands.

  "Before the Macatosh Wars, Bahysaris was sundered..." Byuga knew this; he had read the chronicles. Some, particularly the Mashidas, argued that sorcerers should be eradicated or leashed, while another faction maintained there should be laws governing magic. The result was the emergence of battery-mages and various 'congregations.' When the Guardians of Perlam established fortresses and towers in the New Homeland, many of these congregations were surrendered to them by the Mashidas. It was even whispered that in the Perlam Towers built in Southern Bahysaris after the Treaty of Prevozi, the practice of leashing continued.

  Bodhi continued the tale. "What is unknown," he gestured toward the horizon, "is that the mages of the north sought refuge with the people of Chaf-Chauin. Chang-Chao germinated and spread here. They were founded upon the magics of healing, illusion, and restoration. Unlike the Taom-Dium, they existed, at first, entirely for the sake of magic."

  "Why did they not remain?"

  "Who can say?" The librarian shrugged, then gestured behind him. Balbun was watching them, nodding his head in a way that signaled it was time to depart. Byuga cast one last look at the city. He felt a connection to the Shimlyn there. He did not wish to leave; perhaps if he stayed, he would learn so much more. Yet, he knew he could not reveal what had transpired to Balbun. He felt a flush of heat. Yielding to them, he mounted his mysho and followed in their wake.

  They journeyed for several weeks. With each passing day, Byuga noticed the air growing colder, a chill that began to seep into his very marrow. Every evening, if they found an inn or a village to harbor them, he would sit by the fire, refusing to leave its side. At the very least, his legs no longer seized and locked as they had in the first days; he had grown accustomed to long hours atop his mount. Still, Balbun claimed they were yet a week or two from their destination, and the Prince of Gaigon wondered just how much colder the world could become. By the third or fourth week of their trek, he found himself frequently marveling at how the Kardams could survive in those frozen wastes further north.

  Balbun, meanwhile, was consumed by thoughts of how to protect Byuga once they reached Gaigen. Every second he was not by the boy’s side, Byuga would be in peril. In his youth, like all sons of the Bahysa, Balbun had gone to the Shyugan Towers. He knew the hardships there. From the most noble-born to the most hardened criminals, everyone faced the cold, the thievery, the struggle, and the constant raids of the Kardams. He was not certain Byuga could survive. No matter what his uncle did, the boy would suffer.

  Yet, he knew it was not the Shimlyn who had sent him here. He would recognize the hand of the boy’s stepmother anywhere. She had always sought to cast him out. Now, it seemed clear he was sent here to perish. Even if he survived, he would rot away among the monks of Taom-Dium, never to pose a threat to her own flesh and blood.

  Balbun would remain by his side. The boy was like his own son; he had been with him since the day of his birth. He remembered Byuga’s mother—what a saintly woman she had been, and how deeply his father had loved her. In those days, Balbun believed it was the happiest, most peaceful family portrait he would ever witness. After her death, the Shimlyn had never remarried. His grief was so vast that for months he did not leave his chambers, lying there as if waiting for death. Balbun remembered what finally drew him out: when the healers said the babe would not stop crying, he had come running from his room. They discovered the boy was deaf a week later. After that, the man had slowly lost everything.

  Balbun turned his head slightly to look at the boy riding his mysho like a ghost. He knew there was greatness within him. He knew his father loved him more than anything. Yet, sovereignty and power were like weeds that withered the flowers of all other emotions; they grew taller than all else, and when they could grow no further, they collapsed, leaving only desolation in their wake. Balbun loved Byuga as if he were his own. It pained him, as it had since the day they met, to see one with so much goodness in his heart struggle against such misfortune.

  The son of the Shimlyn was grateful for the presence of Balbun and Bodhi. He had grown up with them since infancy, and he knew that wherever he went with them, the feeling of home would follow. Otherwise, he would have felt lost, a stranger, utterly alone. He marveled that his father had assigned the head of his shimlyndvyens—Balbun—to accompany a son who was no longer even an heir.

  They had been on the road for three or four weeks—Byuga had lost count of the days—when they first encountered bandits. The shimlyndvyens repelled the attack with ease, but one of their number had fallen. They camped in the same spot for two days to commit him to the earth. It took a long time to fashion his clay effigy. Though Byuga had been terrified, he hoped he had at least managed not to show it. Balbun, however, remained exceedingly calm.

  "It is a miracle we haven't encountered brigands until now," Balbun said when Byuga asked why this had happened. "Further north, we might even face the Kardams. Though, I doubt we shall find them on the main road."

  Byuga also yearned to hear the wind. The further north they traveled, the less the wind seemed to blow. Yet, his ruhaf—his spiritual essence—could feel the touch of a breeze lighter than a whisper. He found it strange. He wished to hear its voice. This desire gnawed at him more with each passing day. It had intensified when he realized, only the day before, that he had forgotten what the sound of the wind was like. First came sorrow, then an irrepressible curiosity he could not shake.

  Nearly a month after their departure from Gaigon, they reached the Tangan Marshes. Despite the affliction in his eyes, Byuga watched the wetlands with fascination. Amidst the stunted reeds that stretched as far as the eye could see, he beheld countless pools of water like small mirrors. Birds took flight from them constantly. The scent that reached his nostrils was reminiscent of mold, yet it possessed a strange, petroleum-like essence. It was a fragrance both alluring and repulsive.

  Balbun brought his hand to his heart and placed two fingers of his left hand upon his forehead. He was a man of faith, after all, and held respect for sacred places. To Byuga, looking at his own life, it seemed clear there was no reason to believe in the gods. He had prayed to them once, apologized for whatever slight he might have committed, and even begged them to heal him. Then he had given up. Still, even through the eyes of a believer, he did not understand why these marshes were considered holy. He had heard the tales of the Tangan Marshes.

  According to legend, the Four-Eyed Shan-Duval—the greatest of the eight deities worshipped in the north—sat atop Peigun, the highest peak of the Shilum-Baas Mountains. The Many-Faced Mun Maaz Mualyn approached him. Knowing that Shan-Duval consumed everything beautiful and possessed a ravenous appetite, he offered him a painted lump of earth, claiming it was the child of Yan-Hab, the loveliest of the gods. Shan-Duval swallowed it in a single gulp, but the morsel became lodged in his throat. Mun Maaz Mualyn fled in triumph, but the Merciful Guanyin saw this and rushed to Shan-Duval’s aid. Guanyin managed to make him vomit up the morsel, but with it came all the beauties Shan-Duval had eaten before. They all fell to the earth in a state of decay, spoiled and worn. Thus, the Tangan Marshes were formed.

  But as they entered the road that wound carefully through the marsh, Byuga thought of the continuation of the story. He loved the reward given to Guanyin. Somehow, Shan-Duval had blessed her: everything her eyes touched turned to gold, everything her hands held became new, and every soil she trod upon became fertile. Byuga was amazed at how the Bahysas created gods by looking at one another. After all, the Gyumases, who ruled the northernmost city of Ogasan and claimed descent from Guanyin, sat upon a gold mine and magnificent ruins, reigning over fertile lands.

  His thoughts were scattered when a hand descended upon his reins and a jolt brought him back to reality. Startled, he turned toward the owner of the hand. Balbun was looking at him. Slowly withdrawing his hand, he pointed with his head in the direction the mysho was heading. In his daydreaming, Byuga had allowed the animal to drift toward the mud. The young Bahysa raised his hands to apologize. Balbun signaled for him to move ahead and began to walk behind him. His attention did not wander again.

  On the evening of the following day, they arrived at Nuwailiji. The greatest of the rock cities, it was carved into a massive, perfectly round rock like a mountain. As birds circled its heights, it unfolded before them in all its majesty. Byuga continued to watch in awe as Balbun signaled for him to move forward. All the roads through the surrounding marshes converged at the cliffs encircling Nuwailiji, leading toward a gargantuan gate carved into the stone. As they drew closer, the Prince of Gaigon saw the gate more clearly. It rose straight for five or six meters before curving into a pointed arch, forming a dome. While waiting in the queue to enter, he looked up at the city. It was the reverse of what he knew: countless buildings with both horizontal and vertical sharp edges rose like water droplets flowing toward the sky. Gaigon was far larger, but this city looked as if it were hanging upside down upon the earth. How these perfectly round, smooth-surfaced rocks came to be in the middle of a marsh, Byuga could not fathom.

  They waited in line for nearly an hour. Others in the queue looked at them strangely. Byuga realized they thought he was someone of importance. They must have been surprised to see someone significant traveling with such guards. If only they knew, he thought with a self-mocking pity, how utterly unimportant I am! He said nothing, however, and donned the beret Balbun had given him.

  The moment they passed through the city gate, Byuga was struck with wonder once more. Inside was a sort of gallery-city. The air warmed slightly as they crossed the threshold. In the very center stood a colossal pillar, and within it, he saw an elevator. He noticed much later that at the very top of the city—which surrounded them like the interior of a cylinder illuminated by thousands of lights—were two large gates. Aside from the elevator and these two gates, there was no way up. He turned to Balbun, but they were still in line, and the old shimlyndvyen signaled for him to keep moving. When the line finally dispersed and they reached the square, he turned back to him.

  "I want to go up," he said with his hands.

  "No." Balbun said it with a shake of his head. "The upper levels are for the wealthy and the subjects of the Shimlyn." When Byuga looked as if he might object, Balbun furrowed his brows in anger. "We will find a warm place to spend the night, and then we leave early." Byuga did not argue. He merely turned away in discontent and began to dismount.

  "Let us be cautious." Bodhi stepped down from his mysho and looked at Balbun as he helped Byuga down. "There are many here who will see our full purses and try to rob us." Balbun did not raise his hands this time; it exhausted him to constantly lift fingers frozen by the cold just so Byuga could understand.

  "I wish our purses were truly full," he said to Bodhi. He then handed their myshos to the other shimlyndvyens. "Take them to the stables. If there is paint in their bags, mark them. You will find us at one of the inns." He then took Bodhi and Byuga and walked toward the back of the square. He had seen from the queue that pack animals were not permitted further into the city.

  Two statues stood at the mouth of the entrance square. Soldiers stationed before an iron gate between them searched and questioned everyone entering or leaving before allowing them through. Byuga found it strange that there was so much traffic in a city as far north as Nuwailiji. He wondered what people could possibly come here for, seeing no reason for any Bahysa to visit, aside from those from neighboring villages or other rock cities.

  When they reached the gate, they were searched, and Balbun was questioned. Byuga could not understand the words. Balbun pointed to him several times, and a brief argument ensued. A moment later, Balbun leaned in and whispered something, dropping several gold lishens into the man’s palm. The guards looked at each other, grinned, and said something before letting them pass and signaling to the others. Beyond the gates lay a colossal square—so vast that several of Gaigon’s squares combined would barely equal it. Countless people moved about, and the stalls arranged in a semi-circle toward the center were crowded.

  Walking along, Balbun noticed a great many Shyugan Sentinels. Perhaps the youths were sneaking away for a week’s respite. Or perhaps they were supply contractors. In any case, he approached a few of them to ask if they could join their company, but received only harsh rebuffs. Eventually, he gave up and continued walking, keeping his hand on Byuga’s shoulder. They entered the first inn they found, but it was packed to the rafters. Seeing the young Bahysa’s fear and unease, the shimlyndvyen gripped him tighter and led him onward. Under normal circumstances, they wouldn't even need such places. In the north, there were no caravanserais or inns; if a stranger needed a home, those with the means would host them. They wouldn't have to scramble like this.

  They visited three separate inns by evening. Balbun continued the search, unwilling to bribe an innkeeper unless it was a last resort. However, when he learned that all four inns in the city were full, he was troubled. He wasn't surprised; Nuwailiji was a sanctuary in the midst of marshes, cold plains, and stony flats leading to Gaigen. Thus, even if it didn't house as many people as the southern cities, it was always more crowded. Nevertheless, knowing this did not make things any easier for him.

  Byuga was exhausted from walking. He wanted to sit or sleep. He realized they wouldn't find a place, and now he wondered how Balbun and Bodhi would handle it. He didn't want to sleep in the middle of the street.

  As they debated their next move, several soldiers approached them. The Prince of Gaigon was surprised to see a shimlyndvyen at their head. He stepped aside at first, but the man walking with the soldiers stopped right in front of him and surveyed them all from head to toe. Balbun and Bodhi spoke with the man. Then, while the monk and the warrior stepped aside to discuss something briefly, the shimlyndvyen did not take his eyes off Byuga.

  After a while, Balbun sent one of his men to find the others and then bowed his head. They began to walk uphill with the soldiers. Byuga turned to his protector with curiosity. The man must have felt it, for he raised his hands.

  "The Shimlyn has heard you are in the city. He wishes to host us."

  "Why?"

  "He wishes it; how should I know?"

  "The dynasty of Nuwailiji is the Nyov-Moju," Bodhi nudged him from behind. Balbun followed. "If he invites us, it is out of basic etiquette and manners. Such great families do not dabble in intrigue."

  "You are always the optimist," Balbun said mockingly, without raising his hands. "Everyone dabbles in intrigue. For ambition when they have need, and for amusement when they do not..." Byuga frowned, unable to hear the words, but his guardian supported him gently as they climbed the slope that wound into streets and alleys. Byuga grew excited, realizing they were going to see the upper city. Indeed, they passed through a half-tunnel road where the floor met the ceiling at the topmost streets of the hollow city and stopped before one of the two great upper gates. The shimlyndvyen knocked thrice and waited. Before long, the gates swung wide.

  The moment he stepped over the threshold, Byuga was enchanted by the city. The entire place was not exceptionally large—perhaps a thousand paces from one end to the other—but its structures were magnificent. Trees rose from countless stone planters and platforms carved into the rock. They towered amidst buildings, palaces, and various other structures carved from solid stone, their beautiful wooden roofs competing with towers that stretched toward the sky like needles. Though snow and ice covered everything, Nuwailiji did not compromise its beauty.

  Byuga realized he was daydreaming again when Balbun gave him a light shove. As they followed the shimlyndvyen and his soldiers through the streets, they saw only a few people. There was a collective air of haughtiness in everyone’s stride, gestures, and behavior. While Byuga watched the fine details of every street they passed with admiration, he heard Balbun and the soldiers speaking several times. He sensed something was worrying him, but he didn't understand what it was. He wasn't a fool, of course; capturing, imprisoning, or gaining information from the Prince of Gaigon would serve the interests of most noble houses. They would leap at the opportunity. But the House of Nyov-Moju was one of the most powerful, ancient, and influential families of the north. According to many, they were among the families descended from the gods themselves. He didn't think such people would harm him or feel the need to use him as a pawn.

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  Finally, reaching the furthest parts of the stone city, they saw a gargantuan building that stood out with its razor-sharp, curved roofs. Any observer could tell at a glance that this was the home of the dynasty. Balbun and Bodhi came together and spoke with the shimlyndvyen. Then the soldiers dispersed, and the man fell silent. The monk and the warrior began to discuss something. Byuga, knowing that whatever was to happen would happen, felt no cause for alarm. He thought they resembled a married couple while they argued.

  Finally, they ended whatever discussion they were having. Bodhi raised his hand and looked at him. "You are going with Balbun," he said.

  "Why?"

  "They only want one of us to accompany you." Bodhi was uneasy. "Go, we will wait here." He then gestured with his hand. Balbun placed his hand on his shoulder, and they walked together. The man wore an expression as if trying to reassure him. However, this only served to make the already calm Byuga nervous for no reason.

  They passed through large gates and left behind a strange area adorned with steps that could be described as a courtyard of stairs. Then, they emerged onto a high platform. The area they were in was like a massive, shallow planter. They stepped onto the grass and walked among short and medium-sized trees rising from stone pots that ascended from the earth like hollowed short columns. Looking back, Byuga realized that nearly all of Bahysaris, as far as the Shalisun Plains, could be seen from here. Those of the Nyov-Moju dynasty must come out here to watch the south and drink their tea. It was a garden like paradise.

  Following the man, they continued their walk. Massive gilded doors opened, and they entered. It was a hall, a perfect blend of wood and stone. In the center, in the floor, sat an oval fire pit with sharp ends, where a fierce fire blazed. Byuga noticed the man sitting on his throne at the far end. He couldn't see his gaze but was certain it was fixed upon him. They walked around the central fire pit and approached the throne. As the shimlyndvyen spoke to the man, the man continued to look directly at Byuga. The young man could hear nothing. Then the man leaned forward slightly on his throne and said something. Byuga did not hear it.

  "He is deaf," Balbun said, seeing that Byuga did not understand. "Would you mind if I translate?"

  "Of course not," the man said. "But in that case, let me change my words. My name is Mindhuan. Prince of the House of Nyov-Moju, regent for my father. I have heard that the one before me is Prince Byuga of the House of Jado. Am I correct?"

  When the words were translated for him, Byuga bowed as expected of a noble and smiled. He spoke with his hands but did not turn his eyes toward Balbun, as that would be ill-mannered; he continued to look at Prince Mindhuan. Meanwhile, Balbun translated his words.

  "He says you are correct. He is very pleased to meet you. He says may the Shuins watch over the prosperity of your family and yourself for a lifetime."

  "Give him my thanks." Then, the prince looked at Balbun, guiding Byuga’s gaze with his hand. "As I understand, you are a shimlyndvyen."

  "I am a Kochu Dvyen." Mindhuan’s eyes widened, and his lips pursed.

  "I thought Prince Byuga was not the heir. My apologies. Our news rarely errs."

  "It has not erred," Balbun said, glancing at Byuga out of the corner of his eye. The young Bahysa could not understand what was being said. He could pick out a few words by watching their lips, but the rest was a void. "Prince Byuga is no longer the heir. Nevertheless, he is his father’s most precious child."

  "Ah, a tragic situation." The prince’s face contorted as if he were truly saddened. "Circumstances..." In an effort to be polite, he refrained from gesturing toward Byuga's body at the last moment. "...apparently did not permit it. Still, that he assigned you to accompany him speaks of great respect and love."

  "Indeed." Balbun smiled and bowed his head. Byuga snapped his hands and raised them.

  "Where is his father?" he asked.

  "Prince Byuga asks if he might have the chance to meet your father, the Shimlyn of the Nyov-Moju dynasty."

  "Alas." Yet the prince’s face did not look at all sad. "He has departed on a pilgrim’s journey to the sacred lands."

  "The roads of Shilum-Baas are arduous," Balbun said. He held great respect for pilgrims. "We admire his devotion."

  "No, he did not go to Shilum-Baas. Had he, my mind would be more at ease." Prince Mindhuan smiled. "I would be certain of his safety, but he, of course, had to prove his faith was stronger than any other’s. He went to the Barren Lands." Balbun was shocked by this. While translating for Byuga, he pondered the reason. The Barren Lands were further to the northwest—dry, cold realms where no one set foot. Some said the Bahysas were born there; others told legends of it being the only place the hands of the gods had never touched. In any case, it was not a place one went to prove their faith was stronger.

  At that moment, Byuga snapped his hand again and turned to him. "Ask him why he summoned us."

  "Prince Byuga asks why you requested our presence. He conveys his gratitude for your interest."

  "To host you, of course." Mindhuan smiled. "Whether from the eight houses of the Quang-Shuins or not, it would be unseemly for a noble to stay in inns while visiting the home of another dynasty. Your rooms are ready. May I ask how many are in your company?"

  "Nine including us."

  "Wonderful. I shall send our servants to accompany your group. In the meantime, make yourselves comfortable." Mindhuan stood. Balbun turned to Byuga with him. In that moment, Mindhuan reached out, took Byuga’s hands, and smiled. "I am very pleased to have met you, Prince Byuga. I am certain we can spend a very fruitful time together." Afterward, he beckoned someone. He and two accompanying servants led Balbun and Byuga to a room in the west wing of the palace. Byuga was still somewhat dazed when he entered the room.

  "He treated us very well," he said, turning to Balbun.

  "Too well." Balbun closed the door and turned to him with his hands. "Think on it: if he was to bring Bodhi and the others as well, why did he separate us? Why host us if he has nothing to gain, especially a prince who has fallen from grace?" He paused. "Don't take offense..."

  "I didn't." Byuga was stung, but there was no need to state it. He thought Balbun was right; what had happened seemed altogether too strange. They waited after closing the door. They had no clothes or any other belongings with them. They did not speak to each other as they waited, merely staring into the void, occasionally standing up to observe the room. Then, perhaps an hour or two later, the door opened, and Shilkun—one of his father’s shimlyndvyens—appeared. Balbun immediately stood and went to him. Byuga could not hear what they were saying, but when the dialogue ended, the old man turned back with a furrowed brow.

  "What happened?" Byuga asked from where he lay, snapping his hands and gesturing.

  "They brought the others here too, but Bodhi is nowhere to be found."

  "Have they taken him?"

  "I do not know, but we must be careful. Do not leave my side."

  After this, the shimlyndvyens settled in and then came to the door. They were all going to stay in the same room. Since the room allocated to the soldiers was far away, Balbun was uneasy. He wanted to increase security by making it appear as if they were all sitting and enjoying themselves together.

  Not much time had passed when Prince Mindhuan’s steward appeared at the door. He looked quite cold and emotionless. He stated that the prince was waiting for them in the main hall and left without providing further information. Only Byuga and one companion would attend the invitation, which would, of course, be Balbun. Byuga donned the more elegant of the clothes they had brought and began to walk with Balbun. His protector was tense since their weapons had been taken. From the age he learned to walk, they had taught him to walk, sleep, and move with his weapon.

  "Tie your tail to the chain of your garment," Balbun said as they walked. In fact, it was already tied, and even if it weren't, Byuga couldn't have done it himself. His tail was still very short; perhaps given his condition, it would never grow. He reached back and tightened the part of the chain holding the tail joint. He lost his balance for a moment and dropped to all fours, but since this would be unseemly as they approached the hall, he stood up. Continuing their walk, they reached the prince and saw a banquet table prepared. The prince sat at the head of the table; when he saw them, he stood and smiled. Only then, upon approaching, did Byuga notice his mother and sister sitting on either side of him.

  "Prince Byuga..." Mindhuan opened his hands. "Allow me to introduce you to my mother, Crihn-du, and my sister, Lin-Shu." Byuga was surprised when he heard Balbun’s words. These were southern names. For a dynasty in the northernmost part of Bahysaris to take a bride from the south would be humiliating—or perhaps equalizing, depending on the circumstances. Why an ancient and noble house like the Nyov-Moju would want to do this was a mystery.

  Despite this, Byuga bowed his head and, as he sat, turned to Balbun and raised his hands. "Prince Byuga says he is grateful for your hospitality and is honored to meet your sister and your mother."

  With the formalities behind them, they moved on to the meal. Although Byuga constantly participated in the conversation through hand signs and Balbun’s translation, the situation was annoying him. He was especially saddened that he couldn't speak directly with Lin-Shu. The woman was so beautiful that he found it difficult to take his eyes off her. Her eyes were small and slightly slanted compared to most Bahysas. Byuga had heard and seen that southerners’ eyes were smaller, but he was certain hers were even tinier, gazelle-like. Her face was very small, reminiscent of a squirrel. Her cheeks were not plump but prominent, drawing attention to her full lips. Her hair, which she had styled into two crescents meeting at the sides of her head, seemed to frame her face. Perhaps if Byuga weren't incomplete, he could have tried his luck with her. He could have paid her compliments, promised Mindhuan the world. Gaigon might not be swimming in wealth, but it was one of the richest cities in the north. If they were taking brides from the south, he could certainly take a girl from the House of Nyov-Moju.

  But his dreams were shattered when he saw the gravity of Balbun’s expression, and he returned to the real world. Something he heard must have displeased him. He turned to him to understand what was happening. The old shimlyndvyen raised his hands while shifting his gaze between the two of them. "He wants to sign a trade treaty with you. He says that even though you are technically not the heir, you have the legal authority because you haven't been disowned." Then he added himself, "Be careful. This must be what he wanted from the start."

  "What does Shaolin Mindhuan hope to gain from this treaty?"

  "He says he wants to be honest." Balbun translated exactly what the prince said to his own prince. "He says it's clear the Gyumases, who rule from Ogasan, have no intention of sharing their wealth with any house in the north. Yet the wealth coming from the south and the rest of Ekard should be shared. He says that after Ogasan and Numobol, Gaigon is the city that trades most with the south. He says that through this treaty, the north can connect with both the south and the rest of the world." Balbun paused, and Mindhuan added with a laugh, "Of course, this way the Nyov-Moju would become the second wealthiest and most powerful house among the Quang-Shuins. We would be even more powerful than the Haidyas, who grow rich on the trash they call art."

  "And what shall we gain from this?" Byuga asked when he had digested the translation. Mindhuan listened intently as Balbun translated his words and looked at him with a slight smile.

  "Your reputation and standing among the northern houses will rise. You will dominate the trade routes in the eastern half of Northern Bahysaris and grow. I am not trying to wrest anything from you, Prince Byuga. This is truly a valuable treaty for both of us."

  "And what is the content of this treaty?"

  "I don't think Prince Byuga asked that question, dvyen."

  "No, my prince, I am asking." Then, as a look of boredom appeared on Mindhuan’s face, Balbun translated what he said to Byuga, who was nudging him with his foot. He looked at the Nyov-Moju prince while translating for Byuga.

  "It is quite simple, really. You will share your commercial goods coming from the south with us as requested. In return, we will give you a certain portion of our taxes collected from our people or our profits. A tenth should be a sufficient sum for this."

  "No." Byuga had said it just like that, but then he organized it into more polite sentences and signaled to Balbun. "We need to set a specific number of goods; if necessary, this number would be renewed every year based on demand. Also, the entire treaty must have a duration." As Balbun was about to translate these, Byuga added, "Furthermore, it is known that most of the goods from the south are more valuable than those belonging to the north. A tenth is an insult rather than an offer." These words caused a smile to appear on Balbun’s face. Byuga knew he had doubted whether he could manage to be effective and determined. Such a stance and strong resolve made the old dvyen happy. He turned and translated it all exactly that way.

  The expression on Shaolin Mindhuan’s face suddenly tensed, and he seemed to become slightly angry. It was clear he expected to find someone who was also impaired in will and mind. His eyes moved between Balbun and Byuga, and then he shifted slightly in his seat.

  "A treaty without a time limit establishes trust between the two parties," he said.

  "It does not." Byuga felt a sense of amusement as he spoke, raising his hands. He had nothing to lose. Moreover, he was enjoying this bargaining. It was clear Mindhuan was the type who only enjoyed bargaining as long as he was on top or winning.

  This dialogue continued for quite a while. Byuga introduced small talk on irrelevant topics just to keep the bargaining going and to enjoy the process regardless of the outcome, then suddenly returned to the negotiation. It was evident from the expressions on Mindhuan’s face that he was finding less and less enjoyment and satisfaction in this bargaining as time went on.

  After a grueling negotiation, they finally agreed on certain points. The duration of the agreement would be ten years and would be renewed every year based on demand. Neither party would be able to make changes before one year, and the authority to determine the quantity would rest with Nyov-Moju, while the authority to accept or reject would rest with Gaigon. For the initial start, a list of specific goods would be determined, not exceeding ten thousand of each. However, the point they couldn't agree on was the routes of the caravans and the distribution authority. After deciding that these would be determined by the shimlyns of the two dynasties and their areas of authority, they were only unable to agree on the tax rate. Finally, Byuga, unable to contain himself, put forward what was on his mind.

  "We would agree to two-fifths, but on one condition..." He looked at Balbun and sighed, then raised his hands and finished his sentence without taking his eyes off Mindhuan. "We take Lin-Shu as a bride."

  "No." Mindhuan’s voice, which had already been strained and trying to wrest a gain despite his disappointment, now became entirely sharp. "Lin-Shu is one of the two daughters of the Nyov-Moju Dynasty. As is custom, she can only marry someone from the Quang-Shuin."

  "Then why did your father take a bride from the south?" When Byuga had Balbun say this, the dvyen paused and asked if he was sure. Byuga was sure. Even if they were to be thrown out for his disrespect, he would have nothing to lose. Thereupon, Balbun asked the question, and the Prince of Gaigon intentionally placed a smile on his face. Yet the expression on Mindhuan’s face was terrifying. It was as if he were about to leap across the table and kill him.

  "My mother, Crihn-du, is the niece of the Mashida."

  This time it was Byuga who was stunned. It was even harder to believe that someone from the Mashida family would be given as a bride to the north. Although he was extremely curious about the reason, he curbed the urge rising within him to ask. He turned to Balbun and raised his hands.

  "Then it will be a great misfortune for our treaty. Because if we are to accept this rate, we must establish a bond between the families that ensures trust."

  "Then three-tenths." Mindhuan looked at him.

  "Four-tenths, and for the first five years, your requests will be accepted unconditionally as long as they do not exceed half of our stocks." Byuga already knew they would reach a conclusion, but he made a great effort not to have a mocking or condescending expression on his face.

  "I underestimated you, Prince Byuga." Mindhuan smiled forcedly. "I accept the terms of the treaty. My scribe will now set these down in writing. I believe we shall discuss with your house’s shimlyn which of your brothers Lin-Shu will go to as a bride." He then waved his hand and sent for the scribe, but Byuga had collapsed inside. He had wanted to marry Lin-Shu himself. However, saying this now would be humiliating. He swallowed. He met Balbun’s eyes as the scribe was brought in. He noticed that he too had understood the situation and was saddened. He even felt a kind of fatherly pity behind his gaze. He hated himself. The pride and happiness he had felt during the negotiation had vanished in an instant. Two words had been enough to topple him. What had he expected? Leaving aside his disability and inadequacy, he was going to Gaigen. Then he would join the monks of Taom-Dium and renounce his rights.

  He signed the treaty in a daze. For the rest of the evening, he remained largely unresponsive to Balbun’s translations, even at times to his own words. Celebrations were held, drinks were consumed, and a magnificent show was put on, from the Nyov-Mojus’ jesters to their acrobats. He, however, was as if numbed. He had seen a door that would lead him out for a specific moment in his life, however temporary, and immediately after, this door had slammed shut in his face. He felt both helpless and weak. He would disappear from this world, and no one would know; those who did know wouldn't care.

  When they went to sleep that night, Byuga could not, of course, sleep. Seeing Balbun’s chest rising and falling, he stood up and placed his hand on his shoulder. His skin was vibrating; he must have been snoring. He left him in the room and stepped outside with light steps. He walked and wandered the corridors of the palace in the dead of night. He wanted to see his surroundings. He threw himself from one corridor to another, from one hall to the next. He walked as if he were a ghost and no one in the world could see him. After a while, that would be the only reality anyway; everyone else would be ghosts to him. What did it matter to vanish for one night?

  It was amidst these feelings that he saw Lin-Shu. At first, as usual, he thought his eyes were blurring, but it wasn't so. Lin-Shu was walking ahead. She had no clothes on, only a piece of sleepwear like tulle over her. She walked with heavy steps, truly reminiscent of a gazelle. Byuga could not resist the desire to follow her. Quickening his pace, he followed right behind her, watching her through the corridors and up the stairs. The woman walked as if she were a spirit, with neither a trace nor a weight upon the world. As Byuga followed her, it was as if his feet weren't carrying his body but he was merely being drawn.

  After a while, Lin-Shu went up another staircase. Byuga continued to follow her, and eventually, she reached a large door. It was at a point in the palace, perhaps in its deepest reaches or its highest heights, that his mind could not grasp while following the woman. The woman bowed and said something to the soldiers by the door, then turned her head and looked straight into Byuga’s eyes. She was practically calling to him, inviting him to come. Then she turned back and vanished behind the door, through which rays of light seemed to pour. The Prince of Gaigon stood where he was for a while, thinking, evaluating the situation. Afterward, he gathered his courage and moved toward the soldier.

  The soldier at the door did not look at him, did not even warn him. Byuga moved forward to be sure he was seeing correctly, reached for the door, and entered despite the heat that hit his face. When he closed the door and turned his face toward the light, he saw something extraordinary. Before him was an area between lodge-like balconies that proceeded in a circle and stairs that descended toward each other in a straight line in their center. Something reminiscent of a sarcophagus stood right in the middle. On it was a strange statue reminiscent of a totem. The scent of countless candles and incense burning around it had permeated the room. He heard an echo, but he couldn't understand what it was.

  Byuga did not go to the woman standing in front of that totem yet; he walked to the side and leaned against one of the columns of the balcony. He didn't know what would happen, or even if anything would happen, but he just watched. The woman lit a candle and murmured something to herself. Her voice must have been like a nightingale’s; that was how Byuga imagined it. He focused on the echo. He hadn't felt like he was hearing an echo like this since a few months before he had completely lost his sense. It was a strange feeling. He both felt uncomfortable and felt something difficult to understand filling his inside.

  "Byuga," a voice said inside his head. It was the woman’s voice. Indeed, when he turned to look, the woman was also looking at him. "Come to me." The Prince of Gaigon did as he was told, walked toward the stairs at the end of the balcony, and went down. The woman smiled at him. "They have forgotten this place. Now what idols rise upon which sarcophagi. It is like an insult to them... Do not forget this room."

  Then the woman kissed him. It was a very sincere, very calm, very familiar kiss. He could sense the heat and moisture on her lips.

  Then Byuga woke up. It was very strange. Yet everything was as if it were real. Not just "as if"—he was certain it was real. Still, he didn't mention it; he swallowed and looked at Balbun, who was already up. When the shimlyndvyen noticed he was awake, he smiled slightly. He raised his hands.

  "What fun we had last night. Now let us set out; your uncle must be getting worried."

  A little more than an hour later, they had said their goodbyes to Mindhuan and set out. When Bodhi heard about the treaty, he was first very uneasy and asked with a worried expression, then when he heard that Byuga had succeeded, he seemed as if he would literally cry with pride and whipped his mysho, moving away from them. Yet none of this was of concern to Byuga. In the last few weeks, he had experienced many more events than he had in his entire life, and they hadn't even arrived in Gaigen yet. He felt that his life would change, and the old monotony would be replaced by another active way of life to which he would constantly have to adapt. He didn't know what to think about this, but he was certain he would experience hardship.

  After leaving Nuwailiji behind, he turned his focus toward his new home. The only thing remaining in his mind was Lin-Shu’s beautiful face.