The grizzly scene is a sickening blend of charred flesh and smoldering wood that claws at my throat and stings my eyes. I stand in the doorway, the heat from the remnants of the fire licking at my skin, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The twisted shape of who we were informed was Amalu's body lies contorted, a grotesque sculpture of human frailty. Sprawled across the floor, his skin blackened and peeling, his features unrecognizable. The destruction is thorough, a clear message meant to silence and terrify. I can't help but think this is more than just a murder; it's a statement, bold and brutal. Paxilche and Pomaqli hover behind me, their breaths shallow, their eyes wide. We knew coming here would unearth secrets, but this—this is a horror I hadn't braced for.
I know we're standing in the aftermath of a plot that's bigger than us, a plot that smells of conspiracy and tastes like the bitter ash floating in the air. I feel my stomach twist, but I force myself to look closer, to understand, to find meaning in this devastation. While the palace guards have declared the destruction to be from the recent assault, I’m not so sure. There’s something sinister at play here, something more that needs to be explored to understand what has actually taken place.
“This appears awfully convenient,” Paxilche says, “which seems to be an oft repeated statement around here. Walumaq, do you really believe the guards, that this was a result of the cultist’s assault?”
I frown, my brow furrows as I consider where we are in relation to where the attack occurred. “If I recall correctly, we’re in the back of the palace grounds, away from where the assault took place. I haven’t seen any damage from the battle in this area. This appears to have taken place either prior to or after the fighting, not a result of it.”
I sweep my eyes across the room, looking for any indication as to what happened. From where Amalu’s charred remains are positioned, he’s in the center of the area, away from his bed, away from a window, away from his wardrobe. What brought him to this spot? Was there a confrontation?
While I search the room, my attention is drawn to the window. Among the ashes, I notice a few small smears of mud, streaking toward the large opening as the cool draft filters into the room, kicking up the soot that swirls about. The mud seems out of place amidst the charred remains, possibly evidence of an intruder's presence. Partially obscured but unmistakable, its trail hints at a hurried escape. I crouch closer, studying its pattern and texture, and observe multiple smears and splatters left behind by the possible assassin whose identity remains shrouded in the smoky remnants. Yet when I look out the window, I notice no other disturbances, no footprints, and I wonder if the assailant escaped into the courtyard or through the palace.
I continue searching the room, seeking more evidence of what occurred here. Even amidst the burnt and demolished surroundings, the furniture is out of place and toppled over, the torched wooden structures strewn about, signaling a struggle. This must’ve been done while Amalu was caught unaware, though I can’t discern whether the assailant was someone he knew or a hired assassin.
The palace guards begin looking upon the three of us with suspicion, undoubtedly curious why someone in Sanqo colors is being given free rein to wander about the room. I begin to wonder if any of the men have been informed of Saxina’s disdain for us, and whether or not they’ve been given instructions to impede our progress. There’s no indication of this, however, and before my searches are interrupted, Pomaqli approaches the two men to get ahead of any possible trouble.
“What’s brought the likes of you around here?” one of the young guards asks.
“We're investigating what happened here,” Pomaqli answers dryly. “There are details amid this chaos that shouldn't be overlooked.”
The guard’s eyes narrow as he follows up his question. “And why have you been selected to investigate?”
“We have a personal stake in this matter,” he says. “Our skills and keen observation are essential in uncovering the truth behind this tragedy.”
The guard doesn’t look convinced, but ultimately allows us to continue, eventually shouting to a number of servants to work on clearing up the mess. I find it troubling, worried they will remove any clues I have yet to uncover. I rush through the room, my heart pounding as I search for any other indicators as to what happened.
The destruction is extensive, but amidst the rubble in the far corner, away from the entrance to the room, a peculiar outline catches my eye. It's a compartment, cleverly concealed within what remains of a once ornate chest, untouched by the flames. With cautious hands, I pry it open, revealing the sinister ashen gray robes marked with the unmistakable insignia of the Eye in the Flame, the symbol glaring ominously even in the dim light. Beside it lies an Ulxa obsidian dagger, its dark blade representative of its intended purpose, undoubtedly used for deeds most foul. My heart pounds in my chest as I realize the depth of Amalu's deception.
As my gaze lingers on the Eye in the Flame stitched into the robe, a shiver runs down my spine, and memories surge forth unsolicited. The chilling images from Chalaqta flash in my mind’s eye—flames consuming innocent lives, their cries echoing in my ears even now. The terror of that day, the helplessness I felt witnessing such brutality, it all comes flooding back. The symbol of the cultists' cruelty is a stark reminder of the evil we face. My hands tremble slightly, the weight of past horrors mixing with the present dread. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The pain of those memories fuels my resolve; I cannot let such atrocities happen again. The realization that Amalu was part of this malevolent cult only strengthens my determination to unravel this conspiracy and bring those responsible to justice.
Just as I start to turn away, a glint on the scorched floor catches my eye. It’s a small, intricately designed gold ring, like a piece of jewelry or part of some elaborate decoration. I glance at Pomaqli and notice his plentiful piercings, which makes me wonder… So I present it to Paxilche and Pomaqli.
Pomaqli grabs the metallic ring and holds it close to his face, inspecting it for a moment. “That’s a piece of a piercing, the kind used by our warriors to signify rank.”
“Do you think the killer left this?” Paxilche asks.
“Perhaps it was loosed during the struggle,” I observe.
“So someone is walking around the palace grounds with a missing piercing,” Pomaqli concludes.
“That’s… painful,” Paxilche says with a cringe.
I show the two men the ashen robes and the dagger. “And it appears Amalu had a connection to the Eye in the Flame.”
Pomaqli asks the question on all of our minds. “So, then, who did this?”
Standing amidst the remnants, I contemplate the ashen robes, the obsidian dagger, and the streaks of mud leading to the window. It paints a vivid, yet complex picture. Amalu, a name only recently known to me, now lies at the center of a web of secrets and betrayal. The connection to the Eye in the Flame, a cult whose cruelty I've witnessed first-hand, suggests a conspiracy far more tangled and sinister than we anticipated. The presence of the piercing, likely belonging to a Qiapu warrior, further complicates matters. Who could be bold enough, or desperate enough, to assassinate a palace advisor and burn down his quarters? And why?
The pieces don't yet fit together neatly, but one thing is clear: Amalu’s death was no accident or act of random violence. It was a calculated move, a message, perhaps, or a silencing. The streaks of mud left by the killer could point to a hasty escape—a sign of fear, or maybe urgency. The implications of these findings weigh heavily on my mind as I prepare to confront the guards. This isn’t just about solving a murder; it’s about uncovering a threat lurking within the very walls of this palace, a shadow that could engulf us all if left unchecked.
I approach one of the palace guards, inquiring which person or people are posted at Amalu’s door, or who is assigned his security detail. I’m directed to two young men, both of whom can’t be much older than me. Their uniforms of white and red tunics fit loosely and hang off their limbs like clothes being hung on a line to dry. They look frightened, standing about and looking around the room with their mouths agape. Pomaqli charges toward them, but I place a hand on his shoulder to halt his progression, giving him a soft, knowing glance that silently conveys my understanding of his urge to confront the guards. My eyes promise him that I’ll handle it, signaling my intent to take the lead and speak with them.
“Gentlemen,” I say, softening my voice to ease their fears.
Before I can say anything, one of them squawks, “We had nothing to do with this, we swear to Aqxilapu, may He cast His mercy upon us!”
I pat the air to calm them down. “We mean you no harm. We are hoping to learn what occurred in this place, and if anyone was around to witness what happened.”
The two nervously look at one another, before the other guard, slightly taller but equally shaken, clears his throat. “We… we were stationed at Amalu’s door, as always,” he begins, his voice trembling. “But then we heard the sounds of battle, screams, and the clash of weapons coming from the other side of the palace.”
His companion nods vigorously, adding, “We thought it was an attack, an invasion perhaps. Our first thought was to seek out the source, to protect the palace.”
I nod, encouraging them to continue. “And then?”
The taller guard swallows hard, his eyes fixed on the charred remains. “We… we left our post. By the time we returned from the battle, everything… it was all like this,” he gestures helplessly to the burnt room. “We never saw anyone enter or leave Amalu’s quarters.”
“There were so many running about in confusion,” the other guard chimes in, his voice barely above a whisper. “We couldn't tell friend from foe. And when we came back, Amalu…” His voice trails off, unable to complete his sentence.
“We had thought Amalu would run to safety with the Tempered,” the first guard says, his lips pressed into a tight, thin line as he hangs his head in shame.
Their guilt is palpable, and I feel a pang of sympathy for these young men, thrust into a situation far beyond their training or experience. “You did what you thought was right at the moment,” I reassure them. “No one could have predicted this.”
After the guards express their regret, Pomaqli, unable to completely hide his irritation, mutters under his breath, “Staying at your post is the first rule of guard duty…”
I sense his rising frustration, so I give Pomaqli a subtle, cautioning glance before turning back to the guards. “But in the chaos of the unknown, even the most disciplined can be swayed by the instinct to protect more than just a door,” I say. “The real enemy often seeks to create such confusion. Your reaction was human, and in these times, humanity can be a rare thing.”
Pomaqli nods slowly, then adds in a more measured tone, “Yes, the battlefield is full of hard choices and decisions needed to be made in a moment’s notice. It’s easy to judge in hindsight. Learn from this, but don't let it weigh you down.”
The taller guard looks up, his eyes meeting mine. “We should have stayed. We should have protected him. If only we hadn’t…”
I shake my head gently. “You couldn’t have known. What's important now is understanding if there were any signs, anything unusual in the days leading up to this?”
The two shake their heads. “It was business as usual,” they say, almost in unison. “Amalu doesn’t usually receive guests at his chambers. He leads a relatively solitary life, truth be told.”
Paxilche loudly scoffs at this, causing me to hit him to indicate he should mind his manners. I then ask, “So he hadn’t met with anyone that you’re aware of? What about when he was engaged in the court with Saxina?”
“That was it,” one of the young guards responds, “he only went to the throne room and his room. Meals arrived to his chambers. He hardly ventured anywhere else.”
I thank them for their time, noting how immediately relieved they appear, then turn to my two Qiapu companions. We move away from the horrendous scene and enter the hallway for a chance to deliberate in relative privacy as the warriors and servants breeze by us to work on clearing the area. Removing ourselves from the putrid smells and into fresh air is a significant relief, allowing me to focus on the pressing issue.
"Something about this doesn't seem right," I declare. After Paxilche responds sarcastically with, "Oh, you think so too?" I continue sharing my observations. "If Amalu only travels between the throne room and his chambers, then he must be meeting with members of the Eye in the Flame without his security detail being aware."
“Or Saxina is part of the Eye in the Flame with whom he’s meeting,” Pomaqli says.
I nod in agreement, saying, “There is a clear connection there, most certainly. I have an inkling as to what I believe occurred, but I’m still missing pieces of information to fully realize what happened here.”
“Your theories are better than mine, I’ll easily admit,” Pomaqli says. “What do you think took place?”
I frown, trying to connect everything to where it makes sense, where there’s a clear indication of Amalu’s activities and interactions and how they played a part in his murder. There are many aspects to this that don’t make complete sense yet, but if we do enough digging, we may just reveal what occurred, and where we should go from here with this information.
“The concealed items bearing the marks of the Ulxa and the Eye in the Flame are immediately damning,” I begin my thesis. “It’s clear that Amalu is involved with the cult. Given that his guards, who are tasked with protecting him, seem oblivious, he must have been conducting his activities in secrecy.”
The two men nod, with Paxilche commenting, “That’s the obvious part. What about the rest?”
I furrow my brows, working out the clues in my head. “If he truly ventured only to his chambers and the throne room, either Saxina is aware of the Eye in the Flame’s activities and is working in partnership with them, or is a member himself. At the very least, he’s aware of what Amalu has been up to.”
I continue, pacing around the stone hallway as the two look on, “The location of the assault, in relation to the location of Amalu’s chambers, makes me believe this was a separate attack. That the attacker seized the opportunity of chaos taking place in the palace courtyard to strike. It must’ve been planned to eliminate Amalu, and the chance to do so while everyone was distracted provided the perfect moment.”
“An assault on the palace seems like a tremendously elaborate distraction to utilize for killing an advisor to the Tempered,” Paxilche says.
“I’m more inclined to believe the attacker was ordered to kill Amalu, but not given any specific instructions beyond the method of the execution,” I say. “The assault conveniently provided a large enough diversion for the guards, allowing an opportunity to present itself, to which the assassin seized before carrying on, perhaps later joining the fight.”
“But to do so in such a flamboyant way, setting his chambers on fire,” Pomaqli says, followed by a wince.
“I’m reminded of the horrific scene I witnessed when I was in Chalaqta,” I say, “of the cult’s members setting the noble and his family aflame for impeding on their plans and supposedly attempting to expose them to the ruling officials. Given that Amalu was set on fire, it could only be a member from the cult who was the assassin.”
“This makes sense,” Pomaqli stoically agrees.
“One item that I’ve always found odd,” I say, “was that they eliminated the person for attempting to expose them and their plans, yet they executed them very publicly, using this very visible death as a warning. Amalu’s murderer used the distraction of the assault to kill him, yet did so in a way that was very obviously going to be discovered. So the Eye in the Flame want their actions to be known, but not necessarily the people committing the actions. Then, given the piercing that was found on the floor, this murder was either done by a Qiapu warrior who is a member of the Eye in the Flame, or a Qiapu warrior was given the task by a member of the cult to murder Amalu in the manner of burning him. There was a struggle, so Amalu wasn’t immediately set aflame, and perhaps the Qiapu warrior killed Amalu first before setting him on fire, figuring the burnt corpse wouldn’t reveal any additional method leading to his death.”
Paxilche nods, “While I understand how Amalu was killed, all this does not explain whyAmalu was killed.”
I release a long sigh. “The why, the why… This is the most difficult part, and I can only speculate. If Amalu was killed by, or ordered to be killed by, a member of the Eye in the Flame, he must’ve done something to aggravate them. Since he doesn’t travel anywhere other than his room or the court, this could’ve been an attempt to silence Amalu, to prevent him from revealing damaging information about Saxina or the cult's activities, or its members. Or perhaps—and this is only assuming Saxina is entrenched in the Eye in the Flame himself—it could also be a move by high ranking members of the cult to manipulate Saxina further, tightening their control over him by eliminating his advisor and potential confidant.”
“That’s a fairly large leap, jumping to the conclusion that Saxina is a member of the cult,” Pomaqli says. Though he seems skeptical, Paxilche leans closer to me, his eyes growing large at the speculation.
“The only reason I would think otherwise,” Paxilche says, “is that he’s claimed the Ulxa are a threat to Qiapu. That was the news he was to deliver to Limaqumtlia on the day of my brother’s murder, what Saxina learned from Qapauma. If the Eye in the Flame possess such similar markings and rituals to the Ulxa, then Saxina’s urgency to place all blame entirely on the Ulxa seems more like a diversion. Could he be using the Eye in the Flame, masquerading their actions as those of the Ulxa, to strengthen his position against them while secretly aligning with the cult for his own power? It’s a dangerous game of deception, using the fears and tensions between factions to his advantage.”
“Many who crave absolution in power do indeed utilize fear to maintain a stronghold on it,” Pomaqli states, his voice steady and analytical. “It’s a common tactic among the ambitious and unscrupulous. By creating a common enemy, real or imagined, they can rally support and justify their actions, no matter how extreme. If Saxina is indeed in league with the Eye in the Flame, then he might be exploiting the tension between the Ulxa and Qiapu to consolidate his own power—though the mountains separate our territories, our people have always kept a watchful eye on their activities. Fear is a powerful tool, and in the hands of someone like him, it could be used to manipulate the narrative to his advantage.”
“That’s a fairly philosophical perception, Pomaqli,” Paxilche snarks, a slight smirk forming at the corner of his mouth.
“It is known to happen every so often,” Pomaqli jests in a rare moment of humor.
“I’m left feeling uneasy about this possibility, if what you say is true, Pomaqli,” I respond. “He’s been able to utilize multiple tools at his disposal to possess power that otherwise would not have fallen to him, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep it. If we hadn’t already determined the amulet should not be in his possession before, we most certainly can’t allow him to possess it now.”
“We were hoping to gain insight into the amulets—and much more—through Amalu,” Paxilche laments. “Now what do we do?”
“All hope isn’t lost, I think,” I say, a plan slowly beginning to form in my mind. “Saxina wanted us to travel to Qespina to learn the ritual from this shaman, right? Well, let’s still do so, except for our own benefit and education, not his. We can determine what to do with the amulets once we know what they do, and that could also indicate what Saxina planned to do with them, whether for his own means or for the Eye in the Flame’s purposes.”
“We should consult with knowledgeable individuals within the palace, to ensure we’re better prepared,“ Pomaqli says. “We may be able to find more information about them in that ritual chamber, if we can gain access to it. If the piece handed to you, Paxilche, was a key to opening the secret chamber, there must be more we can discover within.”
“There are also those who may not be fully committed to Saxina’s leadership,” Paxilche states. “I recall overhearing some drunk palace guards mentioning such a thing at the inn. Perhaps we can rally support against Saxina, should the Eye in the Flame be more prevalent in the court. There may be advisors or other officials who are cultists, or who know of them. I can work on finding out who these people are, and we can revise our plan accordingly when you return.”
“So, we’re splitting up,” Pomaqli says, concerned. “I do not like the possibility of us being separated and more vulnerable to our enemies.”
“But sticking together will slow down our progress in obtaining the information and allies we seek,” Paxilche says. “By separating, we can cover more ground.”
Pomaqli wrestles with the decision for us to separate. “Lady Walumaq, I cannot allow you to venture by yourself in a potentially dangerous situation, yet I know my connections within the military ranks here would be invaluable. This is not a choice I enjoy making.”
I gently place a hand on my ally’s shoulder, and a small smile creases my cheeks. “I appreciate your concern, good, noble Pomaqli. I feel your connections here and navigating the complex environment in Pichaqta would be invaluable indeed. Monitoring the activities of Saxina and the Eye in the Flame, and being available to confront any that threatens the safety and security of the people, will be vitally important. I won’t allow anything bad to happen to me, I promise.” I wink, which doesn’t bring Pomaqli any closer to relaxing, but at least I’m able to amuse myself.
Without exchanging any additional words between us, the three of us nod—not necessarily in a grave manner, but rather, knowing the significant tasks that await us. The path ahead will be full of peril, there is no question about that. However, having made such determined allies, I’m more motivated than before, more confident than before. We’ve likely only faced a minuscule amount of the dangers the Eye in the Flame are capable of, yet something inside me is aware that, whatever they seek to achieve, we will be there to stop them.
As I step beyond the grand entrance of Pichaqta, a city cast entirely in stone amongst the glowing forgeries that dot the landscape, the enormity of what lies ahead casts a long shadow over my spirit. After awakening from a short-lived bout of sleep to begin this trek, I leave behind the palace’s towering walls and the tangled web of politics and deceit that thrives within them, but the echoes of intrigue and conspiracies linger in my mind. The air outside is fresh and crisp, a contrast to the stifling atmosphere I’ve grown accustomed to in the political machinations we’ve faced in the mountainous Qiapu city. The open sky stretches above me, which I deem as a reminder of the vastness of the journey that awaits.
I can still feel the grip of Pichaqta’s intrigues on me, the unresolved tensions and the dangerous games played in the shadows. But with each step, I push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the path before me. A quest for truth in Qespina looms large amidst a sea of lies and half-truths. The amulets' secrets are a mystery that I must unravel, not just for my sake, but for the fate of Qiapu—and perhaps all of Pachil.
I glance back one last time at the city fading in the distance. Pichaqta, with its gleaming spires and dark alleys, has been both a crucible and a sanctuary. It’s there I’ve seen the best and worst of what power can do to people, and it’s there I’ve forged alliances that I hope will stand the test of time. The city has changed me, honed my resolve, and refined my understanding of the delicate balance between power and responsibility.
Now, the road ahead calls. It winds through unknown lands, towards hidden dangers and unforeseen challenges. But I am not the same person who entered Pichaqta. I am stronger, wiser, and more determined. With each step, I leave behind the old fears and uncertainties, stepping into a future illuminated for me by Iaqa. The clarity of my fate, told to me by the clairvoyant woman in Chalaqta, drives me to fulfill what I’m destined to achieve.
As the city’s silhouette disappears behind the horizon, I turn my gaze forward. The road to Qespina awaits, and the unknown beckons. I answer its call with a heart full of courage and a mind sharpened by the trials I’ve endured.
Let the journey begin.
The grizzly scene is a sickening blend of charred flesh and smoldering wood that claws at my throat and stings my eyes. I stand in the doorway, the heat from the remnants of the fire licking at my skin, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The twisted shape of who we were informed was Amalu's body lies contorted, a grotesque sculpture of human frailty. Sprawled across the floor, his skin blackened and peeling, his features unrecognizable. The destruction is thorough, a clear message meant to silence and terrify. I can't help but think this is more than just a murder; it's a statement, bold and brutal. Paxilche and Pomaqli hover behind me, their breaths shallow, their eyes wide. We knew coming here would unearth secrets, but this—this is a horror I hadn't braced for.
I know we're standing in the aftermath of a plot that's bigger than us, a plot that smells of conspiracy and tastes like the bitter ash floating in the air. I feel my stomach twist, but I force myself to look closer, to understand, to find meaning in this devastation. While the palace guards have declared the destruction to be from the recent assault, I’m not so sure. There’s something sinister at play here, something more that needs to be explored to understand what has actually taken place.
“This appears awfully convenient,” Paxilche says, “which seems to be an oft repeated statement around here. Walumaq, do you really believe the guards, that this was a result of the cultist’s assault?”
I frown, my brow furrows as I consider where we are in relation to where the attack occurred. “If I recall correctly, we’re in the back of the palace grounds, away from where the assault took place. I haven’t seen any damage from the battle in this area. This appears to have taken place either prior to or after the fighting, not a result of it.”
I sweep my eyes across the room, looking for any indication as to what happened. From where Amalu’s charred remains are positioned, he’s in the center of the area, away from his bed, away from a window, away from his wardrobe. What brought him to this spot? Was there a confrontation?
While I search the room, my attention is drawn to the window. Among the ashes, I notice a few small smears of mud, streaking toward the large opening as the cool draft filters into the room, kicking up the soot that swirls about. The mud seems out of place amidst the charred remains, possibly evidence of an intruder's presence. Partially obscured but unmistakable, its trail hints at a hurried escape. I crouch closer, studying its pattern and texture, and observe multiple smears and splatters left behind by the possible assassin whose identity remains shrouded in the smoky remnants. Yet when I look out the window, I notice no other disturbances, no footprints, and I wonder if the assailant escaped into the courtyard or through the palace.
I continue searching the room, seeking more evidence of what occurred here. Even amidst the burnt and demolished surroundings, the furniture is out of place and toppled over, the torched wooden structures strewn about, signaling a struggle. This must’ve been done while Amalu was caught unaware, though I can’t discern whether the assailant was someone he knew or a hired assassin.
The palace guards begin looking upon the three of us with suspicion, undoubtedly curious why someone in Sanqo colors is being given free rein to wander about the room. I begin to wonder if any of the men have been informed of Saxina’s disdain for us, and whether or not they’ve been given instructions to impede our progress. There’s no indication of this, however, and before my searches are interrupted, Pomaqli approaches the two men to get ahead of any possible trouble.
“What’s brought the likes of you around here?” one of the young guards asks.
“We're investigating what happened here,” Pomaqli answers dryly. “There are details amid this chaos that shouldn't be overlooked.”
The guard’s eyes narrow as he follows up his question. “And why have you been selected to investigate?”
“We have a personal stake in this matter,” he says. “Our skills and keen observation are essential in uncovering the truth behind this tragedy.”
The guard doesn’t look convinced, but ultimately allows us to continue, eventually shouting to a number of servants to work on clearing up the mess. I find it troubling, worried they will remove any clues I have yet to uncover. I rush through the room, my heart pounding as I search for any other indicators as to what happened.
The destruction is extensive, but amidst the rubble in the far corner, away from the entrance to the room, a peculiar outline catches my eye. It's a compartment, cleverly concealed within what remains of a once ornate chest, untouched by the flames. With cautious hands, I pry it open, revealing the sinister ashen gray robes marked with the unmistakable insignia of the Eye in the Flame, the symbol glaring ominously even in the dim light. Beside it lies an Ulxa obsidian dagger, its dark blade representative of its intended purpose, undoubtedly used for deeds most foul. My heart pounds in my chest as I realize the depth of Amalu's deception.
As my gaze lingers on the Eye in the Flame stitched into the robe, a shiver runs down my spine, and memories surge forth unsolicited. The chilling images from Chalaqta flash in my mind’s eye—flames consuming innocent lives, their cries echoing in my ears even now. The terror of that day, the helplessness I felt witnessing such brutality, it all comes flooding back. The symbol of the cultists' cruelty is a stark reminder of the evil we face. My hands tremble slightly, the weight of past horrors mixing with the present dread. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The pain of those memories fuels my resolve; I cannot let such atrocities happen again. The realization that Amalu was part of this malevolent cult only strengthens my determination to unravel this conspiracy and bring those responsible to justice.
Just as I start to turn away, a glint on the scorched floor catches my eye. It’s a small, intricately designed gold ring, like a piece of jewelry or part of some elaborate decoration. I glance at Pomaqli and notice his plentiful piercings, which makes me wonder… So I present it to Paxilche and Pomaqli.
Pomaqli grabs the metallic ring and holds it close to his face, inspecting it for a moment. “That’s a piece of a piercing, the kind used by our warriors to signify rank.”
“Do you think the killer left this?” Paxilche asks.
“Perhaps it was loosed during the struggle,” I observe.
“So someone is walking around the palace grounds with a missing piercing,” Pomaqli concludes.
“That’s… painful,” Paxilche says with a cringe.
I show the two men the ashen robes and the dagger. “And it appears Amalu had a connection to the Eye in the Flame.”
Pomaqli asks the question on all of our minds. “So, then, who did this?”
Standing amidst the remnants, I contemplate the ashen robes, the obsidian dagger, and the streaks of mud leading to the window. It paints a vivid, yet complex picture. Amalu, a name only recently known to me, now lies at the center of a web of secrets and betrayal. The connection to the Eye in the Flame, a cult whose cruelty I've witnessed first-hand, suggests a conspiracy far more tangled and sinister than we anticipated. The presence of the piercing, likely belonging to a Qiapu warrior, further complicates matters. Who could be bold enough, or desperate enough, to assassinate a palace advisor and burn down his quarters? And why?
The pieces don't yet fit together neatly, but one thing is clear: Amalu’s death was no accident or act of random violence. It was a calculated move, a message, perhaps, or a silencing. The streaks of mud left by the killer could point to a hasty escape—a sign of fear, or maybe urgency. The implications of these findings weigh heavily on my mind as I prepare to confront the guards. This isn’t just about solving a murder; it’s about uncovering a threat lurking within the very walls of this palace, a shadow that could engulf us all if left unchecked.
I approach one of the palace guards, inquiring which person or people are posted at Amalu’s door, or who is assigned his security detail. I’m directed to two young men, both of whom can’t be much older than me. Their uniforms of white and red tunics fit loosely and hang off their limbs like clothes being hung on a line to dry. They look frightened, standing about and looking around the room with their mouths agape. Pomaqli charges toward them, but I place a hand on his shoulder to halt his progression, giving him a soft, knowing glance that silently conveys my understanding of his urge to confront the guards. My eyes promise him that I’ll handle it, signaling my intent to take the lead and speak with them.
“Gentlemen,” I say, softening my voice to ease their fears.
Before I can say anything, one of them squawks, “We had nothing to do with this, we swear to Aqxilapu, may He cast His mercy upon us!”
I pat the air to calm them down. “We mean you no harm. We are hoping to learn what occurred in this place, and if anyone was around to witness what happened.”
The two nervously look at one another, before the other guard, slightly taller but equally shaken, clears his throat. “We… we were stationed at Amalu’s door, as always,” he begins, his voice trembling. “But then we heard the sounds of battle, screams, and the clash of weapons coming from the other side of the palace.”
His companion nods vigorously, adding, “We thought it was an attack, an invasion perhaps. Our first thought was to seek out the source, to protect the palace.”
I nod, encouraging them to continue. “And then?”
The taller guard swallows hard, his eyes fixed on the charred remains. “We… we left our post. By the time we returned from the battle, everything… it was all like this,” he gestures helplessly to the burnt room. “We never saw anyone enter or leave Amalu’s quarters.”
“There were so many running about in confusion,” the other guard chimes in, his voice barely above a whisper. “We couldn't tell friend from foe. And when we came back, Amalu…” His voice trails off, unable to complete his sentence.
“We had thought Amalu would run to safety with the Tempered,” the first guard says, his lips pressed into a tight, thin line as he hangs his head in shame.
Their guilt is palpable, and I feel a pang of sympathy for these young men, thrust into a situation far beyond their training or experience. “You did what you thought was right at the moment,” I reassure them. “No one could have predicted this.”
After the guards express their regret, Pomaqli, unable to completely hide his irritation, mutters under his breath, “Staying at your post is the first rule of guard duty…”
I sense his rising frustration, so I give Pomaqli a subtle, cautioning glance before turning back to the guards. “But in the chaos of the unknown, even the most disciplined can be swayed by the instinct to protect more than just a door,” I say. “The real enemy often seeks to create such confusion. Your reaction was human, and in these times, humanity can be a rare thing.”
Pomaqli nods slowly, then adds in a more measured tone, “Yes, the battlefield is full of hard choices and decisions needed to be made in a moment’s notice. It’s easy to judge in hindsight. Learn from this, but don't let it weigh you down.”
The taller guard looks up, his eyes meeting mine. “We should have stayed. We should have protected him. If only we hadn’t…”
I shake my head gently. “You couldn’t have known. What's important now is understanding if there were any signs, anything unusual in the days leading up to this?”
The two shake their heads. “It was business as usual,” they say, almost in unison. “Amalu doesn’t usually receive guests at his chambers. He leads a relatively solitary life, truth be told.”
Paxilche loudly scoffs at this, causing me to hit him to indicate he should mind his manners. I then ask, “So he hadn’t met with anyone that you’re aware of? What about when he was engaged in the court with Saxina?”
“That was it,” one of the young guards responds, “he only went to the throne room and his room. Meals arrived to his chambers. He hardly ventured anywhere else.”
I thank them for their time, noting how immediately relieved they appear, then turn to my two Qiapu companions. We move away from the horrendous scene and enter the hallway for a chance to deliberate in relative privacy as the warriors and servants breeze by us to work on clearing the area. Removing ourselves from the putrid smells and into fresh air is a significant relief, allowing me to focus on the pressing issue.
"Something about this doesn't seem right," I declare. After Paxilche responds sarcastically with, "Oh, you think so too?" I continue sharing my observations. "If Amalu only travels between the throne room and his chambers, then he must be meeting with members of the Eye in the Flame without his security detail being aware."
“Or Saxina is part of the Eye in the Flame with whom he’s meeting,” Pomaqli says.
I nod in agreement, saying, “There is a clear connection there, most certainly. I have an inkling as to what I believe occurred, but I’m still missing pieces of information to fully realize what happened here.”
“Your theories are better than mine, I’ll easily admit,” Pomaqli says. “What do you think took place?”
I frown, trying to connect everything to where it makes sense, where there’s a clear indication of Amalu’s activities and interactions and how they played a part in his murder. There are many aspects to this that don’t make complete sense yet, but if we do enough digging, we may just reveal what occurred, and where we should go from here with this information.
“The concealed items bearing the marks of the Ulxa and the Eye in the Flame are immediately damning,” I begin my thesis. “It’s clear that Amalu is involved with the cult. Given that his guards, who are tasked with protecting him, seem oblivious, he must have been conducting his activities in secrecy.”
The two men nod, with Paxilche commenting, “That’s the obvious part. What about the rest?”
I furrow my brows, working out the clues in my head. “If he truly ventured only to his chambers and the throne room, either Saxina is aware of the Eye in the Flame’s activities and is working in partnership with them, or is a member himself. At the very least, he’s aware of what Amalu has been up to.”
I continue, pacing around the stone hallway as the two look on, “The location of the assault, in relation to the location of Amalu’s chambers, makes me believe this was a separate attack. That the attacker seized the opportunity of chaos taking place in the palace courtyard to strike. It must’ve been planned to eliminate Amalu, and the chance to do so while everyone was distracted provided the perfect moment.”
“An assault on the palace seems like a tremendously elaborate distraction to utilize for killing an advisor to the Tempered,” Paxilche says.
“I’m more inclined to believe the attacker was ordered to kill Amalu, but not given any specific instructions beyond the method of the execution,” I say. “The assault conveniently provided a large enough diversion for the guards, allowing an opportunity to present itself, to which the assassin seized before carrying on, perhaps later joining the fight.”
“But to do so in such a flamboyant way, setting his chambers on fire,” Pomaqli says, followed by a wince.
“I’m reminded of the horrific scene I witnessed when I was in Chalaqta,” I say, “of the cult’s members setting the noble and his family aflame for impeding on their plans and supposedly attempting to expose them to the ruling officials. Given that Amalu was set on fire, it could only be a member from the cult who was the assassin.”
“This makes sense,” Pomaqli stoically agrees.
“One item that I’ve always found odd,” I say, “was that they eliminated the person for attempting to expose them and their plans, yet they executed them very publicly, using this very visible death as a warning. Amalu’s murderer used the distraction of the assault to kill him, yet did so in a way that was very obviously going to be discovered. So the Eye in the Flame want their actions to be known, but not necessarily the people committing the actions. Then, given the piercing that was found on the floor, this murder was either done by a Qiapu warrior who is a member of the Eye in the Flame, or a Qiapu warrior was given the task by a member of the cult to murder Amalu in the manner of burning him. There was a struggle, so Amalu wasn’t immediately set aflame, and perhaps the Qiapu warrior killed Amalu first before setting him on fire, figuring the burnt corpse wouldn’t reveal any additional method leading to his death.”
Paxilche nods, “While I understand how Amalu was killed, all this does not explain whyAmalu was killed.”
I release a long sigh. “The why, the why… This is the most difficult part, and I can only speculate. If Amalu was killed by, or ordered to be killed by, a member of the Eye in the Flame, he must’ve done something to aggravate them. Since he doesn’t travel anywhere other than his room or the court, this could’ve been an attempt to silence Amalu, to prevent him from revealing damaging information about Saxina or the cult's activities, or its members. Or perhaps—and this is only assuming Saxina is entrenched in the Eye in the Flame himself—it could also be a move by high ranking members of the cult to manipulate Saxina further, tightening their control over him by eliminating his advisor and potential confidant.”
“That’s a fairly large leap, jumping to the conclusion that Saxina is a member of the cult,” Pomaqli says. Though he seems skeptical, Paxilche leans closer to me, his eyes growing large at the speculation.
“The only reason I would think otherwise,” Paxilche says, “is that he’s claimed the Ulxa are a threat to Qiapu. That was the news he was to deliver to Limaqumtlia on the day of my brother’s murder, what Saxina learned from Qapauma. If the Eye in the Flame possess such similar markings and rituals to the Ulxa, then Saxina’s urgency to place all blame entirely on the Ulxa seems more like a diversion. Could he be using the Eye in the Flame, masquerading their actions as those of the Ulxa, to strengthen his position against them while secretly aligning with the cult for his own power? It’s a dangerous game of deception, using the fears and tensions between factions to his advantage.”
“Many who crave absolution in power do indeed utilize fear to maintain a stronghold on it,” Pomaqli states, his voice steady and analytical. “It’s a common tactic among the ambitious and unscrupulous. By creating a common enemy, real or imagined, they can rally support and justify their actions, no matter how extreme. If Saxina is indeed in league with the Eye in the Flame, then he might be exploiting the tension between the Ulxa and Qiapu to consolidate his own power—though the mountains separate our territories, our people have always kept a watchful eye on their activities. Fear is a powerful tool, and in the hands of someone like him, it could be used to manipulate the narrative to his advantage.”
“That’s a fairly philosophical perception, Pomaqli,” Paxilche snarks, a slight smirk forming at the corner of his mouth.
“It is known to happen every so often,” Pomaqli jests in a rare moment of humor.
“I’m left feeling uneasy about this possibility, if what you say is true, Pomaqli,” I respond. “He’s been able to utilize multiple tools at his disposal to possess power that otherwise would not have fallen to him, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep it. If we hadn’t already determined the amulet should not be in his possession before, we most certainly can’t allow him to possess it now.”
“We were hoping to gain insight into the amulets—and much more—through Amalu,” Paxilche laments. “Now what do we do?”
“All hope isn’t lost, I think,” I say, a plan slowly beginning to form in my mind. “Saxina wanted us to travel to Qespina to learn the ritual from this shaman, right? Well, let’s still do so, except for our own benefit and education, not his. We can determine what to do with the amulets once we know what they do, and that could also indicate what Saxina planned to do with them, whether for his own means or for the Eye in the Flame’s purposes.”
“We should consult with knowledgeable individuals within the palace, to ensure we’re better prepared,“ Pomaqli says. “We may be able to find more information about them in that ritual chamber, if we can gain access to it. If the piece handed to you, Paxilche, was a key to opening the secret chamber, there must be more we can discover within.”
“There are also those who may not be fully committed to Saxina’s leadership,” Paxilche states. “I recall overhearing some drunk palace guards mentioning such a thing at the inn. Perhaps we can rally support against Saxina, should the Eye in the Flame be more prevalent in the court. There may be advisors or other officials who are cultists, or who know of them. I can work on finding out who these people are, and we can revise our plan accordingly when you return.”
“So, we’re splitting up,” Pomaqli says, concerned. “I do not like the possibility of us being separated and more vulnerable to our enemies.”
“But sticking together will slow down our progress in obtaining the information and allies we seek,” Paxilche says. “By separating, we can cover more ground.”
Pomaqli wrestles with the decision for us to separate. “Lady Walumaq, I cannot allow you to venture by yourself in a potentially dangerous situation, yet I know my connections within the military ranks here would be invaluable. This is not a choice I enjoy making.”
I gently place a hand on my ally’s shoulder, and a small smile creases my cheeks. “I appreciate your concern, good, noble Pomaqli. I feel your connections here and navigating the complex environment in Pichaqta would be invaluable indeed. Monitoring the activities of Saxina and the Eye in the Flame, and being available to confront any that threatens the safety and security of the people, will be vitally important. I won’t allow anything bad to happen to me, I promise.” I wink, which doesn’t bring Pomaqli any closer to relaxing, but at least I’m able to amuse myself.
Without exchanging any additional words between us, the three of us nod—not necessarily in a grave manner, but rather, knowing the significant tasks that await us. The path ahead will be full of peril, there is no question about that. However, having made such determined allies, I’m more motivated than before, more confident than before. We’ve likely only faced a minuscule amount of the dangers the Eye in the Flame are capable of, yet something inside me is aware that, whatever they seek to achieve, we will be there to stop them.
As I step beyond the grand entrance of Pichaqta, a city cast entirely in stone amongst the glowing forgeries that dot the landscape, the enormity of what lies ahead casts a long shadow over my spirit. After awakening from a short-lived bout of sleep to begin this trek, I leave behind the palace’s towering walls and the tangled web of politics and deceit that thrives within them, but the echoes of intrigue and conspiracies linger in my mind. The air outside is fresh and crisp, a contrast to the stifling atmosphere I’ve grown accustomed to in the political machinations we’ve faced in the mountainous Qiapu city. The open sky stretches above me, which I deem as a reminder of the vastness of the journey that awaits.
I can still feel the grip of Pichaqta’s intrigues on me, the unresolved tensions and the dangerous games played in the shadows. But with each step, I push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the path before me. A quest for truth in Qespina looms large amidst a sea of lies and half-truths. The amulets' secrets are a mystery that I must unravel, not just for my sake, but for the fate of Qiapu—and perhaps all of Pachil.
I glance back one last time at the city fading in the distance. Pichaqta, with its gleaming spires and dark alleys, has been both a crucible and a sanctuary. It’s there I’ve seen the best and worst of what power can do to people, and it’s there I’ve forged alliances that I hope will stand the test of time. The city has changed me, honed my resolve, and refined my understanding of the delicate balance between power and responsibility.
Now, the road ahead calls. It winds through unknown lands, towards hidden dangers and unforeseen challenges. But I am not the same person who entered Pichaqta. I am stronger, wiser, and more determined. With each step, I leave behind the old fears and uncertainties, stepping into a future illuminated for me by Iaqa. The clarity of my fate, told to me by the clairvoyant woman in Chalaqta, drives me to fulfill what I’m destined to achieve.
As the city’s silhouette disappears behind the horizon, I turn my gaze forward. The road to Qespina awaits, and the unknown beckons. I answer its call with a heart full of courage and a mind sharpened by the trials I’ve endured.
Let the journey begin.
