A time where people truly understand each other? I have no way of knowing.

But… there will be moments. Not the ones you think. Suffering creates recognition.

Happiness isolates, for it asks nothing of others. No one rushes to aid the contented.

The Emperor calls this ironic and cruel, that our points of contact are carved from pain. Perhaps he is right.

But I think it is an act of kindness, this state of affairs. The Gods made it so others are more likely to help when they see us hurting.

— Excerpt from Dialogues with the Wise Man. Compiled by Scholar Taryn and Scholar Gritte.

Office of the Steward of the Lower Tiers

"The Mursa always buy jade, but I've never had this conversation with a person this uncertain," Steward Ryu said, folding her hands atop the table. Her robe was a smooth sandstone-colored silk with water-blue trim, the colors invoking the desert and the Oasis alike. No jade rings or pendants — just several thin gold bands on her fingers. A strong statement in a society that worshipped the value of jade.

"'Uncertain' is such a strong word," Molam replied easily, even as he tried to mask how unmoored he felt. Instead, he made an excuse to glance at Shiki — Mursa Allyce's bond — who skulked curiously around the room, just so he didn't need to match the Steward's gaze. "I'm happy to purchase whatever processed jade you have available. If you'd like to show me your stores—"

"It's not my storage." A faint twitch in her brow. "You didn't get to your position by being an uninformed man. I believe you know perfectly well that processed jade does not linger in the Lower Tiers. You agreed to meet with me because you want to meet our Lord, who does have a storageful of processed jade."

Molam hesitated, then smiled. "That was the hope."

Ryu's eyes glinted. "Then let's not pretend you're here for formalities. You want access. An audience with the Lord is a rare enough occasion for a non-Steward… but I'm not opposed to putting in the request — so long as the Lower Tier receives due recompense."

Molam didn't imagine he'd feel wholly unprepared when meeting a Steward for the first time. Well, not completely unprepared; he'd already done some digging and asked some questions in the few moments he had had this morning the moment he learned he was to face her alone. Then again, he wasn't entirely sure what would have helped him feel prepared to meet a Steward. It didn't help that all three Mursa had declined the meeting to focus on directing their caravans in unloading and selling their goods. Jyuni had been particularly apologetic about leaving Molam to deal with Steward Ryu on his own, but she had said this one was nice.

The "nice" Steward was currently trying to get Molam to sign away an obscene amount of resources for jade that he didn't even think she had. He could only be somewhat relieved he wasn't also dealing with the wizened Head Priestess.

He looked back down at the reed slip in front of them. Forty thousand crates of food, preferably hardy roots and vegetables easily stored, but the Steward indicated no significant preference "so long as it's food that can feed the masses." The food itself was important, but she'd also asked for three thousand barrels of wine and spirits. Finally, banknotes or an account transfer totalling seventy billion buckets of water.

All in all, close to half of the combined wealth the mursashu either retained in Oasis or had brought with them. In exchange, eighty pallets of processed jade. More than enough for him to convince the alchemists in Zaem to take a quarter in exchange for weaponizing the rest, assuming some of it was subpar or wasted in further processing.

Molam tapped a finger on the line indicating how much water was being asked for. "I'm sure you asked for this amount because you know exactly how much the mursashu have with the banks," Molam pointed out. Seventy billion buckets was more than half the size of a meaningfully-sized lake in the Central Valley; a fortune rivaling the Great Families in Oasis. "This would barely leave us with enough to keep the mursashu watered and fed."

He'd chosen to focus on it, but it wasn't even the biggest problem in front of him; the mursashu could not afford to trade away that amount of food if they hoped to resettle Mur. Complications on top of onerous restrictions, but the Steward did not need to know that.

Or maybe she already knew that and was gauging his bottom line.

The seeping anxiety of being unprepared dyed his thoughts once again.

Steward Ryu certainly seemed unperturbed with his objection. "If you don't want to trade, just say the word and I'll make the offer to someone else. I'm quite certain the Reyvints, WellWardyns, or Fontayneers would be thrilled to hear I am happy to secure them an audience with our Lord. You aren't the only one who would appreciate something like that right now, and moreover, how would I look introducing our Lord to the leader of a known cabal?"

I never did finish telling Kalle off about that name. Molam locked his jaw into a smile. "That isn't how we refer to ourselves. Sometimes a person in your position shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"Diplomatic answer for one standing in quicksand," the Steward's eyes glinted. "But my point stands. I can just make this offer elsewhere."

Unprepared. Molam was working with incomplete information, making it difficult for him to challenge her directly. "I'm curious," he said, watching the Steward's eyes closely. "What happens if I sign here, and then you lose the Water Game? Or your Lord of Sands refuses to sell his jade?"

"We can add a payment-on-delivery clause," she shrugged. "I simply want to ascertain you are willing to commit this amount to a possible purchase. Can't be in a situation where we deliver you an audience with the Lord, you receive the jade, and you can't pay, can we?"

"Or, I can simply work with whichever Steward wins the Water Game," Molam pointed out.

Steward Ryu chuckled, pouring water for him. "Steward Jyori has been pushing for certain rules she thinks would fix the basic inequalities between men and women, which would in turn fix all else. Steward Clayton is always eyeing another project, and his appetite for greatness will indubitably require our Lord's direct support. Neither of them are going to pass up a chance to speak to our Lord about the things they want. You'll get nothing from them." She paused, then pushed the cup towards him as she gauged his reaction. "Meanwhile, the things I want are already something you can provide, and so in turn I am happy to provide you the chance to speak to our Lord about the jade you want. "

"I appreciate the opportunity provided." Molam accepted the cup, giving her a grudgingly admiring glance. This Steward Ryu, if being honest at the moment, was both more innocent and true to her own goals than he expected.

All in all, he found her disarmingly honest for someone in her position. Molam could see why Jyuni called this Steward nice. Then he looked down at the numbers she was asking for, blinked at the amounts and amended his assessment of the Steward to "pragmatically sincere."

And so he tested her. "Considering you're asking me to provide a fighter for the Game, this is starting to look like an opportunity I'm garnering for myself. At least, one-third of it."

"That's a fair complaint," she nodded, almost to herself. "Then to be fair to you and demonstrate our sincerity, we'll drop the price by a third."

She was prepared for that, Molam thought. She'd agreed to it far too quickly for the reason to be anything else. More importantly, that meant he was still overpaying; if she could drop her pricing requirements by a third and still want to make this trade, either the value of the goods were higher than he expected or the price of processed jade was not that high.

And that was the problem he faced. Molam had no concept of what the current market price was for processed jade. The sudden cutoff of mining supply had thrown the whole market into disarray; just this morning he'd received eighteen separate mursashu reports on the skyrocketing price of processed jade.

All in all, it felt worse than when he realized how valuable a bucket of water was in Oasis. The Steward knew he had no solid way to value the jade, and so Molam was being forced to overpay in the hopes it would work.

He tapped the notes on the table. "I'll consider this thoroughly, Steward Ryu," he smiled at her. "I believe we can still discuss the finer numbers after winning the Game?"

Steward Ryu set her cup down with an audible clink. "I think I just heard that you want me to maintain this option for you, without even a down payment?" she asked incredulously. "If you won't put anything in, I have no reason to not make this offer to anyone else."

Molam didn't actually believe many buyers existed in Oasis to make the Steward a compelling offer for access to the Lord of Sands. Moreover, glancing at the requested items, he doubted even the Great Houses had that amount of food on hand. And, them being the Great Houses, Molam wondered if they didn't have their own ways to retain an audience with the Lord of Sands.

But instead of saying this, he reminded her, "That's not true, Steward. I have committed Primrose to your Game as a sword caller. She's a very important member of the Dao, and I believe you have no one else who can wield a sword in the Lower Tiers? We're already skirting the rules, given the mursashu aren't allowed to participate." He lifted a finger. "Now that I'm thinking about this, I believe you're still missing a fighter, aren't you? The spear wielder?"

The Steward's gaze flickered away, then back to Molam. "I've… recruited one. You don't have to worry about her, she's a trained spear wielder."

"The alleged water thief."

Her eyebrow twitched. "I… what?"

Molam took a sip of his water. "Quite a bit is riding on winning this Water Game, yes? And yet you recruited an alleged water thief as your spear wielder. One on the run, I hear." He set his cup down in careful silence, giving her a full moment to consider what he was implying. "I want to know if she can be trusted."

Molam had saved this specific point to throw her off guard; judging by her flustered silence, he'd chosen a great moment to reveal knowledge discovered by Mursa Allyce's cats. More importantly, it was his only point. If Molam had originally walked into the room and forced her to address it immediately, there was nothing else he could realistically have used to force the flow of the conversation away from her on his own.

All it had taken was a humbling wait for the Steward to eventually push for her advantage before Molam questioned it.

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"I've confirmed we can trust her," answered the Steward.

"Wonderful," Molam clapped his hands together, putting on a cheery face. "Please share how you confirmed this with me so I know the member I'm committing to the Game won't experience a sudden stab in the back."

Steward Ryu's face stiffened. "Discussions between my collaborators and me aren't necessarily something I need to divulge to any —"

Molam pounced on the word, raising his eyebrow. "Collaborators? Are you forming a cabal now?"

She leaned backwards, picking up her cup. "You know what I mean," she said crossly before taking a sip. "And no, I am not having any more of this. Either interpret me correctly or I'm going to call this off."

"My interpretation, Steward Ryu, is that you are withholding information from me." Molam held his hands out wide. "Look at it from my perspective. You take the initiative to ask me if I'd participate in a Water Game with you and the Head Priestess, in the hopes that we can win and you would sell me an audience with the Lord of Sands to see if he would be willing to sell me his jade. If he does, you want quite a few resources in exchange. I follow this so far; but then you add a fighter to our team with a troublesome history and no known affiliation? Tell me truthfully: if you were in my position and Jyuyan had to trust his life to someone like this for you, would you not feel uneasy?"

The Steward opened her mouth with a face that looked as though she wanted to argue, then seemed to think better of it before closing her mouth. After a moment, she said, "First, that's not a fair thing to ask if you already know that I am in a relationship with Jyuyan. When feelings are involved and have influence we make poor choices. Second, Jyuyan will be functioning as the shield bearer." She paused, then put her index fingers together. "Oh! Unless, you and Primrose…?"

"No."

His curtness only made her smile more. "Are you sure? I've seen her — red-haired and absolutely exotic, the kind that makes most women realize the Gods bestow beauty in unequal measure. A man and a woman, working together for a common cause in close quarters, why, that just reminds me of how Jyuyan and I started a long time ago in—"

"You have yet to answer my question."

"Ah! Right," she said. Molam did not like seeing that her earlier flusteredness was gone. "You feel uneasy. Over Primrose," she added in a tone that said full-well she knew she did not need to, but chose to. "And so yes, I'm quite certain the spear wielder I've enlisted—"

"The water thief."

"— will wholeheartedly work towards our victory, given certain assurances I've promised her," the Steward finished, as though Molam had not interrupted her. "And I give you those same assurances — she won't be an issue. So, be at ease!"

"And I'm supposed to believe you based on… what, exactly?" Molam persisted. The more the Steward seemed determined to hide from him, the more he felt compelled to press on. "You haven't even told me a single thing about this unknown person."

"Well, her name is Aliyah."

"And?" Molam waited.

"...and I've given her certain guarantees in exchange for her cooperation."

Molam tapped a finger against the rim of his cup, staring straight at the Steward. They both knew she had merely repeated herself, and Molam had no inclination to circle the same points. Instead, he asked, "And why would a Steward like you protect a water thief?"

"... because she never actually stole any water, and I happen to need her skills, and she needs protection? Do you want a spear wielder or not? Or have you given up on this Game?"

The latter two were obvious to Molam, but the first tidbit was more curious. "Interesting. What do you mean, she never stole any water? Did she not break into a reservoir?"

The Steward's face went cold. "This is a matter for Oasis to deal with," she said with a thin smile. "I'm only concerned with working on our deal, which seems to be something you refuse to commit to for now. The Water Game will be held in four days, and Primrose can seek out Jyuyan if she wants to practice in the meantime. I'm a busy woman, so unless you have any further topics of mutual interest, I think it best you go enjoy the sights Oasis has to offer."

Molam recognized the dismissal and chose not to pressure further. Standing up, he finished the rest of his water before setting it down carefully, maintaining eye contact with the Steward.

"Thank you for your time, Steward Ryu."

Shiki the cat padded along with his legs.

Office of the Steward of the Upper Tiers

"You are certain."

"Yes, Steward." Fa'ryn bowed her head. Some of her hair flopped forward, still wet from her bath. Steward Clayton always gave her the leisure to be presentable in front of him, but she knew it was more for him than for her. She hadn't dared to go through more than a cursory scrub and rinse before making a more-than-leisurely stroll to her father's office, rubbing scented eucalyptus oil onto her neck and wrists along the way.

"So," Steward Clayton began by running his finger against his desk. Ebony mahogany, real wood. A pricey piece, even among the other rare wooden furniture in Oasis. Rumors said the Fontayneer family head had commissioned a wooden desk, but had carefully chosen a different color so as to not give offense to Steward Clayton. "Not only does this Molam carry the Oracle's color, but you are also telling me he has received control over all three mursashu caravans."

"Temporarily, it seems," agreed Fa'ryn. "But yes. An opportunity, just as you asked me to look for."

"A potentially dangerous one." The Steward pressed his fingers together, deep in thought. "But only if we assume the Oracle would take action."

"The Oracle did nothing when the Empire's Prince fought the Frozen Saint," Fa'ryn urged. "And now her first vessel has been left languishing in the Blue Rose for multiple decades. There is no reason to believe she will show a different response."

He did not acknowledge her immediately, but Fa'ryn always associated his silence with contemplation. Eventually, he stood up and walked over to the edge of the room, where water trickled down the walls in a perpetual flow into the pond lining all around the office itself. The Steward dug his fingers into a pot, then spread feeding flakes into the water. Live fish poked their heads out from beneath water lilies, congregating onto the surface with their gulping mouths poking at the floating food. Koi, Fa'ryn remembered the name of these things. The mursashu had charged an incredible cost for the initial batch of live imports.

Incredible craftsmanship had been commissioned for this water feature, a design initially presented to House Reyvint's matriarch on her three hundredth nameday. The attending Steward Clayton had been intrigued by the concept, asking Ayn Reyvint if she could gift the design to him instead. Ayn had had a copy of the design made for each of the guests in attendance. Despite the wide availability of blueprints, no other person had built a room like this one out of deference to Steward Clayton.

The Steward in question rubbed his hands over the water, ensuring no residue remained before speaking again. "Be that as it may… we need to understand his relationship with the mursashu. Last Summer's Warmth, I thought the Oracle's new vessel could be ignored so long as he did not involve our people in her machinations."

The Steward paused, seemingly inspecting his desk without truly looking at it. "However, changing circumstances require a second consideration. An opportunity should be commensurate with the weight of the risk. There are far too many unknowns at this moment. Is he of mursashu blood? Is he protected by Diyah's Will? What else do we not know about this Molam?" He splashed a cup of water over some stones positioned under a glass pane focusing the Sun's light; the liquid sizzled on the hot stones and a small rainbow shone over it. The act was both artform and a way to spread humidity in the room. "Find out how much they will put their trust and efforts in him. It would do us no good if we move too swiftly and end up violating the mursashu agreement with our Lord."

Fa'ryn bowed her head. "I will look into it, including anything we can use to gain leverage. I've already set several people on the matter of looking into his background, but this will be difficult now that it's unlikely the mursashu will exchange that information even for pay."

"Find out what you can. No plan is ever perfect. I hear the organization he's part of, this so-called Dao cabal —" Steward Clayton wrinkled his nose at the name. Fa'ryn understood; whoever had come up with the name must have been an alchemist. "—will be participating in the upcoming Water Game. I doubt they'll risk someone so important in the Game itself, so our target will mingle with the onlookers. If I am distracted with pleasantries from the other two Stewards, I expect you to do what needs to be done."

Fa'ryn nodded. The weight of the ambiguous request hung around her neck, but she straightened her back. Results were expected.

The Steward continued, "Now, regarding the Water Game. What did you find for me, regarding the participants?"

After a moment of thinking, Fa'ryn replied, "Both Marshals refused to lend anyone on active duty for our efforts, stating this would be seen as interfering with an issue between Stewards. I have arranged a shortlist of possible combatants fitting the roles of spear wielder, a shield bearer, and sword caller." When he didn't say anything, Fa'ryn added, "I can be responsible for choosing the team if you prefer to focus on the other matters at hand. Moreover, we can establish friendly relationships with the ones maintaining the Arena, though the Sand Keepers are trying to maintain strict neutrality."

"Don't bother the Sand Keepers. For all else, do what you need to win the Water Game if possible, so long as we win. Ryu wants a degree of level-ness and Jyori desires rules for equality, neither of which can last indefinitely. The young are eternally misdirected by false hopes and unsustainable desires, not knowing that water must flow or become stagnant. More importantly, focus on the matter of the Oracle's vessel once the Game is in motion." Steward Clayton clasped his hands behind his back as he peered out a side window giving him a perfect view of the Black Pyramid, now golden. "Did you put together a proposal for the matter of the dragon?"

"Yes. It was delivered to your desk this morning," Fa'ryn indicated to the corner where she'd placed the plans. They remained untouched.

"Hmm. You work faster than I remember," said Steward Clayton as he picked it up, thumbing the parchment with an absent-mindedness. Fa'ryn felt her cheeks flush at the rare praise. "Sometimes the days do blend together. I sometimes can't believe you're a Steward's assistant now."

"I only hope this helps you deal with the pressures from the Houses," Fa'ryn replied. The tense situation in the Upper Tiers had worsened now that the supply of jade was dwindling with no immediate plans to resume mining it. Those who did not want to or have the talent to train in auramancy were being reminded of their fragile mortality, and they did not like it. Not one bit.

"We'll add one more option," said Steward Clayton as he read through the various plans she'd proposed. Fa'ryn looked up in confusion. Trade, treaty, exchange, barter; she'd thought of everything they could do to secure a steady supply of jade with the new dragon blocking their way. "Come up with a proposal to control the Pyramid."

Fa'ryn blinked, unsure if her ears were still full of bathwater. "Control the Pyramid?" she asked, cautiously. It wouldn't do for her to accidentally put words into her Steward's mouth.

"Yes," Steward Clayton confirmed idly. "If we win the Water Game, we can ask our Lord to personally make a move. I understand this seems to be a young dragon. Our Lord has already participated in killing the oldest of them all."

Oasis. Lower Tiers, Cayn and Aybel's

Molam could not hold in his laughter at Kalle's getup when he finally showed up. Being tall and burly was already an issue for the Northerner, but being bundled up in robes, a hood, and a mask only made the whole look seem all the more comical.

"Are you done cackling like a young raven," Kalle said crossly. His voice was muffled from behind the mask. "I'm suffocating in this getup."

"I'm sorry," Molam said, wiping away a tear that had already half-dried on his cheek. "But you look like one of those ragdolls village girls have. Just… a lot…" he almost snickered, covering his expression of mirth, "bigger!"

An expression of blatant unimpressedness could be seen on what little showed of Kalle's face. "And this stupid idea of yours is supposed to help me how?"

Molam sobered up immediately, helping arrange the hood to cover Kalle's straw-colored hair. "It's to make sure you don't get the wrong attention. We can pass you off as someone with a horrendous skin disease so you're trying to insulate your skin from the drying air. We can say the bulkyness is just oiled bandages."

"I'm taller than most Oasians," Kalle pointed out. "And, we're in the Domain of the Lord of Sands. He's probably aware of this conversation as we speak."

Molam grimaced at the reminder. "Can't do anything about that besides hope he's either distracted or equally amused. As for the height… well, unless you are open to the option of cutting off your legs…"

"Forget it," Kalle grunted. The man shuffled a few steps, testing his movements and balance in the robes. "Just tell me what we're going out for."

"To explore the marketplace, get to know the sights, and give you a chance to take a look at what we're working with," said Molam as he led the way out of the inn. He grabbed Kalle's elbow so the man could follow him. The combination of hood and mask must be limiting the Northerner's vision, and Molam imagined he'd need to act as a guide. "And, I want to go visit the banks to make a withdrawal or account transfer."

"That last one seems to be the most important one," Kalle muttered suspiciously. "No Primrose?"

"Oh it is the biggest reason for this outing," Molam agreed. "Primrose is practicing sparring with her fellow fighters for the upcoming Game." He looked around to make sure no one was within earshot, then whispered to Kalle. "You know how we've been hearing about a recent water heist, where people broke into a reservoir? I just heard no water was actually taken."

Kalle stared. "...and are you hoping to talk about this with the banks?" the man asked slowly, clearly trying to understand why Molam was interested in this. "Perhaps learn how they managed to ensure no water was taken?"

"No," answered Molam as he tugged Kalle along. "I want to confirm something the Mursa have long wondered: do banks actually have as much water as they claim?"

"Hence the withdrawal or account transfer."

"A multibillion bucket withdrawal," Molam confirmed. He led the way, covering up his face so the two of them blended in with the Oasians. "Remember the question we need to answer: Where is the water flowing, Kalle?"

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