SERAVEL ROVODIA, the son of the tyrant Fire Potentate, is a model citizen of all sorts. Obedient, punctual, and most of all, silent. When his friend and long-time confidante gets arrested for alleged sacrilege against the administration, Seravel sta...
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2407 Rab 5, Velpa
Darmer had been right, not that the mechanic had ever been wrong before. Sera walked back from visiting his shop to the Palace an hour before the torches turned their lights off, his fingers already itching to write the next page in his journal.
"You could have given me a larger journal," Sera had complained to Darmer during his visit. "A page the size of my hand wasn't enough."
Darmer had chuckled, running a hand down his stomach. "Finding parchment is not my problem," he said. "I'm sure the palace has a stock of those."
And for real, it did. Sera spent yesterday tracking where the palace stored their inventories. He asked a ton of soldiers, servants, and even the gardener who dropped by every fourth day of the week. When he found what he was looking for, it was safe to say he hadn't anticipated what else he uncovered.
It was still fresh in his mind, even after a whole day spent attending more revolting trials and keeping his mouth shut during the numerous briefings. The inventory, a separate hall down in the lower floors of the palace, was a place of secrets and crimes. It wasn't enough for the Potentate to oppress his own subjects. His own father had to be part of a territory-scale corruption to enrich his own coffers.
The inventory held all of the hidden records of the Potentate's transactions to businesses operating in Lanbridhr. It was common knowledge that for interracial companies to penetrate through Lanbridhr's market they have to pay some fees. It didn't occur to Sera that those fees involved paying the Potentate as well as the territory.
There were more inside the inventory, not just stacks upon stacks of crates filled with versallis of all the different sizes, colors, and shapes. The most Sera had seen was a pile of the largest kalta selme Sera had ever seen. These coins were ones with the highest value used in the island. Where in Daexis's name did they get that much?
He had just shook his head then and grabbed what he needed—a stack of large sheets of parchment made of rhenne fiber. Then, he locked himself in his room and started writing, starting from the records he saw.
Now, he rested his arm over his eyes, the back of his head pressing against the chair's backrest. His lower back throbbed from being slouched for some time but he was too lazy to shift positions. He should have just laid down while he could.
Well, whatever.
Outside, sand and dust from the city beyond the wall blew in huge clouds over the courtyard, influenced by the whistling wind storming through the desert. It was always like that whenever it was going to rain. Up in the inky dark sky where the moons shone in all their glory, the thick sheets of clouds had never looked darker. It was either going to rain tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.
Sera blew a breath, his chest lightened from the heavy load he had been holding back. He could use some cold after a whole month of heat. His siphood succulents could use the drink too. It was important if he wanted them to get better, especially Tillda who was beginning to show signs of wilting. Damn, he hoped those guys could pull through. Perhaps he'd visit them tomorrow if he had the time.
