The Silver Sparrow

My Favorite Son

The city of Rasharwi came alive at night to the sound of bells from the four sanctuaries of Rashar. It began at sunset with the silver bell at the temple of Sabha to the west of the city, followed by the southern sanctuary of Suma, then the northern bell tower at Suri, before the golden, most elaborately ornate bell of Sangi Sanctuary to the east joined the procession, rising above the lesser three to finish announcing the departure of the sun god for the day. The four bells would be rung simultaneously until the last light disappeared, during which time the residents of Rasharwi would begin illuminating their streets and homes in preparation for the end of day prayer. In the morning, the ritual would begin again, starting at Sangi, to announce the return of Rashar at sunrise.

At the heart of the city, protected by the four strongholds of Sangi, Suma, Suri, and Sabha stood the Black Tower of Rasharwi. The iconic royal residence of the salar owed its name to the obsidian-filled, black mountain out of which the rooms and halls had been carved amongst its jagged, rocky surface. Standing twice as high above all other towers of the city, the intimidating beauty of the Black Tower had been one of the most notorious and distinguished landmarks of the continent for centuries. There was a common saying, that life in the Salasar was not complete until one witnessed the majesty of the Black Tower and prayed to the sound of the four great bells of Rasharwi. It was the strength of the continent, the power around which all things rotated, the place where histories were made and the fates of men were decided. The center of the universe for those who resided in the Salasar.

At the very peak of such a mountain, in a chamber carved at the very edge of a cliff to accommodate an unobstructed view stretching far beyond the walls of Sabha, towards the glowing ivory mountains of the White Desert, stood the one man who held the power over the rise and fall of cities and empires. The tall, straight-backed, square-shouldered man in his mid-forties showed no signs of age beyond the streaks of gray among the otherwise jet black hair and the fine lines that seemed to have added more wisdom than years to the hard features of his face. Standing on the very edge of the balcony of his chamber with nothing between him and the plunging depths below, the salar of Rasharwi appeared to have been carved out of a rock —a solid statue that could not be moved or swayed by the wind that rushed through the opening. His eyes, deep set and in a piercing shade of blue, were fixed somewhere in the far distance as the last light of Rashar began to fade from the horizon and torches were being lit in the city down below.

Jarem izr Sa'id, Commander in Chief of the royal army and right hand man of the salar, tugged lightly on his fur-lined robe as he stood in front of the desk, waiting to be acknowledged. Depending on his mood and what was on his mind, the paralyzing silence the salar required before acknowledging the subjects he had summoned could last anywhere from a few breaths to the time it took one to climb the Black Tower on foot. Clarity of thoughts was important when one ruled such an empire, and ideas were too precious to be lost by meaningless interruptions. Cities had been built or sacked from these moments of silence, and men had been thrown, understandably, out that open balcony for breaking them.

"I'm listening, Jarem." The command had been smooth and lacking emotion. As always, he didn't turn from the balcony. This was, of course, deliberately done. One did not usually get to observe his expressions during report sessions, not until decisions had been firmly made, and by then he would have already finished putting aside all emotions relating to it.

Jarem took a step forward, sketched a bow, and began the ritual of reporting the important events that occurred in the salar's absence. These visits to the four strongholds and the provinces beyond them usually lasted four to six weeks at a time, more if there were problems to be dealt with. During which time Jarem would be put in charge of overseeing Rasharwi, making sure everything was in order, and that his projects progressed as planned. Upon the salar's return, Jarem would be summoned to make sure the salar was up to date with the information that would allow him to resume command seamlessly.