Pulling teeth, man! So tired! He'd left his men behind at the capitol and joined the divine father. Together they had donned the ceremonial robes as part of the emperors' train; a march of nearly two hundred souls. From the capitol the emperor's highway ran two hundred and twenty-two leagues due east to the Eastern Pole, where the temple of the Morning Sun sat half-submerged in a coral lagoon. Imperial scholars estimated that the temple sank at the rate of one hand every half-millenia.