And 3!
Metamor Keep: Investigating Calamity
By Charles Matthias
March 15, 708 CR
The uproar
over their arrival was not diminished come the morning Liturgy.
Though it was not the Sunday High Liturgy, nevertheless, a large number
of Followers gathered in the Cathedral to discover if the rumours were
true. Father Akaleth was asked to assist and he was the first
priest in the processional, humble with head bowed low, carrying
nothing. When he reached the high altar he waited until the
Cardinal arrived. The dark-skinned Akaleth was a mere shadow next
to the towering figure of Cardinal Bertu. And the resplendent
purple of Bertus attire made him vanish even further into the background
if it were possible.
Despite
this, all eyes were upon him as he sat and held the book of prayer for
Bertu, attending to his crozier and mitre with the studied obedience of a
long-time altar boy. He never missed a cue and never looked at the
congregation who could not wrest their attention from him.
When the
time of the Homily came, Cardinal Bertu spoke a brief message on the
readings, then made mention of their guests. Of Akaleth and
Czestadt he said few words except to reassure those here that their
mission was to aid the guild and not to bring discord. But for
Kashin he spared no praise. The very man who had sought justice for
the Patriarchs murder; indeed the very man who had been there and the
first to cradle the Patriarchs body on that rain slick night in the
cold. Many openly wept. And afterwards, many approached
desirous of only touching Kashins cloak. He endured their
adulation with only the slightest of discomfort.
Father
Akaleth, after the Liturgy, quietly complimented the Cardinal on his
gambit but otherwise said nothing. Sir Czestadt said nothing except
the required prayers during the Liturgy. Kashin was asked for
stories of the Patriarch and Yesulam and all the others strange places
hed seen but could only apologize to the many who yearned to get close
to him.
No more
than ten minutes after the Liturgy concluded, they were met just outside
the cathedral by a compliment of Caial, Elizabeth Lumas, and several
others she identified as mages. Together they were marched along
side streets to the Mages Guild. The guild towers were a complex
on the northern end of the Grand Plaza, a wide open terrazzo filled with
statues and fountains, with many wandering vendors but no merchant
stalls. People came to commiserate, all in the shadow of the
Ecclesia Cathedral, the Rebuilder Cathedral, the Lightbringer Temple, and
the Mages Guild. Not a one of the religious structures had open
doors, each sealed shut like children who refused to talk.
To none of
their surprise, they were led into the guild towers through a side door
and brought into well-apportioned antechamber lit brightly by lamps and
witchlights hidden within stained glass receptacles. The diffuse
light cast a comfortable glow about the room that seemed to sooth their
senses.
Elizabeth
waited with them, but the other mages were only gone a moment before a
well-dressed man with greying hair and a stern demeanour entered through
a pair of mahogany double doors. I am Master Demarest, he said
nodding to the three of them, his voice cordial despite his fixed
countenance. For today we would like to interview you separately and one
at a time.
Parted
from Father Akaleth I will not be, Sir Czestadt declared with the
stubborn tenacity of a mule.
Akaleth
put one hand on the Yesbearns elbow and shook his head. There is
nothing to fear here. We are in the house of our hosts. They
will see to our safety. I insist you allow them to conduct their
investigation as they see fit.
Demarests
eyes lifted in surprise, but said nothing. Czestadt scowled but
finally nodded to the Questioner. Akaleth turned to the head mage
and bowed his head once. Forgive his zealousness. You were
saying?
Well,
yes. We will interview you one at a time today. The others
will wait here where they will be provided food and rest, but you will
have to remain here. Kashin, we would like to speak with you
first. If youll come with us we can begin.
Demarest
and Elizabeth led the Yeshuel through the double doors down a hallway
with several doors each marked with arcane symbols. They ascended a
set of tower stairs before reaching another door. The Guild Master
drew a sigil across the front and the doors opened inward like the spine
of a book falling open.
Beyond lay
a circular room with windows on every side. Through each he could
see more of the city, towers, homes, cathedrals, and far to the north a
large castle. A modestly sized circular table occupied the centre
of the room, and eight comfortable chairs were arranged around it in a
circle so that no chair had more prominence than any other. Kashin
also noted that all eight chairs lay on compass directions. Five
Guild members were already there, and they stood as the trio
entered. Four men of varying ages and a woman with blonde hair so
bright that Kashin was sure it could not be natural.
Demarest
nodded to them in turn and gestured for Kashin to take the southeastern
seat. Bread, cheese, and some wine will be brought in shortly.
Please make yourself comfortable and we can begin.
Kashin
scanned them all once before taking his seat. Comfortable with a
patchwork design featuring a dragon of some variety. He flicked the
white lock of hair from his face and then studied the mages.
Elizabeth and Demarest sat in the western and northwestern seats
respectively. In the northern seat was an older man with white
beard and a stern almost sarcastic glint in his eyes. He dressed in
a long blue robe inscribed with stars and other celestial figures.
He reminded Kashin of some of the mystics who lived along the eastern
banks of the Yurdon.
Next to
him in the northeastern seat was the woman with blonde hair. Her
face was timeless, no wrinkles, but she did not appear to be young
either. She was slender and posed with sharp features like an
eagles. Her eyes were almost a bright a blue as her hair was
blonde. Her lavender gown did not even attempt in disguising her
chests ample qualities.
To
Kashins immediate right was a younger man with red hair and a bright
smile that belied the trio of long scars on his cheek. He for one
seemed to dress like a normal person with plain tunic and breeches and a
woolen cloak that hed drawn over his legs and shoulders. And to
Kashins left was a middle-aged man with an unlit pipe firmly clenched
between his wide, puffy lips. Bushy eyebrows that looked likely to
get up and crawl away arched as he looked at the Yeshuel.
Another
older man sat in the southwestern seat. He had a beard, still
peppered with grey and black, and hair that was devoutly coiffured.
He bore a doublet and hose bearing some noble insignia, as well as a
torque of gold and silver. He did not even deign to look at Kashin,
the only one of the entire cast who didnt.
Demarest
smiled faintly and rested his hands on his knees. Allow me to extend our
welcome to Marigund, Kashin of the Yeshuel. I am Demarest, the
Guild Master. With me today are Masters Bartholomew, he gestured
to the old man in the starry blue robe and continued to the left,
Diomedra, Chalcus, Massenet, and Sir Alexander Rivers. And you
already know Elizabeth Lumas. We represent those most familiar with
the affairs of Marzac or those who may need what information you can tell
us. We are of diverse disciplines and so do not worry that you may
not understand the import of all the questions you are asked. They
may not have meaning to you but we ask you to remember as best you can
what you saw and experienced.
He leaned
back and attempted another smile to set Kashin at ease. But the
Yeshuel was already at ease having identified for himself those amongst
the mages who were most likely to be friendly and those who would never
find a kind word for him. He did smile and asked as warmly as he
could, Where would you like me to begin?
At the
beginning, Demarest replied. When did you first become involved with
the affairs of Marzac?
Kashin
rubbed his hand over the stump of his left arm and grimaced. That I know
all too well. It was the night that Patriarch Akabaieth was
assassinated and his retinue slaughtered almost to a man. I was one
of only three survivors, and I do not know what has happened to the other
two. But of that night I remember much. We left Metamor
earlier that day, and were delayed by foul weather. It was
October. The year 706. It had begun raining late in the
afternoon and so we found a sheltered area off the road and settled in
for the night as best we could. I was on patrol with my fellow
Yeshuel Iosef. Knights were patrolling as well. Akabaieth was
safe in his carriage, or so we thought.
He paused
as the vividness of the memory filled him. With a heavy sigh he
continued. Iosef and I saw something in the woods nearby and went to
investigate. There was a man dressed as a Sondecki of the black
waiting for us. We accosted him, and then he flung his hands in
what the Sondecki refer to as the Longfugos technique. Are you
familiar with it?
Massenet
nodded slowly, lips moving around the pipe, I know of it from my
studies. Go on.
I jumped
to the side while Iosef tried to diffuse the energy. Only it wasnt
what we expected. A wall of black fire engulfed us. I lost my
arm. Iosef was seared in half. I passed out from the pain and
when I awoke it was all over. The Sondecki had murdered everyone,
or at least tried. I found the Patriarch a short distance away with
a Sathmoran blade buried in his chest. This blade. He drew the
golden blade from its scabbard and laid it on the table before
them. All eyes were pulled to it, gathered by curiosity and by
enigma.
It does
appear to be Sathmoran in construction, Chalcus opined with a nod of his
head. I can see some sort of strange magic about it. Im not quite
sure what it is.
I believe
I can explain that too, Kashin said. He laughed and shook his
head. No, I dont believe I can explain it, but I can tell you what
happened even if it still makes little sense to me.
Continue
to tell us what happened, Demarest prodded after lifting his eyes from
the blade. Bartholomew stroked his long beard and gazed intently at
the blade. The rest looked at Kashin.
I took
the sword, discovered that Bishop Vinsah and Sir Yacoub Egland were still
alive. The Metamorians arrived then and we had them bring Vinsah
and Egland to Metamor where they stayed and suffered the touch of the
Curse. I took the sword and left, intent on finding the Sondecki
who killed the Patriarch. I was met in the Follower Cathedral of
Ellcaran by a very strange man who told me his master could provide
answers and a direction. This man was Andares-es-sebashou of the
Åelf.
The
Åelf! Alexander Rivers barked incredulously. They havent been seen for
hundreds of years. And yet one just walked up to you in a
church?
That is
what happened. He guided me through the various lands of the
Midlands and brought me to the Åelfwood and an ancient city therein
called Ava-shavåis.
Rivers
snorted again, his face red. Outrageous! That city is
legend. No human has been there in millennia.
Kashin
shrugged his one shoulder. I was told that I was the second human to go
there in the last ten years. I do not know who the first was.
Andares brought me to the tower and chamber of Qan-af-årael who it the
Lord of Colours for his people. He instructed me in the history of
Jagoduun and how its power was responsible for Patriarch Akabaieths
death.
Rivers
shook his head, but the rest, apart from Bartholomew who was transfixed
by the sword, stared at each other dumbfounded. Elizabeth finally
loosened her tongue to ask in an awed voice. You want to the Åelfwood
and Ava-shavåis and met an Åelf whose name is spoken of over two-thousand
years ago?
Diomedra
gasped in her eagerness. You must tell us more! What was the
Åelfwood and city like?
Kashin
described it as best he was able. They pestered him with questions
of flora and fauna, Diomedra especially, and then proceeded onto
inquiries after the Åelf, their customs, their appearance, their
language, every little detail he could possibly remember. He had to
admit ignorance to many of their questions, but those he did answer only
fuelled their curiosity. An insatiable hunger for knowledge of a
land closed to them gripped them and would not let go.
The
promised bread, cheese, and wine was brought during this portion of his
interview, but he was reduced to shoving morsels into his mouth as soon
as he answered a question as the next would come too quickly. When
questions turned to Qan-af-årael, he did his best to relate the tale of
Jagoduun he was told and how that ancient evil had conspired to kill
Akabaieth. What surprised him was that they didnt seem as
interested in the first actual part of his journey that dealt directly
with Marzac.
Kashin,
unable to stand it anymore, set the half a loaf of bread hed been eating
aside and shook his head. You sought information about the activities of
Marzac. Yet now that I am here and I have mentioned some of the
history I learned from Qan-af-årael, you are more interested in asking
about what the Åelf wear. I will not be used as a conduit of your
curiosity into that ancient people. I will speak no more of them
except what they have told me of Marzac.
But it is
important for us to learn of them, Diomedra said, blue eyes bright and
eager. We mean them no harm, but you we must learn more of them.
Then do
it another way, Kashin replied. Do you not care of Marzac?
The
threat from Marzac is gone, Chalcus said with a half-apologetic shrug.
Or so we think. But the Åelf are still here.
If you
care not about Marzac, Kashin said as he stood, then I and my
companions have no reason to be here or to talk with you.
Elizabeth
lifted one hand and smiled. Forgive our curiosity. You are
right. We wanted to learn more about what Marzac did at
Yesulam. But also in how you came to fight it there. We have
so little information about Ava-shavåis, our curiosity got the better of
us. Please, continue with your tale. We shall ask of that city or
its people no more.
Some of
the others, Diomedra in particular, appeared to think Elizabeth mad, but
they complied. Kashin related the tale of Prince Yajakalis descent
into madness and the forging of the three artifacts, the Dais, the
Censer, and the Sword. He spoke of the nine human mages whose lives
these artifacts were meant to destroy, and of the actual destruction they
wrought. Others would be tasked with destroying Marzac, but their
allies in Yesulam were for Kashin and it was to them that Qan-af-årael
sent him.
They still
did not ask for many additional details, but at least they allowed him to
finish. He sighed as he glanced at the sword which the
white-bearded mage had not stopped staring at. He finished off the
loaf of bread and continued. I began to cross the Flatlands, but I
succumbed to the winter and was rescued by a band of Magyars. I was
inducted into their ranks and travelled with them toward the east.
And I will explain why I am no longer a Magyar if you will kindly
wait.
Forgive
me, Massenet said with a chuckle and a look of admiration. It is just
that we have never a man who has once been a Magyar but is no
longer. What we know of them assures us that those who join them in
their wagons never leave.
Normally
that is true, Kashin admitted, and it still is. The Magyar half
of myself is still a Magyar. He knew he shouldnt enjoy their look of
confusion, but he did. For after on month in their company, we came to a
place that frightened them greatly. I still do not understand it,
but I had to climb it. And when I did, I was... I... I climbed
Cenziga.
Cenziga?
Chalcus asked. What is that?
Massenet
and Sir Rivers glanced at each other and shrugged. Elizabeth pursed
her lips and Demarest scowled so fiercely that the wine hed drunk wished
it could curdle. Chalcus gaped and began to stammer
incoherently. Diomedra cocked her head to one side, blonde hair
curling over her shoulders in a dumbstruck pose. But the blue-robed
Bartholomew finally looked up, smiling wide. I knew it! This blade
has a twin! A Cenziga made twin!
Kashin
blinked and turned on the mage. You know of Cenziga?
I read
about it in an ancient manuscript obtained from lost Carethedor many,
many years ago. And in those days of my youth, I risked a journey
to where Cenziga was rumoured to be. I did not find it. But
you have! How delightful! So your twin is now a Magyar?
Kashin
nodded. Nemgas. Or so he was called. Cenziga did not twin
us, nor did it twin this blade. It was, very strange for the next
eight months. He explained how he had been hidden deep within Nemgas and
how his memories of that time were Nemgass and not his own. Most
of the mages could only stumble over their questions, but Bartholomews
were always clear and helped Kashin understand better what it was that he
recalled of that terrible mount. The old mage even became wistful
at several points.
I do wish
I could have at least visited Carethedor. What a wondrous city that
must have been, and even still is, to see!
Nemgas
saw it. We even found the grave of Pelain who died there and who
brought many of its artifacts to traders from Cheskych.
And that
is how we learned of the World Bell, Bartholomew finished. He
sighed with delight and lowered his eyes. Ah, Kashin. Tell me
more. Tell me more!
And he
did.
----------
Father Akaleth
spent his time waiting in prayer with Sir Czestadt and once completed, he
took it upon himself to further the knights instruction in the common
tongue of Galendor. He understood what was said to him without
difficulty, but his sentence structure was atrocious and confusing to
northern ears. But the position of his words made sense to the
southern tongue which is why he insisted on speaking as he did.
You see,
Father Akaleth said in Galendish, the southern tongues were all the
invention of man. But the northern tongues all have some kinship
with the ancient elves and their ilk who long ago dominated this
continent. It is in the wisdom of Eli that the ancient Suielish
allows for the verb to be mobile. In that, the Ecclesia bridges the
divide between both man and elf and all other creature, for the word of
the Spirit Most Holy is understood by all in their native tongue.
Sir
Czestadt frowned and with great concentration managed to ask, So why
arent there any elves in the Ecclesia?
But
Akaleth only waved one finger to chide him gently. There arent any
yet. But, you spoke well and your ordered your words
properly. Now... His voice trailed off as a woman of middle age
who appeared to have had numerous children stepped into the room rather
nervously. Greetings child, Father Akaleth said. Is there aught we can
do for you?
She did
not tremble at the sight of his attire, but she did seem to have trouble
looking at either of them. It is midday, masters, and time to eat.
Are you eating special foods?
Father
Akaleth wondered for a moment at the oddity of the question, then
recalled the laws this city had. He smiled and with complete
sincerity replied, Thank you for your consideration. We are both
observing the Season of Penance and cannot partake of meat.
At the
liturgical words her eyes shot up in alarm. But she quickly nodded
and said, I will bring you some bread and cheese then, masters. She
hastily left.
Sir
Czestadt poked the still smiling Akaleth in the side. And dont pretend
you didnt enjoy that.
Akaleth
winced and then lowered his head. I fear that I did. Dear
me. And your Galendish is certainly improving. Let us
continue. Theres no knowing how much longer poor Kashin will be in
there with the mages.
The
Yesbearn grunted as the lesson resumed.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
!DSPAM:4c97e915230431398310010!
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