Here is the third and final part of the story. It raises more questions and wraps up the story.
Chris The Lurking Fox "And with that the axe traveled north." "A History of the Five Sisters." A Marigund Mages Guild Publication Marigund City, Marigund, 1007 CR. "The axe, Borelli, my ancestor. All of them are tied together somehow," Misha commented. Cecelia Armhurst sat down at her desk. "But how?" The mage and the Metamor scout leader were alone in the small but well appointed office she had as the head historian for the Mages guild. Misha shook his head. "I don't know. My family's attempts to track my ancestor's path has failed. As has the Borelli clan's attempt to discover more about their ancestor. And the axe herself will not reveal any information. For reasons she refuses to disclose." "So those avenues of research are closed to us." She was quiet for a moment. "Perhaps you are looking at it from the wrong direction. Instead of trying to track your ancestor and Sir Borelli and their path north. Go after the axe. If you can find where the axe was then you'll find your connection to Sir Borelli and the elder Misha." Cecelia walked over to a shelf and pulled down a small wooden chest. It was barely two feet long, by a foot high and wide and was bound with steel straps and hardware. Removing a key from a pouch on her belt she unlocked the box. "The guild has been keeping an eye on your axe. We've been trying to study all five of the sisters ever since the elder Misha brought the axe to Marigund. With mixed results." She opened the box and took out a large, brown leather bound book. "I'll admit that much of the axe's history has been based on information you've given us," she said and smiled sheepishly. "What do you know? Where was the axe before Great Grandpa found it?" Misha asked. She turned back several pages. "The last know owner before him was Liscus Cathadinus. He was in . . . ," she paused and looked at the document again. "Daramantia in -119CR." Misha winced. "That's a gap of over six hundred years." "Our history of all of the sisters is fragmentary at best," she explained. "We are lucky to have a letter mentioning that Liscus Cathadinus was nicknamed Nigrum Securis. Which translates as Black Axe. So it is an intelligent assumption that he had the axe at that time." "Cathadinus," Misha said slowly. "That name isn't familiar. Do you know anything about him? Who was he?" "He was of the equites class. Which is roughly equivalent to knighthood or of the lower nobility but the comparison is limited," the woman answered. "The only other information we have of him was that he was a Duplicarius in the army." "He was a soldier?" Misha leaned closer to the woman. "What unit was he in?" She looked at an entry in the book for a moment. "The 12th Victrix legion." Misha stiffened. "That's how the axe got north." Cecelia looked up from the book. "Oh?" "The 12th was at Metamor in 150 when the invasion happened," Misha answered. "Everyone at Metamor has heard about their ferocious last stand." She closed the book and gently placed it back into the box. "Could the axe have still been there over 260 years later?" Misha shrugged. "I'm not sure but it gives me more information than I had before." The historian locked the box and placed it back on the shelf it had come from. "To be honest Misha the Guild has been studying the axe for almost a century. Any information on her in Marigund would be here in this book. And there is nothing here on the period you are looking for." He nodded his head slowly. "The 12th might be little known here but they are famous at Metamor. Caroline is actually descended from a 12th legion soldier." "Caroline is descended from a legionnaire?" The woman asked with a look of surprise on her face. "I didn't think anyone from the legion survived the invasion." Misha shook his head. "The legion fought to the death but their families managed to get to safety. At least most of them." "How?" "What?" The vulpine looked at her, puzzled. "How did they survive?" Cecelia sat down at her desk. "I mean, it's a narrow valley. Not too many places to hide." He opened his mouth to answer but didn't speak for a moment. "I . . 1 honestly don't know." The historian smiled then her face grew serious. "I am interested in answers to all those questions but you will not find them here in Marigund." "North," Misha said slowly. He turned and looked in that direction as if he could see through the stone walls and across the thousand miles distance to Metamor. "All the leads take me north to Metamor and the Giantdowns." ********************* In Pyralis, Pyralian Confederation Pyralis was a city of many contrasts. It was an old city - her history stretching far back into the misty legends of the distant past. And yet it had many new buildings and was growing. Already there were good sized communities outside its massive city walls. Its many piers, wharves and docks played host to the countless ships that came and went all the time. Many built in the city's own shipyard. Located in a relatively quiet section of the city was a complex of buildings. The neighborhood was neither the richest nor the poorest but it was among the oldest and one that had its own protective walls. Even if those walls were over a thousand years old they were strong and provided extra protection. It was also far enough from the water to be away from the warehouses and granaries that fueled the city's commerce. The complex was itself rather plain looking. Two towers, one only some fifty feet tall and another over a hundred feet tall had a dozen smaller buildings clustered around them. A stone wall surrounded the property. Being some fifteen feet tall and five feet wide it told everyone that the occupants took security seriously. But it told nothing about what was inside. There were many such walls in the city. They surrounded manors and mansions and had been built by nobleman who valued their privacy. As such those were meant to simply keep out stray animals and drunks. But looks could be deceiving and in this case they were for this was the High Sept (or main headquarters) of the Cunaha Rede. When the old Suielman empire shattered under the Lutin invasion so did it's people and organizations. One was the Virtut Secturum. Little is really known of organization save that it was devoted to magic. Few of its members survived the invasion but those that did devoted themselves to preserving and recovering the knowledge lost. So as the Outer Midlands has the Marigund Mages Guild and Sathmore has the Arenul Ceen, the Pyralian Confederation has the Cunaha Rede. The name Cunaha Rede translates as We Endure. It's an appropriate one. For when the Lutin invasion was finally driven back in 153 CR the number of Virtut Secturum mages in Pyralis who had survived could literally be counted on the fingers of one hand. The signs on the surrounding wall read 'Trespassers will die," and citizens of the city understood the occupants meant it. During the day the place was alive with mages, students and servants going about their business. But at night it was far different. None but the invited or the suicidal crossed that wall in darkness. But getting invited in was easy - just knock at the front gate. It was early evening and the complex was quiet. Students and servants had long ago been dismissed till the next day. The complex looked empty with the courtyard barren, windows shuttered and doors locked and bolted. The only sign of life was two men standing guard at the front gate. The two sentries noted the horse and rider as they came up the street. As the new arrivals came closer the guards were able see that the rider was wearing the black clothing of a member of the clergy. The horse came to a stop in front of the gate and her rider dismounted. The rider was indeed a priest of the Follower faith. His brown hair was cut short and his clothing was simple black cloth as dictated by his order. "Good evening," the priest said. "Father Notariano wishes to speak with Grobmeister Notariano." The one guard bowed deeply. "Please follow me Father." ************* The office of the leader of the Cunaha Rede was on the first floor of a brick and stone building that looked more like a barn than the home of a magical organization. The office itself was of middling size - slightly larger than the workshop of the average craftsman. The furniture was of high quality and of a dark colored wood that was only lightly carved and decorated. One could easily see that the two were related in the sweep of the cheekbones and the set and color of their eyes. Only their hair was markedly different. The mage's was a dark brown and longer. The mage's well tailored clothing were colored a dark burgundy, was edged with silver and had gold flowers embroidered on it. "It's good to see you Philippe!" He said honestly and hugged the priest. "How are you doing my brother?" "I am doing well. How are you doing Vincent? How are Balthild and your children?" The priest asked. Vincent sat in a soft, leather chair. "Thankfully all four are doing well." He answered. The man paused for a moment. "Have you heard the news from Marigund?" "You mean about the automaton they found?" The mage asked as he face brightened. "Indeed I have. Amazing!" "It seems the creature was in pieces all over the city." the priest explained. "They simply collected them and just put her back together. One piece was actually being using as a frying pan in the kitchens! Can you imagine that? Something so valuable being used as a common cooking implement!" Notariano settled into a chair opposite his brother's. "Amazing! So it was hidden in plain sight." "Indeed. That brings me to the reason for my visit," the cleric said and paused. "Cardinal Bertu has been dealing with the issue in Marigund but he has been asking for any information we might have," the priest answered. "Unfortunately we have little except for a few stories that really can only be called wild legend." "That's not surprising," the mage added. "You're organization dates from before the fall of the empire does it not?" "It does," the mage answered with pride. "It is the direct continuation of the old Seuilman Virtut Secturum." The cleric scowled slightly. "So you would have records from back then?" The mage slowly nodded his head. "We might indeed. Unfortunately our records are incomplete. Much was lost when the empire collapsed. Too much." "It would be a great service to the Ecclesia and to me personally if we could have all the information you can obtain." "I'll admit we have been following events in Marigund but I did not consider that we might have some information of use. But whatever information we have I will send to you personally." He leaned closer to his sibling. "You do understand the value of such information and the need to keep it secret." "Thank you," the priest said. "And of course I understand the value of it but the Ecclesia needs to make informed decisions." "I can understand that and I will pass along all that we have," the mage responded. "To be honest, although we claim to be a continuation of the Virtut we inherited little from it. Even the building we are in now had to be rebuilt after the invasion." "Has the Cunaha Rede ever dabbled in this automaton magic?"The priest asked in a soft clear tone that was filled with tension. The mage shook his head. "No. We have collected a few bits and pieces over the years but nothing serious. We were considering selling what small pieces we have to the Marigund Guild." "SELLING THEM?" The priest asked, surprised. "Why not? They offered a good price for anything related to automata." The mage responded. "My dear brother. To be honest automata was never a widely used field of magic. Those few who were known to work in it were all put to death when it was banned. There are rumors and myths about various secret societies but those are just that - myths and rumors." "The working automatons in Marigund are not myths, They are very real." "The mage smiled broadly. "Amazing to think they actually survived." He scowled at his brother. "It was banned and all users killed for a reason," the priest said in clipped tones. "You know nothing about automatons except what overblown myths you've heard and already you are condemning it. Cardinal Bertu saw fit to allow them. Are you saying HE is wrong?" The mage snarled. "I . . ." the priest stuttered for a moment. The mages face hardened into a deep scowl. "I don't expect you to agree with me brother. I DO expect you to decide when you are well informed." The cleric pondered his response for a moment. "Fair enough," he said and smiled. The rest of the visit went well and ended with talk of family and the coming holidays. When the door was closed and locked the mage stood there for a moment, lost in thought. Finally he walked back to his desk and sat down. He looked to where a bowl of soup rested. His lunch before being interrupted by his brother's unexpected visit. Gently he picked up the still warm bowl and looked at the trivet it had rested on. He placed the bowl on the desk and examined the trivet more closely. The elaborately decorated piece of metal had been a gift from his wife many years ago. In all the years since he had never really closely examined it. A mistake he intended to rectify immediately. *********************** Carlisle found Misha in the small workshop carefully packing all of his tools. "When are you leaving?" The mage asked. The fox paused in his packing. "Tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to the four day trip." "It's too soon," Carlisle commented. "There is so much left to do." "I know," the fox said. "But I've been away from my duties at Metamor for far too long. I will be back soon enough when things have calmed down. And I'm sure Madog will come and go as he pleases." "Whether we want him to or not," the mage added sarcastically. Misha gave a bark of laughter. "You'll get used to it." "No," the mage countered with a shake of the head. "But I'll learn to deal with it." Misha reached into a pocket and pulled out something. "I have a gift for you," He extended his hand toward the man. The book was barely the size of the palm of the hand it rested in. It's bronze cover had been smoothed and polished to a high glossy shine. The pages were of brass smoothed to the texture of glass. He carefully took the book from Misha. "What is it?" Carlisle asked as he slowly leafed through the metal pages. The writing hadn't been inscribed with a pen, instead they were engraved using a hammer and die. "Madog gave that to me," Misha explained. "And told me to learn. Now I'm giving you a copy and telling you to learn!" "I . . I . . " Carlisle stuttered. "Thank you," he hugged Misha. ******************** There was one last stop to make before leaving Marigund. And for Misha it was the hardest. The entire Brightleaf clan gathered in the courtyard of the family mansion. "If anyone asks about HER," Misha said out loud for all to hear. "I no longer have the axe. I lost her in the Giantdowns." "Which is the truth," Caroline added loudly. "Sort of." She finished in a whisper. The two Keepers spent a long time with each of them all. Hugging them with words of caring and promises to stay in tough. Misha spent a long time hugging his parents. "You'll stay in touch?" Muriel, his mother said. "I will Mom," the vulpine responded. "And don't wait eight years to visit again!" Reuben added. Misha didn't answer at first but simply hugged his father. "I love you both." ************* Nearby, back at the Menomenta Gul Joeline was busy studying. Now as a student at the Guild she found herself fully involved with schooling. There was so much to understand and learn. KLANK! A small metal object dropped onto the table in front of her. It was a tiny book barely as big as her hand. Its bronze cover green with verdigris and covered with a series of mystical symbols. She turned to see Madog sitting next to her. The metal fox looked at her with a surprising intensity. "You start learning NOW!" "What?" She asked, confused. Why?" "Young lady, small mage, big lady, big mage!" Madog said cryptically. The young girl looked from book to fox. "What? I don't understand." "You will," Madog said solemnly "With time." The End
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