by Lexy Wolfe
Mureln sat with his head in his hands on the edge of the fountain. Emaris shrugged helplessly, standing aside so Alysha could take his place. "Nikkan tried to tell me something," Mureln said weakly. "But the images... the feelings... everything is so hard for me to grasp. Like trying to grab candle smoke from the air." He looked up at the woman, his eyes haunted. "What did Nikkan do to me?"
Alysha rested her hand against Mureln's brow briefly, sitting back once she was assured that Mureln was unharmed. "He did nothing to you. It is what he did with you, which was shared his memories. Given how long he had been lost to the conscious world, we can only thank the gods that he did not cast you into the maelstrom of the non-corporeal world."
"Ye want me t'fetch Taylin?" Emil asked worriedly, crouching down to stare at Mureln. "I don't be likin' that look in yer eyes."
"It is not a physical affliction a healer can mend," Alysha said regretfully. "And, unfortunately, I cannot recommend you attempting to share what you received from Nikkan until you have a much firmer hold on everything Nikkan imparted to you, else it could risk losing more into the non-corporeal world." She touched the water behind them. "Water is the Timeless one's element. It serves as a medium to share as well as buffer us from the memories of others."
Mureln held up a hand before Emil could argue, sitting up straighter. "I understand. The chaos is..." He shook his head, unable to find any words. "Nikkan's fear of not being able to get his warning to the Dulain is what drove him more than the warning itself, I think." He put his hand to the side of his face again. "No. I know."
"I will have the midday meal brought to us here and I will send for the Dulain so he is aware of... Nikkan's fate." Alysha pursed her lips as she rose. "Adept Mureln, what was that song you sang that brought Nikkan back to us? I have never heard its like."
Regretfully, Mureln could only shrug. "I wish I could tell you. I am not sure I know myself. I just knew... it would help him find his way back." Dropping his head into his hands again, he said, "I knew he needed to before..." He sighed as Emil put his hand on his shoulder consolingly.
"Do no' fret about it, Mureln. Least he were not still lost when 'e died. That be a blessing."
"Truer than you know," Alysha said before stepping outside.
Chapter 8
The caverns that housed the archives were a tangle of massive caverns and interconnecting tunnels filled with shelves upon shelves of scrolls, journals and artifacts.
Ash reached out to touch the elegant carving on the edge of the shelf he stood by as the Master Archivist droned on in his instruction. "We allow only sunstone or moonstone lanterns within the archives to preserve the texts and avoid the risk of fire. We acquire the sunstones from the Forentan mines in the--"
"Master Turyd," Ash interrupted with tried patience. "We are both from Forenta. We know exactly where both sunstone and moonstone comes from." With barely restrained impatience, Ash stated, "We are quite familiar with archive standards, coming from the Magus Academy. We would really like to be released to examine the archives ourselves."
"Yes, yes. Of course you know." The nearsighted ancient blithely continued, as if determined that his rhetoric would be aired unchanged from the innumerable times he had spoken it before. "The main chambers house the general archives and some of the antiquities of our own. Artifacts as well as histories gathered from the lands have their own halls."
As Turyd droned on, Ash rolled his eyes. "Waste of a lovely spring day," the older Illaini Magus muttered to the oblivious Master Archivist. Terrence coughed, hiding a smile behind his hand at his former master's apprentice-like irreverence.
In sing song fashion, Turyd continued his lecture, oblivious to his students' growing impatience. "The oldest and largest of the racial archives, of course, are the Forentan archives. They occupy the largest area several levels beneath us. The Sevmanan and Vodani archives were established much later, of course, as they became recognized as autonomous groups of their own after the Great War."
"What about the Desanti archives?" Terrence wondered.
"What about the Desanti archives?" a familiarly nasally voice asked. They looked up as Dremmen came around the corner. "The Desanti archives are as irrelevant as those savage pets Almek plucked out of the wastes."
"You honor the Timeless One so well, Unsvet Dremmen," Ash stated tonelessly. "Your open-mindedness and acceptance of others is truly phenomenal."
Dremmen looked Ash up and down, a smirk curling his lip. "Oh, yes. I heard about you. The lowborn Illaini Magus. It wasn't enough to sully the Knowing One's domain, hm? You had to come here to spread your thin blood?"
Terrence gaped at the disrespect. "How dare you speak to--!"
Ash put a hand on Terrence's arm to calm him. "I'm sorry. I thought you would have been more in touch with the news from beyond your borders, assisting the Dulain as much as you do." He added sardonically, "But then again, things did happen rather quickly. I guess word hasn't reached here yet." Lazily reaching inside his tunic, he pulled out a pendant with the distinctive Avarian family mark. "You are mistaken about my family name. It is no longer Andar. I'm Ash Avarian, grandson of Master Bennu Avarian, grand nephew of Se'edai Magus Ellis Avarian."
"Avarian...? Wait! Ysai Oberlain is Se'edai," Dremmen stammered. "The Avarians are in decline...!"
Obviously pleased to have flustered Dremmen, Ash continued with bored dismissal. "Perhaps you need to get off the mountain more often, Unsvet Dremmen. The Oberlain family has slipped in the hierarchy considerably, what with two members creating alliances with darklings." Ash looked over his shoulder when Terrence snerked then coughed behind his hand.
Flushed, Dremmen scowled at Terrence. "What are you grinning at, Adept?"
Terrence flicked a look at Ash briefly before squaring his shoulders, raising his right hand to brush his hair out of his eyes, sleeve falling to his elbow, casually displaying his Illaini mark. "I don't know what you are talking about, Unsvet Dremmen."
The man's eyes widened until they seemed ready to pop out of their sockets. "You... you are... There are two Illaini Magi?!"
"You are oddly ill informed for the Dulain's assistant, given we have been here for several sevendays already," Ash observed dryly. He looked at Turyd again. "Master Archivist, Illaini Magus Terrence was asking about the Desanti archives. If there are histories for all the races within Fortress, we would like to--"
Both Illaini were surprised when Turyd's pale Forentan-descent features flushed with fury. "We do not discuss the defilers here," he hissed, more animated in that moment than the days since the two Illaini had sought out the records. "Destructive monsters, the lot of them!"
Ash and Terrence traded looks of confusion and concern. Terrence said, "I thought all Adepts had to acquaint themselves with the archives. As there are two Desanti among our numbers, I believe they would find them--"
Turyd was near apoplectic. "Desanti? Here?! Bah! I care nothing if the Dusvet had coaxed two of those abominations out of the bowels of hell itself, much less the gods forsaken wastes! I will never allow them to set foot in here. Never! Gods know what else they will destroy if they are permitted here!"
Dremmen affected a façade of concern as he put a hand on Turyd's back. "Master Archivist, you should not let yourself get so worked up. Come, let us get away from the nonsense these two speak. They will regain their senses in time."
As Dremmen swept Turyd away, Ash frowned after him. "Defilers? The Desanti have just reason to consider Forenten defilers. But the Desanti never left their land. What possible reason could there be to call the Desanti defilers?"
"I know there is prejudice against the Desanti, but Master Turyd is... rabid with his." Terrence chewed on his lower lip. "I find it very disturbing."
"You have to forgive Turyd," a young woman said as she came around one of the other sets of shelves. "These archives have been his life for the past thousand years. Even one scroll being out of place will send him into a tizzy."
"He is older than Alm
ek as well?" Ash asked in disbelief. "I had believed Almek was the oldest Guardian alive, but now we discover Dahla Morria and now the master archivist are over a thousand years old?"
The woman laughed quietly. "Almek is the only Dusvet and the oldest of the wandering Guardians, yes. He is, in fact, the Timeless One's Sentinel. But there are many who have exceeded him in years."
Curiously, Terrence wondered, "Do they ever leave Fortress to visit the other lands at all? I do not remember reading anything in Forenta of any Guardian older than Almek coming to the lands."
Chuckling, the woman shook her head. "Oh, no. Once Guardians start showing signs of physical age, they don't often stray far from Her territories." She reached up to put the book she carried away.
"Why is that? Because travel becomes more difficult?" Ash wondered, looking the woman over speculatively. He arched an eyebrow at woman's merry laughter.
"Goddess, I forgot how inquisitive young Forenten are!" The woman explained patiently, "When we receive our colors," she touched the metallic slash of color on her cheek, "the blessings of the goddess allows us to live longer than normal humans. But being conduits for time energies is costly, especially when beyond Her domain, and the weight of the years is heavy." Tucking a strand of honey-blond hair behind her ear, she offered a respectful bow. "Forgive me for my laughter, but it has been so long since anyone with such a pure, untarnished love of learning has come here. Most adepts see this as the bad that goes with the good. I am Ranshya, Assistant Master Archivist, Illaini Magi."
"So that is why Guardians do not linger long in the other lands." Ash frowned faintly, looking at his hand. "They can't survive long beyond the Sanctuary."
Ranshya made a dismissive noise and vague hand gesture. "Oh, no. No, that is not it at all. Guardians like Dremmen feel that everyone should keep to their own lands and their own talents. He's of the mind any future Guardians can come from Sharindel. Not that Turyd ever leaves the archives much as it is." She sniffed. "I would love to travel back to Forenta to explore the Academy's archives, but there is so much to be done here."
"You do not feel as Dremmen does?" Terrence asked as the two men fell in step with Ranshya as she returned to her task of putting books and scrolls back on the shelves. "That Fortress should isolate itself?"
"Oh, goodness no! While I adore the archives, I love when new journals are brought in." Ranshya sighed wistfully as she put a scroll case back on a shelf. "It makes me feel like I am out there again, all the new things they discovered. Dusvet Almek's are some of my favorites." She tapped her temple. "Few compare to Almek's open-mindedness."
Terrence looked curious. "You were a wanderer, Unsvet Ranshya? I guessed you were... a newer Guardian." When the woman arched a quizzical eyebrow, he looked suddenly sheepish, especially when Ash's expression turned vastly amused. "I mean... well. You're Forentan and--"
"Was Forentan," Ranshya corrected gently. "I have been a Guardian for over three hundred years now." She looked up and around with a fond expression. "The moment I first came to these archives, I knew I was where I belonged."
Ash frowned. "But there are legitimate differences between all the races. Each has their strengths, their own perceptions that without them we would be... be blind to what is around us."
Terrence's gaze was on a spot on the floor as he searched for the words to express his thoughts. "It seems disingenuous to turn a blind eye to who and what you are. Why is it so wrong to acknowledge your heritage?"
Ranshya chuckled softly. "Because even Guardians are prey to human failings. Many tie their heritage to their allegiances, and to be Guardian means to serve all equally, regardless of where you came from. Ideally, we would embrace each others' differences. Instead..." The fair woman shrugged. "They often are the excuses for rifts. The Dulain is particularly severe when he catches prejudices being expressed..." She looked in the direction Turyd had gone, her expression disapproving. "But the Dulain cannot be everywhere. Do not fret over your Desanti companions. No matter his bluster, Turyd cannot deny anyone access. But he can..." She fell silent, just shaking her head mutely.
"There have been rifts between people since before the Great War," Ash murmured sadly. "It seems to be the nature of humans."
"There have been rifts between people before the First Sundering." Ranshya smiled at the pair when they both looked at her, puzzled by her nonchalance. "You will see. One day, the most sacred of the archives will be unsealed from the collapse that happened during the Second Sundering. I live to see the journals of Guardians from shortly after the First Sundering."
Both men's eyes went very wide. "There are texts that are that old?" Ash whispered in awed reverence.
"Oh, indeed! And you both will be most treasured." She reached for Ash's right hand, touching his Illaini mark lightly. "Only Illaini have the ability to bring the Knowing One's touch to preserve the ancient writings. But it has been so long since Perisi last came, we had to resort to sealing off halls to prevent decay and abandon attempts to unseal those locked away from collapses."
Terrence raised his right hand, looking bewildered. "I had no idea Illaini had duties outside of Forenta..."
"It seems there is still much for both of us to learn," Ash said in some bemusement, lifting Ranshya's hand to kiss her knuckles lightly. "About being Guardian and Illaini both."
"Those from many lands come to Fortress to assist the Guardians in their duties. The god-touched come as representative of their gods, the mortal bearers of Their divine glory."
"Wait. You speak as if there are other god-touched in the land besides Illaini Magi." Ash was at once perplexed and intrigued. "Well, the Desanti but--"
"Well, of course there are. But that is for later." Ranshya glanced around them before whispering, "We avoid speaking of the Desanti. Turyd..."
"Understood." Troubled still, Ash asked, "Can you explain to me why he calls the Desanti defilers? In our travels with Dusvet Almek, we have learned a great deal about what happened in the Great War after we went to Desantiva, but--"
Ranshya's eyes lit up. "You have been to Desantiva?!" Grabbing both men's hands, she pulled them along to the outer alcove where there were stacks of newly bound books. She pulled two down, setting them on a tall desk before rummaging around for something else in another bin. "Oh, you must start your journals and document what you have learned! I have read so much in the archives from before and after those days. There is so precious little about the days during the war and nearly nothing from--"
"Mistress Ranshya," Terrence interrupted, bringing a blush to the woman's complexion. His expression was earnest. "We will be happy to learn what is needed to keep a journal as Guardians, but we must know... Why do some have such antipathy towards the Desanti? They were the ones who suffered the most during the Great War, with their land destroyed and their people nearly wiped out."
Pressing her lips together, Ranshya stopped fussing, her hands resting atop the books on the table. After several heartbeats, she finally said gravely, "Come with me. You must see, because there are no words for what lies behind the hostility." She led them through the vast chambers of shelves lined with books, scrolls, and even items of art or function. After some time, they climbed a small stairs into a square room filled with numerous elegant carved arches, even on the empty wall facing them.
Ranshya reached out to rest her hand on an ornate branch adorned with the image of a tree sprite, her voice quiet. "It is said that during the First Sundering, these halls suddenly appeared to serve as the racial archives." Her eyes followed the carvings of trees and vines that framed the tunnel. "The Forentan archives lie at the end of this tunnel. After the Great War and the Second Sundering, a new hall branched off and the journals of those who were aligned with the Sevmanen separated from the Forentan. That is where the Sevmanen archives are."
"Representing the close relationship between the Sevmanen and Forenten," Ash said thoughtfully, nodding to himself. "Fascinating."
"Some say," Ranshya whispered, "t
hat the halls had once been conjoined and one day, the child races will become so distinct, that all the racial halls' entrances will one day meet here. It has been noted that the Sevmanan hall's entrance seems to migrate further from the Forentan hall as time passes."
Terrence looked at the distinctive carvings of animals around the frame of the hall facing the Forentan archway, touching it reverently. "This is the Desanti hall, with one for the Vodani split off from it?"
"Shh!" Ranshya shot a nervous look over her shoulder as a few adepts moved by with stacks of books in their arms. "We call it the Vodani hall. It keeps us from accidentally setting Turyd off on one of his apoplectic rants." She stepped out to fetch three sunstone lanterns then headed into the Vodani hall. "Come."
After several minutes of walking, they reached a branching tunnel that had more oceanic carvings around the entrance. "The Vodani archives are here, though it is difficult to find information from them."
Ash looked curiously down the dimly lit tunnel. He resisted the temptation to explore it right then. "In the time we have known Mureln, I think I know less about the Vodani than I do the Desanti," he observed thoughtfully.
"Unsurprising," Ranshya replied, waiting patiently. A small smile played on her lips, recognizing the insatiable Forentan curiosity in the two men. "The Vodani are very reluctant to share information about their own with Guardians, even when they become Guardians themselves."
Terrence and Ash traded surprised looks before the younger Illaini asked Ranshya, "They do not welcome Guardians among them? Though I suppose it stands to reason. The Desanti are rabidly reclusive, and the Vodani are cousins to them. It makes sense they would share similar traits and habits." He peered into the darkness of the Vodani hall. "I wonder how much more similar they are to each other besides their nomadic natures and a predilection to heightened awareness to things such as pregnancies. Perhaps they share the hostility towards intruding Guardians."
