by AS Hamilton
Stealthily, she made her way through the tall grasses until her prey was in sight; it was indeed another patrol. It appeared they had not detected her companion, for they faced away from him, as if watching for an approach they had yet to see. She considered attacking them; killing humans did not bother her like it might some of her counterparts. Humans did not think of themselves as animals and thus thought they were above being a meal, and yet they killed each other over territory, food and sometimes even less. Her kind killed to eat, and a quick death was considered the best way. It was honourable and without prolonged suffering. Humans were known to make death an agony, drawing it out well beyond necessity. Her partner, Elisana would have to remind her that not all two-footed people were alike and she was being unfair. Of course, he was right, but the two-footed races had almost brought about the extinction of her kind centuries before and she remained wary of them.
An attack could provide distraction and delay, but it could also give away their presence. Eight humans, even armed, were no match for her speed or her teeth and claws. They would be dead before they realised what had descended on them. Baschia grunted as she decided, she would leave them waiting fruitlessly for prey who had come and now gone.
Day 1 – Late Afternoon
Ancoulan
The Thane threw his cloak on a chair in the corner, shrouding the maple frame and velvet upholstery. His brow was knitted in a deep frown. Not even the late-afternoon sunshine streaming in the wide floor-to-ceiling windows could lighten his dismal mood. Nathan paced restlessly, undecided as to where he should focus his frustrated energy first. Most of the day had been spent in meetings, futile meetings reporting no progress on any of his investigations. Daniel, so arrogantly sure he would find the Saviour and yet, even he had no progress to show.
And now the mage was late too!
His glance skimmed over the assorted books and scrolls on his desk. They all related to elvan prophecies. These prophecies, which were often also called visions, were seen by mages called seers. Some of the prophecies before him were ancient, older than the buildings themselves, and had come to pass long ago. Some were younger, describing things yet to occur. To Nathan, they were insignificant as they would not happen in his lifetime. For some reason, his predecessor had thought them important and Nathan had not yet gotten around to having them cleared away. There were two exceptions. The one that concerned him most described an elvan with silver and black hair with blue eyes. This elvan was supposed to emerge from one of their cities on a white warrior horse with patches of grey. More than one man had sniggered when he heard that Malithorn Abbarane, the Great Lord, would be cowed by rhetoric spouted by this sub-race that called themselves Elvan. Nathan had laughed too, once, until he discovered that prophecies came to pass.
Nathan paced around the room again before he stopped in front of the enormous desk. The gold-plated feet and corners glinted in the rays of the sun. The magnificence of the desk had been long forgotten. The legs sculpted in the form of may-en-ghi, their outstretched paws reaching for birds engraved on the gold-plated corners above, had long lost their novelty. Before him were texts that, by rights, could be no more than fables, but had proved their validity through the passing of time. His glance swept from an open scroll to a book. Prophecies written centuries ago and journals recording their actual happening. While the seers recorded the prophecies, another profession, called journey-walkers, recorded current events and dispersed this news amongst the populace and were responsible for the journals. They matched. All of them. Nathan ran his fingers over the pages of one open book. This journal recorded everything up to Keldon's victory at Sal-Cirus. Its matching scroll was about eight centuries old, or so Nathan's senior historian asserted. The title on the scroll was The Prophecy of Desolation. It said that Andarea would face the challenge of war and be defeated. Their people would lose their lands, their possessions, their dignity, and finally, their hope. They would be separated from their families and homes with nothing left in their future but enslavement. Most amazing of all was that it named Keldon Abbarane as the conqueror. How could you laugh at that?
Nathan's hand moved to a scroll on the desk with no matching history: a prophecy yet to pass. Although seers throughout the country had seen the fall of their nation, one had seen it rise.
Nathan took no comfort in the knowledge that an elvan child had seen this prophecy, which was remarkable in itself, for Toormeena of the House of Toorian was now one of the most renowned seers in Elvan history. It had been eight centuries ago and she had been around thirty when she had seen The Prophecy. Thirty for an elvan was the equivalent of a human child of about ten. Elvan didn't even start their apprenticeships until their first century, so it was extraordinary that this child had witnessed a full vision. As Nathan had warned Malithorn, even as children the elvan were a threat. In Toormeena's case, this was particularly true. Before Andarea was conquered, Toormeena recorded hundreds of visions and Nathan had a whole room filled with scrolls written by her and journals recording their occurrence. Amongst the elvan, the general belief was that if Toormeena has seen it, then it would happen. That Malithorn had Toormeena prisoner in a relatively luxurious cell in Sal-Cirus did not improve things greatly in Nathan's mind, either. The elvan had proven themselves eminently deceitful and trusting them was unwise. Keldon's own pet elvan mage, Colnba, had dismissed The Prophecy, telling Keldon it wasn't a proper prophecy. This mage had pledged his loyalty to Keldon and then told him a bare-faced lie, because when Malithorn learned about it, his research revealed that within the seemingly-innocuous verse, was a prophecy that would have significant consequences if it came about. Still Malithorn insisted on using elvan to serve him, just as his father, Keldon, had. It was like keeping a dragon for pet, and as far as Nathan was concerned, it was only a matter of time until they all got burned. Better to just kill them all and ensure the safety of their people.
Resisting the urge to sweep the offending copy of The Prophecy from the desk, Nathan shoved himself away and moved out to the balcony. He had read that damned verse so many times he knew it by heart. It was his job, now, to work out how to find and defeat this saviour. But the task was proving more challenging than he imagined. Yet, who could miss him? As The Prophecy described him, he was unique:
A saviour with hair of silver blended with midnight's hue
He has eyes that are droplets of the ocean's deepest blue
Upon him the mark of silent death can be found
Which earns him loyalty that is endlessly bound
All talents his, from Abbarane's triumph he rides away
Behind dawn's light, on valiant charger, white with patched grey
Upon spring bloom, he must make the journey to find Soul's Death
Which can be found within the stone tempered by dragon's breath
The key to freedom, the hidden one, he must find
This guardian is found in the eyes of the blind
To mend the mistakes of the past, he must seek unity
And forsake the fallen's pleas to fulfil his prophecy.
Nathan huffed, turning to pace indoors again and paused at the sight of the human standing in front of his desk looking down at the contents strewn across the top. His newest appointment, a human mage trained in interpreting prophecies, Nathan was hoping Regen would provide greater insight into the puzzle presented by The Prophecy. The dark-haired figure shook his head slightly, his hair brushing the straight, high collar of the gold-trimmed, navy jacket of his station.
'You should roll the scrolls, my lord,' he murmured, raising intelligent gold-brown eyes to meet the Thane's gaze. 'They will not last left in this condition.'
'And you should get a haircut. You took your time, Regen,' Nathan snapped.
Regen bowed deeply, bending his front knee. 'My apologies, my lord. I was, as instructed, researching the texts you indicated, and the archives are a fair distance from the palace. I abandoned my research immediately upon receiving your summons.'
&n
bsp; Nathan waved the rest of the excuse away. 'I have spent all day in meetings, Regen, just tell me what your research has revealed, thus far.'
'I have searched almost two hundred and fifty items with no success. Fortunately, the oldest files are written rather than recorded on co-toor. I have no trouble using the mind-activated machines, but I get a vicious headache after using them for long periods.'
Nathan scowled and strode over to a tall, glass cabinet, he was developing a headache himself. Withdrawing a crystal decanter, he poured himself a brandy. 'Again, nothing!' he growled.
The mage hesitated and then, adopting a deferential tone, said, 'Forgive me, my lord, for asking, but how do you know there is a longer version of The Prophecy? I mean, if I knew the source, I might be able to use it to aid my search.'
'It is both an intuition and an educated guess. Colnba got away with lying to Keldon about The Prophecy by essentially telling a truth about it, he said it wasn't a proper prophecy. The only reason that mage isn't dead is because he could prove that, technically, he didn't lie. So if he didn't lie, that means something is missing from The Prophecy that would make it a proper prophecy. I am not the first to note how short it is. I believe House of Toorian wanted people to know, to have hope, while not giving anything away.'
Regen frowned and pressed his lips together. Tentatively, he said, 'I may regret this, my lord, however, as your servant I would be failing you not to give you the benefit of all my knowledge.'
Nathan arched a brow in question.
'I have studied elvan texts all my life, my lord, was taught by an elvan historian... Many of their prophecies are exactly like this, my lord.' Regen raised a placating hand. 'I am not, in any way, defending Colnba. I have an equal wariness of elvan. As you know, my lord, I happily contributed to killing my share of elvan by leading our patrols to them,' he reminded the Thane.
Nathan gave a slight nod for Regen to continue. It was one of the deciding factors in selecting Regen, his record showed an impressive amount of kills, attesting to his skills as a mage and his loyalty to the Abbarane government.
'Colnba most likely meant to further mislead us with his reference. It allowed him to dismiss The Prophecy in a manner that appeared truthful, for 'proper' is a subjective term, who is to judge what is 'proper'? At the same time, he causes us to expend resources looking for the 'proper' prophecy. When read by one who does not know the culture, a short prophecy like this appears to convey little, but I have already gleaned at least one significant fact from the first line alone.'
The mage's statement intrigued Nathan and he found himself almost leaning towards Regen.
'When they say the hair is silver blended with midnight's hue; they are not describing a single being, they are describing a bonded pair,' Regen announced almost nonchalantly.
Nathan almost choked on his drink. 'Two elvan!'
'Yes, my lord. One with silver hair, the other black.'
Nathan considered this revelation. It made sense; elvan did not just have black hair or white hair; it kind of... shimmered, giving the illusion it was changing colours. There was always a range of colours, the combination of just two colours, such as mentioned in The Prophecy was unheard of — they had checked. They had also looked into an elvan with dominant black hair mixed with a range of silvers and vice versa — it did occur, according to elvan birth records, however, they had yet to find one that matched all the features listed in The Prophecy. So it made Regen's suggestion plausible. The Thane felt a moment of triumph, his instincts had told him he needed a specialist mage to look at The Prophecy and, already, that decision, and his selection of Regen, was paying off.
Unfortunately, black-haired elvan and silver-haired elvan were as common as rats, and Nathan wondered whether it would be easier to just kill them all. They would hardly be disadvantaged if he did. They were just servants — not even that! Servants, at least, had some worth; even animals had more value. They were peasants; to be used as needed. Nothing was more galling than a peasant who decided they had importance and therefore rights. Not even wealth could buy you noble blood!
'So, all that symbolic garble about finding the key in the sight of the blind, that really does refer to the elvan belief in souls connecting,' Nathan prompted.
'Jenishae, they call it, my lord. Yes, it is considered blind because it is about feeling a connection. This meeting of kindred souls can happen in person, through written communication, or when mages make contact through what they call 'planes'. Often it leads to close friendships or partners that bond for life, otherwise known as rahn.'
The Thane moved away from the liquor cabinet to stand beside a square table of the same design as his desk. He gazed out windows spanning the length of the room; no frame disrupted the view, achieving a seamless panorama. He knew all about jenishae, he often used it to break prisoners. Many rebels cared not about their own pain, but those they bonded with…
'So, he must find his rahn. They may not be together yet,' he murmured thoughtfully. 'What of this warning to 'mend the mistakes of the past' and this fallen one whose pleas he must forsake to fulfil this prophecy?'
'That would depend on what the elvan need to learn of their past to succeed in the future.'
'Not to be defeated,' Nathan smirked.
'Indeed, my lord,' Regen intoned sombrely.
Nathan could see the mage did not appreciate his sense of humour; most mages were too damn serious. 'Could this fallen one be Hasdeen? She betrayed her people by turning the government into a dictatorship. It was her governance, or lack of it, that attracted Keldon's attention. Did she make some kind of plea at the end of her rule when Diannra and Caradon took over?'
Regen shook his head slowly. 'Mmm, no. Not that I can recall. Such an interpretation is quite plausible, though. If you will it, my lord, I can extend my research to examine this aspect.'
'Do that, if we can somehow fulfil this plea, we could bring about an end to this prophecy.'
Nathan frowned as another point occurred to him. He turned to address the mage, 'What about the eyes, then? If it refers to two people, why is only one eye colour described? It also specifies a colour not commonly found among elvan. In fact, never found among elvan.'
'This is true, my lord, as you say, elvan eyes are like their hair, with the appearance of multiple colours in the iris. However, it has been observed that despite the flecks of other colours being present, elvan will have what could be described as a base colour. One could propose that they both have blue eyes and the author did not make this clear in order to create a puzzle for those they did not want to interpret The Prophecy correctly. Then there is the fabled hero Hahn…' At Nathan's irritated huff, Regen trailed to stop.
'Is it relevant?'
'Well, my lord, Hahn was reputed to have silver eyes, just straight, solid silver in colour. The precedent for an exception is established. Furthermore, Hahn was also the only known elvan in history to be born with all the talents and to be naturally gifted in using them. The Prophecy states that this saviour will have all talents. Perhaps, my lord, he is of the same bloodline. You know how elvan are about their houses and bloodlines.'
'Far too proud,' Nathan scoffed. The Thane tapped his glass as he thought. There was enough logic in Regen's theory about the eye and hair colour to act on it. As far as Hahn was concerned, Nathan considered him as mythical as the dragons the elvan claimed once inhabited these lands.
'Very well,' he said with a nod, 'I will amend the orders for the patrols to bring in elvan females as well, that will account for both possibilities. I already need to send out new orders regarding the distribution of soldiers in Sal-Cirus.'
Regen tilted his head, frowning slightly. 'Sal-Cirus, my lord?'
Nathan answered the question with a vague shake of his head. 'Another matter.'
The mage made an 'ah' sound. 'You think the subject of The Prophecy may be heading to Sal-Cirus to retrieve the gemstone discovered some thirty-odd turns ago.'
Nathan gave the ma
ge a sharp look. 'How do you know of the gemstone?'
The hostility in the Thane's tone startled Regen. 'From the files you gave me when I was given this task, my lord. It contained information on your predecessor's activities. Thane Aldarsan may have been deemed incompetent, but he kept detailed records. In it there's an account of an event where one of Aldarsan's mages said he felt the presence of the Saviour in Sal-Cirus. The ensuing search left them with a semi-precious stone of questionable significance aside from the fact that Colnba confirmed the Saviour had touched it. This lead to the presumption he would return for it. I know nothing more, my lord. I thought that was why Sal-Cirus was a place you deemed worth monitoring, if the gemstone is still there.'
Nathan snorted slightly, so much for secrecy. At least the mage did not know what they did with the gemstone. Unable to destroy it, Malithorn had it put in one of six decorative shields in his throne room at Sal-Cirus. This part had been left out of reports. The shields hung several meters above the floor and were under constant guard. Would this be enough if the Saviour came to reclaim it?
'It is possible,' Nathan allowed, 'that this Saviour might see if he can track the gemstone down. I see no harm in taking precautions.'
'Indeed, my lord. I gather, though, that you will not allow the apparent importance of this gemstone to distract you from ensuring our Great Lord's safety in Denas.'
