Poisonwell
Page 157
Annon felt a surge of relief and gratitude. He wiped his mouth, unable to contain the burst of enjoyment and thrill that surged inside his heart. Had they done it? Had they accomplished the task? As he stepped over the clutter of rubble, he came to a rift in the ground, the center of the hilltop. There were Hettie and Paedrin. To the side, he saw Baylen smirking as he arrived, the giant Cruithne nodding in welcome as they joined. Tyrus! Annon saw Tyrus talking to Phae and Shion, clutching a heavy black book to his chest and nodding. As Annon approached, he saw Tyrus turn and discovered a talisman around his neck.
Annon was dumbfounded.
Annon
He felt the whisper in his mind and saw that there was another standing among them whom he had not seen before. He was a lithe and towering figure, with long dark hair and an expression of humility and respect on his face. The feelings surging inside Annon’s heart stunned him. He recognized the man. Somehow, it felt like it did when he saw Reeder after a journey. Annon knelt before the Seneschal of Mirrowen, feeling the enormity of the moment, the thought that most Druidecht lived their entire lives without ever glimpsing Mirrowen.
Rise, Annon of Wayland—one of the Thirteen
His heart swelled even larger and he felt tears trickle down his cheeks. He rose, seeing the greeting on their faces, seeing the joy in their eyes. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he felt it would be wrong to speak. That to do so would intrude on a sacred moment.
The Seneschal faced Annon, who rose because he felt compelled to do so.
“Welcome,” the Seneschal said, smiling. “Welcome to Canton Vaud. Do you accept your position as one of the Thirteen? You join others, like Tyrus and your friend Drosta. You must restore the Druidecht order under the guidance of its original founder, Prince Isic Moussion of Stonehollow. There is much you will learn about your blood and who you are. Do you accept the responsibility?”
“I will,” Annon replied without a moment’s hesitation.
“Good,” the Seneschal said. He then withdrew a sheathed dagger, which Annon recognized as the blade Iddawc. “The binding on this weapon will last for a thousand years. It must be safeguarded. Return it to Drosta’s Lair, where it may continue to remain hidden. The Druidecht must be summoned to this place. The safe road leads from Basilides to cross the Scourgelands. Poisonwell has been opened at long last.”
“The way to Mirrowen?” Annon asked, his eyes gleaming with hope.
“When you have all completed your tasks, you will be allowed to enter. If you desire it with all your hearts.”
Annon saw the looks on their faces, saw the triumph in their eyes. The world would change forever. He dared not ask it, because he knew he did not need to. If he did what he was required, he would be allowed to enter Mirrowen. And there, he hoped, he would find Neodesha waiting for him.
“The more I understand the lore and mythology surrounding the Seneschal of Mirrowen, the more humbled I am at all that has transpired, how the events of these days will reap a future we can only imagine. I asked Tyrus to try to explain why the Seneschal, powerful as he is, did not come to deliver us personally. Tyrus’s answer was fraught with wisdom, his words were simple: He who created us without our help would not save us without our consent.
Tyrus returned to Kenatos with the rightful Arch-Rike, Band-Imas, whose body was discovered in the Rike vaults known as Basilides. He was still alive after many years, his body preserved through arcane spirit magic. He immediately relinquished his claim and status, choosing to become a Druidecht instead and to commence the rebuilding of the mighty fortress of Canton Vaud. He was joined by other Druidecht, who banded together to form a new mastermind, bent on restoring the lost Druidecht knowledge. Tyrus did not stay in Kenatos long—long enough though to set free the spirits entrapped in the city. He collected the volumes of the Paracelsus order, to be archived in Canton Vaud but no longer used. He has already collected most of the records from the Archives of Kenatos. All the records from the Archives will ultimately be transferred there. I am grateful that the one who sought to destroy all knowledge is no longer able to prosper.
Kenatos and Boeotia have a truce. Relations with Silvandom also have begun between the two erstwhile hostile neighbors. The Empress Larei believes it will take several generations to unravel the hatred of her people. I do believe she may be right.
The Cruithne are reconstructing Havenrook, beautifying the city with gardens and waterworks, harnessing the power of the rivers to invent great gristmills and other intriguing contraptions. The Preachán are restless, of course. They resent being thrust out of their ancient homeland. I predict we will see a series of skirmishes between their peoples before they learn to coexist. The King of Wayland is exerting his power more forcefully now. He controls the shipping between kingdoms and seeks to replicate the power the Romani once held. The king of Wayland is a distrustful man. He does not believe the reports from the Scourgelands. He believes it’s all a trick of some kind. There are rumors that the Romani have finally infiltrated Stonehollow. I don’t give these rumors much credence myself.
Annon was dumbfounded.
Annon
He felt the whisper in his mind and saw that there was another standing among them whom he had not seen before. He was a lithe and towering figure, with long dark hair and an expression of humility and respect on his face. The feelings surging inside Annon’s heart stunned him. He recognized the man. Somehow, it felt like it did when he saw Reeder after a journey. Annon knelt before the Seneschal of Mirrowen, feeling the enormity of the moment, the thought that most Druidecht lived their entire lives without ever glimpsing Mirrowen.
Rise, Annon of Wayland—one of the Thirteen
His heart swelled even larger and he felt tears trickle down his cheeks. He rose, seeing the greeting on their faces, seeing the joy in their eyes. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he felt it would be wrong to speak. That to do so would intrude on a sacred moment.
The Seneschal faced Annon, who rose because he felt compelled to do so.
“Welcome,” the Seneschal said, smiling. “Welcome to Canton Vaud. Do you accept your position as one of the Thirteen? You join others, like Tyrus and your friend Drosta. You must restore the Druidecht order under the guidance of its original founder, Prince Isic Moussion of Stonehollow. There is much you will learn about your blood and who you are. Do you accept the responsibility?”
“I will,” Annon replied without a moment’s hesitation.
“Good,” the Seneschal said. He then withdrew a sheathed dagger, which Annon recognized as the blade Iddawc. “The binding on this weapon will last for a thousand years. It must be safeguarded. Return it to Drosta’s Lair, where it may continue to remain hidden. The Druidecht must be summoned to this place. The safe road leads from Basilides to cross the Scourgelands. Poisonwell has been opened at long last.”
“The way to Mirrowen?” Annon asked, his eyes gleaming with hope.
“When you have all completed your tasks, you will be allowed to enter. If you desire it with all your hearts.”
Annon saw the looks on their faces, saw the triumph in their eyes. The world would change forever. He dared not ask it, because he knew he did not need to. If he did what he was required, he would be allowed to enter Mirrowen. And there, he hoped, he would find Neodesha waiting for him.
“The more I understand the lore and mythology surrounding the Seneschal of Mirrowen, the more humbled I am at all that has transpired, how the events of these days will reap a future we can only imagine. I asked Tyrus to try to explain why the Seneschal, powerful as he is, did not come to deliver us personally. Tyrus’s answer was fraught with wisdom, his words were simple: He who created us without our help would not save us without our consent.
Tyrus returned to Kenatos with the rightful Arch-Rike, Band-Imas, whose body was discovered in the Rike vaults known as Basilides. He was still alive after many years, his body preserved through arcane spirit magic. He immediately relinquished his claim and status, choosing to become a Druidecht instead and to commence the rebuilding of the mighty fortress of Canton Vaud. He was joined by other Druidecht, who banded together to form a new mastermind, bent on restoring the lost Druidecht knowledge. Tyrus did not stay in Kenatos long—long enough though to set free the spirits entrapped in the city. He collected the volumes of the Paracelsus order, to be archived in Canton Vaud but no longer used. He has already collected most of the records from the Archives of Kenatos. All the records from the Archives will ultimately be transferred there. I am grateful that the one who sought to destroy all knowledge is no longer able to prosper.
Kenatos and Boeotia have a truce. Relations with Silvandom also have begun between the two erstwhile hostile neighbors. The Empress Larei believes it will take several generations to unravel the hatred of her people. I do believe she may be right.
The Cruithne are reconstructing Havenrook, beautifying the city with gardens and waterworks, harnessing the power of the rivers to invent great gristmills and other intriguing contraptions. The Preachán are restless, of course. They resent being thrust out of their ancient homeland. I predict we will see a series of skirmishes between their peoples before they learn to coexist. The King of Wayland is exerting his power more forcefully now. He controls the shipping between kingdoms and seeks to replicate the power the Romani once held. The king of Wayland is a distrustful man. He does not believe the reports from the Scourgelands. He believes it’s all a trick of some kind. There are rumors that the Romani have finally infiltrated Stonehollow. I don’t give these rumors much credence myself.
