Online Session Recap - 05.04.2019

Tylendel leaves Ironheart Tower alone, heading towards the House of Martial Holies. On his way there he stops by the Lady’s Grove, as he’s started calling it. He pushes his way inside – the growth is thicker and denser than the last time he was there. In the centre of the Grove, where Lady Ristina was buried, there is now a black patch where it looks like there’s been a fire, and the dirt is disturbed.

Tylendel: “What have you done, Mulendobra?”

Unsettled, Tylendel sits down in the grass near the blackened spot and tries to reach the Lady of Summer, but all he feels is a nothingness, an absence, a hole where something should have been but isn’t. It feels like sorcery has been subdued.

At the House of Martial Holies, Black Jaquan is at the door. Tylendel asks him if Syr Gylian is there, and is told that he has just returned from the temple. Tylendel goes inside and goes to the council chamber, where Syr Gylian and his shadow are. As Tylendel walks inside, Syr Gylian stands and meets him.

Gylian: “My lord! At last. You’ve been found missing.”

He smiles.

Tylendel: “Yes, I needed to make a journey, and I was delayed. My apologies.”

Gylian: “Do you have a moment now?”

Tylendel: “Yes, I do.”

Gylian gestures to the corner with chairs

Gylian: “I will be with you in a moment. I need to fetch something to show you.”

Gylian leaves the room, and Tylendel walks over to the chairs and sits down. He lays his helmet and gauntlets on the table, and leans his shield against the chair. While waiting, Tylendel notices that there are quite a few soldiers gathered at the entrance to the temple. Shortly after Syr Gylian returns.

Gylian: “This storm is the fiercest we have ever experienced. The host of the Cult must surely have been blown in all directions.”

He glances at Tylendel with a raised eyebrow, as if understanding Tylendel’s role.

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Gylian: “Do you suppose that among these vile enemies, they could have someone who could withstand such power?”

Tylendel: “No. Maybe the Crow-king himself, but… No, they all had to hunker down.”

Gylian: “That’s good to hear. We’ve been discussing whether we should send out a squad of scouts, but I have decided to wait until I’ve heard your opinion.”

Tylendel: “Right now the Crow-king’s army is in disarray.”

Gylian: “You know this? Have you seen them?”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Gylian: “Excellent.”

Tylendel: “They were at Kingsbridge, and the area around Kingsbridge, when the wind hit them. There was little cover. I imagine that the Norchtí are running wild now. Well, hopyfully they’re still sheltering.”

Gylian: “Wilder, you mean.”

Tylendel: “They had a few thousand Parsians and Cultists to watch over them and keep them in check, but that won’t be happening now.”

Gylian: “I wonder what kind of deal has been made with these people of faraway Parsabast. There’s been no enmity between that city-state and the Empyre for a long time. What could they gain?”

Tylendel: “They follow their god.”

Gylian: “You think so? The Creeping God is the god of Parsabast?”

Tylendel: “I believe so, yes.”

Gylian looks stunned.

Gylian: “I… I don’t know what to say to that.

An Áhar “servant” enters and places an ewer of wine and glasses on the table, then leave. Gylian pours wine for them both.

Tylendel: “I also believe that some servants of Xandiron Spearheart is there.”

Gylian: “Coastlanders.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Gylian: “That doesn’t surprise me as much as the Parsabastians. Still”

Tylendel: “Well, the Queen Mother of Oxsosth was the one that ordered the assassination of the God-king.”

Gylian: “You are certain of this?”

Tylendel: “Yes, I am.”

Gylian: “It’s not like they haven’t shown interest in being on this side of the sae before.”

Tylendel: “No. I believe it was High-lord Baros that made the arrangements with the Queen Mother of Oxosth for what has been going on the few last years, by the order of the Cult of the Lost.”

Gylian: “So you would say that the Salt Coast, or at least one of the White Cities, is actually supporting the Creeping God’s war?”

Tylendel: “Yes. I don’t know if they know they serve the Creeping God, but I suspect that Xandrion Spearheart is the Creeping God’s son.”

Gylian: ”Ss—Fph—Xandrion Spearheart is but a legend. A myth venerated and turned into a religion that is false.”

Tylendel: “So is the Creeping God.”

Gylian looks uncomfortable.

Gylian: ”Anyway… Well… Wow… That is certainly something that we should but on the agenda for the next morning council, I think.”

Tylendel: “Did Syr Dostan show you my report?”

Gylian: ”Yes, he did.”

Tylendel: “It’s changed now after the storm, but…”

Gylian: ”Imagine if everyone had those abilities you have to deduce. Everyone would know everything.”

Tylendel: “It’s a good thing they don’t then.”

Gylian: ”Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

Tylendel: “The Crow-king is blind, at least. I found more mirrors of his and destroyed them.”

They keep talking, Tylendel informing Gylian about the Crow-king’s army. After a while Gylian hands Tylendel a scroll addressed to Eld.

Gylian: ”I wanted to hand you this at the morning council a few days ago. It’s not addressed to you, but to your friend, but I suppose it should be yours to keep. We found it when we cleared Lord Haralamb’s chamber.

Tylendel takes the scroll and looks at it. It is sealed with the sigil of House Balére.

Tylendel [softly]: “I am my brother’s keeper.”

Tylendel: “Has there been any more assassinations?”

Gylian: ”No, but now that mention it I have some more things to show you.”

He hands Tylendel a sheet with names: Count Ales Malion, Esmond II Sollani, both names struck through. Haralamb Horvath, Karlon Rymes, Syr Antun Comton, Bohumíl Camrey, Syr Dostan Anpetor, Count Roben Sandath, Count Andraw Iker, Syr Valdor Wenzel, Syr Peffer, Syr Thomark Dvorel.

Gylian: ”We found this in the chambers of Syr Yaskar of Polodnia. It does look like there was a plan for more assassination.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Gylian: ”But we have not been able to find any pattern in it. Why Karlon? Why Syr Dostan of the Prophets Host? Syr Peffer? Syr Thomark Dvorel? Yes, they are knights, but Syr Peffer isn’t even landed. Needless to say, we have doubled guards all around, but there have been no more incidents, though we have lost a few men to the storm. And we have several in the infirmary. We also found, on the same day, the evening after they tried to escape, we searched both Yaskar’s chambers and Syr Dalibor’s chambers. In Syr Yaskar’s chamber, in addition to that list, a pouch of meadow saffron, confirming what you already knew.”

Tylendel: “Yes…”

Gylian: ”We also found the tabard with the sigil of his house, and his shield, tucked under his bed, and in Syr Dalibor’s chamber we found an amulet.”

He places an amulet with a silver chain and an amber-buried spider.

Tylendel: “I’ll get rid of that.”

Gylian: ”It looks like it belongs to the enemy, does it not.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Tylendel looks at the amulet using his Mage-sight. He gets the feeling that there has been an enchantment on it.

Tylendel: “Syr Dalibor may have been coerced.”

Gylian: ”In your absence, my lord, we were forced to provide some of you companies with captains and lieutenants. If you disagree with any of our choices it is of course not a problem. And I have instructed them to keep those troops alert and drilled.”

Tylendel: “Good. Aaah, there’s not enough time.”

Gylian: ”Well I do think this terrible storm has bought us some more time, don’t you think so?”

Tylendel: “Yes. What we need to be aware of now is that there… We may start getting attacked by small flocks of Norochtí.”

Gylian: ”If they come in small flocks, we can live with that.”

Tylendel: “Yes. Not the twelve thousand I saw on the plains.”

Gylian: ”These things, they can scale these walls.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Gylian: ” With claws and ferocity.”

Tylendel: “Archers and spears.”

Gylian: ”We must do with what we have. We do have spearmen among us.”

Tylendel: “Good.”

As they’re talking, there is something bothering Tylendel. At first it seems to just be a shadow I the room, then he sees Duke Harmond Horwath sitting in a chair drinking wine. He still looks dead. When Tylendel blinks, he is gone.

Gylian: ”Lastly, we have, unfortunately, speaking of having too little time. In your absence we have received a great number of visitors. Perhaps you noticed the additional detail outside the temple? The nave, my friend, is crowded with people no-one on this hill dare trust. They came at Alfons the Reverend’s Gate. Only a few of them speaking our language enough to make themselves understood. Dirty, backwards bog-people.”

He nods.

Gylian: “Aye. The Myrhold has arrived. Seeking shelter and promising not to cause any trouble, and indeed promising to aid us if the need should arise. And it was I who convinced the Council to allow them inside, for the Lost God loves all His children.”

Tylendel: “The Myrhold…”

Gylian: ”Yes. I believe their leaders are chieftains of sorts. There are three of them. One of the spoke Paksí fairly well. The two others, not so good. But I understood they have been forced to abandon their, whatever they dwell in. Cave? Ruins of Glenmyr strongholds? I don’t know. He claims that some god or spirit they venerate in their bogs and mires told them to leave. The problem, of course, is that no-one here trust the men of the Myrhold. We have a history of wars and skirmishers and conflicts. And you can guess Syr Bohumíl’s responsibility as the Knight of Riverroad Keep was indeed to keep the Myrhold-men from spilling out of their woods.”

Tylendel: “Yes. We should have had Lady Rheië here now. She could have helped us.”

Gylian: ”But still, as I told Syr Bohumíl: You can say that that you can’t trust anyone about anyone. You can’t trust an Imlia, right? In fact, I recall those exact words being spoken by your liege. Perhaps when Duke Emon visited the Hill to atone for his sins. He did that regularly. And he as always accompanied by your master of arms, Syr Artell Marnen. There was a knight of the good old fashion; virtuous and chivalrous, and so was his lord, of course, although most people thought he was not quite what he seemed. But who else but Duke Emon, among the pampered, cared for the orphans of the streets?”

Tylendel thinks about things he wants to keep hidden about his adoptive father.

Tylendel: “He did give us hope.”

Tylendel notices that Syr Gylian looks hesitant about something, as if there’s something he really doesn’t want to tell Tylendel.

Tylendel: “Out with it, Syr Gylian.”

Gylian looks at Tylendel for a while before talking.

Gylian: ”I did save the worst for the last.”

He sighs.

Gylian: “There’s been someone in the vault, and I think I know who. The perpetrator, though, we have not been able to locate him, but one of his companions we found dead. His corpse was white, the veins showing blue through his skin. One of those who accompanied Duke Esmond of Halinhaven. I have instigated investigations. It happened during the night before yesterday. The two guards posted outside, they were both…”

He struggles to stay emotionless.

Gylian: “They were both terribly… Beaten to pulp. One skull… The back of his skull crushed. Points to someone with great strength, which confirms my suspicions that the vault was visited by these strangers who attached themselves to Duke Esmond’s entourage. And yes, there are things missing that you probably do not want to be missing. I am deeply sorry. I suspect Yosha Artamon, the Mirovni. One of his companions, as I said, sprawling on the floor of the vault. There are no wounds on him, only that cream white skin. And, according to one of the guards who discovered him, his eyes were entirely white, without pupils, when he closed them. We found tracks that were tried hidden, but they must have been two who escaped the vault, so that would have been Yosha and his third companion. They split somewhere between here and the temple, so we had to divide our investigation into two squads. It was impossible to know which one was their leaders. I assume Yosha being the leader and who the other was. But one of the tracks led, believe it or not, to the tomb I spoke to you about in the shrine not so long ago. The man fled into the tunnel. Later that evening I received the reports of the investigation and I learned that this Artamon did indeed ask a few peculiar questions to, I believe random people, around the hill. Perhaps he spread his questions to people he expected not to talk to each other? And he asked many questions about you and your rumoured powers and about a certain sword. Duke Esmond confirms that he was present, this Artamon, when Duke Esmond found, or, I don’t know exactly what he meant, but at some point Yosha witnessed Duke Esmond carry that weapon?”

Tylendel: “The Prophet sent Syr Yosha south to find Creeping God’s Bane. Lord Esmond intercepted him and brought the blade here.”

Gylian: ”Right. So he did have knowledge about this weapon. My suspicion at this point, then, is that he became too covetous, too greedy, that he wanted this blade to himself. I don’t know. And the helmet. That tunnel… I have sent two scouting patrols into the tunnels, and they’ve discovered that there is a point where it branches off. It’s been difficult to explore. Many are afeared of the darkness below, and there is some sense of… Well, when they return, they are not quite themselves, as if they have somehow been affected by the darkness or… But needless to say, we are still in the process of uncovering several side tunnels, twisting passages. I am surprised to learn it was… In my imagination it was more like one tunnel leading to some place, as is the other. But the hills below us are riddled with passages. I’ve also sent what few mounted men we have to circle the city. We are searching for potential exits.”

Tylendel: “Good.”

Gylian: ”But please, if there’s anything you think I do wrong or could do better, or if there is anything I haven’t’ thought of, please tell me. But I do hope that the powers you showed during the trial can be of use again. I am fairly certain this happened between midnight and dawn that night.”

Tylendel: “Now, who does he serve…”

Tylendel thinks for a while.

Tylendel: “Okay. I will take care of it.”

Gylian: ”I am relieved to hear it.”

They sit thinking for a while, then the door opens and Syr Bohumíl enters with Syr Amon Imlia and Syr Syr Comton. Bohumíl approaches them while his companions remain by the door.

Bohumíl: “Welcome back.”

Tylendel: “Thank you.”

Bohumíl: “How are you?”

Tylendel: “Better than expected.”

Bohumíl: “That is good to hear. I trust Syr Urunmust has briefed you on the goings-on.”

Tylendel: “Yes.

Bohumíl: “Very well. The nave full of Bog-people. The vault broken open.”

Gylian: ”Not broken open. They pilfered the keys from the guard.”

Bohumíl: “Sure. And, of course, but I assume you noticed it yourself, quite a storm.”

Tylendel: “Yes. Quite fortuitous since the Crow-king’s troops didn’t have shelter.”

Syr Gylian gives Tylendel a conspiratorial half-smile, as if he understands the source of the storm.

Bohumíl: “What now?”

Tylendel: “As I told Syr Gylian, there will probably be small groups of Norchtí attacking the walls, so we need to man the walls properly.”

Bohumíl: “Very well. That can be done, once the wind dies down.”

Tylendel: “Yes, and there’s more light now as well.”

Bohumíl: “It’s not just something I imagined?”

Tylendel: “No, I noticed it when I was in Sirry earlier.”

Bohumíl: “You’ve been to Sirry?”

Tylendel: “The city’s deserted.”

Bohumíl: “So the last of the Horvath’s left?”

Tylendel: “I imagine so. They were supposed to go west and follow the Javon River south. That was the plan, at least.

Bohumíl: “Indeed, indeed. Which would put them somewhere in the northern Lowlands, I assume.

Tylendel: “Well, it was a few weeks ago.”

Bohumíl: “Then they must have reached the coast.”

Tylendel: “Hopefully.”

Bohumíl: “Depending on the roads, their wagons, horses, the people…”

Tylendel: “And if they actually followed the Javon.”

Bohumíl: “Indeed.”

Tylendel: “They might have gone all the way to Marlanter.”

Bohumíl: “Let us… Well, it sounds like they must have escaped this terrible weather with a very good margin. That column would have been blown all over the province.”

Tylendel: “Yes. How are we on supplies?”

Bohumíl: “We’re still lucky to have your raid in the harbour district supporting us.”

Tylendel: “Good.”

Bohumíl: “We’ve also been harvesting fruits and vegetables here I the gardens. Things grown, and they grow quickly.”

Tylendel: “Yeah, that might slow down now. The Lady of Summer has been harmed.”

Gylian: ”Is that what happened n the gardens?”

Tylendel: “Yes, it appears Mulendobra didn’t appreciate my hospitality.”

Gylian: ”The escaped woman.”

Tylendel: “Yes.

Gylian: ”Mulendobra?”

Tylendel looks at them for a few seconds.

Tylendel: “The High Queen of Amorion.”

Gylian: ”I was about to say like it sounded like some ancient name. You’re telling us that we have to deal with yet another immortal being?”

Tylendel: “Yes.

Bohumíl: “Why yes.”

He sounds ironical.

Tylendel: “Unfortunately I think we need her.”

Gylian: ”Need her? Is she opposing the Creeping God?”

Tylendel: “Yes. She is on her way to free the Lord of the Hunt. Hopefully he will help us as well.”

Gylian: ”And yet another, one of those…”

Tylendel: “One of the Nine Gods, yes.”

Bohumíl: “There are nine.”

Tylendel: “There are.”

Bohumíl: “And here we have thought for over a thousand years that there was but one, and he was lost at that!”

Tylendel: “Unfortunately he is still lost. He was weakened figh6ting the Creeping God during the Age of Shadows. He was almost defeated, but he survived, and he has been working covertly since then, doing what he can.”

Syr Gylian looks uncomfortable, as he usually does when they talk about the gods, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

Tylendel: “Do defeat Parafor, the Creeping God, we can’t attack him in the Doomed City; he is too powerful there. We need to lure him out of the Doomed City, and for that I think we need the help of the other gods.”

Bohumíl: “If you say so.”

Tylendel: “The children of the gods also take sides.”

Syr Gylian sputters

Gylian: ”They have children now?!”

Tylendel: “Well, as I said, Xandrion is the son of Nysal, the Lady of Infinite Melodies, and I believe, maybe, that the Creeping God is his father.”

Gylian: ”Then there truly are no gods. Beings that we should be able to fight!”

He sounds determined.

Tylendel: “They can be defeated. The first Dragon-king was one of them as well. And, of course, Mitrôn was The Lost God’s son, so…”

Tylendel: “I’m not sure who his mother was though, if it was Loronë, the Lady of the Moon. It’s possible, but I don’t know.”

Gylian: ”These matters are hard to grasp.”

Tylendel: “Yes, and hard to uncover.”

Bohumíl: “That is, my friend, why it’s so well that we have the Greyoak with us. Let him keep his mind on those things, and we’ll do our best here on the Hill.”

Gylian: ”Yes.”

Tylendel: “I am forsaking my duties here, and for that I apologise, but I do trust you to hold the Hill whatever may come.”

Gylian: “It is what it is.”

Bohumíl: “Yes. As you said, we must do with what we have.”

Gylian: “Aye.”

They both seem lost in thought.

Tylendel: “The banners I described for Syr Dostan’s report – did any of you recognise them?”

Bohumíl shakes his head, and Gylian thinks for a while.

Gylian: “The black banner you described, was it rimmed with golden thread?”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Gylian: “That, my friend, is also bad news. That banner belongs to the Order of the Shadow Helms. I doubt you’ve heard about it. A very secretive cult. Which we on the Holy Hill have investigated, attempted to flush out, tried to fight, for a long time. What we know is not much, but at the time that we received the first reports of this group of mounted men wearing helmets painted black, with visors coveting their faces, about the same time a number of bachelor knights, landless knights, from the city and some of the other cities vanished mysteriously. We suspected, not immediately, but when these threads converged, we suspected that perhaps these knights had joined together and created this order. We tracked them eastward, suspecting they had a sort of stronghold somewhere, perhaps in the Eastern Borderlands.”

Bohumíl looks as surprised as Tylendel feels. After Syr Gylian’s story they again sit thinking for a while. Bohumíl seems dissatisfied with the watered wine. After some time Tylendel starts talking again.

Tylendel: “What do you know of Lady Rheië?”

Bohumíl: “Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time. Yes, the outlaw in the Myrhold. Is that who you are referring to?””

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Bohumíl: “She led a group of deviants and criminals and brigands. She was elusive. Perhaps an understatement.”

Tylendel: “But she was noble born, I believe.”

Bohumíl: “The rumours would have it so.”

Tylendel: “When I spoke to her, she acted like a lady. One born of the blood.”

Bohumíl: “You spoke to her?”

Tylendel: “We captured her when we returned from the Sea of Dust. And I believe she’s married to Baron Nathyn Evett now.”

Bohumíl: “Really? Now there’s an odd couple for you.”

Tylendel: “He was rather taken with her. I guess I’ll find out what I need to know when they come here.”

Bohumíl: “Well, whether she was noble or not, she was wanted for the murder of one of the noble families of the city.”

Gylian: “Was it one of the Kremonskis of the Ivans, or…”

Tylendel: “Interesting.”

Gylian: “And for countless thefts of property. But this was before she retreated into the woods, right?”

Bohumíl: “Yes, After that she focussed her attention on the River Road, so I had to contend with, well not her exactly, but her orders quite a lot.”

Gylian: “There were also a lot of strange rumours about her, and they were exaggerated for each time they spread, so it’s difficult to say.”

Bohumíl: “That is true. It’s said she was always wearing a black mask, she took a new lover every night from among her band, she fought with two swords at the same time, she liked to decapitate people, she was possessed by a demon, and so on and so forth. Also that she was a follower of Isä.”

Tylendel: “Yes, Isä.”

Gylian: “What of Isä?”

Tylendel: “I haven’t thought of her. I wonder which one of the Nine she is?”

Gylian: “You think she is one of the Nine?”

Tylendel: “Oh, it would surprise me is she wasn’t. What is she revered for?”

Gylian: “Isä? Well, if there’s anyone left in the province who revers her. Well, it is a faith that existed before these lands became imperial. I believe we had some of her teaching in written form in the library of the temple. But they would probably be gone.”

Bohumíl: “Well we have turned up some books after you ordered a search for books around the Holy Hill.”

Gylian: “They have a secret gathering place, somewhere in the Great Forest, I believe. The House of Kolter, it’s called. It’s but a ruin now, but it looks to have been some house of worship, one way or the other. It is said that the Karklins, perhaps in secret, had some affinity for this heretical faith. There have been people brought to the Holy Hill in the past, accused of following Isä, especially during the times when the Camreys arranged pogroms against them. There was a Darkryver lady who was executed, I believe. No worries, I do not think this was right. At all. It goes against the tenets of the Lost God. To destroy other people is wrong. They should be brought into the fold! I believe she is a venerated, or linked to knowledge and mysteries and secrets. The written word, perhaps, spreading of news, if that makes sense to you. She’s also known as Mother Isä.”

Tylendel: “It does sound like Loröne.”

Gylian: “I believe they were very fond of quite complex rituals, but the main idea that Mother Isä brought to her faith, or to her faithful, was the idea that all the gods, wherever or whenever they worshipped, are true, so you can understand that the Empire was adamant about getting rid of this kind of though, for the mandate of the Lost God requires a singular deity.”

Tylendel: “A mandate written by men.”

Gylian: “I honestly don’t know any more, my friend.”

Tylendel: “The Lost God and the Lady of the Moon were the parents of the Wolf Lord. If the Last God hated all the other gods, well…”

Gylian: “Now you are talking dangerously, my friend.”

Tylendel: “I know.”

Gylian: “There is no hate in the Lost God: Hate belongs in the Creeping God.”

Tylendel: “But I believe that the Lost God was kinder than what the faith says he is. He didn’t want total dominion. It is possible to live in peace with those of other faiths.”

Gylian: “I know, my friend. I know. Unfortunately, many at the Evening Hall disagree.”

Tylendel: “Many at the Evening Hall have succumbed to another god.”

Gylian: “Maybe you are right.”

Tylendel: “There is a trickster, the God in the Blade. He corrupts, he sows discord.”

Gylian: “Another so-called God? One of the Nine!”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Gylian: “Okay.”

Tylendel: “The on that arranged for the forging of Creeping God’s Bane.”

Bohumíl: “The missing blade?”

Tylendel: “Yes. Which he also did by deception, of course.”

Gylian: “A deceiver.”

Tylendel: “Yes. An enemy.”

Gylian: “The root of all that’s being unveiled?”

Tylendel: “Maybe not all, but… He likes stirring up things.”

Gylian: “Why?”

Tylendel: “He’s a sadist. He didn’t create the hate of the Creeping God, but he might have nurtured it some.”

Gylian: “Built it. Awoken it.”

Tylendel: “No, not awoken it, I think the Creeping God did that for himself. But… He added fuel to the fire, certainly.”

Bohumíl: “I don’t know if I like this turn of events. Are you saying I have to treat the Creeping God as a martyr now?”

Tylendel: “Oh, no.”

Bohumíl: “Good!”

Tylendel: “He is guilty of his crimes.”

Gylian: “As we all should be.”

Bohumíl: “But, my friend, before I forget: If you want to, I can order an investigation of the books found so far, to see if there is anything that is useful to your research?”

Tylendel: “Yes. That would be a great help.”

There is a break in the conversation again.

Bohumíl: “I wonder how much time this storm has given us? It looks like it’s dying down. Well, if they’re scattered in all directions and hopefully have lost control of the Night People and perhaps lost a few leaders or something, who knows? Maybe it has given us days!”

Tylendel: “Days, certainly. And they have to cross the Novíla as well.”

Bohumíl: “And the Novíla is running again. Swiftly.”

Tylendel: “Oh, she is raging.”

Gylian: “Swifter than ever before, come to think of it.”

Bohumíl: “Yes. It’s wider.”

Tylendel: “I need to meditate.”

Tylendel stands, and the others stand as well.

Tylendel: “I’ll sit by the fire. If I’, not standing up again in two hours, give me a shake, would you?”

Gylian: “You’re going there.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Gylian: “As you wish.”

Tylendel walks over to the fire, bringing Dalibor’s amulet, and sits down. He meditates, blocking out the sounds of Eras, and tries to aim for Ipeshtir’s Haven.

He’s in a room where he’s not used to meditate, so he arrives in the Between in a strange place. He’s on a wide stone bridge surrounded by pink and purple clouds. There’s a glow in front of him. He stands up and admires the colours for a while, regretting that he’s in a hurry, then throws Syr Dalibor’s amulet over the side of the bridge and starts meditating again.

He arrives in Ilk. There are massive stones floating in the sky above him, and he’s standing on a mile long, cylindrical stone. There’s growth on the top of the stone, and again he stands for a moment admiring the view. Again he travels on.

This time he arrives at the portal to Ipeshtir’s Haven. The Ghostweave isn’t moored, and he enters the room. There’s a cat lying on Ipeshtir’s chest, and Pábes is lying on a sofa, sleeping. Tylendel lets him sleep and walks over to where the mirror usually is. As he approaches the mirror becomes visible.

Tylendel: “Show me where Loronë is.”

The mirror shows Tylendel Ironheart Tower. It moves into the tower and stops when the Duskborn is in full view.

Tylendel: “I’m not sure I appreciate what you’ve done, my lady. Show me where Isä is.”

This time the mirror shows Tylendel a forest that’s been hit by Tylendel’s storm. In the forest there’s a ruin; a tower and some buildings. The tower is surrounded by graves, and Tylendel notice a marble statue of a hooded woman holding many children in her arms. Tylendel tries figuring out where the ruin is, and concludes that it is somewhere north of the Lake of the Ancients.

Tylendel: “Show me where Nysal is.”

The image in the mirror shows Tylendel an unknown, to him, imperial village on a coast. Near the village there’s an impressive fort flying the Imperial banner.

Tylendel: “Show me where Ruis is.”

Tylendel gets a euphoric, almost orgasmic, feeling inside himself. Around him, inside him through him, there are streams of light and colour, wisps of smoke. He feels full of energy and power, as if he’s a part of something greater than himself. After a while he also feels stretched, as if he’s holding on to two different things.

Tylendel: “Hello, Grandfather.”

He feels almost weightless, suffused by a raw, but good, force.

Tylendel: “Enough. Okay, let’s try to focus again, Tylendel. Show me the Crow-king’s assassin in Bormost.”

This time the mirror doesn’t show him anything.

Tylendel: “So he’s either dead or has left. Show me Creeping God’s Bane.”

The mirror shows him Bormost, then the image moves down into the ground. It flows through the ground for a while before showing him Syr Yosha Artamon carrying a wrapped, sword-shaped bundle. Behind him there’s another man carrying a helmet-shaped bundle. They are in tunnels, just arriving at a fork, and Yosha looks exasperated. He chooses a path leading down, where there are stairs hewn into the rock.

Tylendel: “Let’s test what you can do again, dear mirror. Show me who Yosha Artamon intends to deliver Creeping God’s Bane to.”

The image of the tunnels disappears, and the new image shows a column of soldiers following man in heavy armour riding a starved horse. He wears a helmet with a face in front. There are two other riders near him, dressed in similar armour, and three more men walking near them, they wearing the same type of armour. There are three carts in the column, and Tylendel counts around 20 soldiers, some of them women, one of the women dressed in what looks like a wedding dress. Behind the last cart there’s a line of prisoners, and Tylendel recognise them as members of the Company of the Horn. He makes the mirror zoom out, and he recognises the river they’re riding by as the Deepriver, and that they will soon leave the Emalkon Forest, heading south.

Tylendel: “Interesting. This reminds me of something. Show me where Rysart is.”

The mirror zooms north to Morningtown, then veers west, passing one tower, then slows down when it reaches the next, a small garrison fort. It shows Tylendel the great hall of the fort, where there’s a man with blond hair sitting in a corner on the floor, his head resting on his knees.

Tylendel: “Show me where Arakin is.”

Blackness, then the mirror shows Tylendel the root tree that he has seen before.

Tylendel: “Okay. Show me where Mulendobra is.”

Again, blackness, and Tylendel feels the heat of the mirror, making him realise he has over-used it. He focusses on getting back to his body.

Tylendel stands up in front of the fireplace and starts stretching his muscles. He walks over to the corner of the council room where they sat earlier. Duke Esmond and Syr Dostan are also sitting there now. Syr Dostan is sitting in the chair Tylendel occupied, and he rises as soon as he notices Tylendel is awake, placing himself behind the chair as if he’s a bodyguard.

Duke Esmond stands up as well, leaning on his cane.

Esmond: “I am so sorry, my friend. If I had known his intent…”

Tylendel: “Oh, that is quite all right. Please, stay seated.”

Esmond: “Thank you, thank you.”

Tylendel sits down in his chair, smiling at Dostan as he does. He then describes the banner he saw the knights bearing. His companions talk about the banner for a while, asking Tylendel for more details, but the banner is unfamiliar to them.

Tylendel: “No, I believe they are Mirovni. Syr Amon!”

Syr Amon stands up and bows ti Tylendel.

Amon: “Yes, my lord?”

Tylendel: “Would you do me a favour and go outside and see if Black Jaquan is still guarding, and ask him to come in if he is?”

Amon: “I would, but I do not know who that is.”

Dostan: “Oh you’ll know soon enough.”

Tylendel: “You will.”

Dostan: “It’s like a shaggy bear with a human face.”

Amon: “Yes, my lord.”

He clicks his heels and goes outside. Tylendel turns to the others.

Tylendel: “It’s who Yosha Artamon is meeting outside the city.”

Gylian: “I see. I have just told the gentlemen here that you most likely would be able to track the man.”

Tylendel: “Well, poor Syr Yosha is lost under the city. It turns out he doesn’t actually know the way out.”

Gylian: “Well, the first half of his plan was, I admit, fairly good. To find out about the tomb door and escape through it.”

Bohumíl: “It could make one wonder if there are more fake tombs, masquerading an exit.”

Gylian: “I don’t think so, my lord. There was always the two, though I was surprised to learn that this tunnel branches off into more tunnels.”

Tylendel: “The Lady of Summer was worried about the tunnels under the hill.”

Esmond’s eyes grow wide. The others are getting used to Tylendel.

Tylendel: “I sealed the one beneath the temple, but we should keep an eye on other entrances, especially now that Yosha Artamon has opened one of them and maybe made a trail.”

Bohumíl: “We have four guards at all times at the tomb of the second tunnel. Should he find his way back, if that is his only option, we will know.”

Gylian: “The problem is, Yosha might not be the only one who is getting lost.”

Tylendel: “Yes, you sent someone after him, didn’t you?”

Gylian: “Yes. They have not returned.”

Bohumíl: “We should use rope or something. Lots of rope.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Gylian: “We will need pretty many ropes tied to each other if we’re going to explore that way.”

They start talking about exploring the tunnels. Syr Compton walks over to them.

Tylendel: “Duke Esmond, did you ever have a chance to look at the ship before the storm hit?”

Esmond: “No, my lord. I didn’t. There were things I had to take care of.”

Tylendel: “I understand, my friend. I understand.”

Esmond: “Thank you.”

Duke Esmond still looks shaken by the loss of his son.

Tylendel: “In any case, it may not have survived the storm, so… Has anyone of you heard of the Company of the Horn?”

None of Tylendel’s companions have. As that discussion ends, Syr Amon enters and holds the door open for Black Jaquan.

Tylendel: “Jaquan, I need your help about a banner I suspect is Mirovni.”

Tylendel describes the banner yet again. As usual, Jaquan takes his time responding. While waiting, Tylendel realise that everyone is wearing armour.

Jaquan: “Hm. Aye, I do think I know of what company you speak. Or rather, what house you speak of. There are many families among the Mirovni who have the bear as their sigil. But dark blue and light blur divided by a river, it sound to me like the Yázen family, and that, my lord, means, I think, that you have… Why… Why do you ask about this? Have you seen this banner somewhere?”

Tylendel: “There’s a group of them leaving the Emalkon forest now.”

Jaquan: “No, that can’t be true.”

Tylendel: “Half a day away.”

Jaquan: “Why would a company of Mirovnel… There is one commander of the Yázen family, a knight, anointed the imperial way at this, whose name is Yvorhon Yázen, but he serves… He serves in the army of Karakayez. I… Did you see an army?”

Tylendel: “No, there were about twenty of them. Five knights.”

Yaquan staggers backwards, surprised.

Yaquan: “It could mean that you have seen the remnants of a bigger army that is gone, you know.”

Tylendel: “Why is Yosha Artamon taking Creeping God’s Bane to them?”

Yaquan: “I am afraid I don’t think I know. I know only one thing about Syr Yvorhon. If the story you can hear in Karakayaz. That he is a man who people fear. Even other Mirovni. Why he is here, I cannot fathom, and I do hope it doesn’t mean that Mirovnel has lost its army and he is the only thing that is left.”

He looks at Dostan as if for comfort.

Tylendel: “There’s no reason to think that Mirovnel has been invaded.”

Yaquan: “No, on that I agree. For there is no reason to invade my bleak, bleak country. I was rather thinking that, perhaps, the Holy Throne had commissioned this army to join the host for all that is going on here, and that it was destroyed along the way. But you are right. I hope. So many Mirovni, hard to kill.”

Tylendel: “They must have come from the west, not the north.”

Jaquan: “Aye. The Great Forest is a great barrier between the northern provinces and the eastern provinces.”

Tylendel: “No, I believe the Company of the Horn went west. That’s a couple of months ago. And they were prisoners of these men.”

Jaquan: “I am not sure what company you are talking about now, but they had prisoners?”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Jaquan: “They were alive?”

Tylendel: “The prisoners were alive, but the company was larger when last I met the, so I guess some of them died in the skirmish.”

Jaquan: “So Yosha Artamon steals a blade, and you know that he is going to take it to Syr Yvorhan.”

Tylendel: “It seems that way, yes.”

Jaquan thinks for a while, but doesn’t say anything.

Tylendel: “I believe a few companies would do well in taking a trip outside the city. Just enough that we take that band alive, I think.”

The men around the table stir when Tylendel starts talking about doing something other than holding the Hill.

Gylian: “I agree. They sound dangerous.”

He looks at Black Jaquan, who nods at him.

Bohumíl: “Give us all the detail you can, so that we can prepare as best possible, but of course, we have the numbers. It should be impossible not to be able to do this.”

Tylendel: “Oh yes. Overwhelm them with numbers. We can easily, just five companies, and we have them twenty five to one.”

Gylian: “Exactly.”

Syr Compton comes closer to the table. He kneels.

Comton: “I would be honoured if I could be one of the men to take part of this endeavour.”

Everyone looks at Tylendel.

Tylendel: “Of course.”

Compton: “Thank you, my lord.”

Tylendel: “Bohumíl, you asked if there was something to do… Well. Bring together a group of east and west, I believe. Take care of this.”

Bohumíl: “I will.”

Tylendel: “I think… Yes… Good… It would do well for the men to take a trip outside the city now that there is more light. Capture a few knights. It will do them well.”

Bohumíl straightens his back. He has been slumped lately.

Tylendel: “Syr Gylian. You need to find the men you sent down into the tunnels and get them back, then make sure… Try to see if there are any more tunnels, or just make sure that the one we have is secured and watched.”

Gylian: “Yes.”

Tylendel: “Syr Dostan, I believe you have the most archer companies, don’t you?”

Dostan: ”Without a doubt, my lord.”

Tylendel: “If the Norchtí start coming, I suspect they’ll come in small groups, so we need at all times archers on the walls. Plenty of arrows, have some spearmen protecting them as well.”

Bohumíl: ““The quartermaster has been allowed to use our squires to help produce more arrows.”

Tylendel: “Good. If all the Norochtí come at once we will need at least a hundred thousand arrows.”

Bohumíl: “We’re almost there.”

He winks.

Tylendel: “Very good.”

Dostan: “My friend. Would it be prudent to have Jaquan here join the group?”

Tylendel: “Absolutely.”

Jaquan nods.

Jaquan: “I may be able to at least talk to them. Maybe they would, I don’t know. I don’t know if he would trust me because I am Mirovni. He may think otherwise.”

He looks at Dostan

Jaquan: “Maybe he thinks me a traitor for serving you.”

Dostan: “Why would he think that?”

Jaquan: “We Mirovni have never liked the imperial oppression.”

He sounds as if he agrees.

Dostan: “Well, then I… I’m, not forcing you. It’s just a suggestion.”

Jaquan: “I will go.”

Bohumíl: “Good.”

Tylendel: “I prefer to take them alive.”

Bohumíl: “Of course. If I could stop a single drop of blood being spilled any more, I would give my life for that. Never, I believe, has a land seen so much death.”

Tylendel: “Not since the Age of Shadows.”

Gylian: “Not since the Age of Shadows.”

Tylendel: “I am going for a short trip to the north.”

Gylian: “There is one thing. We do not have cavalry. We will have to march.”

Tylendel: “They’re following the Deepriver out of the Emalkon forest. They have three horses, and they’re pulling three wagons. They won’t get away.”

Gylian: “All right. Good.”

Tylendel: “Whenever you’re ready. They won’t get away.”

Esmond: “Perhaps we should travel in a manner that would allow us to come upon them in the dark. Surprise them?”

Bohumíl: “Yes. That would be wise.”

Jaquan: “It would. I do not believe Syr Yvorhan Yázen is a man to be trifled with.”

Dostan: ”North? Do you need assistance? You know I’m still a bit miffed about the day you wanted to leave on your own? And now you’re e doing it again. And again. And every time you come back, so perhaps I should bury that feeling.”

Tylendel: “I move somewhat faster than you, my friend.”

Dostan: “I know, but I cannot help but to offer you my assistance, and that of all the thousands at my command.”

Tylendel: “And for that I thank you. But I am going to see the Lord of the Hunt, so… I don’t think I should bring too many people.”

Tylendel’s stomach starts rumbling. He is on his way to leave, but..

Tylendel: “On second thought, I should get some food first.”

Gylian: “A wise decision. Gentlemen?”

Me motions to the table.

Gylian: “I’ll have the servants bring us something to eat.”

They all move to the long table and have a meal. They sit talking for a while.. Jaquan tells them about the imperial armies in Mirovnel. Dostan expresses surprise that the Prophet sent Yosha do fetch Creeping God’s Bane. Amon Imlia is Bohumíl’s new herald: Amon has been gone for a while, leading a group searching for survivors in the Northwest. He found survivors in a place called Torpyn Manor. Tylendel notice Syr Amon looking at him from time to time, but he doesn’t sense any hostility. After a while they all leave one by one, until only Tylendel and Gylian are left.

Gylian: “So, my friend. You’re going north, you say.”

Tylendel: “To the Great Forest.”

Gylian: “Well, that’s different. Are you actually walked north to the fireplace, but I mean… Usually you don’t leave the walls. Or will you use your powers to go north anyway?”

Tylendel: “I need to be there in person.”

Gylian: “I see. Then you can’t go alone, my friend.”

Tylendel: “No one else is fast enough to travel with me.”

Gylian: “So you will use your powers, then.

Tylendel: “Oh, yes.”

Gylian: “Then I understand.”

Tylendel stands up and cocks his head to one side.

Tylendel: “You do know where my power comes from.”

Gylian: “It’s that place you visit in your meditations. Is it not?”

Tylendel: “The powers come from my blood. From my bloodline.”

Gylian: “Oh. I see.”

Tylendel goes and fetches his gear, bows to Syr Gylian, then leaves the room onto the balcony. He walks past the windows to the council chamber, then lifts himself into the air and flies north.

He flies along the Novíla north – he the province looks more peaceful from the air, though desolate – until he reach the place where the river turns east. He stops for a while, trying to recall where the mirror showed him where the root tree was, then flies in that direction. He flies for some time before finding it, then he descends through the canopy, holding Shadowbreaker. The forest around him is dense and dark, the ground covered in lichen.

Tylendel lands near the root tree and looks at it for a while. He lays down his shield, helm and gauntlets, then starts walking towards the root tree. Before that, as he loosens Red Dancer in its scabbard, he notices a glow from the sword. He draws the blade, and it lights up, much, much stronger than usual.

Tylendel: “Now what’s this about?”

There are lights along the blade – as he watches, the lights turn into Brentonni runes. Tylendel shakes his head, amazed, then tries touching the root tree with the blade: Nothing happens.

Feeling better in the spooky forest, he walks around the tree, studying it. The tree looks like a solid barrier, consisting of thick and thin roots, and between some of the outer roots he can see smaller roots moving and growing. He doesn’t notice anything other that stands out about the tree, and when he looks at it using his Mage Sight, he is almost overwhelmed. The magic in the tree is ancient and strong, way beyond what Tylendel is capable of handling.

Tylendel sits down and lays Shadowbreaker in his lap, then starts casting a mind reading spell. There is some resistance from the roots, then he senses a mind, and it is beastly. There is a seething, primitive rage inside, and a certain amount of madness. It also feels as if it wants to get out, that it is imprisoned. He releases the spell.

Tylendel: “I should have brought Mulendobra. Of course, if Lylas was here, he might have helped me.”

He looks around, not seeing anything. Next, he draws Howler and tries cutting one of the roots – it is like trying to cut stone. The root feels supple as tree, but is stonelike.

Tylendel: “You didn’t think this through, young Greayoak.”

As he sits considering his options, he starts becoming uncertain.

Tylendel: “You should have brought Mulendobra, you idiot.”

He hears a sound in the forest, a twig snapping. Tylendel stands up again, stretching his muscles, then starts walking around the tree, listening and looking through the trees. He spots movement, and his heart starts beating harder. He notices grey fur, then two yellow eyes. He raises his hand towards the eyes and walks back to his shield, trying to appear calm. A gigantic wolf comes towards him.

Tylendel’s heart beats hard as the wolf approaches him, its head lowered. He looks the wolf in the eyes. The hair at the back of his neck rises. Then the wolf bumps his wet nose on Tylendel’s nose. The wolf sits down, and the terror fades from Tylendel.

Tylendel: “Hello, Uncle.”

At first, the wolf doesn’t react, the he suddenly stands up and starts sniffing the tree.

Tylendel: “So how good an idea would it be to release Arakin?”

The wolf stops and turns to Tylendel, looking him in the eye. Then it growls.

Tylendel: “I shouldn’t?”

The beast growls.

Tylendel: “Mulendobra is on her way.”

The fur on the wolf’s back rise, he lowers his front and snarls.

Tylendel: “Well, I think I need both Mulendobra and Arakin’s help if I am to defeat Parafor.”

The wolf cocks its head and studies Tylendel, his tail lowering.

Tylendel: “Loronë is a child yet. She needs some time to grow up.”

Suddenly, the wolf’s head is right in front of Tylendel’s, and it lays its forehead to Tylendel’s. The wolf’s breath makes Tylendel’s body shake. The wolf backs away, the suddenly lays down.

Tylendel: “There’s not any chance you can talk, is there?”

The wold just looks at Tylendel.

Tylendel: “Ah, okay.”

Tylendel sits cross-legged in front of the wolf, and the beast lays its head on its paws.

Tylendel: “I’m not going to harm you, so please don’t resist me.”

He holds his hands out in front of himself, hesitating, then lays his hands on the wolf’s arms. The wolf snuffles as he does so. Tylendel then starts to cast a spell to communicate with Lylas. Again, there is some resistance, as if Tylendel is pushing past the wolf mind, then he gets contact. Lylas’ voice seems distant. Tylendel gets a mental image of Lylas as he remembers him.

Tylendel: “Hello, Lylas.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Greyoak. I remember you.”

Tylendel: “I hope so. So should I call you uncle?”

He smiles.

Wolfy Lylas: “Please, no.”

Tylendel laughs.

Tylendel: “Well, there are a few “greats” ahead of it, I think. Lylas Yelloweyes, Lord of the Wolf, son of Ruis and Loronë.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Sorry. I could not tell.”

Tylendel: “Too many secrets, my friend.”

Wolfy Lylas: “All convoluted.”

Tylendel: “Well, your mother is in Bormost.”

Wolfy Lylas: “I have no mother. Not anymore.”

Tylendel: “Okay, then. Loronë is in Bormost.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Impossible. The Lady of the Moon, imprisoned.”

Tylendel: “Apparently not.”

Wolfy Lylas: “You freed her?”

Tylendel: “My understanding is that when I imprisoned Braek, Loronë was freed. Braek is resting beneath the Holy Hill, behind ten feet of Blacksteel.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Braek…”

Lylas’ emotions show in the wolf – its teeth show.

Wolfy Lylas: “She took me here. Into this body. And other bodies. Of wolves.”

Tylendel: “So is your human body lying around somewhere, or is it destroyed?”

Wolfy Lylas: “The flesh must be long gone. Unless the ice and the cold has preserved it. You… You were always more than you seemed as well.”

Tylendel: “It appears I am, yes.”

Wolfy Lylas: “I did not sense it.”

Tylendel: “My power wasn’t awoken back then.”

Wolfy Lylas: “And I had forgotten much. I almost felt... Human. I served the Guard.”

Tylendel: “Your mother’s army, I’ve been told.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Yeeesss… That sounds true. She made men build Taladorn.”

Tylendel: “Arakin feels very, very angry. Will he help us if we manage to release him?”

Wolfy Lylas: “He should be. No. No. You will unleash a beast.”

Tylendel: “And will Mulendobra manage to keep that beast in rein?”

Wolfy Lylas: “He. Is. Enemy.”

Tylendel: “I thought he was an enemy of Parafor.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Yes. Him too. Parafor. Stole his. Dragons.”

Tylendel: “Yes, he consumed their power and has become dragonflame.”

Wolfy Lylas: “A fire to cleanse. All.”

Tylendel: “Well, I did become more powerful after he burned me.”

Wolfy Lylas: “His spirit rubbed off on you.”

Tylendel: “Or maybe I released some of your father’s spirit from him.”

Wolfy Lylas: “So much. Must have happened to you. I cannot even begin to understand. This knowledge you have gained. You should have been spared.”

Tylendel: “I tried running away, but my people need me.”

Wolfy Lylas: “That is. Noble. I am here. To ensure. His continued captivity.”

Tylendel: “That’s very annoying, because I’ve just freed Mulendobra and convinced her to help me, and she’s on her way here.”

The wolf growls.

Wolfy Lylas: “Then. We will meet her. She would seek. To free. Him.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Wolfy Lylas: “It was. The Queen of Amorion. Who whispered in the ear of Thovis. I was there. At the coronation of. The king. That would be called. Great.”

Tylendel: “I thought Great Thovis served Night.”

Wolfy Lylas: “No.”

Tylendel: “Or was it the wolf who served Night?”

Wolfy Lylas: “The wolves. Of the mist. Not. The wolves. Of ice.”

Tylendel: “Well, the two of you will just have to come to an agreement. I don’t have time for two thousand year old feuds now. I have a world to save.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Mulendobra. Raped him.”

Tylendel: “Who?”

Wolfy Lylas: “Thovis. Her blood mingled with the line of the Dragon Kings.”

Tylendel: “So there is a child of the blood of Mulendobra and Abelian?”

Wolfy Lylas: “Yes. The age of the Dragon Kings. Was only over. When the surface. Blood flows. But now. It must end. The madness. I did not ask for this life. I am sorry for all the pain it has caused you. And others of your kind.”

Tylendel: “Will you stave off your vengeance until I send Mulendobra back to the Between?”

Wolfy Lylas: “My old friend. I am not here. Out of vengeance. Like you. I seek. To protect. If Arakin. Walks free. With Mulendobra at his side. And the Creeping God. Coming. Then all hope. Is lost. Yes. Arokin will fight the Creeping God. But will also. Lay waste to this world. You know this, don’t you? This world can’t handle too many of them. Fighting at the same time. It is a curse they brought with them.”

Tylendel: “But the prisons are breaking.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Ah, yes. It seems so.”

He sniffs the roots again.

Wolfy Lylas: “Ice melting. Chains breaking. Where did you find Mulendobra?”

Tylendel: “The Crow-king took her out of the Starless Halls. She was chained there. I freed her from the Crow-king’s imprisonment.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Better she be free. Than under his influence.”

Tylendel: “Especially since Gaffon has attached himself to the Crow-king’s army too.”

There is a shock that makes the wolf shake.

Wolfy Lylas: “Is he meddling again?”

Tylendel: “Oh, yes.”

Wolfy Lylas: “But he was. Locked away. On the Holy Hill.”

Tylendel: “Yes, but the thing is that no-body told me about that, and I opened the box.”

Wolfy Lylas: “That. Is unfortunate.”

Tylendel: “It was stupid.”

Wolfy Lylas: “I doubt you had a way of knowing.”

Tylendel: “No, I don’t have a way of knowing anything. I’ve had to scratch and claw my way to every bit of knowledge I have.”

Wolfy Lylas: “And. You have done extremely well. You have uncovered and unearthed secrets that no man in this world knows. Should have to know. I sense your blood, my friend. I sense it now that I know where to look. It is strong. You are infused with sorcerous powers.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Aaah. If Gaffon is freed. I could change my mind about. This tree.”

Tylendel: “Last time I sensed Gaffon he was hiding inside a sword carried by one of the captains of the Crow-king’s army.

Wolfy Lylas: “The Lord of Tricksters is a notoriously difficult entity to find. And contain.”

Tylendel: “Well, I have an idea that I might be able to trap whatever sword he’s in inside a container of Blacksteel. But it’s… Challenging.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Perhaps you are clever enough for him. I do not know. But the Lord of the Hunt. Can track him.”

Tylendel: “What about Pentarlys and Nysal? Would they support Gaffon?”

Wolfy Lylas: “No! They want nothing to do. With him. He betrayed their trust.”

Tylendel: “I know Nysal is on the western coast of the Empyre.”

Wolfy Lylas: “I do not know. They. Disappeared. When Braek. Made rise the great ice. They thought. It a shield against. Dragonfire. But she was. On his side.”

Tylendel: “Yes, so I’ve gathered.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Her power is waning now. Thanks to you.”

Tylendel: “I guess it’ll come to another thousand years before she manages to break out of the prison.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Yes. You may have. Separated her. This world. Will feel the aftermath.”

Tylendel: “Do you want your old body back?

Wolfy Lylas: “I doubt you can free me, my friend. Were you that strong. ”

Tylendel: “Is there anything within a few hours of us here that you can’t hold away from us? I’ll be vulnerable while I try.”

Wolfy Lylas: “Will you work sorcery?”

Tylendel: “No.”

Wolfy Lylas: “There are many dangers in these woods. But not. To me. Until she arrives.”

Tylendel: “Hegaan’s sisters are probably angry at me as well.”

Wolfy Lylas: “You speak of the Witches of Ardoun.”

Tylendel: “Well, I know they’re witches. Hegaan tried to kill me.”

Wolfy Lylas: “I cannot believe. They are still around.”

Tylendel: “Okay. Protect me.”

Tylendel releases the spell, and the wolf stands up, snarls, then walks away from the root tree. It stands there looking at Tylendel. Tylendel lays Shadowbreaker at his side, concentrates, and tries to reach Ipeshtir’s Haven for the second time that day.

He finds himself on a moss-covered rock in Ilk, and spots the entrance to Ipeshtir’s Haven on a rock not far from him. He flies over and enters. Pábes is sitting in front of the fire, trying to make it burn.

Tylendel: “Hi, Pábes. Just a quick trip. I need to move a spirit from one body to another.”

Pábes: “Okay.”

He continues poking the fire. Tylendel stops and looks at Pábes, then shrugs. He turns to the mirror and feels its temperature – it is cool, but not cold.

Tylendel: “Show me Lylas’ human body.”

The mirror shows Tylendel a glacier: The entrance to Askalant. It sweeps into the buried city, then focusses on some bones, a human and a wolf. Tylendel’s heart sinks, then the mirror moves on and finally focus on an icy cocoon that seems to hold a human body.

Satisfied, Tylendel focusses his mind and tries to summon the cocoon to Ipeshtir’s Haven. He has to strain to make it, but the ice appears in front of him, and it does indeed seem to hold a body. He wills the cocoon to thaw.

Tylendel: “Thaw.”

Pábes, having finally lit the fire, notices the ice.

Pábes: “Oh! You have to bring it closer.”

The ice starts melting under Tylendel’s hands.

Pábes: “You don’t think it’s better to put it- There’s a man inside!”

Tylendel: “Well, that is the reason I fetched him, Pábes. Meet Lylas Yelloweyes.”

Pábes: “It’s a Moon Guard. Corpse.”

Tylendel: “Yes. Lylas, remember? The big wolf we saw in the mirror?”

Pábes: “What do you think will happen when it thaws?”

Tylendel: “I have to be quick to send it back to Eras.”

Pábes: ”What are you doing? What’s going on?”

Tylendel: “Braek trapped Lylas’ spirit within a mist wolf. I have to bring Lylas’ body back to where me and the wolf are, then move his spirit from the wolf to the body.”

Pábes: “Oh. Well, tell me if you need any assistance.”

Pábes walks back to his lectern.

After a while, Lylas is lying on the floor, mostly as Tylendel remembers him. His gear, clothes, a hauberk and a Moon Guard tabard, are worn. He has a scar from his left ear to his mouth, that Tylendel hasn’t seen before.

Tylendel first wills Lylas’ clothes and equipment to be as new, then summons a bow and a quiver full of arrows for Lylas. Finally he summons the Brentonni blade he stole from the Deserter and lays all the gear on Lylas’ body. He turns to the mirror.

Tylendel: “Show me where I am in Eras.”

The mirror slowly shows him the root tree. Tylendel’s body now lies in a foetal between two roots, and Lylas the Wolf lying in front of him, guarding him. Tylendel focusses on moving Lylas’ body and his gear in front of the wolf.

The strain is just as hard as when he fetched the body, but the body appears in Eras. The wolf stands up, its hackles rising. Tylendel is suddenly dizzy, and he takes deep breaths, trying to calm his mind.

The cat that lay on the mantelpiece when Tylendel entered the room is now drinking from the large puddle of water that formed on the floor when Lylas thawed.

Tylendel: “Could you bring me a glass of wine, Pábes, please?”

Pábes: “Hm?”

Tylendel: “Could you bring me a glass of wine?”

Pábes: “Well, that sounds like a good plan.”

He looks at the floor and hesitates for a moment, then sets his sandaled feet in the water and walks over to the chest.

Tylendel: “Why didn’t you just will it dry?”

Pábes: “Hmm?”

Tylendel: “Why didn’t you just will the water away?”

Tylendel wills the water away, and the water disappears. The cat lets out an indignant meow.

Tylendel: “Sorry, kitty.”

Pábes: “Whew! I know that you are able to conjure whatever you think of into existence, but, I’m sorry, that’s not for me. Except when Ipeshtir allows me to use this chest.”

He pulls out a wine bottle formed like a sexy woman. On the front the words Ibiravian Black is embossed.

Pábes: “Ibiravian Black.”

Tylendel sighs

Pábes: “This will do.”

He pours two glasses.

Pábes: “Here’s to dry floors!”

Tylendel looks at the mirror to see how the wolf reacts, but it’s turned black.

Tylendel: “Shhhit! Show me Lylas.”

Pábes: “Huh?”

The mirror shows Tylendel the scene he saw earlier, with the wolf standing in front of his body, growling. Tylendel sips his wine.

Tylendel: “Ah, lovely. To be honest I don’t even know if what I’m going to try to do is possible.”

Pábes: “And what is that?”

Tylendel: “That wolf has the spirit of the wolf and Lylas. I need to move Lylas’ spirit into the body.”

Pábes: “Aaah! Now I understand. He’s trapped in a wolf, and you want him back in his body.”

Tylendel: “Yah.”

Pábes: “Huh.”

Tylendel does feel a little better about Pábes being so casual. And he starts willing Lylas’ spirit from the wolf into the corpse.

Suddenly, the wolf starts twitching.

Pábes is holding the glass to his mouth, not drinking.

The wolf is padding around the tree, shaking its head, its fur.

Tylendel is barely holding on to the sorcery, the wolf snarling in his mind.

An arm of the body twitches, and the wolf goes over to it.

Suddenly, he no longer feels the wolf in his mind, and Lylas’ body starts twitching, lifting itself into the air. His eyes open and his skin flushes. Tylendel has never seen a face as stunned by surprise before. Lylas stands up, checking his body, then walks over to Tylendel’s body. He kneels next to it, laying a hand on its shoulder. In the Between, Tylendel feels as if his brain has run ten miles.

Tylendel: “Okay, I’m going back now, I need some rest.”

Tylendel empties his wine and claps Pábes on the shoulder – Pábes cheers.

Pábes: “This one had a kick. What do you think?”

Tylendel: “It’s a good… God wine. But.”

Pábes: “I assumed you would be more appreciative… It’s an Ibiravian Black!”

Tylendel: “Oh, it was a lovely wine, Pábes, but I’m… I’m worn out now.”

Pábes: “Oh. Sorry, sorry. Of course you are. I’m just… ”

He flushes a little.

Pábes: “Grateful for some company.”

Tylendel: “I understand. Oooh. I need to go back to my body and rest.”

He slaps Pábes’ shoulder again, and heads back to his body.

Pábes: “But… Grateful for company…”

Tylendel wakes up. He sees Lylas standing over him, at a loss for words. He sits up.

Lylas: “What you have achieved here, my friend… I now understand how you can be so full of knowledge and power. This rivals Braek! Yet you are not of her world. Nor am I. Yes, his blood is strong in you.”

Tylendel: “Oh yes.”

Lylas: “My friend, you shattered this merging of wolf and man.”

Tylendel: “Do you want to know how close it was?”

Lylas: “No.”

Tylendel: “Okay.”

Lylas: “There is something else coming closer which would require our attention.”

Tylendel: “She’s here?”

Lylas: “Soon.”

Lylas looks up, and from sitting over Tylendel being a friend, the ranger is back. He looks around, smells the wind. He notices he has a bow and a sword.

Tylendel: “Welcome back, Lylas.

Lylas: “This sword… Tell me! Where did you get this sword?!”

Tylendel: “I stole it from the Deserter. Gaffon was hiding in it.”

Lylas: “The Deserter? What deserter?”

Tylendel: “You know, that Moon Guard who deserted. He became a khapa of the Áhar. I don’t recall his name.”

Lylas: “He had this blade?! That piece of scum?!”

Tylendel: “I do suspect that it was Gaffon’s doing.”

Lylas: “This is Phantom. It may not look like much, not as much as it once did, but I recognised it immediately. It belonged to one of the Dragon Kings of old, and it is quite deadly.”

As Lylas is talking, Tylendel taps the hilt of Red Dancer.

Lylas: “You have a blade too, haven’t you? That pommel…”

Tylendel stands up and draws Red Dancer. The blade lights the area around them.

Lylas: “The Lord Commander’s blade.”

Tylendel: “Aaah. You don’t know, do you? What happened to the Moon Guard.”

Lylas sighs

Lylas: “I do.”

Tylendel is relieved that he doesn’t have to tell him.

Lylas: “I saw what had happened to the Hall. They were mercilessly, ruthlessly, thrown into the abyss.”

Tylendel: “Did the Sleeping Snake shamans control them or something?”

Lylas: “That might be, but I did find tracks suggesting those horrid Warpriests of the Night People.”

Tylendel: “And the black water, is that the Pale Lord’s doing?”

Lylas: “No? Who is this Plea Lord?”

Tylendel: “He was one the first to come here. Death.”

Lylas: “Old Bones.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Lylas: “He is not of the other world. I wouldn’t presume to know. All I can truly say about him is that I know that he is terrible. Final, when he comes for you.”

Tylendel: “Yeah.”

Lylas: “Unless you have a Greyoak at your side!”

The wolf has lain down in front of Lylas, looking up at him.

Lylas: “Those black waters, though… They must… I am not sure, but it is said that when the Creeping God was at last contained, his struggles against his chains made the world bleed. Black, vile waters bubbling up. That is how, at least one tribe of the Áhar, explained the existence of these murky, foul waters I watched over. They call it the Blood of the Sleeping God.”

Tylendel: “And why is Quinton Messny climbing down to the water, fetching the bones of our comrades, and carrying them to the Stormcrypt?”

Lylas: “That sounds ominous. Who is this Quinton Messny?”

Tylendel: “He’s one of the Moon Guards. A rapist and a murderer.”

Lylas: “This was before the Fall of the Hall, I take it.”

Tylendel: “He tried raping me at the Raventhrone that time when Eld and I found you at the Black Lakes.”

Lylas: “I mean… There are more Moon Guard alive than you and Eld? That was his name, wasn’t it. Eld.”

Tylendel: “Eld is sleeping. He’s been sleeping for months now. Something’s taken hold of him.”

Lylas: “A prisoner of sleep.”

Tylendel: “As is Syr Florian.”

Lylas: “That name is familiar.”

Tylendel: “There have been rumours of others as well, but… There were some in Sirry. They… Died.”

Lylas: “Sirry.”

Tylendel: “They’d been holding… Well, trying to hold on to order in the few years since the Creeping God awoke.”

Lylas: “What is Sirry?”

Tylendel: “A city. West of Bormost.”

Lylas: “I see. Hm. I remember when there stood but a wooden watch tower atop one of those hills. The land south of it was not devoid of people. There were tribes, fallen back to a more primitive state during the Age of Shadows. It wasn’t truly an Age of Shadows, I can tell you. Not like this. For an Age. The darkness was averted before all life died out. The true leveller of the kingdom of Brentonnia was the ice.”

Tylendel: “Parafor brought fire and Braek brought ice, eh?”

Lylas: “Parafor brought darkness. And that darkness, thought it lasted no more than perhaps ten days, was remembered more vividly, for it was all around people. It caused panic and terror. The Ice was much slower and insidious in its coming. But the darkness was what made them haste. They had to contain the Creeping God before that darkness would smother all life. Without that light and warmth, everything dies. Ice preserves.”

Tylendel: “Yes, like Askalant.”

Lylas: “And certain personages found therein.”

Tylendel: “Well, she is entombed in Blacksteel now.”

Lylas: “Where?”

Tylendel: “Tamolyn Pahórek.”

Lylas: “Another imprisonment for her.”

Tylendel sighs, tired.

Tylendel: “So how many of the Elders, like you, are around?”

Lylas: “I am not sure quite what you’re asking but, are you speaking of the descendants of the Nine?”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Lylas: “For some descended from them, others descended from one of them, and humans. And of those, again, were born the blood that still remembers. I am around. Again. And for that you will have my eternal gratitude, or for as long as it takes before I am gone again. Before I came to be part of the wolf, there were a few more.”

Tylendel: “I’m guessing the Lord of the Myrfolk is one.”

Lylas: “They have a lord?”

Tylendel: “They arrived, hundreds of them, in Bormost a few days ago. They’d been told by their lord to seek shelter.”

Lylas: “Possibly. I can’t rule it out. Myrhold men descend from different tribes and peoples, including the Olgurs, who themselves were descendants of the Brentonnians. Perhaps one among them carries the blood, and if so, it could explain how this people have been able to both stay out of imperial annexation and keep themselves alive in a place that is not quite hospitable to mankind. But I am afraid I don’t know. I am not all-knowing. I had a brother. A half-brother. He was known as Howling Moon among the people of Northern Brentonnia. I wouldn’t put it past him to be alive. He served Mother Snow, whom you call Braek.”

Tylendel: “Any chance he’s related to the manwolves?”

Lylas: “Absolutely. He served the Mother of Snow, as I served the Sister of Silver.”

Tylendel: “Well, I understand how you came to know about Howler, now.”

Lylas: “One of five daggers forged in an attempt to create weaponry that would destroy her.”

Tylendel: “Six.”

Lylas: “Are you sure about that?”

Tylendel: “I have Howler here. Bohumíl has Wail. Syr Dostan has Shriek. There are two within the tomb of Braek, and Mulendobra had one, or at least she took one from the Crow-king. That makes six.”

Lylas: “I do not doubt you. Your knowledge is impressive. I am aware of five.”

Tylendel: “And who asked Lug to make them?”

Lylas: “The daggers?”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Lylas: “I believe Braek asked Lug to forge these daggers at the Moonstone Forge for her, but someone enchanted them to work against her. To make them deadly for her. Made them negate her power.”

Tylendel: “How about Isä? Is she a child as well?”

Lylas: “Who?”

Tylendel: “Isä.”

Lylas: “Isä… Mother Isä, the foundation of the following, the religion Kobian Camrey tried so hard to stamp out. And almost did. Yes, I know Mother Isä. She was the daughter of the Lady of Summer.”

Tylendel: “The Lady of Summer is… She’s not one of the Nine, is she?”

Lylas: “No. You are right about that as well.”

Tylendel: “Then who’s the Lady of Summer?”

Lylas: “You would know her by the name Valenta. The long years made her a saint of the faith, but in truth she was a woman who had a tryst with one of the Nine, and out of that came Mother Isä and her brother. Twins.”

Tylendel: “The Lady of Summer is hailed as a saint of the Lost God Found.”

Lylas: “Yes.”

Tylendel: “I she your father’s lover?”

Lylas: “You believe him to be my father.”

Tylendel: “Ruis, yes.”

Lylas: “Maybe he is. But yes. I assume that you have gathered enough knowledge to know that Ruis’ seed spread far and wide.”

Tylendel: “Well, yes, that’s why I called you uncle, since if you are his son and he was the father of Mitrôn, and I am of the blood of Mitrôn… Then that would make you my great-great-many times great uncle.”

Lylas: “Are you saying we have a family reunion here?”

Tylendel: “In a way.”

Lylas: “I have no memory of my younger years.”

Tylendel: “Mulendobra said you were the child of Ruis and Loronë. I don’t know if I trust her, but I found other things that, well, implies it as well.”

Lylas: “Then I assume that it could be the case. I do have… Well, yes. She is one of the Nine. Her knowledge would surpass ours, both.”

Tylendel: “Well, I did impress her with my storm.”

Lylas: “It was yours?”

Tylendel: “Yes, I needed to slow down the Crow-king’s army.”

Lylas: “Well, then you impress me again.”

Tylendel: “It might have been excessive. I know where Isä is.”

Lylas: “Do you now?”

Tylendel: “Yes. But I’m starting to get quite angry at Mulendobra, because I think she has hurt the Lady of Summer. The Lady of Summer was buried at the Everspring Garden.”

Lylas: “Mulendobra is twisted by pain and the madness that comes with it. I’m sure she can say things and be truthful about it, but only if it gains her. She seeks, ironically, peace. Not peace in this world, but peace in herself. She would drain life of anything if that could somehow help her. Mulendobra, Parafor, Gaffon, and Arakin. They are the ones who care least about the life and future of these lands.”

Tylendel: “Oh, ah, shit.”

Lylas tapes the root tree.

Lylas: “You would think that this one would be the one who cared the most. And he did, once.”

Tylendel: “Xandrion’s spear is in there with him, isn’t it?”

Lylas: “There is a legend that the head of his spear was stuck in Arakin’s body.”

Tylendel: “The haft of his spear is carried by the man who took me from my mother.”

Lylas: “You were an orphan. I remember now.”

Tylendel: “Yes, I wonder how much Lord Emon knew about who my father was.”

Lylas: “Emon Ingham. Emon Ingham. Suddenly he returns to me, in my mind’s eye. Yes. His lands so close to the mountains. I remember, now, when copper was found in such great quantities in the hills. And I stood on a ledge, watching, as a people of strangers arrived, in great flocks, to mine the hills and the earth. Not knowing that north of them the Moon Guard had already long been guarding the Seals of the Night.”

Tylendel: “What corrupted the Watchers?”

Lylas: “Mostly the loss of knowledge, and the passing of years. The Moon Guard, while its name remains, forgot its origins. Few knew why they called themselves Men of the Moon, why they spoke “murumanos lebé”, they just did. For, at some point, it became the more pragmatic, imperial border guard.”

Tylendel: “The only thing we knew was to check the seals, but we didn’t know what to do if they cracked.”

Lylas: “Nor know why they were there in the first place.”

Tylendel: “Yeah.”

Lylas: “Until they did crack.”

Tylendel: “Then it was far too late.”

Lylas: “And I knew that the time had come. I kept alive memories, though many have fled me. And now you have found many old secrets.”

He looks up.

Lylas: “And I see someone is near.”

The wolf stands up and looks up as well. It sits back and let loose a howl that make Tylendel’s ears ring. The howl echoes through the woods.

Tylendel: “Do you speak Amorioni?”

Lylas: “No.”

Tylendel: “Well, shit.”

Lylas: “A few words perhaps I would recognise. ”

Tylendel: “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll need to cast another spell to understand her. She doesn’t speak Paksí.”

Lylas: “Why would you need to understand her? Fury is coming. There is no reasoning with fury.”

Tylendel: “Then how do we defeat her?”

Lylas: “The way you defeated Braek. The way Arakin was defeated, I was defeated. We are doomed to linger here. There is no way to get us removed beyond imprisonment.”

Tylendel: “Yes, there is.”

Lylas: “Banishing. No, the Twilight Gate is destroyed.”

Tylendel: “I am going to repair it.”

Lylas: “Hmf.”

He smiles and looks Tylendel up and down.

Tylendel: “That’s how I got her to be on my side. I promised her to return her to Candath.”

Lylas: “Where is that?”

Tylendel: “In the Between.”

Lylas looks quizzical.

Lylas: “Which is…? Between what?”

Tylendel: “Where they were born. Where the Nine come from. Where the Twilight Gate leads.”

Lyles sits down, looking stunned.

Lylas: “Hm. I expected to spend the rest of this world’s lifetime inside this one.”

He pats the wolf.

Lylas: “Instead, I am returned to my body to be met by a young man I’ve met before, but who isn’t that man any more. Hm. There is one thing missing, however. If I had the time, I would search for it. Here, in the dark depths of the Ókr. I feel direly in need of pipe weed.”

Tylendel: “I’m sorry, I don’t use that.”

Lylas: “Oh! No, I’m probably better off, but you know. It’s been a while.”

Tylendel points at the pouches at Lylas’ belt.

Tylendel: “You do know you’re wearing the clothes you had when you were frozen?”

Lylas starts patting himself.

Lylas: “Maybe, if there is something here, maybe it is…”

He finds some pipe weed.

Lylas: “Well, what do you know?”

He starts patting himself again, then finds his pipe.

Lylas: “That sword of yours….”

Tylendel: “I’m sorry, it’s cold.”

Lylas: “Very well, do you have flint and steel? Or I’ll do it the old fashioned way.”

Tylendel: “I’m afraid I don’t.”

Lylas: “Oh, don’t be afraid. I’ve missed the texture of bark. The smell of moss. The feeling of earth between your fingers.”

He starts gathering lichen to make a fire.

Tylendel: “So would the best thing be to just trap Mulendobra until I’ve repaired the Gate?”

Lylas: “You’re serious?!”

Tylendel: “Of course I am.”

Lylas: “How do you propose to make a gate of that kind?!”

Tylendel: “It’s tricky, but doable.”

Lylas: “Gablug Maístor did it.”

Tylendel: “I have his diary.”

Lylas: “I wasn’t aware he wrote a diary.”

Tylendel: “He did.”

Lylas: “It must be very interesting. Today I went to the forge. Tomorrow I am going to the forge.”

Tylendel: “It was more that he described how to build things, like Braek’s daggers, Creeping God’s Bane…

Lylas: “You found his manual!”

Tylendel: “The Twilight Gate. The cylinders he’s using to move instantly.”

Lylas: “You found the manual?!”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Lylas: “But… It was lost. In the great calamity that buried the Tomb of Lug.”

Tylendel: “It’s been found.”

Lylas: “Yes. It’s okay. I vow, I shall not be surprised from now on.”

Lylas starts making a fire.

Tylendel: “Mulendobra is dead set on freeing Arakin.”

Lylas: “That’s why I’m here.”

Tylendel: “But… The anger, the ferocity, I felt in there. Can it be reasoned with? Can it be contained? Can it be chained, controlled?”

Lylas: “It is, right now.”

Tylendel: “Yeah, but Mulendobra is going to free it.”

Lylas: “No. That’s why I’m here.”

Tylendel: “I have great strength. I know things.”

Lylas: “I know you know things.”

Tylendel: “But I’ve faced an image of the Creeping God, and he nearly killed me. I need help if I’m to face him and defeat him, and throw him back into the Between.”

Lylas: “So you are going to build a gate that actually is going to work. I like your ambition and your attitude. But I’m worried about the possibilities. But as I said. If we could turn Arakin against Parafor, we do. Well. It might, if not break the world, break these lands. But he is, and has been, for as long as I know, very unhappy with Parafor’s decision to lure his dragons to his side. Arakin brought the dragons. Parafor took them. And her ice killed them.”

Tylendel: “I cannot risk Arakin and Parafor fighting and destroying these lands. It’s what I’m trying to prevent: I don’t want more destruction.”

Lylas: “I understand. It could be that the price, the sacrifice, if you will, is destruction. But did you say that you knew the location of the Sister of Infinite Melody?”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Lylas: “The Sister of Serenades. The Lady of Song. Well, that’s one thing. But where is the other?”

Tylendel: “I haven’t had time to search for her yet.”

Lylas: “You do know of whom I speak, I hear.”

Tylendel: “The Sister of Temptation. Pentarlys.”

Lylas: “Hm. Temptation?”

Tylendel: “That’s what she was called in the scroll I found about them and Gaffon tricking Lug into making Creeping God’s Bane.”

Lylas: “Ah, all right. As you undoubtedly know, they carry many names. Another by-product of the Ages and the mingling of cultures and the tradition of storytelling. We have spoken of her before this – whatever it is, day, night. She is the mother of Valenta.”

Tylendel: “So we punch her in the face until she loses consciousness then we wrap her in Blacksteel?”

Lylas: “Somehow we must contain her. I do not have the power you possess, unfair as that may seem. I have only but a fragment of that power. Weakened by the many years I have wandered this land.”

Tylendel: “But you do sense her coming?”

Lylas: “Well, you have been gone for quite a while. She must be near now.”

Tylendel: “Very well. You’re gonna have to look after me again.”

Tylendel sits down near a tree.

Lylas: “Before I do that, I have to repeat the question I had earlier. Do you have flint and steel?”

Tylendel: “I’m sorry, no.”

The wolf growls.

Lylas: “I have another question.”

Tylendel: “What?”

Lylas: “What exactly do you do?”

Tylendel: “I go to the Between.”

Lylas: “Huh. Should I wake you if she arrives?”

Tylendel: “No.”

Lylas: “Y- What if I fail? You will be defenceless.”

Tylendel: “I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Lylas squints at Tylendel, and Tylendel winks back.

Lylas: “When I first met you, I admit I thought of you as another pampered new recruit. Now… But now I feel surpassed. And that is fine.”

Tylendel focusses on reaching the Between.

He opens his eyes. It takes him a few seconds to adjust, but when he does he seems surrounded by small, pulsating lights. He finds himself on a flat, black floor. On the walls are many yellow lights, pulsating. For a moment he things himself back in Maelstrom Fortress, but the smell feels wrong. He tries to move on.

He finds himself on a red, dusty plain, a warm wind blowing in his face, carrying dust. In front of him is a gigantic arch of rainbow-like steel, held up by monstrous columns. There are structures and lights on the arch. There is a moon hanging low over the desert. He also notices that his body looks ethereal. Again, he is fascinated, but feels in too much in a hurry to explore. He moves on.

This time he finds himself in Ilk, on a small, windblown rock floating in the sky. In the distance he can see light glinting off the roofs of Yungul Goz. A shadow comes above him – an island floating past him a few metres over his head.

Tylendel: “Ah, I am not getting used to that.”

As the stone pass, he sees massive tentacles emerging from the rock, as if propelling the stone.

Tylendel: “No. Fuck no.”

He moves on, and this time he finds himself at the portal to Ipeshtir’s Haven.

Tylendel: “That’s just wrong.”

He enters the room, and Pábes looks up at him. Tylendel hears the clunk of a bottle being placed on a table.

Pábes: “Hello there.”

Tylendel: “Have you emptied the bottle?”

Pábes: “Uuuh… No?”

He blushes.

Tylendel: “I’m going to imprison a goddess.”

Pábes: “All right.”

Tylendel walks over to the mirror.

Tylendel: “Show me Mulendobra.”

Pábes looks as if to answer, then realise that Tylendel is talking to the mirror.

The mirror shows him the Great Forest. He realise that she is close to the southern edge, not yet in the Great Forest proper.

Tylendel: “Show me where the spirit of Valenta is.”

The image doesn’t change.

Tylendel: “Bitch. Well, I’ve done it once…”

Tylendel tries willing the spirit of Valenta out of Mulendobra. He pushes himself to the limit, and at first he fails.

Pábes: “Are you all right?”

Tylendel: “Give me that wine.”

Pábes hands him a half full glass, and Tylendel empties it.

Pábes: “See, I hadn’t. Don’t destroy yourself my friend.”

Tylendel: “You fucking bitch.”

Pábes: “Tylendel Greyoak. I’ve asked you nicely, several times…”

Tylendel concentrates again.

Tylendel: “Valenta, you belong in the Everspring Garden. Mooove!”

Again, he fails.

The strain and frustration he feels makes him try one last time, and this time…

… Sweat is running down his temples…

… It feels like he grabs Mulendobra, and pulls Valenta out of her. Suddenly, there is a light, spreading through the forest floor, the light of summer.

Tylendel almost falls over, but he barely manages to stay upright. His knees are shaking.

Pábes: “Did you do it?”

Tylendel: “I’m halfway there.”

Pábes: “Where? Here?”

Tylendel: “To my goal.”

Pábes: “Oh.”

Tylendel makes the mirror focus on Mulendobra again, and now she is moving much slower. Still, Tylendel guesses that she will reach the root tree in less than half a day.

Pábes is rooting around in the chest.

Pábes: “I could swear I saw two.”

Tylendel feel so weak that he is uncertain of whether he can manage to get back to his own body. He summons a large pillow on the floor behind him, and he sits down.

Pábes places another bottle of wine on the table.

Pábes: “What do you think, one more?”

Tylendel: “No, I just to need to rest now. I need to…”

Pábes: “It’s incredibly tasty. It’s just… It’s like the Everspring Gardens is growing in my mouth. Well, that was a bad metaphor, wasn’t it…”

Pábes’ voice keep droning on. Tylendel is trying to keep his focus on Mulendobra. He feels he has some time, and is afraid that if he doesn’t keep his eyes on her, time may pass enough that Mulendobra reaches the root tree while he looks another way.

He loosens his grip on the mirror and lays down to rest, just for an hour. Tylendel falls asleep.