"The Hatred Tribunal"
(WC 2185)
-[ ]-
Months passed and Chulon fell into a routine. He rarely thought about his duty to the southern kingdoms any more, so deeply had he repressed his true identity. Outwardly, he acted every bit like a true believer in the Nhymiggai cause. It was a fine line he walked, twisting his disgust and hatred for the Nhimyggai into an apparent hatred toward the southern kingdoms.
Dremmech had relentlessly examined the minds of all his followers, keeping a sharp eye on them at all times. It was obvious he trusted nobody. As the time passed, his army grew, filling out with more and more eager recruits. Some were from other clans, but Chulon noted that Lom did not question or prevent their addition to the ranks of the Nhimyggai. Those who possessed knowledge of magic were more highly valued than the rest, and were promoted accordingly. Chulon exhibited no magical ability to his superiors, not wanting to rise in the ranks or appear as anything other than mundane now. Dremmech was descriptive enough of the Nhimyggai plans to eventually bring him all the information he would need. The only movement within the ranks Chulon did attempt was to ingratiate himself to Dremmech in the hope of attaining information more quickly.
He had come to fear and respect the power of the Nhimyggai as time passed. Though their magical abilities were questionable and obviously no match for the power of Dour Gujhest, he started to recognize a different power within their ranks. It was a festering sort of persuasion that seeped outward from their very presence. They were hidden and insidious, an aspect which might just grant them enough of an edge to seriously damage the order of the southern kingdoms. Little by little, Chulon was becoming a believer, but not for the sake of hope – for the sake of despair.
He began to wonder if simply bringing warning to the Ortakij would be enough. It would be difficult enough to secure their belief about a hidden source of power like the Nhimyggai. Chulon also recognized an arrogance in himself which would hinder any real preparation against the threat of the Nhimyggai. Once he revealed the Nhimyggai, there would still remain an overconfidence in the southern kingdoms – an unwillingness to believe there could be any power they may need to fear. The Ortakij had been burned by such arrogance before, the loss of Celeukra was a testament to this. Perhaps it was the Nhimyggai who has orchestrated that assault as well. But history would be no teacher here, the Ortakij believed themselves to have prevailed against the might of the northern tribes. They were vigilant, but unshaken.
The Nhimyggai respected the southern kingdoms, if nothing else. They understood the power of their enemy and it inspired them to leverage every ounce of cunning and strategy they possessed. Chulon thought it best to wait for an opportunity to not simply reveal the Nhimyggai and their plans, but to expose them in a moment of true power so the southern kingdoms would be able to see and understand the truth of their enemy.
Revealing Nhimyggai power would be a difficult task. As much as Chulon had come to respect the mysterious group during his involvement, there were very few examples of their ability he could directly point to. Theirs was mostly a campaign of propaganda and endless meetings. Over and over again, the recruits were hounded by Dremmech with generic messages of impending triumph. With every meeting Chulon felt a little more despair creep in. Every time they gathered to speak together about the inevitable triumph of the Nhimyggai, Chulon believed it a little more. He felt the weight of their philosophy enveloping his mind. It was suffocating, filled with a power and presence he had not experienced before. He searched out their words for the taint of magic, thinking they were casting some sort of spell on their audience, but he could find no hint of it. They were leveraging a power he had not experienced before, yet Chulon could not spare the honesty to contemplate it. Revealing his inmost thoughts would be too dangerous. So he took it all in instead, slowly sinking into despair as he came closer to Dremmech.
This routine was interrupted, though, when Dremmech announced a special induction to a secret meeting of the higher powers within the ranks of the Nhimyggai. There was another tier as Chulon had suspected and he was interested to discover who the players would be at this level. As part of their training and preparation for the war ahead, they were to learn new details about the grand plan of the Nhimyggai. Ponyeth assured them war was close at hand.
This new meeting was an enormous gathering, led by Tiernanuu himself. Though Chulon was extremely interested in discovering all he could about this new player, he could also feel a tinge of danger the minute he joined the assembly, as though the power of Tiernanuu's presence were a heat which singed him as he approached. He sensed this new player was far more potent a threat than the creeping presence of Dremmech. They would all be allowed to speak with Tiernanuu, Ponyeth assured him, it was the final step in their training and preparation.
“The Southern Kingdoms have made an error,” Tiernanuu began the meeting with a jubilant tone, “and our time of victory is at hand.”
Everyone fell silent in anticipation, wondering what mistake the great enemy might have made.
“For centuries, the three lands of Akij have been held together by the strength of their greatest bond. They respect each other. They hold each other up. They provide support and aid in times of trial. When the tribes of the north came together against the Ortakij with the biggest display of power this island has ever witnessed, the potency of their attack was dulled by this very bond. We took back Celeukra, we pushed their border south, yet the Ortakij were bolstered anew when the Jaltikij donated supplies and lands to the Ortakij. They were refreshed when the Sinzakij sent their own armies to the new border to support their patrols and build a new bulwark. We spent our collective resources, drained ourselves in the effort, and they were rejuvenated almost immediately. They recovered before we could lick our wounds and forced us to resort to trickery to stave off their recourse.
“The Hatred Tribunal, they called it, when we came together at last because we were united by our hatred for their kingdoms. They laugh at us now, emboldened by their eventual victory. They forget the sting of our fury. They mock our hatred as though it were a weak bond, unable to stand against the might of their mutual respect and admiration. We have learned to respect the power of their bond. We do not respect it because it is superior; we do not respect it because it is unbreakable; we do not respect it because we desire it. We respect it because we understand it and we understand our need to defeat it before we can at last be rid of their tyranny. This island belongs to us! It is ours not theirs! It is our birthright!”
The assembly leaped to its feet in thunderous approval, shouting their agreement in a cacophony of noise which inspired a smile from Tiernanuu.
“For years we have sown dissent amongst them, capitalizing on their differences. The Jaltikij hate the mages, the Sinzakij hate the priests, the Ortakij... the Ortakij are the key.” Tiernanuu paused thoughtfully. “The Ortakij believe in an ancient prophecy. They believe their king is the true king of the island and their lust for this prophecy's fulfillment makes them the most vulnerable. For centuries they have stood proudly against the armies of the northlands, fighting zealously for the hope of crushing our clans. Their dream is to unite the northlands so they can unite the southlands. They see this island as one kingdom – their kingdom, ruled by their king. The Jaltikij and Sinzakij rely on the might of the Ortakij armies to protect them from our attacks. They hide behind their brother kingdom, enjoying a life as free of war and strife as if we did not even exist. They have grown weak and soft, and the Ortakij know it. The Ortakij rely on the weakness of their neighbors, they trust in it. They know their kingdom is the only one with enough power to subjugate the entire island. They know once they conquer Vechtazul it will be a trifling matter to overcome the borders that separate their three lands. The Ortakij are filled with vision. But it is this very vision which will be their downfall!”
More cheering followed. Chulon joined in with every ounce of exuberance he could muster. Somewhere deep in his heart, though he knew no Ortakij soldier would ever admit it, there was a desire present to see the whole of the island united. Tiernanuu, though twisted in his vision, was not far from the truth with his words.
“Our spies have learned of a secret pact between the Jaltikij and Sinzakij, an agreement between their kings. The Ortakij have no knowledge of what is coming, but we will be prepared. We will use this pact to our advantage, opening the door to victory. Even now the leaders of the clans are gathering together to plan strategies. A sort of... new hatred tribunal. Dihloch has created a master plan which will tear the southern kingdoms apart. Their bond of strength will at last be broken and then, when the time is right, we will strike! We will pierce a hole through their hearts so deeply the names of the Akij will become a curse to our sons and grandsons.”
Chulon shuddered at the mention of Dihloch. He knew that name. Somewhere in the recesses of his memory recognition was sparked. He could not place his finger on it, though. Where had he heard that name before? It was not good, he remembered that much.
The meeting had ended and Tiernanuu was working his way through the crowds of recruits, touching their hands, looking into their eyes. Chulon was consumed with trying to pinpoint where he had heard Dihloch's name before. He pushed those thoughts down, trying to regain his composure as Tiernanuu approached. He needed to regain control, he had to find his starting point. He had to settle his mind. He could feel waves of deception coursing through him, and he shuddered at how suddenly and obviously he was out of place in this assembly. He needed to calm himself to subdue this distraction, but he knew the quiet he needed to regain his composure would give him away as surely as the doubts and fears overtaking him now. Tiernanuu still approached, looking into the eyes of the men around him. Chulon could not shirk or step away from this moment. He must stand his ground or lose his place in the Nhimyggai and perhaps his life as well.
He could feel Tiernanuu working his way through him, feel the presence of his inquiry before the man ever turned to look in his eyes. The situation was desperate now as the Nhimyggai's hold began to close around him, searching out his mind. Chulon was sinking fast. He had lost track of his focus, his training in the physical stream of power was failing him in this moment. He grasped reluctantly at the last option before him, forced to open floodgates kept diligently sealed since he walked away from Dour Gujhest so many years before. As Tiernanuu turned his gaze toward Chulon and grasped hold of his hand, Chulon dove mindfirst again into the stream of magical power, calling upon his training in the magic of presence to subdue and mask his innermost thoughts. His eyes met Tiernanuu's with confidence at last in that final moment. He was a Nhimyggai, nothing else. There was nothing concerning about Chulon's presence in this Nhimyggai assembly.
Chulon was amazed at how quickly his magical power came back to him. Like an old hand, he deftly wove magical deception all around himself, hiding away any hint of truth from Tiernanuu's insightful gaze. He could feel the power of the Nhimyggai seeking him out, but it was no match for the strength of his magical ability. He easily deflected and absorbed all inquiries, sliding through the moment with ease.
Tiernanuu paused, nevertheless, looking again at Chulon with interest. The magic so suddenly called upon was noticeable to the Nhimyggai. He could not pinpoint what Chulon was doing, but he knew with certainty that this man possessed strong magics. It aroused Tiernanuu's interest and he noted that he should speak with Dremmech later about Chulon, to find out what uses had been found for him.
As Tiernanuu moved away, Chulon let go of his enchantment, feeling the draining effect of magic, magnified by his lack of practice. He shuddered again, knowing this brief relapse into magic would cost him dearly in the days ahead.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Saturday, June 7, 2008
C10(2) "The..."
"The Hatred Tribunal"
(WC 966)
-[ ]-
After agreeing to the demands of the Nhimyggai, Chulon was instructed to leave the armies of Lom and find a home in a nearby settlement. The warmasters he had formerly served did not question his leaving or raise issue with it. They were apparently familiar with such changes and knew better than to cause any dissention. Everyone he had formerly made acquaintance with seemed to act like he no longer existed.
This new life pressed upon him by the mysterious Nhimyggai was far more dangerous. Chulon spent his nights deep in meditation, focusing on the task of bending his mind so that his thoughts would not give him away. He began to see Nhimyggai where formerly he had only seen peaceful settlers. His instructions were to make a home, act settled and pursue mundane daily activities while he awaited instructions.
The simplicity of his new routine was frequently punctuated by secretive meetings where he and others were indoctrinated in the beliefs and ideals of the Nhimyggai. He learned his immediate superior was a young man named Ponyeth, who seemed little more than a boy to Chulon. He could sense magical ability in him, though, reckless and unbridled. Chulon imagined Ponyeth's ability was likely also largely untrained and unfocused. Apparently a connection to the stream of magical power was prized by the Nhimyggai, making it a reason for the promotion of its followers. Above Ponyeth was a darker man named Dremmech, who usually led their meetings and spoke vehemently against the southern kingdoms.
Dremmech also spoke of another superior named Tiernanuu, but Chulon had yet to meet this one. He wondered how many ranks the Nhimyggai has divided themselves into. It swiftly became apparent that his group, under Dremmech was wholly comprised of people who were local to the area where Chulon had been instructed to settle. He began to see Nhimyggai in places he had not formerly guessed to look. Their identity was obvious to him now, they were the members of any tribe who lived lives completely detached from the tribe's concerns. Ponyeth had told him early on to ignore the commands of the tribe of Lom. He was not a part of the tribe any longer. He was now a part of something much larger, something much more important.
Chulon was not yet sure how much magical ability the Nhimyggai held, he could not find opportunity to test it. As a whole, the group was very secretive and paranoid. They worked hard to remain unseen and unsuspected. Dremmech spoke about the necessity of this often. New recruits like Chulon were told over and over again to hide their allegiance to the Nhimyggai. They were never to speak of it. The mages of the south were always watching, he said, and Chulon later found it amusing just how true this was.
One thing was very apparent, though, it would take a lot of time for Chulon to gather the kind of information he needed. In the quiet moments, he wondered just how much time it would take. Dremmech's speeches were militant, focused on actions against the southlands. He spoke often about an upcoming campaign against Dour Gujhest. Chulon was recruited to fill out the ranks of Dremmech's army, which was being amassed for some form of offensive strike.
To single out Dour Gujhest was a bold maneuver. Chulon was immediately struck by the foolishness of such a plan. To begin with, the Nhimyggai would have to break through the vast defenses of the Ortakij kingdom. They would be faced with the power of Dour Gujhest long before they even reached the Sinzakij borders. Simply getting to Dour Gujhest would be an incredible feat, but once they were there, they would have to contend with the trained and focused power of an entire kingdom of mages.
Chulon knew from experience Dour Gujhest was well fortified. The White Council was ready and able to defend itself against an attack from these Nhimyggai. He began to wonder if the taste of magical ability had driven the Nhimyggai leadership mad. Yet, he knew it would be foolish to assume the failure of the Nhimyggai before he fully understood their capabilities. He was reminded of his battle with Ethegra. Once a friend, and one of the most powerful and solid mages he had ever known, Chulon could scarcely believe Ethegra had fallen to such temptation. If the Nhimyggai were behind Ethegra's conversion, perhaps there was something to their bold strategy after all. Did they intend to turn an entire kingdom of mages into demons?
-[ ]-
Months passed and Chulon fell into a routine. He rarely thought about his duty to the southern kingdoms any more, so deeply had he repressed his true identity. Outwardly, he acted every bit like a true believer in the Nhymiggai cause. It was a fine line he walked, twisting his disgust and hatred for the Nhimyggai into an apparent hatred toward the southern kingdoms.
Dremmech had relentlessly examined the minds of all his followers, keeping a sharp eye on them at all times. It was obvious he trusted nobody. As the time passed, his army grew, filling out with more and more eager recruits. Some were from other clans, but Chulon noted that Lom did not question or prevent their addition to the ranks of the Nhimyggai. Chulon exhibited no magical ability to his superiors, not wanting to rise in the ranks or appear as anything other than mundane now. Dremmech was descriptive enough of the Nhimyggai plans to eventually bring him all the information he would need. He had come to fear and respect the power of the Nhimyggai as time passed. The danger of his position was constant and pressing, so he did not wish to test his luck by attempting to gain recognition.
(WC 966)
-[ ]-
After agreeing to the demands of the Nhimyggai, Chulon was instructed to leave the armies of Lom and find a home in a nearby settlement. The warmasters he had formerly served did not question his leaving or raise issue with it. They were apparently familiar with such changes and knew better than to cause any dissention. Everyone he had formerly made acquaintance with seemed to act like he no longer existed.
This new life pressed upon him by the mysterious Nhimyggai was far more dangerous. Chulon spent his nights deep in meditation, focusing on the task of bending his mind so that his thoughts would not give him away. He began to see Nhimyggai where formerly he had only seen peaceful settlers. His instructions were to make a home, act settled and pursue mundane daily activities while he awaited instructions.
The simplicity of his new routine was frequently punctuated by secretive meetings where he and others were indoctrinated in the beliefs and ideals of the Nhimyggai. He learned his immediate superior was a young man named Ponyeth, who seemed little more than a boy to Chulon. He could sense magical ability in him, though, reckless and unbridled. Chulon imagined Ponyeth's ability was likely also largely untrained and unfocused. Apparently a connection to the stream of magical power was prized by the Nhimyggai, making it a reason for the promotion of its followers. Above Ponyeth was a darker man named Dremmech, who usually led their meetings and spoke vehemently against the southern kingdoms.
Dremmech also spoke of another superior named Tiernanuu, but Chulon had yet to meet this one. He wondered how many ranks the Nhimyggai has divided themselves into. It swiftly became apparent that his group, under Dremmech was wholly comprised of people who were local to the area where Chulon had been instructed to settle. He began to see Nhimyggai in places he had not formerly guessed to look. Their identity was obvious to him now, they were the members of any tribe who lived lives completely detached from the tribe's concerns. Ponyeth had told him early on to ignore the commands of the tribe of Lom. He was not a part of the tribe any longer. He was now a part of something much larger, something much more important.
Chulon was not yet sure how much magical ability the Nhimyggai held, he could not find opportunity to test it. As a whole, the group was very secretive and paranoid. They worked hard to remain unseen and unsuspected. Dremmech spoke about the necessity of this often. New recruits like Chulon were told over and over again to hide their allegiance to the Nhimyggai. They were never to speak of it. The mages of the south were always watching, he said, and Chulon later found it amusing just how true this was.
One thing was very apparent, though, it would take a lot of time for Chulon to gather the kind of information he needed. In the quiet moments, he wondered just how much time it would take. Dremmech's speeches were militant, focused on actions against the southlands. He spoke often about an upcoming campaign against Dour Gujhest. Chulon was recruited to fill out the ranks of Dremmech's army, which was being amassed for some form of offensive strike.
To single out Dour Gujhest was a bold maneuver. Chulon was immediately struck by the foolishness of such a plan. To begin with, the Nhimyggai would have to break through the vast defenses of the Ortakij kingdom. They would be faced with the power of Dour Gujhest long before they even reached the Sinzakij borders. Simply getting to Dour Gujhest would be an incredible feat, but once they were there, they would have to contend with the trained and focused power of an entire kingdom of mages.
Chulon knew from experience Dour Gujhest was well fortified. The White Council was ready and able to defend itself against an attack from these Nhimyggai. He began to wonder if the taste of magical ability had driven the Nhimyggai leadership mad. Yet, he knew it would be foolish to assume the failure of the Nhimyggai before he fully understood their capabilities. He was reminded of his battle with Ethegra. Once a friend, and one of the most powerful and solid mages he had ever known, Chulon could scarcely believe Ethegra had fallen to such temptation. If the Nhimyggai were behind Ethegra's conversion, perhaps there was something to their bold strategy after all. Did they intend to turn an entire kingdom of mages into demons?
-[ ]-
Months passed and Chulon fell into a routine. He rarely thought about his duty to the southern kingdoms any more, so deeply had he repressed his true identity. Outwardly, he acted every bit like a true believer in the Nhymiggai cause. It was a fine line he walked, twisting his disgust and hatred for the Nhimyggai into an apparent hatred toward the southern kingdoms.
Dremmech had relentlessly examined the minds of all his followers, keeping a sharp eye on them at all times. It was obvious he trusted nobody. As the time passed, his army grew, filling out with more and more eager recruits. Some were from other clans, but Chulon noted that Lom did not question or prevent their addition to the ranks of the Nhimyggai. Chulon exhibited no magical ability to his superiors, not wanting to rise in the ranks or appear as anything other than mundane now. Dremmech was descriptive enough of the Nhimyggai plans to eventually bring him all the information he would need. He had come to fear and respect the power of the Nhimyggai as time passed. The danger of his position was constant and pressing, so he did not wish to test his luck by attempting to gain recognition.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
C10(1) "The..."
"The Hatred Tribunal"
(WC 1753)
It was a day like any other for Chulon. Lom's warlord had his people gearing up for another battle along their northeastern border. Gulala had made some headway into Lom's holdings there, supplanting their losses along the southeastern portion of the border where Lom had been pushing hard for the past few months. Confident they could maintain their new holdings to the south, the tribe of Lom was hurriedly rushing to the north to quell the advances made by their enemy.
Chulon had yet to see any familiar faces from the tribe of Gulala and though he consoled himself with the reminder that they were all his enemies, he found it a relief not to have to look into the face of any he had formerly pretended were friends.
The shift to the north would be advantageous to Chulon, moving him closer to the tribes of Kier-Ree-Tan so he could make a clean departure from the ranks of Lom's armies. Working his way into the inner circles of the tribe had the unfortunate side effect of making him famous amongst the warriors of Lom. Almost everywhere he traveled now he was recognized and hailed as a hero of the tribe. Though Chulon valued his access to the secret plans of the tribe, his fame made it more difficult for him to move freely now that he wanted to abandon this tribe in favor of another.
He had begun to wonder if his renown would translate into a reputation as a traitor. Perhaps moving from clan to clan had been the trait which had revealed other Ortakij scouts and allowed the clans to weed them out. This did not seem likely, though, because no apparent communication occurred between the clans in any form.
They did not make it to the front lines of the battlefield to the north, though. They were very close when an order from Lom came down through the ranks suddenly. They were to stop and wait. There was no explanation for this abrupt change in strategy and no apparent reason why it would be necessary. But no reason was needed for an order from the leader of the tribe. When he said stop, they would stop.
Chulon wondered if perhaps Gulala had been able to push back along the southern border, causing the warlord to reconsider his aggressive strategies. It seemed unlikely they would be told to simply stop if this were the case. If the warlord were truly concerned about an advance like that, he would have called for them to move back south or press their attacks more quickly. He wouldn't have told them to just stop and wait. Chulon felt there must be something else at work now. In all of his time with the tribes of Gulala and Lom he had never witnessed an action like this.
The army, unsure of what to do next, set about the process of making camp while they waited. Chulon busied himself with this task as well, inwardly hoping they would soon continue northward so he could make his escape from this group. He thought it best to feign his own death on the battlefield. It would raise the fewest questions. Tribal armies did not bother to check the dead or search for wounded. Any who were too damaged to return to camp of their own accord were left where they lay and no more concern was spared for their lives. A clean break like that would shield him from any of the potential difficulties Chulon had worried about.
The army had sat dormant in camp for two days before something happened. Chulon had plenty of time to worry about what might come next. After this time had passed a new group arrived in their camp. This group was strange to Chulon, the fact that they were so well-dressed was the first thing which struck him as very different. They had an air of importance about them and the warriors of Lom's armies gave them wide berth, shrinking back in their presence as though very afraid. This group was obviously of great importance, although Chulon did not recognize any of its members.
After making an initial inspection of the camp, the group settled into one of the tents which had been set up and began calling for warriors to come speak with them. Whispers began to circle through the camp about this strange intrusion. Chulon soon caught the name “Nhimyggai” being whispered repeatedly. He felt his hopes rise sharply. At last he was hearing some confirmation of what Pinmey had told him at Hearkendale. Were the Nhimyggai real? Chulon decided to take this opportunity to find out.
He asked around amongst a few of Lom's warriors, trying to see what they meant. But when he inquired about the Nhimyggai, he was universally met with silence. These men were genuinely afraid of this group. They constantly cast furtive glances in the direction of the tent taken over by the supposed Nhimyggai. He began to think he would get nothing other than blank looks and fear-filled glances when Chulon was called up by his superiors to go to the tent and stand before the Nhimyggai.
He wondered quickly what he should say to win their favor. If the Nhimyggai were all Pinmey had said they were, then Chulon wanted nothing more than to work his way into their ranks. He had begun to question the legitimacy of Pinmey's claims in his time in the north. For as long as he had been there, he had heard no mention of this mysterious group from anyone. Not even a vague whisper about it. Their sudden appearance here was stunning, almost unbelievable. They were like ghosts.
He stepped into the Nhimyggai tent.
“Welcome warrior.”
Seated before Chulon, the group had formed a circle. They all sat stoically, with no visible movement between the eight of them. Dressed as they were, Chulon found it difficult to determine which one had spoken as he entered. They were hidden behind rich, dark garb which covered them completely. Hoods hid their faces from his view, allowing him no cues to what the group was thinking. Wanting to avoid any awkwardness, Chulon seated himself immediately just inside the entry to the tent and looked forward expectantly, wondering what would happen next.
“We have heard you asking questions about our presence here.”
It was a statement, followed by a long pause. Chulon wondered if they expected him to answer. As the silence stretched on, he decided it best to do so.
“I have heard the name Nhimyggai before, but did not know if it was a name for myth or fact. I was simply curious if anyone else knew anything about this name.”
More silence. Not a single figure in the circle moved. Chulon calmed his spirit, focusing on his posture instead of the bizarre spectacle before him. Finally, they spoke again.
“The Nhimyggai are fact. The Nhimyggai are building an army. The Nhimyggai will destroy the Southern Kingdoms.”
Chulon felt it now. It was a sneaking suspicion when he entered the tent, but now he could feel the full force of it weighing against his mind: magic. Despite his long absence from life as a mage, he could still feel the pulse of magic as clearly as when he had practiced it. This group definitely had some magical ability. How much and how strong, he could not say without delving into a temptation he had sworn he would never again entertain. But he knew they were probing him with their arts, seeking something out, probably in his mind. Chulon stifled this realization and focused more intently on his posture. He caressed feelings of belonging and a hatred in his mind. He knew his facade would be discovered if he pushed his mind too far into the unfamiliar and offensive territory of hatred toward his own homeland, so he focused instead on a vague and generalized hatred, building on his own disdain for the tribes to fill his mind with dissatisfaction.
It was a dangerous game Chulon was playing, and somewhere deep inside of himself, he knew the risks. But he could not spare a conscious consideration for this fact. Both heart and mind were bent now under the will of the Nhimyggai and he brewed appropriate thoughts beneath his outward focus on his posture. The perfection and concentration he had learned through Laethecna aided him in this. It stemmed from his own being in a natural way, despite the lies he was trying to perpetrate. It was enough to quell the oppressive feeling of their magic. They must have been satisfied with what they found in Chulon's mind.
“What do the Nhimyggai desire of me?”
“Life, allegiance and obedience. You will fight for the Nhimyggai.”
It sounded like a question, but it was not. Chulon was being instructed by this strange group. He was expected to become a part of their group. There would be no denying their request, but Chulon had no desire to do so. He stood out amongst the warriors of Lom, he had no doubt this had sparked the Nhimyggai's interest in him. Now the wanted him. This was exactly what he wanted.
It was only a matter of time now before Chulon was able to discover what capabilities this mysterious group possessed. Pinmey had been correct, and Chulon was glad he had followed the monk's directions. The Nhimyggai were indeed powerful, but he could not yet say just how powerful they might be. If ever there were a serious threat to the Southern Kingdoms, Chulon knew he was joining its ranks. The fact that the Nhimyggai had been audacious enough to attempt to scan his thoughts proved to him they possessed serious magical abilities. Were they strong enough to challenge Dour Gujhest? Was their army big enough to take on the vast resources of the Ortakij? These questions needed to be answered before he attempted to return to Katarine.
Chulon was impressed that the Nhimyggai had been so successful at hiding themselves amongst the clans of the northlands. How did they accomplish this feat? It appeared fear and intimidation were a large portion of their strategy. The other Ortakij scouts must have been discovered by these Nhimyggai. Staying hidden from the Southern Kingdoms' view was obviously very important to this group. Chulon knew he would have to tread carefully if he intended to deliver a warning to his home in time.
(WC 1753)
It was a day like any other for Chulon. Lom's warlord had his people gearing up for another battle along their northeastern border. Gulala had made some headway into Lom's holdings there, supplanting their losses along the southeastern portion of the border where Lom had been pushing hard for the past few months. Confident they could maintain their new holdings to the south, the tribe of Lom was hurriedly rushing to the north to quell the advances made by their enemy.
Chulon had yet to see any familiar faces from the tribe of Gulala and though he consoled himself with the reminder that they were all his enemies, he found it a relief not to have to look into the face of any he had formerly pretended were friends.
The shift to the north would be advantageous to Chulon, moving him closer to the tribes of Kier-Ree-Tan so he could make a clean departure from the ranks of Lom's armies. Working his way into the inner circles of the tribe had the unfortunate side effect of making him famous amongst the warriors of Lom. Almost everywhere he traveled now he was recognized and hailed as a hero of the tribe. Though Chulon valued his access to the secret plans of the tribe, his fame made it more difficult for him to move freely now that he wanted to abandon this tribe in favor of another.
He had begun to wonder if his renown would translate into a reputation as a traitor. Perhaps moving from clan to clan had been the trait which had revealed other Ortakij scouts and allowed the clans to weed them out. This did not seem likely, though, because no apparent communication occurred between the clans in any form.
They did not make it to the front lines of the battlefield to the north, though. They were very close when an order from Lom came down through the ranks suddenly. They were to stop and wait. There was no explanation for this abrupt change in strategy and no apparent reason why it would be necessary. But no reason was needed for an order from the leader of the tribe. When he said stop, they would stop.
Chulon wondered if perhaps Gulala had been able to push back along the southern border, causing the warlord to reconsider his aggressive strategies. It seemed unlikely they would be told to simply stop if this were the case. If the warlord were truly concerned about an advance like that, he would have called for them to move back south or press their attacks more quickly. He wouldn't have told them to just stop and wait. Chulon felt there must be something else at work now. In all of his time with the tribes of Gulala and Lom he had never witnessed an action like this.
The army, unsure of what to do next, set about the process of making camp while they waited. Chulon busied himself with this task as well, inwardly hoping they would soon continue northward so he could make his escape from this group. He thought it best to feign his own death on the battlefield. It would raise the fewest questions. Tribal armies did not bother to check the dead or search for wounded. Any who were too damaged to return to camp of their own accord were left where they lay and no more concern was spared for their lives. A clean break like that would shield him from any of the potential difficulties Chulon had worried about.
The army had sat dormant in camp for two days before something happened. Chulon had plenty of time to worry about what might come next. After this time had passed a new group arrived in their camp. This group was strange to Chulon, the fact that they were so well-dressed was the first thing which struck him as very different. They had an air of importance about them and the warriors of Lom's armies gave them wide berth, shrinking back in their presence as though very afraid. This group was obviously of great importance, although Chulon did not recognize any of its members.
After making an initial inspection of the camp, the group settled into one of the tents which had been set up and began calling for warriors to come speak with them. Whispers began to circle through the camp about this strange intrusion. Chulon soon caught the name “Nhimyggai” being whispered repeatedly. He felt his hopes rise sharply. At last he was hearing some confirmation of what Pinmey had told him at Hearkendale. Were the Nhimyggai real? Chulon decided to take this opportunity to find out.
He asked around amongst a few of Lom's warriors, trying to see what they meant. But when he inquired about the Nhimyggai, he was universally met with silence. These men were genuinely afraid of this group. They constantly cast furtive glances in the direction of the tent taken over by the supposed Nhimyggai. He began to think he would get nothing other than blank looks and fear-filled glances when Chulon was called up by his superiors to go to the tent and stand before the Nhimyggai.
He wondered quickly what he should say to win their favor. If the Nhimyggai were all Pinmey had said they were, then Chulon wanted nothing more than to work his way into their ranks. He had begun to question the legitimacy of Pinmey's claims in his time in the north. For as long as he had been there, he had heard no mention of this mysterious group from anyone. Not even a vague whisper about it. Their sudden appearance here was stunning, almost unbelievable. They were like ghosts.
He stepped into the Nhimyggai tent.
“Welcome warrior.”
Seated before Chulon, the group had formed a circle. They all sat stoically, with no visible movement between the eight of them. Dressed as they were, Chulon found it difficult to determine which one had spoken as he entered. They were hidden behind rich, dark garb which covered them completely. Hoods hid their faces from his view, allowing him no cues to what the group was thinking. Wanting to avoid any awkwardness, Chulon seated himself immediately just inside the entry to the tent and looked forward expectantly, wondering what would happen next.
“We have heard you asking questions about our presence here.”
It was a statement, followed by a long pause. Chulon wondered if they expected him to answer. As the silence stretched on, he decided it best to do so.
“I have heard the name Nhimyggai before, but did not know if it was a name for myth or fact. I was simply curious if anyone else knew anything about this name.”
More silence. Not a single figure in the circle moved. Chulon calmed his spirit, focusing on his posture instead of the bizarre spectacle before him. Finally, they spoke again.
“The Nhimyggai are fact. The Nhimyggai are building an army. The Nhimyggai will destroy the Southern Kingdoms.”
Chulon felt it now. It was a sneaking suspicion when he entered the tent, but now he could feel the full force of it weighing against his mind: magic. Despite his long absence from life as a mage, he could still feel the pulse of magic as clearly as when he had practiced it. This group definitely had some magical ability. How much and how strong, he could not say without delving into a temptation he had sworn he would never again entertain. But he knew they were probing him with their arts, seeking something out, probably in his mind. Chulon stifled this realization and focused more intently on his posture. He caressed feelings of belonging and a hatred in his mind. He knew his facade would be discovered if he pushed his mind too far into the unfamiliar and offensive territory of hatred toward his own homeland, so he focused instead on a vague and generalized hatred, building on his own disdain for the tribes to fill his mind with dissatisfaction.
It was a dangerous game Chulon was playing, and somewhere deep inside of himself, he knew the risks. But he could not spare a conscious consideration for this fact. Both heart and mind were bent now under the will of the Nhimyggai and he brewed appropriate thoughts beneath his outward focus on his posture. The perfection and concentration he had learned through Laethecna aided him in this. It stemmed from his own being in a natural way, despite the lies he was trying to perpetrate. It was enough to quell the oppressive feeling of their magic. They must have been satisfied with what they found in Chulon's mind.
“What do the Nhimyggai desire of me?”
“Life, allegiance and obedience. You will fight for the Nhimyggai.”
It sounded like a question, but it was not. Chulon was being instructed by this strange group. He was expected to become a part of their group. There would be no denying their request, but Chulon had no desire to do so. He stood out amongst the warriors of Lom, he had no doubt this had sparked the Nhimyggai's interest in him. Now the wanted him. This was exactly what he wanted.
It was only a matter of time now before Chulon was able to discover what capabilities this mysterious group possessed. Pinmey had been correct, and Chulon was glad he had followed the monk's directions. The Nhimyggai were indeed powerful, but he could not yet say just how powerful they might be. If ever there were a serious threat to the Southern Kingdoms, Chulon knew he was joining its ranks. The fact that the Nhimyggai had been audacious enough to attempt to scan his thoughts proved to him they possessed serious magical abilities. Were they strong enough to challenge Dour Gujhest? Was their army big enough to take on the vast resources of the Ortakij? These questions needed to be answered before he attempted to return to Katarine.
Chulon was impressed that the Nhimyggai had been so successful at hiding themselves amongst the clans of the northlands. How did they accomplish this feat? It appeared fear and intimidation were a large portion of their strategy. The other Ortakij scouts must have been discovered by these Nhimyggai. Staying hidden from the Southern Kingdoms' view was obviously very important to this group. Chulon knew he would have to tread carefully if he intended to deliver a warning to his home in time.
Monday, June 2, 2008
C9 "The Lesser..."
"The Lesser Gods"
(WC 2039)
Delyth had not traveled far from Dour Gujhest when, with a pointed smile, she stopped abruptly and sat down. Phillip stopped as well, hoping to stay hidden off to the side of the road and a good distance behind her. Though it felt strange to be stalking this woman, his orders from the White Council were clear. It became obvious, however, that his presence was not as unnoticed as he had hoped. Delyth was staring directly at him, apparently waiting for Phillip to reveal himself. He wondered if this was simply a coincidence, if perhaps she had not seen him but was merely looking in his direction, but a raised eyebrow followed by a motion for him to come over to where she was sitting removed those doubts from his mind. Despite his great care in remaining hidden, she had somehow spotted his presence. Phillip felt embarrassed as he stepped out and walked toward her.
“Why are you following me?” She called out to him as he came close.
Phillip wondered what kind of explanation he could possibly give for his actions. Although his training told him to invent a reason and hide his true purpose for being there, his heart told him to simply be honest.
“It is my duty to learn how you were able to defeat a demon.” He looked into her eyes, hoping to convey some sense of trustworthiness. To his surprise, as she held his gaze she did not look concerned, timid or frightened by his presence. There was a distinct sense of curiosity behind her eyes, as though simply holding his gaze would tell her more than he was saying. Phillip didn't mind. He was suddenly struck by the simple beauty of Delyth's eyes and found it difficult to look away.
So enraptured was he, her next question went almost unnoticed. But then he realized she had been speaking and he broke her gaze suddenly, blushing like a young man and feeling uncomfortable with himself.
“Why do you think I defeated the demon? I simply said the demon does not exist.” Delyth cocked her head to the side and tried to meet Phillip's gaze once again. Embarrassed afresh, Phillip avoided her stare although those eyes felt like gravity wells drawing him in. He took a deep breath and mentally chastised himself for being so unexpectedly foolish and juvenile in her presence. Having regained a measure of his composure, Phillip pondered her response briefly.
“I suppose knowing the nature of a demon tells me you would not have survived unless you fought for and won your freedom.” Phillip was staring at the ground now, coldly suppressing both emotion and instinct in response to the feelings that her gaze had awakened within him.
Delyth sighed lightly and placed one of her hands gently on Phillip's downturned head in a consoling fashion. “I think you have assumed too much.”
He was struck by the clarity of this statement. He felt justified in his assumptions because they were shared by the White Council, as though communal consent created truth. If he removed those assumptions completely, though, what would remain? There was still an unanswered mystery. He knew Delyth had been stolen away from the town of Hearkendale, many witnesses confirmed it. He knew Delyth had survived, she was sitting in front of him now. He knew the demon which attacked Hearkendale had disappeared completely, he could find no evidence of it to track or follow. What did these three facts actually mean? Either Delyth was lying to him, or he was missing something.
“How did you survive the demon attack?” Phillip asked at length, looking up into her eyes once again.
She grabbed his gaze as he looked up, staring at him in a colder and more serious way now.
“I already told you I would not talk about it.” She replied bluntly and with a tinge of annoyance.
Phillip held her gaze defiantly, though, determined to fulfill his duty to the White Council. “I am sorry for my rudeness in following you and spying on you like I have. But you must understand, I cannot leave you until I answer this question. I am sworn to serve the White Council, so I must not fail.”
Delyth looked away toward the horizon. The day was waning, though evening was still hours away. Her hair was caught in the breeze, flitting around her face. Phillip was now struck again by her beauty. He admired her hair especially, intrigued by its color, and wondering whether he had ever seen such a vibrant shade of red before. She looked so vulnerable now, sitting there and contemplating the determination of his quest. Phillip thought he had been too harsh just now, pitting himself against her desire to leave the past in the past. He returned to chiding himself, feeling suddenly guilty about his treatment of a grieving widow. Her poise and grace made it easy to forget all she had been through, but remembering now, Phillip felt horrible about his behavior.
“Your White Council is dogged and insistent...” Delyth said finally, “...and inconsiderate and cruel. Do you have no creativity? Or must you try an force an answer to a question without one?”
She did not look at him. Phillip was once more rendered speechless by her insights. He was unsure of what to do. Never before had he felt so shameful and out of place in his work. He wanted to abandon his search for answers, but knew he could not. His oath needed to be fulfilled before he could return home. He was trapped now in a bad position, much worse than he had feared when the White had originally placed the burden of this quest upon his shoulders. He felt following Delyth any further would be nothing other than wrong but what then should he do?
“I would feel better if you walked with me as a friend.” Delyth broke Phillip's stunned silence. “I enjoy talking with you and I would prefer not to be alone right now.”
Phillip nodded, inwardly relieved to push off making a decision about what he needed to do next. Besides, it offered him an opportunity to do something nice for her for a change. Perhaps he could start to repair the hurt he was obviously perpetuating.
-[ ]-
Despite what Delyth had said, they continued onward for many hours in silence. Phillip brooded over his own behavior, still somewhat surprised and disappointed in himself. He could not think of any question to ask that did not seem to him immediately offensive and inconsiderate. Perhaps the gap between the Eclosei and Dour Gujhest had indeed grown to wide to bridge. He was consumed with his own concerns – with the concerns of the White Council and the mission he was tied into. It made him wish he could better understand the Eclosei and their motivations. It was this realization which eventually led him to his first acceptable idea of the day.
“Why do you worship the gods?” He spoke up at last, breaking the long silence. His question did not sound the same upon saying it out loud as it had when it was being formed in his head. Phillip hoped the honest intention of what he asked would come through and not the skewed connotations which could easily be interpreted from his choice of words. Delyth gave him enough time to worry about this before she finally answered.
“I think men worship gods for the same reason they study magic. They are born with the drive for power. They wish to rule over the world and shape it in some way. The gods offer a connection to this kind of power.”
“Why?” Phillip asked, then clarified, “Why do we want to rule and shape the world?”
“It is the way men were created. It's part of their nature.”
Phillip frowned at this thought. He was unhappy with the suggestion that mankind was somehow enslaved to some kind of hidden desire. “You think the gods created us so that we would rely on them for power? Why would they do this?”
Delyth laughed lightly. “I think we were all created by something far greater than the gods you know.”
Phillip was quiet for awhile longer and Delyth did not interrupt his train of thought. She had suggested there was something even bigger and farther beyond the world as most knew it. The mages taught there were four streams of power, Phillip had always assumed it was the streams which ruled over creation and the fate of the world. Perhaps she felt the same way.
“Do you know about the four streams of power?” He asked, not wanting to get ahead of himself.
“Yes, they are the guidelines for the third age of mankind.”
It was a matter-of-fact response, but Phillip persisted. “I have always thought these streams persisted through eternity, forming and perfecting life.”
“No, you haven't always thought this way.” Delyth said abruptly and with a measure of disappointment. “Men are not meant to know the true nature of their existence. I don't know why, yet your true purpose can be discovered if you know where to look for the answers.”
“I have not always thought this way?” Phillip noted the lightly scoffing tone of his voice. Delyth had always acted familiar with him, as though they knew each other in the past. Phillip could not think of why, he remembered nothing which indicated they had known each other before. Aside from this, he could not remember thinking any other way than what he had expressed except for the time before he had learned about the streams of power themselves.
“Nevermind.” She rolled her eyes. “The streams of power are simply a manifestation of order. They originate from the source of such things.” Delyth paused a moment.. “They will end with the source as well – and so shall we.”
“So you worship the gods because you believe they are somehow greater than the streams of power?” Came Phillip's retort. He noted the scoffing tone in his voice had not subsided and tried to force himself to be more caring.
“I believe in something greater than the streams of power, yes.”
They had stopped walking and regarded each other now with a measure of consternation.
“So the Eclosei are superior to Dour Gujhest after all. They are more enlightened?” Phillip could scarcely believe this was what he had said next. He felt himself living out the indignation of a schoolchild.
“I don't think the Eclosei realize there is anything beyond their Entat of gods either. They are subject to the order of this age, just as the mages are.” It was a comfortingly mild response, especially considering how heated Phillip had been acting.
“Why are you Eclosei if you do not believe in what they are doing?”
“But I do believe in what they are doing. They are seeking out the truth. I believe in what the mages are doing as well.” She placed her hand on Phillip's shoulder. “You needn't be tied down to the idea Dour Gujhest and the Eclosei should be opposed to each other.”
Phillip looked down at the ground. He had thought he might be a source of comfort for Delyth on her journey. He had thought some form of service he could provide would help ease her grief. How differently their conversation had gone. It was she who comforted him, offering small reassurances which touched his heart on a very personal level. Phillip wondered again if he really had known this woman at some point in the past.
“Why don't you return to Hearkendale?” Phillip asked suddenly. The question had only just dawned upon him, but it seemed an obvious one. If she believed the Eclosei and Dour Gujhest did not need to work in opposition to one another, why wasn't she returning to the mission her late husband had founded to bridge this very rift? “They worry about you. Your presence would help them recover and it might help you as well...” His voice trailed off.
“Hearkendale is no longer what it was meant to be,” She responded sadly, “There is no reason for me to return.”
(WC 2039)
Delyth had not traveled far from Dour Gujhest when, with a pointed smile, she stopped abruptly and sat down. Phillip stopped as well, hoping to stay hidden off to the side of the road and a good distance behind her. Though it felt strange to be stalking this woman, his orders from the White Council were clear. It became obvious, however, that his presence was not as unnoticed as he had hoped. Delyth was staring directly at him, apparently waiting for Phillip to reveal himself. He wondered if this was simply a coincidence, if perhaps she had not seen him but was merely looking in his direction, but a raised eyebrow followed by a motion for him to come over to where she was sitting removed those doubts from his mind. Despite his great care in remaining hidden, she had somehow spotted his presence. Phillip felt embarrassed as he stepped out and walked toward her.
“Why are you following me?” She called out to him as he came close.
Phillip wondered what kind of explanation he could possibly give for his actions. Although his training told him to invent a reason and hide his true purpose for being there, his heart told him to simply be honest.
“It is my duty to learn how you were able to defeat a demon.” He looked into her eyes, hoping to convey some sense of trustworthiness. To his surprise, as she held his gaze she did not look concerned, timid or frightened by his presence. There was a distinct sense of curiosity behind her eyes, as though simply holding his gaze would tell her more than he was saying. Phillip didn't mind. He was suddenly struck by the simple beauty of Delyth's eyes and found it difficult to look away.
So enraptured was he, her next question went almost unnoticed. But then he realized she had been speaking and he broke her gaze suddenly, blushing like a young man and feeling uncomfortable with himself.
“Why do you think I defeated the demon? I simply said the demon does not exist.” Delyth cocked her head to the side and tried to meet Phillip's gaze once again. Embarrassed afresh, Phillip avoided her stare although those eyes felt like gravity wells drawing him in. He took a deep breath and mentally chastised himself for being so unexpectedly foolish and juvenile in her presence. Having regained a measure of his composure, Phillip pondered her response briefly.
“I suppose knowing the nature of a demon tells me you would not have survived unless you fought for and won your freedom.” Phillip was staring at the ground now, coldly suppressing both emotion and instinct in response to the feelings that her gaze had awakened within him.
Delyth sighed lightly and placed one of her hands gently on Phillip's downturned head in a consoling fashion. “I think you have assumed too much.”
He was struck by the clarity of this statement. He felt justified in his assumptions because they were shared by the White Council, as though communal consent created truth. If he removed those assumptions completely, though, what would remain? There was still an unanswered mystery. He knew Delyth had been stolen away from the town of Hearkendale, many witnesses confirmed it. He knew Delyth had survived, she was sitting in front of him now. He knew the demon which attacked Hearkendale had disappeared completely, he could find no evidence of it to track or follow. What did these three facts actually mean? Either Delyth was lying to him, or he was missing something.
“How did you survive the demon attack?” Phillip asked at length, looking up into her eyes once again.
She grabbed his gaze as he looked up, staring at him in a colder and more serious way now.
“I already told you I would not talk about it.” She replied bluntly and with a tinge of annoyance.
Phillip held her gaze defiantly, though, determined to fulfill his duty to the White Council. “I am sorry for my rudeness in following you and spying on you like I have. But you must understand, I cannot leave you until I answer this question. I am sworn to serve the White Council, so I must not fail.”
Delyth looked away toward the horizon. The day was waning, though evening was still hours away. Her hair was caught in the breeze, flitting around her face. Phillip was now struck again by her beauty. He admired her hair especially, intrigued by its color, and wondering whether he had ever seen such a vibrant shade of red before. She looked so vulnerable now, sitting there and contemplating the determination of his quest. Phillip thought he had been too harsh just now, pitting himself against her desire to leave the past in the past. He returned to chiding himself, feeling suddenly guilty about his treatment of a grieving widow. Her poise and grace made it easy to forget all she had been through, but remembering now, Phillip felt horrible about his behavior.
“Your White Council is dogged and insistent...” Delyth said finally, “...and inconsiderate and cruel. Do you have no creativity? Or must you try an force an answer to a question without one?”
She did not look at him. Phillip was once more rendered speechless by her insights. He was unsure of what to do. Never before had he felt so shameful and out of place in his work. He wanted to abandon his search for answers, but knew he could not. His oath needed to be fulfilled before he could return home. He was trapped now in a bad position, much worse than he had feared when the White had originally placed the burden of this quest upon his shoulders. He felt following Delyth any further would be nothing other than wrong but what then should he do?
“I would feel better if you walked with me as a friend.” Delyth broke Phillip's stunned silence. “I enjoy talking with you and I would prefer not to be alone right now.”
Phillip nodded, inwardly relieved to push off making a decision about what he needed to do next. Besides, it offered him an opportunity to do something nice for her for a change. Perhaps he could start to repair the hurt he was obviously perpetuating.
-[ ]-
Despite what Delyth had said, they continued onward for many hours in silence. Phillip brooded over his own behavior, still somewhat surprised and disappointed in himself. He could not think of any question to ask that did not seem to him immediately offensive and inconsiderate. Perhaps the gap between the Eclosei and Dour Gujhest had indeed grown to wide to bridge. He was consumed with his own concerns – with the concerns of the White Council and the mission he was tied into. It made him wish he could better understand the Eclosei and their motivations. It was this realization which eventually led him to his first acceptable idea of the day.
“Why do you worship the gods?” He spoke up at last, breaking the long silence. His question did not sound the same upon saying it out loud as it had when it was being formed in his head. Phillip hoped the honest intention of what he asked would come through and not the skewed connotations which could easily be interpreted from his choice of words. Delyth gave him enough time to worry about this before she finally answered.
“I think men worship gods for the same reason they study magic. They are born with the drive for power. They wish to rule over the world and shape it in some way. The gods offer a connection to this kind of power.”
“Why?” Phillip asked, then clarified, “Why do we want to rule and shape the world?”
“It is the way men were created. It's part of their nature.”
Phillip frowned at this thought. He was unhappy with the suggestion that mankind was somehow enslaved to some kind of hidden desire. “You think the gods created us so that we would rely on them for power? Why would they do this?”
Delyth laughed lightly. “I think we were all created by something far greater than the gods you know.”
Phillip was quiet for awhile longer and Delyth did not interrupt his train of thought. She had suggested there was something even bigger and farther beyond the world as most knew it. The mages taught there were four streams of power, Phillip had always assumed it was the streams which ruled over creation and the fate of the world. Perhaps she felt the same way.
“Do you know about the four streams of power?” He asked, not wanting to get ahead of himself.
“Yes, they are the guidelines for the third age of mankind.”
It was a matter-of-fact response, but Phillip persisted. “I have always thought these streams persisted through eternity, forming and perfecting life.”
“No, you haven't always thought this way.” Delyth said abruptly and with a measure of disappointment. “Men are not meant to know the true nature of their existence. I don't know why, yet your true purpose can be discovered if you know where to look for the answers.”
“I have not always thought this way?” Phillip noted the lightly scoffing tone of his voice. Delyth had always acted familiar with him, as though they knew each other in the past. Phillip could not think of why, he remembered nothing which indicated they had known each other before. Aside from this, he could not remember thinking any other way than what he had expressed except for the time before he had learned about the streams of power themselves.
“Nevermind.” She rolled her eyes. “The streams of power are simply a manifestation of order. They originate from the source of such things.” Delyth paused a moment.. “They will end with the source as well – and so shall we.”
“So you worship the gods because you believe they are somehow greater than the streams of power?” Came Phillip's retort. He noted the scoffing tone in his voice had not subsided and tried to force himself to be more caring.
“I believe in something greater than the streams of power, yes.”
They had stopped walking and regarded each other now with a measure of consternation.
“So the Eclosei are superior to Dour Gujhest after all. They are more enlightened?” Phillip could scarcely believe this was what he had said next. He felt himself living out the indignation of a schoolchild.
“I don't think the Eclosei realize there is anything beyond their Entat of gods either. They are subject to the order of this age, just as the mages are.” It was a comfortingly mild response, especially considering how heated Phillip had been acting.
“Why are you Eclosei if you do not believe in what they are doing?”
“But I do believe in what they are doing. They are seeking out the truth. I believe in what the mages are doing as well.” She placed her hand on Phillip's shoulder. “You needn't be tied down to the idea Dour Gujhest and the Eclosei should be opposed to each other.”
Phillip looked down at the ground. He had thought he might be a source of comfort for Delyth on her journey. He had thought some form of service he could provide would help ease her grief. How differently their conversation had gone. It was she who comforted him, offering small reassurances which touched his heart on a very personal level. Phillip wondered again if he really had known this woman at some point in the past.
“Why don't you return to Hearkendale?” Phillip asked suddenly. The question had only just dawned upon him, but it seemed an obvious one. If she believed the Eclosei and Dour Gujhest did not need to work in opposition to one another, why wasn't she returning to the mission her late husband had founded to bridge this very rift? “They worry about you. Your presence would help them recover and it might help you as well...” His voice trailed off.
“Hearkendale is no longer what it was meant to be,” She responded sadly, “There is no reason for me to return.”
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