Chapter 2
Making Sense of it All
Richard was escorted by another pair of guards inside the great doors of the castle, wherein his eyes were once again forced to adjust as the light inside was as bright as the sun compared to the darkness of the world outside. Rich tapestries and luxurious wood furniture filled the space. a giant table occupied the middle of the room; either a great feast had taken place or was about to, it seemed. Only a few other guards were around, as the hour was still early morn, but he expected there would be many servants scurrying around once the dawn broke.
Ilend Vonius, or at least a man Richard suspected of being Ilend Vonius, was seated at a smaller desk, surrounded by bookshelves, off in a corner, pouring over some documents.
"Sir! We've been instructed to leave this gentleman in your keeping," one of his escorts announced.
"Who's this then?" Ilend asked, glancing up from his papers. "You bring an unknown man to me, hands unbound, blade still in his belt, and tell me he is my responsibility? With the Count not but a few locked doors away?" he pressed further, rising from his chair.
His escorts seemed unnerved. Was this the same Ilend that Merandil had said would deal with him graciously? He was becoming unnerved himself.
"Sir...uh..that is...Merandil and Jesan found him outside the gates and brought him in..."
"Yeah, that's right! It were those two!"
"So, you're simply following the command of a guard of slightly higher rank, giving no thought to the implications of allowing this fellow into the castle?" he pressed further.
"I...sir..."
"It were Merandil and Jesan! The blame should be theirs!"
"Quiet!" Ilend snapped. "Leave this man here with me, but see yourselves out. I'll not have such incompetence on my watch. A double shift, you shall pull, as punishment. I'll speak with those two when I see fit to do so."
"Sir.." both guards said at once, though without much enthusiasm as they turned to leave.
"Ilend...ah...Sir Vonius...I assure you I am no threat. I'm just trying to figure out where I am and how I got here," he began, trying not to allow the panic well within him again.
"There's no need for that...a knight I am not," Ilend replied, the annoyance in his voice replaced by Merandil's promised comprehension. "I apologize for what you had to see. They're new to the Watch, and I need to remind them to think for themselves, even under orders. Now then, as I see you know my name, would you do me the courtesy of gracing me with yours?"
Richard felt at ease again, though he kept alert for any sudden mood changes. There weren't too many guards around; if needed, he could escape the room, though after that, he wasn't clear on what the next step would be.
"My name is Richard Cypher, of Westland," he said. "I was...on a quest for a powerful magical artifact. Upon touching it, I..." he paused, unsure of exactly what happened. "I saw a brilliant flash of green, and found myself outside the gates of your city...a city I've never heard of in a land I've never seen on any map."
"Richard Cypher of Westland...well, similarly, I've never heard of a land so named, nor is it on any map of Nirn. I wonder if this Westland of which you speak is some magical realm...perhaps in Aetherius itself..."
"No, quite the opposite. There is...or at least...was no magic in Westland."
"And yet you sought out a magical artifact in a land where there is no magic. Your story, though intriguing, makes little sense."
Richard scratched his head, and despite the circumstances, grinned.
"It's something of a long story...to say nothing of the story being equally complicated."
"Well, we've some time yet before the court awakens. Start from the beginning, or at least, the part you think is a relevant beginning, and we'll go from there. And I hope you don't mind my quill and ink. It makes recalling details simpler, and if your story changes when recalled to the Count, I'll have you on record."
Richard's grin faded.
"I'm no liar; I'm after the truth as much as you are."
"Forgive me; my father was a magistrate of the law; a seeker of truth in civil and criminal matters; old habits and all that. If Merandil saw fit to trust you, then I am compelled to do likewise. He's the most honest Altmer I've ever had the pleasure of knowing."
Richard grinned again.
"A Seeker of Truth...funny you should phrase it in such a way."
"How so?" Ilend inquired, raising an eyebrow.
And so Richard told his tale; of how Kahlan Amnell traveled through the barrier separating Midland and Westland, bringing him the Book of Counted Shadows. He told of his meeting with a man he thought to be a hermit who turned out to be Zeddicus Zu'l Zorander, who gifted him the Sword of Truth—the marvelous blade at his side—and named him Seeker of Truth.
"I understand your amusement at my phrasing," Ilend broke in, thought not rudely.
"It is a particular grouping of words that I'm not sure many people ever think too closely on when put together; your father must have been a good man, to seek such a noble thing as truth."
"I'd like to think so," Ilend nodded warmly. "Please, continue."
Richard picked up the story, telling of their journey into Midland, his capture, torture, death and resurrection at the hands of the Mord-Sith. How they stumbled upon the D'Haran plot to recover and reassemble the Boxes of Orden. How they had raced against the clock and the Darken Rahl to assemble obtain the Power of Orden to overthrow the tyranny of D'Hara.
"I take it this Darken Rahl is not the most pleasant of characters," Ilend said thoughtfully.
"No, not in the least. A tyrant...a monster really. He killed all the first born sons of Brennidon, my birth place in Midland, to try to kill me. But I had already been whisked away by Zed to Westland. And," he shook his head, recalling the Whisperers, "He's done worse, if that can be imagined."
"That is certainly terrible, though Tamriel is not without it's share of tyrants and bloodthirsty rulers," Ilend replied.
"I don't suppose there's ever been a world, yours, mine, or otherwise, where there isn't some evil at work," Richard agreed.
Ilend studied him thoughtfully, visibly pondering the story he had just heard from the stranger of Westland.
"Tell me, Richard...these Boxes of Orden...what are they?"
"In truth, I don't really understand them myself; Zed was more of the Loremaster. As near as I can tell, they have something to do with the bending of wills; whoever controls the boxes can control the will of any and all. A Confessor's power, but on a much grander scale. Extraordinarily powerful. Which is why we needed to prevent Darken Rahl from getting that power," he took a breath, imagining the potential windfall of such a scenario. "What resistance there was against him and the armies of D'Hara would be wiped away almost instantaneously. His control would have been absolute."
"Did you manage to recover these boxes, Seeker?" Ilend leaned in, using his title as oppose to his name.
"We did," he replied, eyeing his interrogator. "We were actually attempting to use them when Rahl showed up and interfered. There was a brilliant flash of green...and I ended up here...in Tam...Tamrel?"
"Tamriel, Seeker. You are in Tamriel. In the Imperial Province of Cyrodiil, the city of Kvatch, to be more specific. Now," he looked over to a nearby porter, "my guess is that after all you've been through, you're hungry, thirsty, tired, or some combination of the three. Marcus, come here," he commanded the porter. "Bring this man some food and wine, make sure he's comfortable. I go to report to Captain Matius, and then we," he turned his attention back around, "shall have a conversation with the Count. Rest easy, Seeker. You are our guest here, and will be treated as such."
"Thank you, Ilend, I really mean that," he said warmly. "But, I need to find out how to get home."
"All in good time, Seeker. I doubt the Count has the answers, but certain formalities must be entertained. After this, we'll help you as we're able. A visit to the Mage's Guild will likely be our next stop. But all in good time."
Richard nodded, having nothing to really protest, other than the very unnerving feelings he had being in an unknown land, possibly an unknown world, and no idea how he got here or how he could leave.
He glanced over to a window; it appeared dawn was upon them. Strange, the hue of the colors, he thought. A red sky in the early morning wasn't all that uncommon, but this horizon looked like a deeper shade of crimson rather than a dawn red...and unless he was mistaken, those appeared to be fractures in the sky. And he could have sworn he heard the crack of thunder.
What a strange world this Nirn was...
