Chapter 28
Return to Ceya-Tar
As promised, three days after the banquet, Telepe received a message from the King of Hrotanda Vale. Reluctantly, he granted the rebels leave to move through his territory, so long as they touched nothing and left his citizens alone. Telepe couldn't help but grin as he presented the letter to Edanu, who had him read it aloud before nodding and immediately setting about organizing a caravan.
At first, Telepe had assumed that they would once again send only a small group of men to Ceya-Tar, perhaps a hundred men or so. Tari, however, had spoken up and explained that if they intended to gain access to the secrets hidden in Ceya-Tar, they would require a larger army. King Hadhuul was not one to negotiate, especially if he felt he held the advantage, and he would not be intimidated by a hundred warriors. Thus, she insisted that they assemble a larger force with the intention of attacking and sacking kingdom, if need be.
After considering her recommendation, Edanu had selected three hundred warriors for the assault on Ceya-Tar. When he saw the Nedes being assembled in the courtyard of Sancre Tor, the captain of the Nords – an enormous bear of a man by the name of Thornir – had suggested allowing three hundred of his own men to accompany them. When Edanu had hesitated, the captain explained that they were wasting their money by simply having the Nords guard a remote kingdom that was unlikely to fall under attack, and that the walls would be more than sufficient to withstand a siege anyways. Many of his men were growing restless, especially since most of the rebels' conflicts had been settled with minimal bloodshed. It would do his men good to join them on the journey south, Thornir stated. After some hesitation, Edanu reluctantly agreed.
Once the men were selected, Telepe asked Edanu if he intended to accompany them, but Edanu had declined, to Telepe's mild surprise. When Telepe pointed out that he was the senior centurion, Edanu had replied that it was wiser for him to remain in Sancre Tor. If something went wrong during the expedition, at least the rebels wouldn't lose their leader in the north, and he was confident that he could maintain command of the garrison while they were away. What's more, it was a good opportunity for a couple of his newly promoted centurions to take command of the units they were sending to Ceya-Tar, as it would give them valuable experience. Telepe initially disagreed, but Edanu explained that the junior centurions would be led by a veteran who had been in command since Arpenia, and they would have Pelinal with them as well. Telepe finally admitted that Edanu had a point, though when he later thought back to Edanu's comment that he had promoted even more centurions, he began to consider whether the structure of the army needed to be adjusted. Between Sancre Tor and the army in the Blackwood, there were already dozens of centurions, and while no one had questioned Edanu's commands due to his seniority and appointment by Perrif, Telepe began wondering if they might need to create a higher rank to solidify his position. It was something he would explore when they returned, he decided.
That night, Edanu treated Nede and Nord alike to a warm, heavy meal before they departed. While the men typically subsisted on bread, cheese, and dried vegetables, with perhaps a bit of fowl if they were lucky, this evening they were fed a heavy stew made from barley, freshly harvested vegetables, and bits of game meat, accompanied by soft wheat bread laced with honey, and all washed down with a strong black beer the Nords favored and a rich red wine that the Nedes preferred. As the men ate together in the barracks, Edanu wandered from table to table, taking a bit of time to speak with each of the warriors. He assured the fresh recruits that they would do well on this expedition, and he instructed the veterans to protect their less-experienced brothers and sisters. He also allowed the men to ask questions about where they were traveling and what was expected of them. While he didn't answer specific questions about their strategy, Edanu did try to assuage any fears that they had, reassuring the men that their friends would be looked after, and their families protected while they were gone. For his part, Telepe thought Edanu was being too familiar with them. His king had always insisted that a commander should remain apart from his warriors, so that they didn't start to lose respect for a man they considered a friend rather than than a leader. Still, when Telepe saw the younger warriors' fears evaporate and confident smiles spread across the faces of the veterans, he wondered if his king was mistaken, or if there were simply other styles of leadership that worked better, depending on the leader.
The six hundred warriors departed early the next morning before dawn, traveling out of the west entrance of Sancre Tor before turning down a narrow road winding south through the valley. Telepe had reluctantly agreed to allow Emero to once again be hitched to one of the wagons, though he could tell from his horse's irritated tossing that he would need to make a point to ride his horse more often. Unlike their previous journey, Telepe insisted on walking beside the wagons in his traveling clothes, much to Dynar's chagrin, as the Ayleid was once again driving one of the wagons. Telepe, however, pointed out that there was no reason for him to accompany Dynar for the first portion of the journey, as Hrotanda Vale was friendly, and they were unlikely to be stopped by Ayleid patrols. Besides, he insisted, he had not been walking enough, and if they were to be traveling frequently, he needed to remain in good condition. Dynar had reluctantly agreed, though he insisted that when they finally reached the highway, Telepe should join him.
The first few days of travel through Hrotanda Vale passed uneventfully. The air remained cold, even as they headed away from the mountains and traveled through the rough hinterland. Winter was only a few short weeks away, and Telepe suspected that they would not return to Sancre Tor before it began. Most of the leaves had already fallen off the trees that they passed by, and the fields were growing increasingly barren as the last of the autumn harvest was collected.
Telepe noticed that much of the vale had been converted into farmland, with acres of cut wheat and barley stretching across the steep terrain. Vineyards were also common, with clusters of grape vines stripped bare of their fruit. A few of the farms they passed also grew thick orchards of apple or pear trees, and once Telepe noticed a collection of beehives clustered around a farm in the distance.
As they followed the road, the army occasionally traveled past small hamlets, clusters of low stone buildings carved out of limestone, granite, and marble. While not as opulent as the sweeping two- and three-story houses of the major cities, the modest houses did share the characteristic arched doorways and windows of their urban counterparts. One village they passed by close enough that Telepe could make out the villagers watching the traveling army with a mixture of curiosity, fear, and finally revulsion when they noticed that the warriors were mostly human. However, he was pleased to see that the humans watching them did not wear chains or collars. It seemed that the King of Hrotanda Vale had carried out his promise to liberate his slaves.
After two days of travel, Telepe overheard one of the scouts speaking to the centurion heading the expedition, a woman by the name of Orina. When he had first heard the name, Telepe had thought it sounded familiar. Only later did he recognize her as the woman that Pelinal had chastised a few months prior for failing to maintain discipline with her men. It seemed that Pelinal's harsh words had spurred a vast improvement in the woman's leadership abilities, as no one had yet disobeyed her commands, and she now carried herself with an air of confidence. When the scout approached her, she beckoned him closer and motioned for him to speak in a low voice.
"There are Ayleid warriors pursuing us," the freckled young scout murmured in a concerned whisper, though still loud enough that Telepe could overhear. "They're not making much of an effort to remain hidden, but it's clear that they're tracking our movements."
"Indeed?" Orina asked absently. "Were they carrying shields bearing two blue mountains?"
"Ah… yes, my lady," the scout confirmed slowly.
"I see. Pay them no mind," Orina assured the young man easily. "Those warriors shall not attack us. They simply wish to observe."
The young man hesitated, but nodded uncomfortably and slipped away. Out of the corner of his eye, Telepe noticed Pelinal watching Orina from the other side of the caravan, and once Orina sent the scout on his way, the knight let out a soft snort that Telepe suspected was an indication of his approval.
As they wound their way through the valley, Hrotanda Vale's scouts continued to shadow them, though they kept their bows slung over their shoulders. Though they kept to the trees and the fields, they did a poor job of remaining hidden, and it wasn't long until most of the caravan was aware of their presence. Telepe suspected that was intentional, however. If the scouts wished to remain hidden, they knew the terrain far better than the rebels, so traveling unseen would have been a simple matter for them. It was more likely that they wanted the caravan to be aware of their presence, to know that they were being watched, so that they would refrain from harassing the population. Telepe chose to think of the elves' observation as an escort rather than a warning, especially since the men remained docile anyways – even the Nords, whom he had feared would be more difficult to control than their Nedic counterparts.
The further south they traveled, the warmer the air grew, and the more numerous the trees became. Sporadic maples and oaks slowly gave way to groves of olive trees and date palms, and broad, leafy ferns gradually began poking out of the ground between patches of grass. After passing a fork that divided the road into southern and south-eastern paths, the scouts broke off their pursuit, indicating that they had reached the limits of the territory that Hrotanda Vale controlled. The caravan was now traveling through unclaimed wilderness, where tribes of goblins and packs of wild beasts made their homes, unchecked by the patrols of the Ayleid kingdoms.
The rebels followed the road almost due south through an uncleared patch of jungle that Telepe initially mistook for the edges of the deepest parts of the jungle that they had wished to avoid. When he mentioned this to Dynar, however, the elf had chuckled and informed him that they were still a few days from the true depths of the jungle, much to Telepe's surprise. Even so, he found that he didn't mind the travel. Though they did suffer two periods of moderate rainfall, the weather was still more pleasant than at any point during his journey through the Blackwood, and while the air was still uncomfortably humid, it was noticeably cooler – though if he didn't know better, he would have thought it to be early autumn rather than on the brink of winter, based on the temperature alone. He wondered if he was beginning to truly acclimate to Cyrod, or if he had simply unconsciously decided that there was little use dwelling on his slight discomfort when he had already suffered far worse.
The trees continued to grow closer together as they headed south, until the group was once again submerged beneath an oppressive canopy of tall trees. The familiar sounds of birds and wild beasts shrieking to each other echoed in Telepe's ears as they trudged through the jungle, which he was surprised to find was almost nostalgic. As the jungle swallowed them, many of the men stripped off their heavier clothing, leaving themselves clad in either chitons or simple linen skirts. Telepe was particularly amused when Tari emerged from her tent one morning, barefoot and holding her boots in one hand. She marched over to the wagon containing their travel pack and shoved the boots against the leather bag, whereupon she promptly forgot about the footwear and began striding confidently across the muddy, marshy ground, her steps much lighter and her movements more comfortable.
Telepe was pleased to see that Tari seemed a bit happier, at least briefly. The nearer they drew to Ceya-Tar, the more anxious she grew. She became increasingly withdrawn, speaking tersely even with those that she was closest to, and more than once Telepe heard her climb out of her tent late at night and pace around the campsite until the guards ordered her back to sleep. When they reached the edges of the deepest parts of the jungle, she hesitantly approached Telepe from behind and lightly tugged on his sleeve to get his attention.
"I… fear that we have not brought enough men with us," she murmured quietly. Telepe raised an eyebrow down at her and tried to peer into her face, but she avoided his gaze, staring pointedly at the ground.
"I'm sorry, but it's too late for us to return to Sancre Tor," Telepe replied, trying to keep from sounding annoyed. "What's more, it would be impractical for us to have taken more men with us anyways. It's already difficult enough feeding this many men, and we agreed that any more warriors would slow us down. You know as well as any of us that we must move swiftly to uncover the nature of the veil around the White-Gold City quickly enough to prepare for whatever it might unleash upon us."
"Yes… I know," Tari murmured, her voice catching in her throat. "However…."
She trailed off, and Telepe regarded her quietly as they ducked under a low cluster of fronds hanging over the road. "Do you fear King Hadhuul?" he asked softly. When she remained silent, he thought a bit harder, then suggested, "Or your former mistress, perhaps? Arcanalata?"
"Well… yes," she began slowly.
"I see. That's understandable, but you don't have any reason to fear them now," Telepe replied gently, smiling down at her. "You must know that Whitestrake is more than capable of standing against any king in Cyrod, and he's already proven that no mage poses a threat to him."
"No… no, I know that," Tari murmured, shaking her head. "But while I do fear him, in truth, what I truly fear is… Ceya-Tar itself."
Telepe's smile faded, and he tilted his head at her. "What do you mean?"
Tari shivered, but as Telepe reached to touch her shoulder, she shied away from him, much to his surprise. "I… have many horrible memories of the city," she replied slowly. "But worst of all are the nightmares that I personally created."
"Do you mean when you were apprenticed to Arcanalata? When she forced you to brew poisons for her?" Telepe asked slowly. Tari nodded sadly as Telepe let out a slow breath. "It's not as though you were responsible for what you were forced to do. It was either obedience or death, yes?"
"Yes, but it's not as though the other slaves would view it that way," Tari whispered. "And it doesn't change the fact that it was my hand that cut the herbs, that poured the potions down their throats, that held them still as my mistress observed their reactions. I… do not doubt that they despise me just as much as my mi- Arcanalata."
Telepe stared at her silently for a few moments until he almost tripped over a vine lying across the path. Swearing under his breath as he caught himself, he turned back to her and asked, "Do you believe you committed a sin by obeying her?"
"I… don't know," Tari admitted. "Perhaps?"
"If you feel that way, then liberating your fellow slaves is an excellent way to atone," Telepe pointed out. "That's why you chose to aid the rebellion in the first place, yes?"
"Yes… but it's one thing to liberate a group of slaves that you have no connection to," Tari retorted. "It's quite another facing those that believe you wronged them. What if… what if even after freeing them, they don't forgive me? Or, worse, they try to exact revenge upon me?" Her eyes began glistening as she added, "Would they be wrong for doing so? You wrote laws that claim they would be within their rights to seek vengeance upon me. If they did… would that be just?"
Telepe winced at her question, looking away. Reflexively, he wanted to assure her that she needn't worry, but he was certain she would see through that response as little more than an attempt to mollify her. Thus, he mulled her question silently for several long moments as they strode along the soft road. Finally, he turned back to her and replied slowly, "There is a case to be made that since you were the one who administered the concoctions, you are liable for their suffering. However, because you were under orders to do so – or, rather, coerced into doing so – many judging the case would consider Arcanalata to be the one who is truly guilty. While you do bear some of the blame, most would rule more leniently against you, perhaps giving you a lighter sentence, as you were little more than a tool used to commit the crime." He let out a long sigh, then added, "However, am I correct in assuming that's of little comfort to you?"
"…Yes," Tari muttered, folding her arms over her chest and squeezing them tightly together.
"I thought as much," Telepe said grimly. He ran his fingers through his loose hair, looking away uncomfortably. "I cannot say for certain how the slaves in Ceya-Tar shall judge you. You may be correct – it's possible that they may hold you responsible, and it's possible that they won't care that it was Arcanalata who was commanding your actions." He turned back towards her and added, "However, it seems to me that what matters most is that you have yet to forgive yourself."
Tari glanced up at him, then looked away again without answering. Telepe let the silence linger between them for a long moment, then spoke up again.
"What I can tell you, however, is that no one here will allow you to be harmed. And even if the slaves in Ceya-Tar reject you, do not forget that you have a family here that shall shelter and protect you." He smiled lightly and added, "Also, do not forget that you are doing wonderful work. Whether or not you forgive yourself, there are already many that are grateful to you for all you have done. And when we free Ceya-Tar, even if they do not voice it, the slaves there shall owe you their thanks as well."
Tari nodded quietly, still staring pointedly at the ground. "Thank you," she whispered. Before Telepe could reply, she pulled away from him and began walking more quickly along the path, clearly wanting to be alone. Telepe watched her with a feeling of regret roiling in the pit of his stomach. He knew that consoling her was an almost fruitless endeavor, and that nothing he said would alleviate her anxiety. It pained him that all he could do was offer her words of comfort, but he hoped that once they reached Ceya-Tar, she might find some measure of peace.
Travel became more difficult after the caravan left the road and they began wading their way through the thick jungle of central Cyrod. The carts had been packed light specifically to allow for off-road travel, but even so, they often sank into the soft ground and required teams of ten or more men to dislodge them from the mire. The one small blessing was that the occasional rain that fell was usually light, and barely pierced the thick canopy above, so at least the ground did not become any more saturated.
Fortunately, the scouts that led the party did an excellent job finding trails through the underbrush, and the trees were not as close together as Telepe had feared, so the wagons could still pass through. So long as they avoided the deeper parts of the jungle, the area within a few miles of the roads was kept relatively clear by Ayleid foresters. Here and there, Telepe even spotted a small farm or a cluster of houses, suggesting that some of the more reclusive Ayleids preferred to dwell in the less dense parts of the jungle, away from the politics of the city-states.
About a week after they left the road, Tari began to recognize some of the landscape. She started directing the scouts to hidden paths and secret passages that made traversing the jungle even easier, and though their progress only improved slightly, it was noticeable. A few days later, they emerged from the jungle onto the main highway once more, at which point even Telepe began to recognize where they were. Miraculously, by staying off the roads, they army had managed to completely avoid any Ayleid patrols, and there was only a short distance remaining before they reached the gates of Ceya-Tar.
Before they advanced on the city, Orina ordered the caravan to halt and make camp while the scouts ranged ahead to determine its defenses. As Telepe expected, Tari volunteered to accompany them, though Orina seemed surprised.
"I know the area better than anyone else," Tari pointed out. "And I know weaknesses in the city's defenses, including the blind spots on the walls."
Orina hesitated, seeming uncomfortable, until Pasare grinned and put her hand on Tari's shoulder. "We can trust her, centurion," she said. "Tari's familiar with this part of the jungle, and she's good at keeping quiet. We'd be glad to have her join us."
"…Very well. Just remain cautious," Orina nodded.
Telepe watched the half-dozen scouts disappear into the forest as he bit into a hard bit of dark brown bread. Dynar sidled up beside him, raising an eyebrow.
"Is something troubling you?" Telepe asked with a frown.
"You're not going to challenge her?" Dynar asked.
"Why would I?" Telepe shrugged. "She's correct – she's more familiar with this part of the jungle than any of us, and she's more than capable of protecting herself by now." He let out a light chuckle and added, "Besides, I doubt the Divines themselves could stop her right now. She feels she must atone for the suffering that she believes she put her fellow slaves through. And I believe that she intends to do so by doing everything within her power to help free the slaves of her homeland."
"I see. But she does have a reckless streak. What if she attempts to do too much?" Dynar asked slowly.
"Then we shall either aid her or dissuade her, depending on what it is she wishes to attempt," Telepe replied. Dynar frowned at him, clearly unconvinced, but decided not to press the matter further.
A few hours later, the scouts returned, with Pasare leading the small group and Tari at her heels. "It would seem that fortune favors us," Pasare announced. "The garrison defending Ceya-Tar is particularly light right now."
"What? Why?" Orina asked suspiciously. "I doubt they're fighting another kingdom, as it's a bit late in the season to be waging a war."
"No. More likely, their focus is upon whatever is occurring in the White-Gold City," Tari replied. "Especially since it seems that Arcanalata, the king's mage, has departed as well."
Orina tilted her head back slightly. "You're certain?"
"I am. Her personal guards are not manning the walls," Tari nodded firmly. When Orina frowned, she explained, "Her guards carry shields with a distinctive sigil upon them – three stars arrayed above a leaf. It distinguishes them from the city guard. I didn't see even one."
"I see. Is it possible that they are simply preoccupied with matters within the city itself and she requires their presence?" Orina asked slowly. "If they're her personal guard, does it not stand to reason that they could simply be attending to their mistress?"
"It's… possible, but highly unlikely," Tari explained slowly. "For as long as I have known her, my mist- Arcanalata has always insisted upon posting at least one of her own guards upon the walls whenever she was in the city. She disliked relying solely upon King Hadhuul's men, as they were constantly engaged in a power struggle, and she feared that not being apprised of all situations might provide an opportunity for Hadhuul to diminish her standing or act against her. Though he knew he needed her, he always hated and feared her, and was constantly seeking ways to lower her status and place her more firmly under his heel. She did not wish to give him that chance." Tari shook her head and added, "No, the only time she did not post at least one guard upon the walls was when she was not in the city, and even then, only when she had truly urgent business to attend to that required her full contingent to protect her."
"Is that so?" Orina asked slowly. "Does that mean that only her guards are no longer within the city, then?"
"It's difficult to tell," Tari admitted. "The walls still appear to be fully manned, and Arcanalata was only permitted a score of guards or so. However, there seems to be less activity around the city, which suggests that at least some of the other warriors are away. If whatever is occurring in the White-Gold City is truly that important, it's possible that King Hadhuul lent Arcanalata more of his warriors to protect her and ensure her safety." When Orina tilted her head at that, Tari added, "As I said, though he despises her, he also recognizes that he needs her. It would not be the first time that he provided her with additional protection for a dangerous or important journey."
"Either way, this is a prime opportunity to attack the city," Pelinal commented as he approached the group, apparently having overheard the last bit of the conversation. "I would recommend that we assault the walls immediately."
"That… may be dangerous," Tari admitted slowly. "Ceya-Tar can, in an emergency, field almost a thousand warriors, though most would not be properly armored. Even if we presume that Arcanalata took a sizable portion of the city's warriors with her, we are still likely outnumbered."
"And a siege would not be wise," Orina added with a frown.
"Well, there's no reason for us to attack the city anyways, is there?" Telepe suggested. "We simply came here to obtain information about the veil surrounding the White-Gold City, yes? Why don't we negotiate for it?"
Tari glanced over at Telepe and lightly shook her head. "Do you recall? The only reason you were permitted into the city last time was because Arcanalata vouched for you. You are now accompanied by rebels. Do you truly believe they shall permit you past their walls a second time?"
"Possibly. After all, we're in a strong position to negotiate," Telepe replied as he folded his hands behind his back. "If the garrison is weakened and King Hadhuul's mage is absent, it is far more likely that he might acquiesce to reasonable requests, especially if it means avoiding a pointless battle."
Tari let out a disdainful scoff and shook her head. "You… clearly do not understand King Hadhuul," she sighed, running her hand over her face. "The Fire King is brash and prideful, and he places a great deal of faith in his own might. If he believes you are insulting him, he shall not deign to speak with you. He shall instead ready for battle."
Telepe slowly raised an eyebrow at Tari's words. "Indeed?" he asked. He slowly turned his gaze towards Pelinal, who scowled irritably, until his eyes suddenly widened as he caught on to Telepe's thought, and a slow, savage grin spread across his lips.
"I see…." The knight said slowly, his bright blue eyes shining with excitement. "Do you believe you can goad him successfully, however?"
"In truth? Brash, reckless leaders are the easiest to treat with," Telepe replied with a cunning smirk. "Shall we speak with the guards?"
Tari tilted her head slightly as she glanced between the pair. "Do you mind if I accompany you?" she asked softly.
"Certainly," Pelinal replied before Telepe could respond. "I imagine that you more than anyone else in this army would love to see this tyrant slain."
"Yes… see it," Tari murmured to herself. Telepe frowned down at Tari as she moved past him without meeting his gaze. Something in her tone worried him, though since she already had Pelinal's approval, it was too late for him to keep her from joining them.
Pelinal approached Orina and briefly explained their proposition to her, which she only considered for a few moments before nodding in assent. Before they departed, however, she summoned a decanus and the captain leading the Nords, and instructed them to select ten warriors each. A few minutes later, ten Nedic hoplites clad in gleaming bronze armor stood in a column to Orina's left, while ten Nords wearing leather cuirasses and carrying bronze axes, maces, and shortswords were lined up to her right. These men, she explained, would serve as an honor guard for those approaching the city, while the rest of the army would remain within sight of the walls, though far enough back to avoid provoking the guards in the city. Telepe agreed with her reasoning, as a small group of warriors approaching the city would be taken far more seriously than a half-dozen travelers. Even so, he couldn't help smiling wryly to himself at the thought of Pelinal needing any additional protection.
Pelinal, Telepe, Tari, and Dynar slowly approached the gates, flanked by the two columns of warriors. They strode boldly down the road, allowing the warriors manning the walls ample time to see them and prepare for their arrival. As the Ayleids trained their bows on them, Telepe held his hands up, and once they were within speaking range of the walls, he raised his voice and called out to the guards.
"Hail, mer of Ceya-Tar!" he shouted. "We come with an official message for King Hadhuul!"
"The king has no time for the likes of random travelers!" one of the guards snarled. "Who are you that dares demand his attention?!"
"We come with an official challenge from the slave rebellion," Telepe called back, unable to resist grinning. "An opportunity for your king to attain a great deal of glory. Of course, if you wish for us to depart, and he later discovers that you turned away a messenger from a foe hated across Cyrod… what would the other kingdoms say? Would they accuse him of cowardice, perhaps?" he suggested. "Even if he had no knowledge of it, if the rumors began to circulate, and he later discovered the cause of those rumors…."
The guards glanced at each other uncomfortably while Pelinal chuckled darkly beside him. After conferring for a few moments, one of the guards hurried off the walls. When he returned, he shouted back, "Our king claims you are unwelcome here regardless. Begone!"
Telepe blinked in surprise. "Does he disbelieve us?"
"We did not trouble him by asking," the guard responded with a snarl. "Begone!"
Before Telepe could reply, Pelinal let out a growl, then roared up at the guards, "Tell that pitiful worm who calls himself a king that if he does not cease crouching behind his walls, Pelinal Whitestrake shall tear them down and beat him to death with the rubble!"
Telepe stared at Pelinal, struggling not to laugh at the knight's threat, as the elves traded concerned looks and hurried off to speak with their king once more. This time, when they returned, they were accompanied by a muscular elf wearing a complete set of ornate bronze armor and carrying a bronze-tipped spear over his shoulder.
"What's this, then?" King Hadhuul called down, narrowing his eyes in disgust at the intruders. "Who dares threaten my kingdom?"
Pelinal was about to shout back, but Telepe quickly interrupted, "We represent the human slave rebellion. We hereby request an audience with you-"
"Denied," Hadhuul interrupted curtly.
Telepe wasn't surprised, and he immediately added, "Then we hereby issue a challenge to you, King Hadhuul of Ceya-Tar. We require access to your city, and we are willing to challenge you for the right to obtain it."
"Also denied," Hadhuul sighed, waving them away. "I have no reason to turn my spear on baying dogs."
"Indeed," Telepe shot back, trying not to smirk. "Rather, you reserve your spear only for the most challenging of prey. Small children, for instance."
Hadhuul paused, drawing himself up a bit more as the Ayleids on the walls beside him traded worried looks and shied away from their king. "Mind your tongue, boy," he whispered threateningly.
"My apologies, king," Telepe replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I was mistaken. As I recall, the children are prey for your tigers, not for you. You do not even dare to hunt them yourself. Though, of course, naked and unarmed children are quite dangerous when cornered, so I understand why you fear to face them."
Hadhuul's ashen-bronze face turned a fascinating shade of deep purple as his eyes bulged with rage. He leaned over the battlements of his walls, roaring, "I am one of the most feared warrior-kings in Cyrod!"
"Truly? Was it actually your prowess in battle that earned you that distinction?" Telepe responded coolly, struggling to resist laughing at the king's growing fury.
"My spears have pierced the hearts of over a hundred famed warriors!" Hadhuul barked.
"Indeed? Tales of your cruelty are indeed well-documented throughout the realm. Your skill in battle, however? I've heard no such stories," Telepe replied, folding his hands behind his back as he began pacing lazily back and forth before the gates of the city. "Of course, it may be that once you were a powerful warrior, but those days have long passed, haven't they? I doubt there are any left alive who recall the last time you faced another in battle. Tell me, guards, when do you last recall your king facing down a powerful foe?!" he added, shouting up to the elves on the walls.
The elves looked away uncomfortably, with one muttering, "Please treat with our king, not us."
Another, however, shouted back defiantly, "Our king is mighty, and has kept us safe for many years!"
"Has he? Or has your safety been thanks to the skill of the court mage?" Telepe retorted, smirking as Hadhuul's eyes somehow grew even wider. "I've heard rumors that Arcanalata is one who truly wields power in Ceya-Tar. In fact, it was she that I expected to treat with, since you refused to meet with us at first," he added, turning back to Hadhuul. "Though I suppose that must be because she's absent now, yes? It's little wonder, then, that you have no desire to face the rebellion. As I said, your fear is understandable."
"Enough!" Hadhuul growled, holding the edges of the marble walls so tightly that Telepe wondered if they were going to crumble under his grip. "I shall suffer these insults no longer! Draw your sword and you shall have your duel!"
"Come now, king, there's no honor in slaying an emissary," Telepe retorted calmly. "No songs shall be sung of how you dispatched a messenger. Fortunately, you have a true foe before you – the champion of the human slave rebellion."
"…Very well," Hadhuul hissed, pushing himself away from the walls and storming towards the stairs. "And once I've slain him, I shall take your head next, boy! I shall nail your poisonous tongue above my gates as a warning to any who dares insult me again!"
As Hadhuul's heavy footsteps clattered down the stairs, Telepe calmly walked back towards the small group. The Nords were openly bellowing with laughter, and though the Nedes showed a bit more restraint, their shoulders were also shaking with barely suppressed mirth.
"I am loath to say this, but well done, elf," Pelinal muttered. "I did not expect you to goad him so effectively."
"I'm ashamed to say that it was almost too easy," Telepe admitted, inclining his head modestly in thanks. "The rash types can be easily led about by the nose, so long as you rile them up properly."
"Telepe?" Tari piped up, stepping forward. "If you would permit me… I would like to duel King Hadhuul myself."
Telepe's smile faded, as Pelinal slowly turned towards Tari, his bright blue eyes resting coldly on her. Despite the pressure of his stare, Tari met the knight's gaze without flinching, until Telepe lightly cleared his throat to return her attention to him.
"Are you certain that's wise?" he asked her slowly. When she turned to narrow her eyes at him, he explained quickly, "Yes, you've become quite skilled with magic, Tari. No one is denying that. However, your opponent would be the Fire King, a mer who is well-known for his own mastery over flames. That is one-half of your magical knowledge. Do you believe you can best him with raw power, or that your skill with lightning can compensate? To say nothing of his spearmanship-"
"I do not care how skilled he claims to be, or what the rumors say about him," Tari interjected firmly. "King Hadhuul is the man who held me in bondage for almost thirty years of my life. He is responsible for every blow inflicted upon me, every indignity that I suffered. And not only I, but my kin, my family – whoever they are, for I don't even know the identity of my parents, which is yet another thing he robbed from me – and every other slave I grew up alongside in Ceya-Tar." She took a slow breath, then exclaimed, "I demand that you allow me to face him, Telepe! I, more than any other member of this army, deserve that right!"
Telepe hesitated, but before he could respond, Pelinal took two long steps forward so that he was looming over Tari's tiny form. Before Telepe could react, the knight raised his heavy, gauntleted hand. Tari winced slightly, clearly expecting a blow, and Telepe started towards the pair, holding his arm out in a vain attempt to shield Tari. However, Pelinal then lowered his hand and placed it gently on top of Tari's head, lightly tousling her rusty-brown hair. Telepe froze, stunned, as a rare smile spread across Pelinal's face.
"Your courage is commendable, girl," he growled, pulling his hand off of her head. "As is your passion. Yes, no one has more reason than you to face this king in combat."
Tari's bright green eyes widened slightly. "Then-?" she began.
"However, you are incorrect. You do not have the right to face King Hadhuul," Pelinal continued, his smile fading. "That right is afforded to me alone, as the Paravant's champion, and I shall not surrender that right to anyone, no matter how justified their reasons. Stand down."
"But-!" Tari began.
"Silence!" Pelinal barked, narrowing his eyes at her before she could say any more. Tari's protest died in her throat, and she slowly closed her mouth and gazed down at the ground. After a few moments, Pelinal's scowl faded, and he reached out, putting his heavy hand on her shoulder. "Though it is not your place to duel on behalf of the Paravant, you shall serve our lady in other ways," he said in a quieter tone. "Were you to fall here, our journey would be for nothing. You alone can find the answers we seek within this city, yes?" When Tari nodded, Pelinal replied, "Then direct not only your courage, but your wisdom towards that objective. And in the meantime, allow me to dispatch this… obstacle that dares interpose itself between us and our prize," he added, the last words coming in a vicious growl as the gates of Ceya-Tar swung open.
Hadhuul stormed through the portal, gripping his spear tightly in one hand as he descended the short flight of granite steps leading into the city. His glowing blue eyes briefly fixed themselves on Telepe, who felt his heart starting to pound under the sheer fury of the enraged king, before they turned to Pelinal. The Ayleid king spat at Pelinal's feet, snarling, "You are the one they call Whitestrake, yes? The one who tore out Haromir's neck like a starving wolf?"
"It was no less than any mer deserves," Pelinal sneered as he dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword and slowly drew it from its sheath.
"Well… perhaps Haromir did," Hadhuul shrugged. Telepe's eyebrow twitched as he felt a brief flare of annoyance, though it quickly died down. "However, as your serpent-tongued envoy said, there's no glory in slaying a velvet-palmed, perfumed merchant."
"There's little glory in slaying a fat, decadent slab of a mer well past his prime, either," Pelinal retorted with a sneer. "But I shall derive what pleasure I can."
"Insolent-!" Hadhuul snapped, suddenly lunging at Pelinal with the tip of his flaming spear. The knight smirked and effortlessly deflected the blow to the side with a lazy flick of his sword, letting out a soft chuckle of delight as he pulled his helmet over his head.
Telepe quickly stepped forward, though he was careful to remain out of range of the two fighters' weapons. "King Hadhuul! If Pelinal Whitestrake emerges victorious from this duel, you shall grant us the right to search your city as we please! Agreed?!"
"If you can take the keys to my city from my cold, dead body," Hadhuul snarled, dropping into a low stance and gripping the shaft of his spear tightly with both hands. "And if I emerge victorious, I shall have you all flayed, and your skins shall bedeck my walls for a year!"
"How gruesome," Pelinal remarked lazily, before Telepe could respond. "Come, 'hunter.' Show me how dull your years of indolence have made your spear!"
Telepe sprinted back to the guards, who had their own weapons drawn and were warily eyeing the archers on the walls, who in turn had their bows trained on the entourage that had accompanied Pelinal. Telepe swallowed, feeling a knot in his stomach as he eyed the elves, wondering if they were going to interrupt the duel by firing at Pelinal when they had an opening. Given Hadhuul's cruelty, he wouldn't have been surprised. A nudge on his back startled him out of his thoughts, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Huna smiling at him.
"You're too tense. Relax," the young man said, nodding at Pelinal. "Trust in him. He has never failed yet, and he shall not here."
Telepe swallowed and nodded as he returned his attention to the fight. Pelinal had managed to draw his mace as well, gripping it tightly in his left hand and his sword in the right, the opposite of how he usually fought when he had both weapons drawn. Hadhuul, meanwhile, danced around Pelinal in a circle, thrusting at him with his spear. Telepe had to admit that the king had excellent footwork and distance control. Pelinal was unable to slip past Hadhuul's spear and get in close enough to attack him, as each time he moved forward, Hadhuul jabbed at him and forced him to step back.
"What's this? I thought you wished to fight me, champion," Hadhuul sneered, lunging at Pelinal with a two-handed thrust that narrowly missed the knight's head, as Pelinal managed to barely duck out of the way. "You've yet to land a single blow."
Pelinal ignored the taunt, and at the next attack, swept his mace up to catch the spear just under the point. He slid his arm around in a short circle, trying to trap the shaft of Hadhuul's flaming spear under his armpit, but the king managed to predict what Pelinal was doing and once again yanked his weapon back before it could be caught.
"Do you wish to burn yourself?" Hadhuul demanded, frowning incredulously.
"Do you believe your spear can burn me?" Pelinal retorted. He suddenly charged forward three steps, but Hadhuul managed to match his movements, carefully maintaining the distance between them.
Pelinal let out a snarl and began circling slowly around Hadhuul, who kept his spear pointed at Pelinal's chest. He flicked out a single jab, which Pelinal managed to deflect, and then the knight swayed forward, feinting an attack. Hadhuul fell for the bluff, taking two more steps back before recovering and resetting his position.
As if realizing something, Pelinal tilted his head up, chuckling loudly enough for Telepe to hear. He lowered his mace for a moment, then suddenly sprinted towards Hadhuul. The king hissed and jabbed at Pelinal twice as the knight closed the distance. Both times, the spear struck him cleanly, once on his chest and again on his shoulder, but the bronze point didn't pierce the heavy silver mail. Hadhuul's eyes widened, and he ducked just as Pelinal swiped at him with a horizontal slash of his sword, then swung his spear around in a short arc, hoping to force Pelinal back.
The flaming tip of the spear harmlessly bounced off of Pelinal's boot, and Hadhuul was forced to scramble back further as Pelinal continued to advance. Two more spear thrusts were deflected away, one with his mace and the other by Pelinal's heavy armor. Hadhuul let out a roar of frustration as he continued to back away, still furiously jabbing at Whitestrake, struggling to halt his advance.
"What is your armor?!" Hadhuul cried.
"It would be useless to explain it to you," Pelinal replied smugly. "No man or mer could craft armor like this."
"King Hadhuul must be growing frustrated," a soft voice commented from Telepe's right. He glanced down to see Tari watching the fight intently, though she glanced at Telepe when she noticed his gaze. "Between the heat of the flames and his own considerable strength, he is said to be able to pierce any opponent's armor in no more than three blows. This is likely the first time he has faced an enemy that he could not overwhelm with sheer might." A slight, vicious smile spread across her face as she added, "It is quite satisfying to see him squirm like this."
Telepe regarded her silently for a moment longer, then turned back to the fight in time to see Hadhuul backpedaling as Pelinal continued to press in. Though it was clear that his armor was more than sufficient to protect him, the knight continued to sway out of the way of the king's thrusts, avoiding his furious attacks while continuing his inexorable advance. Each time Hadhuul tried to circle around, Pelinal matched his movements, not allowing him to move in any direction but backwards – towards the walls of his kingdom.
When Hadhuul's heels finally hit the granite steps leading into his city, he stumbled slightly, but managed to recover his balance in time as Pelinal suddenly lunged in, swinging his sword in a short, deadly arc. The king managed to bring his spear up to block the blow, and though the silvery blade left a deep gouge in the hard wood, the spear held. Pelinal snarled and brought his sword back again, but Hadhuul lowered his shoulder and tried to push Pelinal back, clearly attempting to create enough space for him to get away from the walls. However, he may as well have been trying to push a mountain, as Pelinal hardly moved when Hadhuul's shoulder collided with his chest. The king looked up just as Pelinal smacked the back of his gauntlet across Hadhuul's face. His fist collided with the king's bronze helmet, and a loud ringing sound echoed through the trees. The king was knocked flat on his back across the stairs, mostly unharmed thanks to the metal protecting his face, though still clearly dazed.
Pelinal stood over the king, and before Hadhuul had a chance to recover, he raised his sword and plunged the flaming blade into his breast. The point pierced Hadhuul's breastplate as though it were little more than a breadcrust, and the king let out a pained yell as the weapon sank into his torso. Telepe grimaced as Pelinal sneered, twisting his weapon while keeping his boot on Hadhuul's shoulder to keep him in place.
Telepe stepped forward to put an end to the duel as Hadhuul managed to raise his head. His bright cyan eyes burned with hatred as he glared up at Pelinal. "I shall never allow your kind to hold my kingdom!" he hissed furiously. "Even if you slay me here, I swear I shall rise again and murder any of your kind that dare try to claim to my lands!"
Pelinal ignored the king's posturing, and instead roughly yanked his blade out of Hadhuul's chest, eliciting another scream. He then slashed the point of his sword across Hadhuul's throat, splashing the granite steps with his blood and ending the King of Ceya-Tar's life.
Telepe hesitated, watching Pelinal warily as the knight flicked his sword to clean it of most of the blood. He then looked up at the Ayleids guarding the gate and bellowed, "Your king lies dead! Open the gates and allow us to claim-"
"Avenge the king!" one of the bowmen suddenly shouted. Before Pelinal could react, one of the archers drew his bowstring back and loosed an arrow. The bronze arrowhead bounced harmlessly off the heavy pauldron protecting Pelinal's shoulder, but that initial attack was quickly followed by two more archers loosing arrows at him. Pelinal roared with fury and quickly pulled his shield off his back, deflecting the sudden barrage of bolts.
"Traitorous-!" Pelinal bellowed, then turned to the human army waiting behind him. "To arms!"
Telepe felt bile rise in his throat as he slowly drew his sword, gazing warily at the archers on the walls. He didn't have a shield or armor, and as many of the archers turned their bows towards the army advancing on them, he suddenly felt very exposed. As the bolts flew towards them, a strong hand forced him to his knees, and he ducked behind an armor-clad figure. He grimaced at the sound of the arrowheads clattering off the bronze face of the shield in front of him, though thankfully none slipped past the barrier. When he looked up again, he saw Huna standing over him, smiling warmly.
"Are you alright?" he asked, holding a hand out to help Telepe to his feet.
"I… I seem to be," Telepe stammered, allowing himself to be pulled up.
"Huna… raise your shield a bit higher next time," one of the Nordic mercenaries piped up, nudging the young man in the back. "You shouldn't be looking over the rim when arrows start flying."
"Apologies. I shall bear that in mind," Huna nodded. "Now let's hurry!"
Telepe swallowed and nodded as the group of twenty warriors surged forward. They sprinted across the field as more arrows flew towards them, though the bolts continued to ring harmlessly off their shields and heavy armor, save for one unlucky warrior who was struck in the heel and fell to the ground, shouting in pain. By the time they reached the gates, Pelinal had searched the body of the dead king and found a dark, heavy key, which he jammed into a keyhole and turned. He then lowered his shoulder and rammed his body into the thick double doors, which burst open under his weight.
Immediately, they were met with a swarm of Ayleid warriors brandishing spears. Telepe, who had been on the threshold of the gates, skidded to a halt and allowed the Nedes to rush past him. The warriors immediately formed a shield wall and pushed forward, while the Nords, Tari, and Telepe lined up behind them. With Pelinal leading them from the center, the Nedes shoved their way in, jabbing at the Ayleids over the rims of their shields with their own spears. One of the human women cried out and dropped to one knee as a spearpoint found her thigh, but she kept her shield raised and continued thrusting at her enemies from her kneeling position.
Pelinal had drawn his mace by this point, and as he stood beside Huna, he swung the heavy weapon around in short, vicious arcs, bellowing with rage and delight. Each swipe of the mace cleared three or four spears out of the way, allowing him to push deeper into the enemy ranks, where his powerful blows dented shields, armor, and helmets, sending the Ayleid warriors reeling with every strike. The Nedes took advantage of the openings Pelinal made, thrusting their spears into the gaps in the enemy formation, bashing dazed opponents with their shields, and continuing their steady push past the gates. Finally, after a couple minutes of jostling, the Ayleids began falling back, surrendering the gates to the Nedic advance.
As soon as the spearmen fled, the Nords pushed past the Nedic warriors and began scrambling up the stairs, screaming savage battle cries no less fierce than Pelinal's. They charged at the archers on the walls, their axes and swords flashing as they recklessly threw themselves on the Ayleid bowmen. The screams of the elven guards mixed with the wild laughter of the mercenaries, all of which made Telepe's stomach turn.
Pelinal stopped Telepe and Tari in the shadow of the gatehouse, whereupon he reached down and pulled a shield from the arm of a dead Ayleid and shoved it into Telepe's chest. Telepe swallowed and strapped the shield to his left arm as Pelinal turned to Tari. "Go and conduct your search." He then turned to the seven remaining Nedes still hovering in the gatehouse and added, "Guard her with your lives. Move!" The knight then turned and grinned as he saw Orina arriving with the rest of the army, and he held his hand out, as though welcoming the rebels into the city.
"Come!" Tari shouted, darting past Pelinal before the guards could react. The eight warriors, plus Telepe, followed her through the chaotic streets of Ceya-Tar, holding their spears tightly as they shadowed her. Unarmed Ayleid citizens screamed as they threaded their way through the streets, but the group allowed them to flee, not bothering to pursue them.
"Where are we going?" Telepe shouted to Tari, shifting out of the way as a young Ayleid girl bolted past him, screaming frantically. "The palace?"
"The palace doesn't have much information about magic," Tari called back. "Most of our magical knowledge is stored in the Temple of Magnus. My mistress practically lived there, and it is our best chance at finding answers."
Tari turned down a narrow side street, leading them through an alley between a pair of white marble buildings, though she hesitated when at the end of the street, she saw an Ayleid warrior brandishing a shortsword. The young mer hesitated, then let out a yell as he charged at them. To Telepe's surprise, Tari suddenly darted past her guards and ducked under his wild strike, slashing the mer across the thigh with her bronze knife. The young man screamed and fell to the ground, clutching his leg and sobbing. Telepe noticed a thin line of dark green liquid at the edges of the wound, suggesting that Tari had coated the blade in poison when he wasn't looking. Coldly, Tari stepped over to the mer and plunged her knife into the man's throat, which immediately ended his screaming. She then calmly nodded to the exit of the alleyway, and the guards hurried to surround her once more.
After following the road for another minute, Tari led them to the front of an enormous building. At the bottom of a flight of stairs were a pair of heavy marble doors, which her guards pushed open for her. They then descended down another short flight of stairs before emerging into a vast temple. An enormous dome loomed above them, supported by marble pillars and high archways. Glowing blue pools of water lit by Welkynd stones illuminated the interior, as did shimmering stones embedded into the walls and ceiling of the temple. Marble benches were spaced along a central, open area, leading to an altar that was attended by a priest clad in pure white robes. A few Ayleids were milling about, though they all stopped and stared as the rebels barged into the temple.
Telepe raised his voice, his voice echoing off the cold marble walls. "Those of you who wish to live, leave now!"
The Ayleids traded looks and whispers, and then four guards surged forward, brandishing spears and swords. As they reached the small group, the Nedic warriors closed ranks. Once they were in range, the Nedes lashed out with their spears, catching one elf in the throat and another under the chin. The third warrior hesitated, lifting his shield and creeping hesitantly towards the formation, while the fourth tried to flank around the side. Telepe noticed her and turned to face the young woman, raising his shield and gripping his sword in a low position as his heart hammered in his throat. The female Ayleid stepped in and bashed her shield against his, momentarily throwing him off-balance, but as she tried to press the attack, he clumsily brought his sword around in a wild thrust that bounced off her breastplate. The attack did no damage, but it did make her pause, allowing Telepe time to regain his balance. He took a moment to size her up, then feinted with a jab over her shield, which made her flinch and raise the shield higher to protect her face. This exposed her bare legs, and Telepe took advantage of the opening, pulling his sword back and slashing her across her unprotected calf. A flash of red light erupted, and the woman's eyes filled with terror. She threw her weapons down and screamed hysterically as she scrambled up the stairs to the exit to the temple, just as the warriors dispatched the last guard.
Now wholly unprotected, the Ayleids began screaming and charging for the exit. The rebels allowed them to pass unchallenged, and within moments, they were alone in the eerily quiet, deserted temple. Tari sheathed her dagger and led them across the central plaza, their footsteps echoing off the hollow walls as she guided them to the back of the building.
Three wooden doors were spaced along the back wall. Tari led the group to the door on the left and pushed it open, revealing a small room lit by small white crystals buried in the ceiling. A heavy wooden desk was positioned against one wall, while the one opposite it was dominated by tall shelves littered with scrolls and clay tablets, and the back wall was bare. A mortar and pestle rested on the desk alongside a few herbs and the shattered remains of a crystal, which was half-ground into powder. The only decoration in the room was a thick bear-fur rug, and a brazier stood unlit in one corner, likely for warmth.
"Here you are, Telepe," Tari said, turning to him. "You may begin wherever you wish."
Telepe stared down at Tari, then glanced at the shelves. "You believe the answer lies somewhere in her library?" he asked.
"If it does not, I cannot think of any other place where it might be," Tari admitted. "There are few libraries in Cyrod, and my mistress greedily gathered any scrolls or tablets she could find about magic to add to her personal collection."
"I don't suppose you know what any of them say," Telepe asked with a frown, picking up one of the papyrus scrolls and gingerly unraveling it.
"Obviously not, since you've yet to teach me to read," Tari replied drolly. She then glanced at the rebel warriors hovering awkwardly in the doorway, waiting for orders, and added, "Ah… my apologies, but I'm not sure what else-"
"Could you all perhaps guard the entrance to the temple?" Telepe suggested, glancing up from the scroll, which seemed to be an explanation about bodily transmutation. "There's no telling when the Ayleids shall return."
"Of course," Huna answered with a nod, then turned to lead the other warriors away. Telepe smiled and turned back to the scroll.
"Unfortunately, it'll likely take me a few days to go through her entire library," Telepe admitted. "We shall need to fully secure the city."
"Could we not simply cart her library back to Sancre Tor?" Tari asked. "We have space in the wagons-"
"Ah… I thought that voice sounded familiar," came a muffled voice from the back of the room. Telepe and Tari both glanced around, baffled, as there didn't seem to be anyone else in the room with them. After a moment, the voice added, "Girl, would you be so kind as to turn the brazier?"
Telepe glanced at the brazier, suddenly realizing that its three legs were fused to the circular bronze base. Tari walked hesitantly over to it and pushed against one of its legs, whereupon it began rotating in place. To their shock, with a loud grinding of stone against stone, the back wall of the room slowly swung inward, revealing a tiny cell. A threadbare cot lay in one corner, and a barred window with sunlight streaming in was carved into the wall thirty feet above them.
Seated on the cot was the sole occupant of the room – an old, painfully thin Ayleid male wearing a tattered linen chiton. His face was obscured, but Telepe could see that his stringy hair was light grey and fell to his shoulders, and his bronze skin was unusually pale for an Ayleid. He clutched something on his lap, and he didn't turn towards the pair as they slowly entered the room.
"Speak once more for me, girl. Please," the mer implored her in a thin, frail voice.
"I'm… sorry?" Tari asked slowly. "Have we met?"
The mer began chuckling, almost madly, as he clutched the object on his lap a bit more tightly, bringing his knees up to his chest. "No…." he rasped. "At least, not yet. But I know of you, girl. And I've waited a very, very long time to finally speak with you."
Tari and Telepe traded wary looks, and then she turned to glare at the mer. "If we haven't met, then how do you know me? And what business do you have with me?" she demanded.
"You seek answers, yes?" the man replied as he patted the object on his lap. "I shall provide you all the answers you desire. In fact, I must provide you the answers you seek. After all, certain prophecies are not easily broken. They always come to fruition, one way or another."
"…Who are you?" Tari asked warily.
The Ayleid sighed heavily as he slowly pushed himself up from the cot. He stood unsteadily on his thin, bare feet, as though he was unused to moving, and then he slowly shuffled over to Tari and Telepe. As his face came into the light, Telepe inhaled sharply. Rather than the bright blue eyes Telepe had come to expect, the mer's were instead a pale, milky white. Telepe was so distracted by his eyes that it was a few moments before he noticed what the elf was holding. Clutched in his bony arms was a large scroll case, apparently made of ivory and silver and bedecked with jewels. The mer tilted his head, as though listening to something, and then he shuffled to his left and reached out with his right hand, fumbling for a moment before resting his fingers on Tari's shoulder.
"I am called Moralasil," the mer replied, chuckling for a moment, as though laughing at a private joke. "And as I stated, girl, I've waited a very long time to finally speak with you… the next seer of this Elder Scroll."