Many moons from when I last wrote here I passed into the lands of the west where I sought the prophetess told to me of so
long ago. Those lands seemed to border colde mountains on all sides, and I was somewhat reminded of the tyme I spent in the
torments of the one crowned in ice. I still carry those scars with me, and they ached anew as I trekked through the endless
stretch of rock and dust all about there. This was a desolate place, bereft of the mercy and piety of the Lourdes and Ladies
of domains I had travelled to reach here. The lunar cycle had renewed many tymes before I saw the smoke of fires not far from
where I slept one night in the shadow of an olde dead oak.
Laying my pack near the trunk and spreading my thin blanket for some small comfort against the hard packed earth, I soon
fell into the waiting arms of Hypnos and Somnia. That night, I dreamt of an enormous black bird circling overhead, watching
me. It seemed to shine in whatever light was about it, but I knew not whether in the dream it were night or day. After many
great circlings overhead, the great bird landed with a ruffle of mighty wings on to the branches of the olde dead tree, and
spreading its wings to their full reach called to me in a fell voice - terrible is it to hear the throats of the beast of
the earth, the sea or the sky calling to a man with words when their forms should not permit such things. And so, with a cough
that shook the very branches on which is sat, the dreadful bird called out to me, saying, "Fool! Fool of a man who serves
too many masters!
Have ye not found thine own reins? Have ye not cast thine own vision on the path through this wilderness? Then, fool,
shall I lend thee mine eyes, that thou might behold the future I have set down for thee!" Thus spoken, with a great cackling
laugh it beat its wings till once again it lifted from the withered tree that shook once more at its departure. And still
shaking, the very branches reached down and lifted me from my place till I hung head down, above the earth. It was in this
same posture I found myself upon waking, hung by my feet from the dead tree that clung to me tenaciously. With a mighty start
I fell, and landing among the twisted roots where my blanket and pack still lay, I quickly gathered them and made haste to
where I had seen the smoke of fire the previous night.
I was not long in walking before I crested the next few hills and stood before the primitive wooden gates of a small village.
The watchman, clothed in naught but dried mud and carrying a spear to which were tied a few strips of ruined fabric gestured
that I come closer and called to me in a strange tongue. In my many travels and tyme spent in many lands I had come across
many tongues, but I was many worldes from my home in this place, and had no understanding of what was called out. But his
gestures were inviting, if his face impassive, and his voice brought the attention of other villagers who also called to me.
Soon enough, a small group of hunters carrying various weapons and tools were coming to where I stood at the top of the last
hill before the village, and I was sore afraid that if I tried to run my fate would end with a spear or arrow to the back.
Knowing that a long quest still lie ahead of me, I waited till they approached, and they tried once again to speak to
me. One thing that had seemed common enough in my travels was the sign I now gave them, a closed fist held against the ear,
to signify that I could not understand their words. At this they looked first a little frightened, then somewhat laughed,
and gently but firmly taking my belongings they led me by the arms into their village. It was a fair enough place considering
the wastelands I have wandered to reach here. There was the many smells of community: the smell of cooking fires, the open
smell of wood and earth, the press of unwashed bodies, the faint tint of some poison I hoped was only used for hunting. Their
homes were simple as could be expected considering their surrounding, being constructed of pieces of wood, fired clay bricks
and dried grass thatched to their roofs.
Upon entering their village, many turned to watch our approach, younger men tying heads onto spears, women beating wheat
into flour and a few more adventurous children came up to point and stare and laugh as is their wont in all lands when a stranger
comes. These some of my party kindly led away, whilst the ones that remained brought me to a larger fire in the centre of
this place. They set my pack down and motioned for me to sit with them. Facing the fire was a larger hut, and this one had
a curtain of some fabric across the doorway, all stained with mud. Still, some designs could be made out on it, and near the
top I saw what looked to be a representation of a massive crow or raven with its wings stretching to each side of the entrance
way.
When we were seated one of the men who had left before returned with some flat bread, which he passed around, and with
some hesitation I took and ate with them. Many tribal societies consider it a terrible insult to not eat what is offered to
you, and I had not wish to insult these people. They spoke among themselves for some tyme, occasionally looking or gesturing
to me, and though they all wore expressionless faces made somewhat grim by the dried mud, they did not seem threatening or
unkindly. At length, one rose and went into the hut with the embroidered curtain and after a tyme, re-emerged always making
sure that no eye or light might stray inside. At this point he called to the others, pointed to me and smiled wolfishly. With
that, all but two of my captors left to their own places or business, and it seemed to me that some ill fate was coming.
The two that stayed made no motion or sign to me, but when I rose to stretch and wander about, they took me by the shoulder
and gestured that I be seated again. It was with tension mounting and the feeling in the village becoming anxious that I awaited
nightfall. As the sun began to set, more wood was brought for the fire and more villagers began to take their seats around
it. There was music as the night began to fall, and from all around, though unseen, drums pounded and pulsed. Suddenly, there
was a terrible cry, and the hunters that had left earlier in the day returned wearing masks stylised after carrion birds,
with red painted beaks and feathered headdresses. As they came out, dancing to the rhythm of the hidden drums, the other villagers
rose and departed and again I wondered what was to befall me here.
For hours they danced, rising and falling to the changing rhythm of the drums. At tymes their voices rose in song that
to me sounded wistful and brought to my mind images of life higher in the mountains, nestled among the slopes and aeries that
must have been far from here, mayhaps back in the mountain range I had passed to reach here. One by one they fell to the ground,
exhausted, chests heaving with deep trembling breaths until the last turned and pivoted before the muddy curtain, and raising
his arms above his head, cried out again. As he fell to the earth unconscious, the drums fell ominously silent. Without their
constant pulse the night seemed to draw closer, and all about was the feeling of expectancy. Slowly, the curtain across the
fire from me parted, and from out of the yawning opening came with slow steps an ancient creature.
Her head was bowed and her entire body almost doubled over as she verily crawled towards the fire. Swaying somewhat to
music she could only hear, she rattled something in her hands that gave off a wooden sound, and with a quickness that made
me start threw back her head and called out to the night in the strange tongue of these people. With that, she stared intensely
at me with eyes that burned with a deep inner fire, eyes to me that seemed to draw both shadow and light into them. After
my surprise settled I noticed that those eyes had no colour to them at all, and still they burrowed into me from where I sat
across from her. All her hair was tangled and knotted, and among it in many places were tied the bones and skulls of small
birds. And around her hairline, held in place by dried mud were many black feathers that shimmered softly in the firelight.
With a screeching laugh she made towards me, and to my distress seated herself in the midst of the flames, which touched
neither her flesh nor the robe of feathers she wore. As she settled herself among the embers I heard a great flapping, as
before in my dream, and much to my horror, the great black bird circled again overhead and landed where the olde creature
had first sat, watching me with beady eyes and, if possible with its beak, a crooked smile. Shaking her rattle amidst the
tongues of flames, calling my attention back to her, the olde crone called out to me in the tongue of my motherland, which
was many leagues from this place. I had known but a few that were not native to that land in my travels that knew my own language,
and was nearly aghast that this ancient thing called to me with words I readily knew.
"Childe," she called to me, and as she spoke, the black bird behind her croaked in unison, tearing at my senses,
"childe, thou hast strayed far from the course set before thee. Tell us, foolish childe, what be sought in thy long seeking?"
For some tyme I sat, reeling from the sensory attack that struck me from seeing this creature amidst the tongues of flame
speaking my mother tongue, and behind her, the croaking daemon-bird from my dream attempting once more to speak with words
meant only for human voices. Her eyes bore into me, closer now than before, and once again I marvelled at their lack of colour
besides the reflection of fire, and yet, they seemed to cast their own light sickly into the air about me. Her companion scratched
and pecked a little at the earth as I contemplated my response.
With a faltering voice I called out to her, "My Masters have sent me with haste to..." But her she raised her
rattle, and shaking it vigorously cut me off and said, "Foolish childe, we did not ask after what the crowns of thy Masters
sought, but rather what thy need is so far from home!" Some magick took me then, and the twist in her words brought the
memories of my long lost home before my eyes, and they were filled with tears of wistful desire to return there. Feeling my
tears burning down my face I once again looked to her through the fire and said, "I am a servant of powers and thrones
greater than myself, and to these I have sworn fealty. My quest then is to them and finding some cure for the plague that
has come upon my people and my kingdom.
Know then, that this same plague has ravaged my homeland to desolation, and has even taken the Great King from his throne,
and cast His crown into the seas of crystal and fire. His own brother has sent me into the wilderness and across the world,
into the very void if need be, to find some power or spirit that will allow us to survive this curse." At this she laughed,
and the flames rose all around her, and I had to crawl back from where I sat and shield my face the best I could. "Foolish
childe!" she shrieked amidst the flames, "Foolish childe, dost thou not know? Thou art the last, for all the nations
after thee are gone, destroyed, ravaged by this plague and curse thou seeks reprisal from! Cast thyself upon the stone, and
get thee gone from this place, lest Death find us in thy stead!" As she swayed in the fire, laughing and screaming to
herself, her companion, the great bird fluttered and flapped its wings, raising dust and ashes all about.
Covering my face against this I felt the sting of its talons bite into my arm, and with a violent heave it lifted me from
the earth once more and carried me out of the village after which all light and wakefulness left me, by spirit or poison I
knew not. When I woke, I was far from that terrible place, and winds blew all about me. As I gathered myself and looked about,
and seeing no others be they men or beast, stood to place myself. Despair set on me then, what if the creature's words had
been true? I tried to shake off the memory of her colourless eyes, of the bones and feathers shifting around in her hair,
of the cackling voice of her familiar. The great bird, if it had been the one that brought me, had left me high in the mountains
in an olde aerie. From where I sat therein, I could see in the distance a light on the horizon, and knew it to be neither
sun nor the fires of men. From there I could see the Garden of Zais, and knew that soon I could have some rest and answers
in my long quest.
* * *
It was only as I sat writing this that I noticed a terrible pain on my chest, and carefully rolling up my tunic, noticed
that my tormentors had carved into my flesh the sign of the feather, and within its outline a crown encircled by fire. The
blood around it was dark, and I knew these wounds would need more tending than I might give them. Feverish with poison and
the loss of blood, I shall once again rise afore long and set out for the Garden below me, praying that some god watch over
me till I reach it.
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