Kren looked up from his bowl of broth. He glanced from the servant to Therelin and then back again.
“That’s me,” Therelin said, and waved the servant closer. The Lowtide Tavern was frequented by drunks, sailors, and mercenaries, and Therelin wasn’t keen on them all knowing his business. Keeping his business private was something new to Therelin, but he was beginning to see how secretive some of his peers were.
The servant approached Therelin and Kren. “Lord Dakhu has returned to Noress-That-Was,” he said, and Therelin blinked. “He is ready to receive you today, at your leisure.”
Kren passed a Grey Sea coin to servant while Therelin thanked the confused man profusely. They had been waiting a month for Dakhu Lefayo to return. Kren, eager to accompany him, finished his breakfast swiftly. When Therelin asked if Kren had to work at the bakery this morning, his friend chuckled and continued following Therelin through the streets of Cobblestone Bog.
Their destination was the Castle of Matriarch Haladia. Haladia had perished to assassins since Therelin’s first visit to Noress; she had been preceded by Matriarch Belsara’s execution in light of her treasonous attempts to declare herself Empress. Now, only one of the three castles overlooking the sloped city was inhabited—Matriarch Valakono. Therelin had heard a lot of controversy about it; some commoners felt that Valakono should be focusing on electing two new Matriarchs, while others approved of their leader’s current priority—ending the war across the Grey Sea.
The guards at the gates of Castle Haladia showed Therelin and Kren across the lavish grounds. Despite her loss of life, Haladia’s staff continued to keep the veritable palace in the highest state of quality. The Empire’s Archives were kept in an adjacent building on the grounds, linked to the central keep, by way of an outdoor corridor of arching pillars. Flowering vines curtained the ancient, but maintained, masonry.
The only comparable library that Therelin had ever seen was that at the Academy of Ular Graan. Dakhu’s Archives were two-storeys of tightly-kept book stacks. Heavy tomes made some shelves sag, while other places had begun to collect dust—likely despite the earnest care provided by the custodians.
A tall Raderan man approached them as soon as the guards showed them into the first-floor chamber. He tipped his head to Therelin. “They mentioned that you had a letter for me?”
“Lord Dakhu,” Therelin said, and produced the letter. Kren stood behind his friend, timid. They both felt this setting was not one in which they belonged.
Lord Dakhu read the letter immediately, his eyebrows creeping higher and higher as he progressed through Selaara’s writing. When he finished, he regarded Therelin with concern. “I am aware of the recent attacks on the Isle,” he explained with a low voice. They were, apparently, alone within the Archives—and Lord Dakhu had, apparently, sworn the Vows by the Tether. “However, I had not yet heard a name fit to the as-of-yet elusive leader of this…lawless army. Tarro. It rings a bell, but most names do for me.”
Therelin was familiar with such confusion—he had spent many a day reading tomes, struggling to keep clear the various references of a dozen biased writers. He gently shifted his hands on his driftwood staff and said, “I’ve studied from similar libraries at Ular Graan, as well as smaller collections. Is there a way for me to help with this research?” He was a little impatient for answers and had hoped Lord Dakhu would already have them in mind.
“I certainly would appreciate the help—I do recognize the timeliness of this matter,” the tall olive-skinned man said, but then he grimaced. “This Archive, however, is not a public one and much of the glossing provides insight into the inner workings of the Empire. Perhaps, with some guidance, certain volumes could be left for your perusal while I focus my efforts on those books that you would not have permission to survey.”
With mild annoyance, Therelin shrugged. “In whatever way I can help, I will.”
To this remark, Lord Dakhu gave him a smile. “Excellent,” he declared, and rolled up the long sleeves of his tunic. “Feel free to request refreshments from the servants—they await in the corridor. I will go to consult my indices and assemble some likely records to begin.”
Therelin was eager to start and followed Lord Dakhu as closely as was polite, given the private nature of the Archive. Kren, on the other hand, was quick to order a glass of wine. “This is my sort of support—the sort that stays in a study, with a book and a glass of wine,” he told Therelin, quietly. “Far from harm’s way.”
The trio of readers spent their first couple hours looking through various registries—listings of the Barons of the Great Isle and their allies, other notable people from the Great Isle, and even known names from the wild tribes of the inner Isle. Therelin tried not to pick up unnecessary information, but some names stuck out—Elwar the Terrible, Drowen Deathless, and the like. Before this whole war had broken out, there had been the Barons, ruling their city-states and periodically waging wars against one another for sport, and there had been the bandit “tribes” of the inland, various free peoples that lived lawlessly in the no man’s land unclaimed by the Barons. Now, it seemed, they had claimed much.
The most promising from the first round of registries was a footnote referring to a magician keeping the peace between some of the wild peoples near the city of New Mallam. When Lord Dakhu pointed out that New Mallam seemed to be the first city that had fallen to Tarro’s armies, they had decided to search for more information related to New Mallam and this nameless mage. Therelin learned about the Ageless Academy—less of a scholarly institute and more of a museum of the strange. Lord Dakhu ruled out their involvement confidently, saying, “They’re very taken with their own digressions, but are rarely involved with even the most common magician alliances. I doubt they have any connection to someone like Tarro, though who knows what has become of them in recent days.”
Kren sipped his wine and shrugged, but they continued. Despite his antics, Kren was a swift and observant researcher.
Finally, they found another mention of the elusive magician near New Mallam, but it provided no further details than the first source had. In fact, it placed the account of the peacekeeping magician at over 40 years prior.
Therelin decided to set the registry containing the mention to the side for now. The man he had seen on the Great Isle would have been a boy or teenager 40 years prior, barring some very time-consuming Journeying spells. Next, the trio moved on with their searching for a source naming Tarro directly.
Soon after, servants brought them a dinner meal of imported rice, spiced pork, and flavourful salad. Therelin left his pork at the side, offering his apology to the chef. He had lived among the “foreigners” for a year now, give or take the months he had Journeyed, but it still seemed revolting to eat the flesh of a living creature. In Keth, it was believed there was little difference between the spirit of a man and that of a mammal.
“Were you there, on the Isle?” Dakhu asked, once the servants had left. “Did you see this…Tarro, when he attacked?”
Therelin nodded gravely. “Yes, I was there. I saw him arrive and give his ultimatum. I saw the fighting break out, and, as it grew more dangerous, Kren and I left for safety.”
“Ultimatum?” Dakhu asked, raising one eyebrow. He dabbed his bearded mouth with a cloth after finishing the moist salad.
Of course, Therelin thought, it will take a while for such details to emerge. He remembered the relative chaos of Master Gheran’s guild house. He explained how Tarro had compelled the magicians to abandon their cabals, to stop their scheming in the shadows, and to join him in forging a new world devoid of such secretive machinations—an urging he followed with threats of death.
“It’s a noble sentiment, I’ll admit,” Lord Dakhu decided, thoughtfully, “but taken in an altogether wrong direction.”
Therelin nodded. “As is true in most stories—the misguided villain believes he is doing sinister deeds for the sake of good.” Then it struck him that Lord Dakhu was the first magician with whom Therelin had spoken who had spoken against the various alliances of sorcerers. Therelin went on, “After all the magicians I’ve met that seem indifferent or supportive of all the secrecy—it’s refreshing to hear another perspective. I do believe that puppet-mastery is not an acceptable way of… improving our homes.”
Kren, another exception to that mindset, gave Therelin a reassuring smile. He had devoured the pork eagerly, and was now eating the remnants of his rice.
“Unfortunately, power does not solely rest with those who see things clearly,” Lord Dakhu posited. He smiled at Therelin’s approving gestures.
Soon, the team went back to work. There had to be a mention of Tarro by name somewhere in these Archives, and Therelin was determined to find it. The first step to reclaiming power from those who did not see clearly, was to do as much as possible to find better clarity—and right now, there was only obscurity for the sorcerer named Tarro.