Emerald's BalmPrologue: The Delivery

Celedar Dell crested the lip of the frozen valley, a glistening bowl of white, and looked to the city of Secres in the center of it all. Icy wind blasted his eyes and tossed his golden hair around frantically. Despite the bitter cold, he took a moment to gaze upon the wonder below. From this vantage, the patterns of the protective glyphs were visible.  Each massive symbol was defined within the main thoroughfares.  Three immense runes were made of roadways: the middle glyph inside the largest, and the smallest within the middle. Eighteen towers dominated the other buildings and stood situated on the intersections of these giant symbols, each lending and amplifying the powers of the inner patterns, and, specifically, the castle at the very center of it all.  The entire city was a sort of magical battery, focused on building energy toward this elaborate goal.

Celedar was proud of his home, but not so proud as to freeze from the cold in his reverie upon beholding it. He concentrated, and his fingertips shifted to a blue color.  Winter's bite receded, and he began to run down into the valley, seemingly weightless across the surface of the deep snow.

There was no barricade guarding Secres city from invaders or the icy weather outside, only a small stone wall made of rock and rubble. It looked very much like the sort of thing a farmer would use to pen sheep, with the exception that every single stone was enchanted.  Each had some particularity to it, being either covered with tiny letters or glowing symbols, or embedded with jewels. Celedar stopped at this small barrier, whispered a few words, and stepped over it and into the warm summer air that filled the City of Mages.

Inside, he no longer ran, but retained purpose in his stride. He passed one of the outer towers, Moongleam, but could only see a vague crystalline shape of it in the noonday sun. It emitted the sound of wind-chimes, playing an old song he knew. He crossed the bustling merchants' square, ducking to avoid the suspended goods and merchandise hanging here and there. He narrowly avoided colliding with a woman walking a half-dozen cats on leashes.  He did not see the center glyph tower of Black Necros as he passed near it, but the hair stood up on his neck, and his head ached until he crossed the Entspine Bridge over the Estery River.  He moved deep into the city to where he could see three of the inner six towers. Though they all looked identical, it was toward Tor Larchim he headed.

The edifice was simple enough, light grey stone perhaps thirty stories high. Its roof was domed with a glass encasing that had a distinct green glow at night. Each of the six inner glyph towers were exactly the same, with the exception of the color of their glass under starlight. Together they formed the most important symbol and were ruled by the six lords of the council.

Without hesitation, Celedar walked up to the main door and pulled on a small chain (which in turn triggered a bigger chain that released a hammer to collide with an even larger gong) to ring the doorbell. After a moment, the great stone door melted to vapors and vanished. Celedar entered and followed a circuitous route unerringly to the tower library. The building was quite bright inside, despite the lack of windows. Many of the stones had been enchanted to allow sunlight to stream through them. When Celedar entered the library, he saw a man looking out one of these thick granite blocks at the city below.

His hair was an ashen color and his deep green robes were well-worn and should have been replaced with newer clothing. He was aged, on the cusp of elderly, but still stood with strength.  The left side of his face was concealed by an elaborate silk veil that hung from a black iron circlet.  This circlet was adorned with seven multicolored gemstones the size of a man's thumbnail. Iron tracings curled decoratively down from the metal and held the fabric in place. He turned and looked at Celedar with a single eye.

"Well, Mr. Dell, do not stand there.  Let me see them." He reached out a hand expectantly.

Celedar unhitched his pack and opened it. "It was no easy task, Sir Dhalryk. The Blisten left many an abomination in their old temple. But they were where you said they'd be." Celedar pulled out several thick books, bound in cracked leather and dust, and handed them to Dhalryk. "Are they powerful?"

Dhalryk raised his eyebrow and gave the man a half visible smile. "Not in the way you're thinking. They are my old diaries."
 

Celedar stared at Dhalryk in confusion, followed quickly by anger.

"But I assumed they were important tomes! You sent me to the ruins of Y'mir and the Ebon Temple of Blisten for your old diaries?" 

Dhalryk slid several of the books onto one of the library shelves.  "They are important to me Celedar.  I very much appreciate what you've done." 

Celedar fell back into a chair and ran fingers through his golden hair.   "You've no idea how difficult... the things, they were..."
 

"Yes, yes." interrupted Dhalryk.  "I was aware of the challenges.  I had every confidence in you and, look, you performed exceptionally!"
 

"But..."
 

Dhalyrk took a seat across from Celedar, a book still in his hands, and looked at his frustrated companion. "I'll tell you what. I believe you might feel better if you knew what was in them.  This is the first, and I was a very young man."

Without waiting for an answer, Dhalryk began to read.

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Continued in Chapter 1: The Sands of Sorrow -Part 1-