Sil'Rana

Silrana

Where to begin? There is no beginning or ending, really, so this is 'a' beginning at least. We were at the festival, newly arrived. It was as it has been nearly every year. They ways opened, the people arrived, and all was fairly normal and to be expected; the cutpurses in the alleyways looking for coin and easy pleasure at the expense of others, the cursed priests who hound Daigoro's thoughts, the food, the music, the vendors, and gawkers. All normal, save for the strange death of my cousin, Justinian, and the Beast we had slain on our way here.

That was, until that evening at the bonfire and storytelling. Darwin, the aged slinger of myth's and adventures from the ages had the people spellbound by his story of creation. And then, at the end of his tale, a scuffle between two drunks and Darwin over a bottle of wine. It all played out so strangely, awkward even. But there seemed no way to stop it, nor did anyone at hand even try. The old man ended up run through, and lay bleeding his life out in the dirt. I arrived at his side too late. Daigoro was there with me too, and a monitor reached his side then, only in time to see he was beyond hope and to comfort him a little as he passed. He spoke something to the effect of, "find the truth, monitor," and then he passed. The monitor, a bit stuffy and certainly one of those highly organized and detail oriented folks, was quickly all business and practical. He wanted to find family members, deal with the body, ensure its safe and proper burial. But I was too taken aback by what had happened at his passing.

A wave of energy had surged outward, and it only appeared as if only some among the crowd noticed. But it passed through me, and I felt it throughout my whole body. Daigoro and the monitor, his name turned out to be Meridian, I know felt it also, they jumped a bit and the shock of the strange sensation was upon their face and in their eyes.

Brought around by the monitor's calls to others around us I looked more closely at the old man. There, upon his garments, was an ancient symbol from the language of my forefathers. It matched a symbol for one of our noble houses. I told the monitor I would claim the body if none came forward, for he indeed was likely to be a distant relative of mine.

Just then, and beautiful dark-haired woman who moved with grace appeared at our sides, paid her respects to the old man, and left just as quickly as she had come. I saw the look on the monitor's face. He was shocked to see her, as if she was a ghost. And nearby another person who had gathered around the old man, a young fellow wearing the robes of a priest took interest in her too. He appeared to be one of the monks from that compassionate order, but the name of them escaped me.

I carried the old man to the monitors' tent, and then went outside to speak with Daigoro. The young monk had followed us. There was something about him, something I read in his face which intrigued me. I began to question the fellow and he seemed not to know why he had followed us or what had intrigued him so. His name was Peter, and after a few minutes I learned some things about him. He had felt the strange pulse at the old man's death. He recognized the mysterious woman who had paid her respects. And he truly appeared as the most innocent person I have ever laid eyes on. I was surprised that such purity could last so long. A literal babe in the woods, he was.

But we were interrupted then, by our mutual discoveries that the folks at the festival were beginning to move more slowly. Eventually, they stopped, and turned to dust at the slightest touch. Even the grass and rocks were effected so. In short time we had rounded up all those who seemed unaffected and who had not already left in a hurry. That included Daigoro, myself, Peter, Meridian and one of his apprentices, a nobleman named Laurant, a drunken ranger-type named Susan, and my cousins who were still in attendance. I ushered them all toward the Ranger's camp on the outskirts of the woods. I gathered up Peter, who was in a panic over his wards who turned out be a noblewoman and her 4 children. We gathered them alright, despite there profound drowsiness, and got them to our camp. Where they proceeded to curl up near the fire, and stop forever.

Sad. So sad. That poor woman and her family. All the people. All the innocents who perished that day. My heart mourned for them, and more for Peter. It was always the ones that are left behind who truly suffer. Those who pass on are free once again, and live on in spirit. But Peter was left to suffer, even though he put such a brave face on. The monitor dosed him with some sleeping herb as we began to discuss our options.

The Rangers went to check on the ways, to discover that they were closing. Meridian explained that he could FarSee, some strange gift he professed to possess. Monitor's are not normally known for fanciful exposition, so I decided to accept him on face value. He suggested that the Rangers go to the separate lands to report on what they found. We made a system, by where the Rangers would write in the dirt at their campsites what they had discovered. I agreed and so did they, and they rode out to make it through the ways before they closed.

We gathered ourselves upon our steeds, and I placed the inert Peter upon my own horse. We left towards Meridian's homeland, where he hoped to find some ancient writings which could help us determine what was happening to the land and its people. A long shot, but we had few options. Daigoro and myself led the way. The pass was treacherous, the way was truly closing in upon us, and then Daigoro and I sensed something shadowing us.

I left the party with orders to continue moving, woke Peter and placed the reigns firmly in his hand. He seemed disoriented, to be understood, and I saw something strange in the clutch of his palm that he had been gripping hard in his sleep. Strange, but I had no time for pondering such.

Leaving the band to the road we moved off into the thick of the wild. There I found tracks of a beast, a huge boar by the size and depth of what I found. I moved cautiously but quickly. Wild boars are known to double back on their own tracks, to lay in wait for a pursuing predator and in order to make them the hunted instead. I heard its thrashing ahead and knew I was close.

Then silence. I stood ready with my sword in the trail. It rushed from the underbrush at me. It was enormous and covered in a bulbous hide. I sidestepped and hacked at it, but my blade only bounced off its back. It was unnaturally armored. I attacked again, but this time aiming for the vulnerable neck. I struck a mighty blow and felt my blade bite deep, but I paid for it. The beast struck me with its tusks and head sending me flying through the air and into the trees. When I regained myself the beast was dead, bled out from my wound.

We returned to the group and continued on our way. The wild was pressing in on us, I could feel it. And yet the way stayed open. I could not explain it. My mind reasoned with me. We were in time before it fully closed. Slaying the beast kept the path open long enough for us. But as we left the wild and entered the land of the monitor proper, the way closed behind us fiercely and completely. That was not the way it worked, and I knew it. A thought grew in the back of my head, but I kept it there, kept it to myself, and mulled it all the way to the village where we found rest that night.