You have discovered the Seal of the Unveiled Eye. You have been awarded the trait Divine Cartography: You may view a likeness of the lands and seas of Ayrgard, as though from far above.

As the rush of power from the shrine settled, each of their panels opened automatically, displaying a stylized map of the two continents, Þorrvost to the West and Austrvost in the East, with the thousand mile stretch of the great island Ulvrland between.

They wiped away the panels, each in the own time, and one by one, first Rory noticing Maggie’s wide-eyed upward gaze, then the succubus following the salesman, then Jack and Erin clueing in, the Chosen looked around for the first time since emerging from the portal.

The room was illuminated in a gentle, warm golden glow that cast deep shadows across the floor. Their gaze was drawn upward, to the source of that honeyed light, which was…

Actual honey.

The ceiling was studded with glowing beehives, thick, sinuous, coiling layers of brilliant golden honeycomb, tended by thousands of fist-sized honeybees.

“That’s… a lot of bees,” Jack stared at the ceiling.

“Anyone allergic?” Rory chuckled.

“Not anymore, I don’t think,” Layla grinned.

“Really?” Erin shot a glance at her.

“Yeah, epi-pen and everything,” she smiled. “Haven’t had so much as an itchy nose since we got here, though.”

“Ahem.”

The sudden reality of where, when, and who abruptly crashed down on them.

“My apologies, your majesties. It’s been a terribly long day,” Rory gave a genteel bow at the waist.

“Not at all,” the Summer King responded cheerfully. “We assume you must have many questions. Perhaps you’d care to adjourn for…”

He paused to look up and to the side.

“... mmm… dinner, apparently. And of course tea,” he smiled brilliantly. “Naelys, would you inform the kitchen we will be attended by five guests for the evening meal? Have them lay out some local favorites, and bring up several bottles of wine and mead, as well as something stronger, perhaps an Ulvrlynd brandy for our dwarven guest.”

An elf that had been standing silently by the only exit to the chamber bowed sharply and departed.

While the Summer King talked, the Winter King turned and went to each of the Sunsworn and Frostguard, gripping their forearms or laying a hand on their shoulder. To each, he whispered some comment or praise, and one by one, the elite soldiers filtered out of the great room.

“You care about your soldiers,” Jack commented to him.

“A kingdom ruled by a heartless master is doomed on the day of its birth,” he replied, his silver eyes hard in the golden light.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Jack returned.

The Summer King swept across the room and placed his arm into the taller elf’s, then gestured at the door.

“I’m sure you all have many questions. We will do our best to answer as we can over dinner. Surely you must be famished?” he said.

“Starving,” Layla skipped toward the door.

Rory and Erin shared a glance, then smiled and followed the succubus.

The Lord of Thicket and Rain planted a quick kiss on his husband’s cheek, then followed the three Chosen, his voice slowly trailing off as he ushered them toward the intimate dining room that would be in use that night.

Maggie and Jack exchanged pointed looks.

“Why?” Jack turned to the Lord of Air and Darkness.

“Because you can do that which no other can,” he replied.

“So you do want something from us,” his eyes narrowed.

“You are the Chosen of the Serpent, nestling. Everyone wants something from you,” he shrugged.

“What do you want from us?” he pushed.

“For you to kill that which cannot die,” the silver-haired elf replied bitterly, then stalked out of the chamber.

“Whatcha think tha’ were all ‘bout?” Maggie drew close to the nightbringer.

“Nothing good, I’m sure,” he grimaced, then took her arm and followed the elf.

When they arrived in the Hall of Raeliyn, the Summer King was in the process of explaining the name of the room to Rory, who was listening attentively.

“The raeliyn is a flower that blooms in Thaundouil, the ancient elven homelands. It was tradition to give the flower to those for whom you wished to deepen a relationship,” he gestured to the colorful inlays on the walls.

Nearly all featured a gorgeously enameled white and purple flower that resembled a marigold.

“So, we’re here to ‘deepen our relationship’, is that it?” Layla smiled blithely.

“Just so,” the Summer King laughed.

“They want us to kill some monster that can’t be killed,” Jack announced.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Rory grunted.

“You’re being a little rude, Jackson,” Erin walked over to him.

“Mmm, I’m gonna side with Tex on this one. I’d like to click here for more information about the unkillable monster,” the succubus turned back to the golden-haired elf.

The Summer King shot the Winter King an exasperated face, but the taller elf simply gestured to a servant, who immediately poured out a syrupy thick drink into a low crystal glass. The silver-haired elf downed the entire contents in one shot and grimaced, then motioned for the valet to repeat his task.

The long-suffering Seelie lord simply sighed and sat down next to his husband, snatching away the glass and draining the contents.

A frisson of disgust wriggled through the noble elf as the viscous spirit passed his lips.

“I shall never understand how you seem to enjoy that rancid ooze,” he slid the glass back to the other.

“Yes, we are not wholly guileless in our efforts to liberate you from the White Beast,” he held up his hands in a helpless gesture.

“You shouldn’t say her name, or use any of her titles. She can sort of hear you,” Erin offered.

“Not within the great tree, she cannot” he smiled gently.

“Let the wicked bitch come here, where her flesh withers and her foul powers fail to seal her skin shut after every stroke of a blade. I will spread her ashes as fertilizer for Verdantes,” the Winter King growled.

“Wait… are you saying she can’t regenerate here?” Jack spoke up.

“Indeed. Her cursed flesh withers within the shadow of the great tree. It is an ancient enchantment, woven into the heartstrings of the world tree by our predecessors and one of the End of Heroes’ own companions, after she turned upon them,” the Summer King sighed.

“What happened to the companion?” Layla spoke up.

“He retreated into the crystal city they had crafted for themselves, built over one of the most powerful of the Nightfather’s seals,” he replied. “He was never seen again.”

“Where’s the crystal city,” Rory was practically salivating.

“In the midst of a cursed island, to the south of Ulvrlynd, if the legends are to be believed,” the Winter King scowled.

“Tell us about the unkillable beast,” Jack pressed.

“The ‘god of the forest’ is what our people call the creature. It is a beast of gold and greed, formed of the flaws of men and folk. If slain by mortal hands, it returns more powerful than before in the heart of its den,” the Summer King looked away from the Chosen.

“We have risked our lives, the lives of our people, and hundreds of thousands of gold in materials and components to bring you here, not only because you are the blessed Chosen of the Nightfather, but because you are the soul-eaters of the dark, and only you can slay the beast and consume its spirit, so that it shall never rise again,” his voice was uncharacteristically cold.

“Where is it?” Jack asked.

Two pairs of eyes, one silver and the other brightest emerald, looked up at the nightbringer at the same moment, taking in the savage smile and the hard eyes.

“To the East.”

The doors of the Raeliyn Hall opened and servants began to file in, laying dish after dish upon the long table in a dance of gustatory delight. The sharp, spiced scents of elven cuisine began to fill the air.

“Maybe… after dinner, Tex?” Layla poked him.

“Okay. Dinner first, unkillable forest gods later.”