Date: Sixteenth of May, year 810 Post Seminal War (810 PSW)

Job frowned in thought, “perhaps it would be best to visit The Valley but briefly now, and then move away before the Druids begin their rituals. The one I spoke to mentioned that I’d have better luck meeting her on the day of the Eclipse anyway.”

The Shaman nodded in agreement, “that seems the wisest course, if one wishes to avoid conflict.”

“That seems the most prudent approach to me as well. Dragon-blooded I may be, but I see no reason to court conflict with an entire Circle of Druids, much less an entire city.”

“Indeed. Well, I’ve no more pressing concerns this day. Shall we go?”

“Lead on good shaman.”

It took the remainder of the afternoon, the path the shaman led Job down winding its way out of a back gate and long a mountain trail. It ended atop a hillock at the end of a narrow valley. The hill was bare wild grass, save for a lightning-twisted Yew tree and a fair-sized cairn of natural mountain stones. There was no gave marker save the tree itself standing a short way from one end of the cairn.

“we usually burn or expose the bodies of our dead, but The Silent… The birds would not touch her flesh, and the fire would not crack her bones. So we made our wards against the fell spirits of the unquiet dead and dug her a grave. The Druids grew her a Yew tree, but it only stood for nine months before lightning struck. Like The Silent, it does not truly live and refuses to fully die.”

Job frowned in thought as he examined the hilltop, “she is a ghost then?”

“A spirit for sure. The Silent herself still serves as the last Gatekeeper for those who wish to tread the Grey Road. It is here that they come to stare into the stars and her the noise beyond their silence. None of them ever speak of what transpires on the night they spend here, and none ever come away the same.”

“Then we best be away before nightfall to leave this place free for the Druids to use.”

“And to avoid any other unquiet spirits that may linger about the bones of the dead.”

Job led the way back down the hill and towards the exit of the valley, “I have been in the presence of unquiet spirits only twice before and was fortunate indeed to have a Cleric of Bahamut alongside me both times. Without her…”

“I tremble at the fell fates that could have befallen you.”

“Possession isn’t a pleasant thought, death only mildly less so. That second time… well, I’ll not forget he cry of the banshees.”

The two continued back down the path sharing horror stories and gossip, the sort of words the flow between adventurers no matter where they roam.

. . . - - - . . .

Date: First of June, year 810 Post Seminal War (810 PSW)

Job spent his time waiting well, wandering the edges of the Valley on the days that the Druids would let him. It was indeed a place of some power and ritual, and a few cautions castings of Detect Magic showed seeps, puddles, and streams of ambient magic all across the Valley. They were not the roaring depths of the old ley lines, but they had a certain potency all of their own. They wore the barriers between planes thin, letting spirits linger where mortals might see them and casting an unnatural silence where they ran. The cairn of The Silent was awash in these arcane energies, a wellspring of seven minor streams that flowed down the hill and up into the sky.

Job stood at the foot of the cairn and waited for the eclipse to begin. He could feel the arcane energies about the place trembling as the event approached. The back of Job’s empty left eye socket itched fiercely, the mangled scar tissues within twitching uncontrollably. He and Lady SiDiabolo had been oddly uninterested in replacing it at the time, but the itching forcibly reminded Job that Black Cloak had promised to repair it. Perhaps this would be the day that that oversight would be remedied.

The line of temporary darkness swept across the valley as the eclipse began. It moved quickly, or at least appeared to do so, covering ground faster then a man could run. Job frowned, wondering how he was supposed to communicate with The Silent in a few fleeting moments.

The darkness reached its peak. Job looked up at where the sun should be and saw only a flaming red ring around a black void in the sky.

+ “A wonderous sight, is it not?” +

“The Silent, I presume?”

+ “The one and only to bear that name. I have been told why you seek me. I must ask if you know what it is that you are truly asking for.” +

“that my memories be whole, that my Hoard be complete, and that my mind is my own once more? I understand that well enough.”

+ “You will not be able to forget ever again. You will not be able to shy away from the painful or the embarrassing. You may not be sane in the end.” +

“I would be driven to madness anyway, a dragon with a damaged Hoard.”

+ “I believe that I begin to comprehend your predicament. A broken Hoard of Memories, and thus madness no matter which way you turn. The possibility of it now or the certainty of it later.” +

“Assuming that I’m sane in the first place.”

+ “That is always a problematic assumption.” +

Job turned about looking for the source of the telepathic voice.

+ “Up here.” +

He looked up into the crook of the lightning-struck Yew and saw The Silent perched there, a battle axe with a blade of blackened steel and a smile of moonlight resting on her back.

“You can roam freely?”

+ “Roam yes, act no.” +

“So you needed this place, this eclipse to…?

+ “Black Cloak, as you know him, needs it more than I. He needs places where the veil between realities is thin to affect the physical world. Dreamscapes are one such place, though they are fragile, temporary things, their reach limited. To heal your mind, restore your ‘lost’ memories, a few days of dreaming would suffice. To heal you eye is another matter entirely.” +

“How long will it take?”

+ “Look up at the sun, it moves not for the moment. We have this fragment of un-time in which to work. Feel is light seep into your socket, the magic pooling, material coalescing. There will be some pain as dreamscape becomes flesh-metal reality…” +

Job could feel something taking shape in his empty eye socket. It felt like a cold crystal sphere pressing back against the scars. He could feel a trickle of power flowing through it but saw nothing new. Job recalled Black Cloak’s earlier words about healing, and how it was not in his Domain. Uncertainty filled Job’s mind, as well as another possibility, nay certainty. He would need the aid of another, besides The Silent and Black Cloak, to make his new eye function properly. And Job knew where such aid might be found.

Without looking away from the un-sun, job dug into his back and brought out the slim case of the SiDiabolo Deck. He opened the case, drew a card blindly, and held it up between his working eye and the sun. The un-light of the stopped time backlit the image of a platinum dragon coiled about a set of balanced scales. Gilt lettering shouldered in his sight – XI Justice – and the card exploded into streams of golden energy.

Not-pain flooded Job’s senses. His empty eye socket filled with the sensation of light and heat, the shuddering sensation of fine brass scales sliding through his skin about the edge of the crystal sphere. The eye snapped open, and the red aurora about the un-sun flared into new depth, appearing to shudder as his mind grew used to seeing with two eyes once more. The un-sun flared to new heights of illumination as reality seem to snap sideways for the briefest of moments.

The golden energy continued to flow through and past Job, mixing with the Dragon inn his blood and the wellspring of power from the Silent’s Cairn, calling energies forth and binding them to flesh and blood and bone. New strength and speed suffused his body, new wit and charm crammed his mind to overflowing. Job lifted from the ground, carried on invisible winds, and still the power flowed. New spells suffused into Job’s consciousness – Eldritch Blast, Lightning Lure, Mage Hand, Message, Comprehend Languages, Draconic Rebuke, Sense Evil and Good, Unseen Servant, Knock, Mind spike, and Dispel Evil and Good.

Job felt reality thin just a fraction in his vicinity, as draconic eyes looked on and Judged his worth. There was a slight hissing in the air, though-speak between beings pressed close to the physical world in this fraction of time that had no space and space hat had no time.

Reality shuddered at the tough of the unreal. Sanity rebelled at the imposition of another’s will. The floodgates of Job’s mind were flung wide open, and all that he had forgotten poured down upon him in a monumental torrent of pure knowledge and understanding.

Job’s quarterstaff fell away from his pack, splintering into oblivion. A single splinter leapt back up and cut job across the face. The smell of blood and sting of pain focused all of Job’s attentions back onto what was happening to his flesh. He let out a roar to shake the sky.

Reality clicked back into motion. Job’s boots settled to the ice-cold grass atop the hill, the frostbitten blades shattering like fog in the morning sun. the moon began to move out from the sun, and Job’s eyes filled with it’s radiant light. His head dropped to his chest, eyes shut and weeping with the pain of staring into the heart of a star.

+ “You cannot Forget ever again.” +

“No, I cannot.”

+ “You were fortunate to survive Bahamaut’s Gaze. He may have plans for you in the future.” +

“Undoubtably. But I have plans and promises of my own to fulfill.”