Prelude: A Letter of Warning

Gani,

I wish I were writing to you under better circumstances, but the spirits tell me The Betrayer’s army is on the move, and I am unsure as to when he will be at my door. For the past millennia, you have been my closest friend and advisor. Let me begin this eulogy by saying, I wouldn’t trade the daylight if it meant having to bid you farewell. Unfortunately, this letter is not meant to bear peace or ease of mind with passing, so let this letter serve as a reminder and as a warning of what’s to come. I need to pass on as much information as I can to you, in the hope that The Sages’ teachings—our teachings—may survive. He is on the move, and I fear for The Ancients’ Children more and more with each passing moment. He. Will. Not. Stop.

My time is running out; I finally feel my immortality fading, and… I’m surprised. I find that it comforts me. Though I can no longer sense the essence of the Highland’s Magick, and though my bonds and ties with the others have been severed. I am at peace, I look into the mirror, and I can see myself fading away.

I suppose time isn’t too kind to those who cheat it.

There is no place for The Blessed in this realm anymore. My friends, my family—the other Sages—have passed on before their wisdom could be shared. Had they just listened to me and not chosen to pick up arms, maybe just maybe… I guess that is the one benefit I have had to my life of seclusion, much to my dear Kaami’s dissent. I have only been able to survive this long because I have remained hidden, like a coward. Alas, my thoughts escape me, and I tend to drone on.

The forest is quiet. They are here.

I have been in contact with The Ancients who will be sealing their home away from the prying eyes of The Betrayer, and they have entrusted me with a Crystal Seed, something they say can store a part of my soul. Although my body will fade, my soul and spirit will continue to live. Marisch will only be able to kill this—now mortal—shell, and I anxiously await the day he looks upon my new face and sees my spirit within.

Which leads me to the importance and necessity of this letter. I am entrusting you with a vital mission. You, my dear friend, are to find me a new vessel, a shell. I know you will have some quarrels with this dabbling of dark and dangerous magic, as will Kaami. Sadly, I can think of no alternative; I have yet to understand how the World Grove sows its seeds. I know The Betrayer’s weakness; I know what strikes fear into his cold pit of a heart. Like the rest of us, his immortality is fading too, although to a much lesser and slower degree. All because of his damnable Black Magic, devouring and consuming the lifeforce of whom we used to call friends. This will be his undoing, and although I am uncertain when his time will end, be prepared. It is happening, and when it starts taking its toll on his sanity, he will march upon the world, finding what he needs to return to the Highland and settle the score.

It's ironic that a man who treated life and death as tools—a person who claimed to have unlocked all the secrets the world has to offer—fears the simplest and most natural of all of life’s gifts. He wasn’t always like this, though. I remember a time he once would have welcomed the embrace of death like the sailor would embrace his wife after being lost at sea.

Enclosed in this letter is the core of my being, the seed. The Grove will keep me until you find the right person, and when you do, please watch over them. This token may be small, but it holds immense power. I’m sorry, brother. I know it sounds like I am dooming you to a life wandering this world alone until then but do not fret. I assure you I will always be with you in spirit. The cold death of iron boots on the forest floor ring like funeral bells; I do not think I have enough time to write a letter to Kaami. They are coming to claim me. I must make the rest of this letter brief. Find Kaami. Show her this letter. She will join you, and I will need you to stay with her. Protect each other. You will not bear this burden—this gift—alone. You both are of the Children, the Fae, so the Grove will always return you. As time passes, you both may wear different faces, yet she will always be my Kaami, and you will always be my closest friend, my brother, and we will always find each other.

I implore you, As’an Diel, comfort her. Assure her that everything will be fine. If she argues, which she will—the stubborn flower—help her see reason. Let her know that no matter what happens, I will see her again, though I am unsure how long it may take. It could be decades, centuries, or even eons. I am a terrible judge of time—she was always getting on to me about that. I hear the spirits of these woods scream with the sound of thunder and death. Marisch is here to claim me. I will see you both again. Farewell, both of you. Go in peace and live so the Grove can bring you both back to me.

Aiysara M’na Durin

The 8th Day of the Harvest Month