《The Cursewright's Vow》Chapter 18: The Doyenne's Counsel, Part 6
Advertisement
Nythelian was a harsh language, but it could be turned to beautiful music. A good language for epic tales and mourning ballads and songs of war; a poor one for love or wooing. Barthim appreciated it at once without speaking a word of it.
Vos's voice was a surprisingly lovely tenor, and Carala's playing brought an ethereal beauty to that long-empty room that stirred some unknown longing in each of them. Ammas, who remembered what Autumnsgrove had been like when it was alive and bustling with students and scholars, found himself fighting tears, imagining those wondrous notes echoing through empty cells and libraries and halls that had been enveloped in dust.
Of Vos's companions, only Ammas was fluent in Nythelian, but Carala had seen enough (and sang enough) Nythelian opera to have picked up a little of it. Again and again the song Vos sang returned to the lyric And the white moon gazed down upon all. "Gazed" was sometimes "smiled," sometimes "glowered," sometimes "raged," but whatever the song described was clearly happening at Saya's behest.
"It's not a cradle-song you know," Othma said drily when Vos had finished. "But I suppose there must be a hundred versions of that tale. And your playing is better than I expected, your highness, though pretty things are often the most poisonous. Vos of Nythel, spare an old woman's dry throat and tell us the tale of the bride and the Moon."
Still flushed, not at all used to being the center of attention like this, Vos nonetheless agreed with a nod. "It is the story of a Nythelian farmer named Hath and his young wife, Terille. They were young and prosperous and happy, but their farm was not far from the coast, and so they lived under the threat of the Sons of the Moon, who often stole men and murdered their women, carrying the men back to their island in the Azure Sea to turn them into wolf-warriors like themselves. One night, when Terille was tending to her sick mother, their farm was attacked and Hath was taken. Terille mourned, but she was friends with a blacksmith's apprentice, Athera, and Athera was determined her friend should not lose her husband."
"They're a little more than friends in the version you just sang," Ammas remarked with a smirk.
"Well, perhaps," Vos grinned. "As the good Doyenne said, it's not a cradle-song. Whatever she was to Terille, Athera forged her a blade dusted with silver, and together they sailed from Nythel to the Azure Sea to rescue Hath before the Sons of the Moon could turn him. They had many adventures. There are versions of that song that go on for hours; there is a whole opera based on it, in fact. But in the end they came to the island in the Azure Sea and waged a war on the Sons of the Moon. Athera killed their chieftain, but was badly injured herself. Before she died she brought his heart to Terille. When Terille found Hath, he was already in the shape of a wolf. She begged him to remember her, and offered the chieftain's heart instead of her own. Hath devoured the chieftain's heart, and the wolf left him, letting him be a man again. Terille and Hath returned to Nythel -- the return trip was not so adventurous -- and lived happily to the end of their days, naming their firstborn daughter after Athera, building a shrine to her with the silver-dusted sword."
Advertisement
"Well-told," Othma said with a smile. "Sit again, Vos of Nythel. I shall not place you in the middle of the stage again." Gently she took the harp from Carala, idly running her fingers along the strings, raising a series of eerie tones. "As with most legends, there is a pearl of truth nestled in this one's heart. When the fellowship of cursewrights destroyed the Sons of the Moon, they laid bare all of their secrets, and they did so at the request of a Nythelian woman who had lost her husband. The song, of course, leaves out that the cursewrights had been arguing with the Malachite Throne for years to do something about the Sons. The cursewrights took it on themselves to handle the affair when the Sons stole away almost an entire village of men and boys, raping and murdering dozens of their women. And their children, too -- your father isn't the only merciless beast in our history, your highness. Among those secrets was how one might undo the ritual that was at the center of the Sons' existence -- the very ritual that created whatever wolf infected you, your highness."
"Then it is preserved somewhere," Ammas said. "Here? Do you have notes, a journal, anything?" An eager gleam was in his eye, and it could not be clearer that he believed they were on the very edge of curing Carala. She felt it too: the anger had fled her face to be replaced with hope.
"It is simplicity," Othma said, turning her good eye to Ammas. There was a regret there that dashed Ammas's optimism. "Any of the established remedies will work. But a certain ingredient must be incorporated, a unique ingredient. To whatever potion or ritual you perform to rid Carala of the wolf, you must add a tincture prepared with the essence of the heart of whatever unfortunate human was altered by the ritual in the first place. Every version of this old song is correct in this single detail: she must devour the heart of whatever creature is responsible for her condition."
"Not the one who bit me?" Carala asked in a whisper. She imagined Tacen's body must have been burnt to ashes by now, or dumped into the River Seith. The prospect of drinking a potion that contained a werewolf's heart was far less frightening to her than the idea they might never find the correct heart at all.
"No," Othma shook her head. "Whoever infected you is too far removed from the ritual. I can see that in your blood. Only the subject of the ritual himself will do. I take it," she turned back to Ammas, "you have some information as to where this person might be found?"
Advertisement
"Gallowsport," Ammas replied softly. "Everything we have learned points there."
"Then you must go to Gallowsport, if you hope to cure this woman. You must find the original wolf born when this awful rite was stolen from our archives, and you must kill it, and you must harvest its heart. There is a recipe for the tincture I will furnish you; it is not difficult. Depending on how many have been infected, you may be able to cure more than just Carala. But likely not all. No, not all. Whoever would be fool enough to unleash this evil on the world would not be wise enough to keep their numbers limited."
A little silence, punctuated by Othma's idle strumming on the harp, fell among them as they absorbed this. Carala felt her hope diminished, but not destroyed. She had already traveled from Talinara to Munazyr and found a cursewright, and now had come to Autumnsgrove to find another. Surely she could survive one last journey, especially with these men helping her; with Ammas sworn to her service.
Barthim was the one to break that thoughtful quiet, Othma's music coming to an abrupt, jangling halt. "It is a quest we are on, then! Just like Terille and Athera in Vos Goldentongue's song. A quest that is worthy of the Hethmar. I am honored, good Ammas, good Doyenne."
"A quest," Othma sneered, her voice dripping with more contempt than she had demonstrated even for Carala. "Worthy of the Hethmar. Tell me, Barthim of Siranesh, did you know there is a Hethraeum in Vilais? A very beautiful one, all white marble and polished stone. The statue of Il-Hethma the First Knight wrestling the fallen angel is among the finest in the world."
"I am knowing of this place," Barthim said uneasily. "I have not seen it myself."
"Then you know your faith is a popular one here in the Reaches. Thousands of noble Blades of the Hethmar, eager to prove their valor. Barthim of Siranesh, you were only a boy, I am sure, but do you know where these valorous men were when my grandson was burned alive? When the Emperor's cohorts descended on this place? When innocent men and women were butchered for the crime of belonging to fellowships that are far, far older than the family that holds the Malachite Throne now?"
The Doyenne's voice was climbing into tones of clear, carrying fury, and Barthim quailed before it, which was something Ammas had never seen. Casimir looked terrified.
"They were nowhere. They stayed in Vilais, in Munazyr, in Talinara. They drank in their marble pits, they laughed and joked with all the other pious priests and priestesses, they stood aside while the greatest places of learning the world has ever known were set aflame. They no more raised a finger to stem the rivers of blood that flowed at the Emperor's command than did the moneychangers of Tol Daether. At least the moneychangers are honest about what they do, Barthim of Siranesh. At least no one expected them to help. A cursewright or an astrologer who looked to your Blades for help only made it easier to have his eyes put out."
"But -- Doyenne Sulivar -- I am not -- "
"Do not speak to me of your valor. Do not speak to me of the will of the gods. They are less true than the cowardice that runs through every one of the Ninefold faiths, even yours." Othma Sulivar's good eye blazed with a seemingly illimitable rage. "Nothing, they did nothing, not when my Nelahn burned, not when the Maathinhold itself was destroyed, not when Senrich Mourthia -- "
"That's enough," Ammas said angrily, rising from his seat.
Advertisement
Drunk Dungeon
Robert was dead. They just died. Nothing happened that was worth talking about it, especially when considering what their new life was about. Reincarnated as a Dungeon Core, a creation of the system to administer challenges and help mortals and Gods alike grow. But while Robert is perfectly content to live their life creating monsters, making treasure, and getting comfortable in their hole. Fate has other plans. Few places are as valuable as a Dungeon, and fewer still have the resources necessary to make them into pits of unending soldiers. Image is not owned by me. Contact me if you are the artist in question. And want me to take it down.
8 203Empire at War
From the ashes of strife heroes will rise to glory and immortality. The Eternal Empire of Zenter is torn in a civil war in the wake of the Mad Emperor Eugeios Ohm Zenter's bid to engrave his name in history by unifying the entire continent of Yggdra under human rule. This results in a civil war between those who oppose the extermination of the peaceful mythical races inhabiting Yggdra, and those loyal to the empire. The Mad Emperor's death from a sickness he kept hidden all his life years later, with his endeavor unfinished, sets the stage for an era of chaos. Ambitions awaken not only within court officials and local feudal lords, but also in common soldiers, who see the opportunity to rise to power and glory. Lahya Eventyr, one of two only surviving members of the royal family of the Ljosalfar, the Light Elves, resurfaces after years of slavery, and sets out to find her younger brother. Her actions set destiny in motion and will shape the fate of the entire empire.
8 78The Emperor's Hound
Alyn is a page serving in Fourth Star Court, going to lessons with the others in her year and learning what is required of a noble in the Nine Star Courts. One day, to her surprise, she is summoned to attend her assigned patron, Lord Miervaldis, on a mission from the Sun Emperor himself; to investigate a murder in Fifth Star Court. A scribe has been killed, and the only suspect is the lord he served, one Lord Cassian. Upon arrival at Fifth Star Court, Miervaldis commences his investigations and Alyn works hard in following up the leads available; the bullying Lord Cassian himself, his disgruntled heir, and the son of the man Cassian killed in a duel, among others. In the midst of the tangle of suspects and their motives, it becomes apparent to Alyn that there is far more going on behind the scenes. Lord Miervaldis has secrets of his own; he may not be the harmless eccentric she thought at first. Where should her loyalties lie? How exactly is the Sun Emperor involved? What is really going on? Alyn will find her loyalty tested to the limit as Miervaldis' investigation turns up more trouble than he bargained for.
8 195JoJos' Bizarre Adventure: Golden Road
Axel Collins, an eighteen-year-old delinquent, was left with a mysterious mask and black box from his deceased grandfather. This will lead him and his friends Tat, Roo, and Savant, on a road trip through California to find out his grandfathers secret life. My twitter account The Artists Instagram
8 80The Undying Magician
How would a true immortal with average talent in magic fare within a world where magic is everything? In the world of Aria, only a small fraction of the population are classified as magicians.These magicians are able to use magic through the manipulation of the mana they are born with and are the core of the military strength within every nation.However, one nation in particular uses magicians to an even higher extreme than the others.This nation is known as The Republic of Arcania.The largest power in Aria. Our story follows Nathan Fox as he graduates from high school and is sent to the Arcane Academy for his required military training as a magician before he eventually serves his ten year term in the military.Nathan has been a true immortal ever since he got a semi-magical disease that makes any damage done to his body instantly reverse itself, bringing him back to his top form on the day that he became an immortal. Ever since then, it has been impossible for Nathan to die.But there are worse things in the world than death.And if the power-hungry magicians of the world were to learn of Nathan's true immortality?Then he might just experience those things himself. What will happen to Nathan as he traverses life in the academy?Will his secret be found out?Or will he be able to safely make it through the four years of academy life with his secret intact? That has yet to be foretold. The beginning of the story starts out slow for what many Royal Road readers are used to and then speeds up after around chapter 20 or so. It is a school arc, so it is supposed to be slow. Most of the combat and action isn't seen until after these chapters, which you can view as an introduction to the world, the characters, and magic itself. Many of the reviews are outdated due to edits I've been making along the way through the story. Specifically some of the edits going over the world itself, including pointing out in the story some of the things a few of the reviewers missed when they wrote their reviews, along with fixing other things that were pointed out in the story from the reviews and comments. This book is also being edited as it's being written, so some small parts might change as I get suggestions from readers. I do not write harem or sexual content in my stories. Ever. My Discord Server Top Web Novel Link
8 732Ascending Trinity
Step by Step of moving forward, what will he reach at the end?
8 88