The gate is closed, shut forever

Ties with the others they sever

Never open, not now not never

Realm of the Forgotten, chaos whenever

Translation from Effylscript found on the Jurmheir Portal in Hyrfvar.

Kollyn woke with a start. Memories of unpleasant dreams faded and were replaced with the throbbing pounding of the worst headache he’d ever experienced. He blinked as he looked up, surprised by what he saw. A flat stone ceiling carved throughout with Effylscript, written in swirls and patterns that made no sense.

He pushed himself up and discovered he’d been lying in a bed. Mattress, blankets and all. The room was small, no wider than fifteen feet across, and held nothing but the bed and a torch on the wall that provided an unsteady light. All over the walls and floor, Kollyn noticed, the same weird patterns of Effylscript had been delicately carved.

He was about to kneel and inspect the writing when he came to his full senses. Where was Tirril?

He rushed to the door and, to his relief, managed to push it open without any resistance. It opened into a significantly larger room. Shelves filled with all kind of objects lined the walls all the way to the ceiling and a large table surrounded by chairs stood in its middle. The side opposite from where he had entered held a large, enforced gate in its centre and the two other sides showed doors aligned with the walls. Here as well the Effylscript covered nearly every inch of stone.

The door to his left opened, revealing a man he didn’t recognize. Instinctively, Kollyn reached for his sword only to discover both the blade and its sheath were missing. He looked around frantically but failed to see them lying about anywhere.

The man held up his hands defensively. “No need to worry.” His voice was a soothing one. “I mean you no harm.”

“Who are you?” Kollyn asked, feeling the headache residing. “Where is Tirril?”

“The woman? She’s safe,” the man answered and pointed to the third door. “She’s sleeping in...”

He cut off as Kollyn ran to the door and pulled it open, a sense of relief emerging as he saw Tirril, unharmed and resting.

“She needs to recuperate,” the man said just behind him and Kollyn jumped. He hadn’t sensed the man approaching. “She used up a lot of her strength, she’s yet to learn how to work past that. She has promise though.”

“What happened?” Kollyn asked confused. “Where are the Vren that were chasing us?”

The man gave a smirk. “Their souls have passed on thanks to you. Or, at least, they’ve been given another chance to find death. Who knows where they’ll end up these days...”

“The fall,” Kollyn murmured. “I should be dead.” The wounds he received on his chest from the first encounter were gone as well, he noticed.

The man motioned for Kollyn to follow back into the larger room and closed the door once they were out. They sat down in the chairs and only then Kollyn realized how tired he still was.

“Any human would have died,” he answered and then gave Kollyn a strange look. “You are human, yes?”

Kollyn gave a slow nod at the odd question.

The man smiled satisfied. “Well, the power you used to kill those Vren also prevented you from dying on impact. It drew a lot out of you though, which explains the fatigue you’re probably feeling right now.”

“How do you know all this?” Kollyn asked intrigued. “Who are you? Why do you live in Iodigar?”

He laughed. “I know it because I saw it. Drawing conclusions when given sufficient clues is surprisingly simple. As for who I am, you can call me Hrotvir. I lost count of how long I’ve been living here, counting days becomes a complicated task when there is no such thing as day and night. As to the reason why I live here, it’s a rather boring answer I’m afraid. I’m a scholar, and Iodigar is my subject of study.”

“The Effylscript,” Kollyn asked, pointing around the room, “that’s your work?”

Hrotvir nodded. “It keeps the Vren out. And any other unwelcome creatures for that matter. It was quite the undertaking to carve out this place and protect it, but it’s certainly proven its worth.”

“Those obelisks that attract the Vren, is that your work as well?”

“Far from it,” Hrotvir answered. “Those obelisks are almost as old as time itself. Whoever built them has been forgotten, gone for millennia. I suspect they’re the same who built the portal rings in Hyrfvar, but there’s no certainty of that.”

Kollyn let the information sink in. How much still was there he, or the Ligtyr for that matter, was not aware of? He felt insignificant in that moment, an overwhelming sense of nothingness flooding him for a heartbeat. Thousands of years of history had gone by and been forgotten, only the most durable of artefacts having survived the test of time.

“When will Tirril wake up?” Kollyn asked, trying to banish the thoughts.

Hrotvir shrugged. “That entirely depends on her. It might be hours yet or the very next second. Now tell me, Kollyn, what madness has taken hold of the two of you to venture into Iodigar?”

For a second, Kollyn considered hiding the truth and craft some elaborate lie to conceal their true goal. Then, however, he figured if anyone could help them find the cause of the Vren increase, it might be the man who’d lived in Iodigar for many a year.

He filled in Hrotvir on the goal of their mission, telling him only the most essential parts. He spoke not of his conversation with the power nor did he mention the acceptance he had felt at certain death. When finished, Hrotvir leaned back in his chair and was silent for a moment, a pensive look on his face.

“What do you know of Jurmheir, Kollyn?” he finally asked.

“The Realm of the Forgotten,” he answered. “I know only of its name, there are no texts or stories telling anything of the realm.”

Hrotvir leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and fingers crossed under his chin. “It is one of the four Realm of Existence. Fjoltheir, the realm you come from, is one of those four. In contrast to Fjoltheir though, Jurmheir is not a place you would want to live. Old gods and powers reside there, forgotten by the passing of time and bound to their world.

“They are immortal beings with minds corrupted by the millennia they endured. They wander Jurmheir, void of purpose and consumed by a longing for freedom and a hatred to those who trapped them there. If anyone or anything had the ability to prevent souls from passing on and make them lose their way, it would be one of those forgotten.”

Hrotvir spoke with a strange intensity, his eyes growing more vividly with every word spoken.

“I would have known of this sooner had I not stayed in here for so long,” he continued. “The Effylscript not only prevents the Vren from sensing me, but it also hides Iodigar to my senses. I only went out today acting on a hunch, which is a stroke of luck for the two of you, and was surprised to see this many Vren. I had no idea however this had been going on for longer.”

There was a moment of silence, allowing Kollyn to gather his thoughts. Ancient, forgotten gods, trapped in a realm where they were to wander for all eternity. Any other day, he’d be stunned by all the new knowledge he just discovered. Yet now he only found Hrotvir’s words to sound logical. He’d conversed with a power stuck in his head not hours ago, why wouldn’t there be realms containing gods.

Jurmheir... The power had mentioned it, he remembered now.

“So, you think one of those gods or powers has left Jurmheir and is here in Iodigar?” he asked, laughing inwardly at the thought of stating such a theory to Tolis.

“It’s the only logical explanation I can arrive at,” Hrotvir answered, “barring any other unknown influences that I’m not aware of. How they did it though is beyond me; they are supposed to be bound to Jurmheir.” His eyes flickered for a moment and the corner of his mouth curled, almost as if he was laughing at an inside joke.

“And do you think we would be able to somehow make this being leave Iodigar?”

“And go where?” Hrotvir laughed half-heartedly. “Back to Jurmheir? They’ll be set on Fjoltheir no doubt and none will be able to convince them to do otherwise, especially not a mere mortal human like you. Not even your Ligtyr would have the power to do so.”

“We won’t know until we try,” a voice sounded from the side and Kollyn turned to see Tirril standing in the doorway. Once again, she’d been perfectly still.

“You’re up!” Hrotvir said with a smile and beckoned her over. “Come and sit, I have meals ready for you two.”

He stood up and disappeared into what Kollyn thought was the kitchen and Tirril sat down at the other side of the table opposite him.

“I’ve been listening,” she said, her voice sounding tired, “but I only heard the last part and couldn’t wrap my head around it. What happened? Where are we? Who is that man?”

Kollyn did his best to be as precise as possible, recounting everything that happened since Tirril had gone unconscious. Hrotvir had joined them again halfway through the story with two bowls of steaming soup which they took gratefully. When he finished talking, Tirril sat back in her chair, soup bowl in hands. Her eyes trailed off for a minute as she, much like Kollyn had to do, processed his words.

“Haegen’s Curse,” she muttered finally, “How are we supposed to kill a god?”

“Not kill,” Kollyn corrected her. “Convince them to leave.”

She eyed him. “It doesn’t sound like he or she will be up for that from what you’ve told me. What do you think, Hrotvir?”

“I don’t think either will work to be honest.” He sighed heavily. “And I don’t think either of you fully understand what you are dealing with here. This is a god of Jurmheir we’re talking about, a being so ancient it predates anything you’d find on Fjoltheir, or perhaps even Hyrfvar depending on the god. This being, this... power of destruction and creation came into existence before the first mortal soul left Ysdigar, before men was born. Mortals like yourself simply lack the cognitive abilities to comprehend and encompass this.”

“Then what can we do?” Tirril asked, voice unsure.

Hrotvir smiled and looked at Kollyn. “It’s simple. We ask another god for help.”