“Well that's certainly…enthusiastic.”
An enormous map dominated the entire center of Tenebri's Library within the Blackstone’s family holdings. Tiny pins, each with their own color coded twine interconnected and covered the surface to the point of obscuring it. Blackstone had become all too familiar with it over the last few days as he'd poured over his deceased relatives’ notes and journals.
“It looks like a spider went mad and declared war on its own web.”, Blackstone agreed in a tired voice, “My Lord this is Gawin, he was my grandfather's assistant for the last twenty years.”
A stout old man with curly hair gave a formal bow as he approached the group that had finally arrived to hear Blackstone's initial findings. He deposited an ornate scroll-bag upon the table and extracted the contents before fastening them to a stand they had drug in for the occasion.
“I took the liberty of making a key, the old koot never forgot anything but we mortals need the crutch.”, Gawin mumbled with a sad expression before he continued.
“I don't have to tell any of you that Tenebri believed there was no real beginnings of history. He was convinced that the higher a civilization advances the farther it falls when everything comes undone.”
Angnar made an approving noise as he carefully studied the legend that Gawin had provided with immaculate penmanship. All the colors of twine and types of pins were neatly labeled alongside the key along with a few types of interwoven thread designs and their meanings. It became obvious immediately that the map tracked the migrations of both people and mythology.
“When Tenebri was a babe these ruins in Telluran,” Gawin indicated to a thick hub of twine attached to a central pin, “were uncovered by the then newly formed Explorers Guild. They contained the first library of magical texts ever found from the Old Kingdoms. Thankfully a simple translation spell corrected the linguistic drift.”
Blackstone yawned and laid his head on the table behind the delegation as Gawin shifted into a lecture that they had spent days preparing. The portly man retrieved a thin wooden rod from the scroll bag and began to use it to indicate around the map as he spoke.
“It was quite a feather in their cap for the new Guild at the time. Beyond the texts themselves, there was also a wealth of minor artifacts. In fact, the design of the common magelight is based upon those found within the site.”
“What texts were recovered?”, Blackstone prompted sleepily as he detected a tangent coming from Gawin.
“Ah, yes. The texts were mostly works of fiction and myth, and they were immensely popular during Tenebri’s childhood. Some were even complete and direct records of fragmented stories that form the basis of much folklore in the area. What garnered them so much fame was that they mentioned in great detail distant lands and locations which were only then being slowly expanded into by the growing kingdoms of the time. So accurately in fact that they were used to locate further…”
Angnar seemed unusually focused and paid rapt attention as Gawin spoke. A shrewd look grew in his eyes as he traced the lines of threads from hub to hub, his gaze following one section at a time from start to finish before selecting another. Abruptly he stood and walked around the table to stand to the left of Gawin and his delegation. He stood closest to the southern sea and gazed northward relative to the intricate map, glancing over the table to look at the younger Blackstone.
“Yes, yes. The Automata Wars. We all know that part of this story. Some fool adventurers clever enough to realize a children's rhyme was a musical cipher that unlocked a door but stupid enough to open it alone. The Farrim Empire is still putting them down to this day.”
Gawin nodded as King Angnar continued to inspect the map, following paths with his fingers. He carefully placed both hands on the table and motioned for more light and a retainer promptly conjured a luminescent orb to hover above the entire map like a miniature sun. Angnar nodded absently in thanks as he frowned at the northernmost part of the map which was curiously sparse of any markers.
“Yes, M’Lord. Which only further serves to reinforce Tenebri’s hypothesis of cyclical cataclysm and return to civilization.”
“Which means what exactly?”, Angnar replied in a disinterested voice as he continued to stare daggers at the top of the map. His attention focused on a series of titanic lakes scattered about below the mountains.
“Are you familiar with the story of The Laughing Lion?”
There was a titter of laughter in the room from several of the men at that. Even Angnar joined in with sudden amusement at Gawin's question. Blackstone smiled grimly, though he knew what Gawin was about to do. An elderly duke smiled hugely and began to recite some of the story aloud in an overly serious and gravelly voice clearly practiced for his many grandchildren.
“Hah! The Lion laughed at the Serpent. For the Lion had never learned to fear, and so the Serpent's gaze could not harm him. The Serpent calmed as it watched the Lion, who did not bite, did not claw, did not roar in fury. As night fell the Serpent began to speak…”
Even Gawin had to smile at the animated recitation. He chuckled to himself as he indicated to another table in the library that groaned under the weight of dozens of thick tomes gray with age.
“Would it interest you to know that the people of Acturum, in the middle of the Gaian Ocean on the other side of the world, tell nearly the exact same story? Almost word for word?”
The laughing stopped abruptly as confusion set in. Blackstone allowed himself a tiny smile as Gawin flipped the wooden stand around to reveal hundreds of abbreviated names all helpfully color coded and categorized similarly to the map they all stared at. Even in shorthand it was easy to recognize the names of many of the fables and stories they had all grown up hearing.
“The Laughing Lion, Fox and Stag, The First Harvest, Serpent's Garden, The Fountain of Night…and hundreds of others are all told in nearly the same manner everywhere in the world. Adjusted for cultural storytelling norms, they are almost identical.”, Gawin stated simply as he pointed to each in order.
“You're telling me there are men in the Endless Desert sitting around retelling Fox and Stag around the fire at night?”, scoffed a man with a bushy mustache.
“Jackal was a clever thing, quick of foot and learned in the arts of magic. He craved secrets above all else, and hoarded them like the desert holds grains of sand. Heron knew this, and as the great oasis began to foul and die she flew out over the burning sand in search of him.”, Gawin rattled off undisturbed as he stared straight into the man's eyes.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Everyone fell silent at that, recognizing the story immediately despite the odd names of the creatures. They muttered amongst themselves, with a few notably silent as they slowly read the list of names. Blackstone could see the gears turning in their heads as they puzzled it out. King Angnar visibly became disturbed as he considered the implications before speaking.
“Can you prove these claims? I don't doubt Tenebri’s word, but I would see with my own eyes. If what you and Blackstone say is true…then that foul creature was correct. I don't like that.”, Angnar gestured at the map and continued, “The darkening of the color indicates the directions the stories spread?”
“Yes M’Lord, Tenebri was very careful to record his research. He was much more meticulous in his hobbies than his peacetime duties.”
Gawin directed their attention to several shelves of books behind them. Blackstone lifted the journal in front of him they had selected earlier and passed it to Gawin who in turn passed it to Angnar. The King opened it and skimmed quickly, taking longer to examine the tables and charts carefully as everyone stood in silence. He mumbled aloud in surprise from time to time as he read.
“Thirty-seven instances of repetition, one hundred seventy-six points of congruence. One hundred percent match to projected linguistic drift over a time period of…”
Blackstone simply waited for him to come to the same realization that he had only a short while ago as he and Gawin had poured over Tenebri's life's work together with a fresh eye. Even Tenebri himself could have never anticipated what his death had all but proved, still believing until the day of his death that the tales were more legend than truth.
Angnar set the book on the table before him with an almost angry, troubled look. He walked quickly to the shelf of books and selected one at random, quickly referencing the stories it covered.
“One hundred Eleven instances of repetition, three hundred forty-eight points of congruence, eighty-five percent match to…”
He replaced it and drew another, skimming more quickly before simply dropping it and grabbing another. Gawin winced as the book landed on its spine and lay open upon the floor at the King's feet. Another soon followed, to be joined by two more shortly after. Angnar replaced the final journal before stepping back to look at the six other shelves full of identical slim volumes with growing disconcert in his eyes.
“Blackstone”, the king spoke quietly in the silent room as he turned to face him, “Are you telling me that these stories…actually occurred?”
“Their real names and deeds are lost to time, but yes. They're quite real. It was the Warlocks story of Anban that helped us prove it. He claimed to have razed Anban himself, and after a few days of reading and with Gawins help we finally saw it.”
Blackstone stood and approached the map in the center of the room and Angnar hurried to follow, standing almost uncomfortably close to Blackstone. The King watched carefully as he directed his attention to an archipelago in the east.
“We know it as Anbarran. Look at the outward migration compared to everything else. Really look, it's obvious if you can stomach accepting the Warlock’s word as true.”
Angnar almost snarled as he finally saw it, his eyes jumping between the Anbarran kingdom and that of his own and the larger empires further south.
There was almost no outward migration of stories or people's from the Anbarran archipelago. It was glaring if you were specifically looking for it but easily missed amongst the tangle of brightly colored string that hung above most of the map. Whatever had sparked the spread of tales and people to the south had simply driven the ancient Anbarran people into the sea, the only spread of culture being to scattered islands that were likely too small to bother with exterminating.
“Blackstone. What do the tales say of the Warlock? Which of the figures is he? The Serpent? The Devourer?”, Angnar grasped Blackstone by the shoulder and gently turned him to meet his gaze.
Blackstone sighed heavily then met his gaze with sincerity, “There's nothing. The closest thing we have is in stories of the Laughing Lion from northern Farrim. Not many people live there since it's impossible to guarantee their safety from the Automata.”
He indicated the location on the map with two fingers as Angnar followed along. It was far to the north, almost passed the bounds of civilization proper and bordering one of the massive lakes that scattered the landscape.
Angnar stiffened as something finally seemed to ratchet into place in his mind and he stepped away, circling the table to stand at the northern end and looked southwards down the diorama before him. His face grew grim as his thoughts visibly raced and Blackstone mirrored his expression. Gawin hurried to the Kings side with interest as the red bearded man skewered him with a look.
“Something has troubled me since I grasped the function of this map. According to this, the whole of the land of Atemu fled south. There is little water, and less food once you progress past the plains. Why? There has never been an empire or kingdom to the far north. None of these”, the king plucked a thread gently and nodded to the spot Blackstone described, “run to the north.”
“Ah, Tenebri also thought of this. He attributes it to the season in which the events occured. If the winter was harsh, it would have made travel northwards impossible for many.”
“No, Gawin. You saw that creature in battle. If the people of that age were capable of producing such monsters as the Warlock, and creations such as the Automata themselves, they would not have been troubled by snow and cold. Perhaps small groups would struggle, but even now seven in ten have some magical ability and those who do not generally possess Talent of some kind.”
Angnar motioned for a few of the men in his retinue to join them at the head of the table as he furrowed his brow in thought. Blackstone was silently curious as he watched the King with a growing admiration for his newfound willingness to simply accept unfavorable news. His behavior now far-cry from the arrogant man he had become accustomed to serving after the events of the last few weeks.
“Wess, Duren. Assume these lakes do not exist and the topography is relatively the same as the surrounding areas. We are assaulted from the south, and I have commanded you to construct defensive fortifications. Where would you build them?”, the King barked at his two oldest friends and most accomplished generals.
The men examined the map and then paled almost instantly. Blackstone himself stiffened in shock as he realized what the King was alluding to.
The lakes were spread out in a very rough semicircle, encompassing hundreds of miles of land but nestled squarely in the opening of valleys, between mountain ranges, and near points of other tactical importance. Gawin gasped in shock as he too finally realized why no records existed of the kingdom to the north.
They weren’t lakes. They were craters.
“Blackstone. How do the stories of the Lion differ in the north?”, the king asked with a forced calm.
“...and the serpent spoke: Follow the star of Rìn for three days and four nights. As the sun rises on the fourth day, climb the Mountain and speak with the Keepers. Stand before the final gate and face the Emerald Flame. Should you be found worthy, behold the Oracle Tree and pluck the seed of your fate.”, Gawin blurted before Blackstone could even open his mouth.
The room was silent as a tomb as Blackstone failed to tear his gaze away from the massive lakes, each miles across. His stomach twisted weirdly and his palms began to sweat as he and the rest of the men in the room slowly realized the scope of the situation.
“Blackstone, gather whatever you deem necessary by dawn tomorrow. You are welcome to my personal sword and armor, for all I am concerned. I will send word to my brothers in their kingdoms to the east.”, Angnar’s grim expression never faltered as he addressed Blackstone, “Take Gawin, his knowledge may be required. My brothers will send their Champions as well, I swear it.”
“You're going north.”