Lilly's Story
> Dear Human, it is with great pleasure that I reveal to you this book’s third co-author. Yes, Lilly! As it turns out, her feelings for Nial compelled her to write down what she experienced during their time apart. Adorable, really.
Nial,
I’ve come to realize, it’s possible that I won’t see you again. Someone was killed today, and in quite a horrific way. I believe it’s Father Ori, but… there’s been some doubt about that.
When the monk was found dead (throat cut, in fact), the rest of them began quarreling in hushed tones. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I gathered that they had expected something… I don’t know… different to happen. When they returned, the monk named Benji, who seems to be our unofficial leader, said, “We have reason to believe this was not done by Father Ori.” Asuana just nodded. When Octavius asked why, Benji said, “When a morl kills one of our order, the rest of us… we know.” Then, from the way he looked at me, I realized he wasn’t ruling out the fact that one of us had done it.
I’ve decided to leave the letters I’ve written to you thus far, in hopes that you come across them. There’s no time for anything else. The monks won’t even wait long enough to bury their brother. They want to get to the shrine as quickly as possible. I can’t help but think that Father Ori wants us to speed up. It’s as if he’s prodding us along.
I hope I see you again.
Sincerely, Lilly
***
I had to stop reading. The terror that burned in every clipped sentence, every hastily scrawled word was too hot to take all at once. The next page was labeled “Day One”—the beginning of the story, written in a different, flowery script. It pulled me in.
**
Nial,
Day one of the “adventure” has not proven to be exciting in the least. The monks sing a strange chant all the time—while they walk, while they eat, while they ride—and it is dreadfully tiresome. It’s like the sound rattles the bones in my head and gives me the worst headache imaginable. And this is only the first day! The most interesting thing that happened was the argument between Professor Octavius and Asuana about how you managed to kill Sir Mau and Madam Bela without anyone noticing. Asuana argued that you couldn’t possibly have been stealthy enough. Professor Octavius thinks you did it through magic. I wanted to laugh in their faces.
Oh, you’ll be pleased to know (or maybe not; I don’t care) that Gwen Florence has turned her fickle affections onto Jonny and Professor Octavius—simultaneously! When one of them starts irritating her, she goes to the other—trying to play them against each other. Jonny doesn’t understand; but Professor Octavius is plenty confused and bothered. I think he’s in love with her now, in spite of everything. Gwen still drags Madam Du Vreil’s corpse around everywhere. She doesn’t sing, but that doesn’t deter her from anything else.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Wish you were here.
Sincerely, Lilly
***
Nial,
The monks won’t tell us how far away the shrine is. It’s a big secret. If the morls were to find out where it is, it could have disastrous effects on the war in the south, apparently. None of us have any intentions of going to the enemy when we get back, but that doesn’t seem to matter. We’ll probably have to wear blindfolds when we get close.
Just before I sat down to write, I thought I heard someone behind me. But when I looked, no one was there. This storm, these lifeless mountains—it makes for an eerie setting. The animals have fled or died because of the constant rain, and the wind never blows. It gives me chills.
Equally as Sincerely as Yesterday, Lilly
***
Nial,
The monks are worried because one of them had some kind of dream. He told us about it: a great tidal wave of water and people came crashing out of the South Sea, crashing over Drymar and flowing into the city in the desert. He dreamed of people, bedraggled and starving, taking refuge in those houses we found, eating mushrooms from the cellars and drinking water from those basins in the walls. He dreamed of a wall around the entire city, keeping a tidal wave of fire and shimmering morls out. It gave me the shivers because I’ve had the same dream. Several times since we found that city, actually.
The other monks immediately set about the task of analyzing the dream. They prayed about it and scribbled mathematical formulas in the mud. After a few hours, they decided that the dream boded ill. (I could have told them that.) They further decided that the dream indicates that the End Times have come, and that the Age of Darkness has fallen.
The monks then removed themselves to a more secluded location and began beating each other with their fists! I can only imagine what they’re doing to you.
Sincerely and Worriedly, Lilly
***
Nial,
Professor Octavius gave me the aptitude test for the Academy and said I scored in the “98th percentile,” meaning that I may have the latent ability to do all sorts of magical things I didn’t know about. He says that’s becoming more and more common with each generation. Each new, incoming class at the academy has more raw talent than the last. He tried to teach me a spell, though, and I couldn’t get it right. I still can’t. He won’t speak to me until I can figure it out. I can only imagine how his students feel. It’s a good thing he doesn’t have children. I can’t talk now. I have to practice. If I can do this spell, I can scry—and then I’ll be able to see things even when I’m not actually there. Watch your back: I might be watching you.
Sincerely, Lilly
***
Nial,
Someone is definitely following us. I found a footprint near our camp when I woke up. I swear it wasn’t there the night before. The footprint isn’t the only thing, though. One of the other monks had a dream. He doesn’t want to talk about it. But he keeps looking over his shoulder, back down the path. So do I.
I don’t suppose it’s you? Did you follow us from the monastery? If so, I wish you wouldn’t sneak around in the shadows. It’s terrifying to think that someone is watching me as I sleep. I can almost feel the searching hands in the night. It’s like he wants us to know he’s there, like he wants us to hurry. And honestly, it’s working. The monks say we’re going to travel more quickly now…
Paranoidly, Lilly
***
That was the last one. I had looped back around to the one I’d started with. I shoved the papers into the pocket of my robes and kicked the horse to a gallop. I pushed the horse faster, ignoring her protests. By my estimation, the pilgrims were still a day ahead of me, maybe more, though, if they had begun to speed up.