Ezo,

The truth must always be protected. Those with power must be held accountable for its use and abuse. Some secrets are worth keeping, and some need to see the light of day. We - the Truthkeepers - must follow the path of righteousness without pride or greed, but for the betterment of all.

Jacob

Ezo stared at the words written on the first page. There was so much he wanted his uncle to explain, but he already knew that whatever purpose Jacob had behind these books, his personal questions wouldn’t be answered.

Ezo had been too young when Jacob died to ask the right questions. Now, he could only hope to piece it all together with what little he could glean from his writing.

As he turned to the first page, the story recounted Jacob’s travels as a young man, leaving Fairhills behind him.

Remec came into the room at some point, setting a mug of tea at Ezo’s elbow before moving on. He entered and left, but never disturbed Ezo. Kammon was there as well, but he didn’t join Ezo at his table. Once the fires were started and he’d disappeared to help with the horses, he’d run his fingers reverently over the books, until he found a section that seemed to hold his interest. He pulled one from the shelves, dropped to the floor, and started reading right there.

Mountainkeep was quiet except for the crackle of the fires and the turning of the page.

Ezo began skipping over some of Jacob’s entries, looking for something that would be relevant to his situation or their current location. It seemed to be more of a journal of his travels and gave bits and pieces of knowledge he attained as he went - from how to bargain with traders to inns and taverns that should be avoided. He was tempted to flip to the back page to see if Jacob mentioned the location of his other journals, but Remec tapped him on the shoulder before he did.

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“You might want to see this,” he said.

Remec’s voice was quiet, but in the silence of the room, Kammon heard and he joined them. “You two went straight to reading, but I decided to look around a bit. While I was traveling, Jacob always asked me to bring any old books I might find back to him. I thought I might find a few here, so I started searching for them.”

“Was there something that you think pertains to us?” Kammon asked.

“Not really. I was just curious if this is what I was collecting for. But I found something else entirely.” Remec led Ezo and Kammon back toward the front of the room. Behind a long table, Remec pointed to a series of books. There were a half dozen leather journals with no writing on the spine. The wall was lined with personal journals, changing style every dozen or so. Ezo picked up the first book and Kammon took the first of the next style.

“The original builder of Mountainkeep,” Ezo said.

“And his successor.” Kammon’s voice was quiet. Ezo knew Kammon had worked and studied hard to have the sort of power he had, but he never spoke well of the University. There was an awe in his voice now that showed just how dedicated he was to his craft and his understanding of the importance of this place.

“Riverkeep. Mountainkeep. Why did they create these places, and why hide them away without sharing this knowledge with the world?” Remec asked. “That wasn’t who Jacob was. He wanted to educate people. He didn’t believe the University should be the only place people could learn to use the elements.”

Kammon put the book in his hand back on the shelf, moved to the other side where the section ended, and pulled out another.

Ezo looked at Remec and shrugged. “I don’t understand Jacob like I thought I did. I can’t explain any of this.”

“You should start here, Ezo,” Kammon said, standing up with a book in hand. He handed it to Ezo.

When he opened it, he realized it was his uncle’s handwriting. When he looked at the bookcase, there were several other books in the same style. “What is this?”

“Jacob was the last keeper of Mountainkeep. These are his journals.”