Sahshir's body began to fail him later that day.

Of course, he'd felt the pain as usual for a long time, but it had not bothered him as much since the Second War of Power. However, it began to grow to the point where he felt he needed to stop. Not that Sahshir showed this weakness; he merely halted by a tree and sat down as if to meditate.

"We will rest here for a time," said Sahshr, putting the Sword of Order across his knees. "Urus, head to the north of here and find a cliff face. It looks out over the Sea of Power. The spirits are focused there.

"I am relying on you to find it."

"Is something wrong, Sahshir?" asked Oresa.

"I must meditate," said Sahshir.

Urus nodded and moved off with his staff. Oresa sat down across from him and looked at him with concern. Sahshir wondered what it was like to find a woman beautiful. He could look at her and know many would find her attractive. Sahshir wondered if that was all there was. Then, he dismissed the subject as irrelevant to his duty.

His eyes turned to where Tuor had emerged. He wore a pair of nunchucks at his side and a white tunic. His eyes were faintly amused.

"Tuor, I'm surprised you are here," said Sahshir.

Tuor shrugged and sat down. "I thought you might need guidance. You've now headed in the opposite direction we'd planned."

"What use is the Heaven's Eye to Baltoth if we cannot get to him?" asked Sahshir. "If Sorn is hostile, we'll have far more difficulty."

"It was merely an observation," noted Tuor. "It is the way of things that small deviations lead to far larger ones if you allow them to."

"I would have thought you would have objected," noted Sahshir. "You have come all the way out here after us."

Tuor shrugged. "It is often in deviations that we gain the power to achieve our goals.

"This is a matter that cannot be put off. Our own mission, however, can. King Belosh will easily be able to handle negotiations in the meantime."

"Um, Master Tuor, may I ask something?" asked Oresa suddenly.

"What is it, girl?" asked Tuor, annoyed at the interruption.

"You, um, you mentioned we're going to steal the Heaven's Eye in the name of Baltoth. Won't um... won't..." Oresa faltered.

"Speak freely, Oresa," said Sahshir. "The ruler benefits from hearing alternate perspectives."

"Won't that start a war?" asked Oresa. "I mean, Father tells me that we're at peace with them now. My brother, Ashinin, led the army that fought alongside them in Khasmir to the far west."

"It is no longer to the far west, Oresa," said Sahshir. "Sorn is a comparatively small way south and east of Khasmir, just below the High Elves realm on the map."

"Well, yes, but we're at peace with them now," said Oresa. "Duke Vanion respects Baltoth; some say he is even a worshipper in spirit."

"Worshipper in spirit?" asked Sahshir, having not heard the concept before.

"It's a belief among the Medi," said Tuor. "To be a worshipper in spirit is to be a devout follower of a particular cause or deity. But you also believe yourself to be something else. Personally, I find the idea to be absurd. Ones' conscious choices are the only relevant ones; those you do not know you are taking are not yours."

"But what if this starts a war?" asked Oresa.

"War is inevitable," said Tuor with a shrug. "And I can see far afield through my agents. Even as we speak, powers are gathering to begin a new conflict.

"Vanion's actions have only delayed the inevitable. His enemies at court will jump at any chance to destroy his efforts. I suspect he was only buying time to make a deal with Queen Arraxia of Seathorius. With Savior's Run reopened and a military alliance, he would be powerful indeed. All the more formidable to face our invasion, or Antion's."

"Antion's?" asked Oresa. "But surely he serves Antion."

"No Harlenorian serves another for long," said Tuor. "It is in their nature to fight amongst one another."

"But shouldn't we try to maintain the peace as long as possible?" asked Oresa.

"Peace should only be prolonged if a prolonged peace is to your benefit," said Tuor. "Once we have the Heaven's Eye, Baltoth's plan may come to fruition. Once that happens, Calisha shall reign supreme. And no earthly power may withstand us."

"Fine words from one who does not believe them," noted Sahshir in amusement.

"You assume much, Abdul. Why this cynicism?" asked Tuor, smiling.

"The plan, as you have laid it out, is vague and devoid of true content," said Sahshir with a shrug. "You ask us to accept your assurances on faith. While we have nothing without faith, I would prefer something more tangible now."

"Do you question the will of Baltoth?" asked Tuor.

"I question you," replied Sahshir, letting an edge into his tone.

Tuor nodded. "Fair enough.

"Very well, the truth is rather more boring, Oresa. No doubt you've heard the prophecy of Valranor?"

"Yes, ages ago, Valranor ruled over the world with an iron fist," said Oresa. "He cast down Ancient Namina when they refused to swear fealty to him. My family dates back to the first dynasty of Namina; we descend from one of the Emperor's sons. The one who won the civil war.

"When the island sank into the sea, we were hard-pressed to keep Valranor's armies back.

"But Baltoth the proud came forth in Seathorius and sowed discord among the Western Lands. From there, he marched alone into Valranor's domain and made war upon him. Many great battles ensued, and the Dust Elven civilization was cast down. Their proud spires were humbled, and they were forced from the land.

"At last, Baltoth was challenged to fight with Valranor sword to sword. But Baltoth was cunning and brought his sons, Suloth and Baelgost. Taking Valranor by surprise, he was overwhelmed. Suloth held him in place with magic chains, Baelgost cut his armor from his body. And Baltoth drove the Blade of Chaos into his heart, claiming the Sword of Order as his own.

"Then Valranor uttered these words:

"When East and West are in endless war,

"When the Sun burns brightest,

"Then shall you die by the hand of the bloodline of Anoa.

"You shall come to your end, and none shall save you."

"You know the tale well," noted Tuor.

"My sister, Atria, made sure I knew the story by heart, but well..." Oresa faltered. "She was taken prisoner by Tanith Telus, lieutenant of Argath Marn. Now, she is kept as her slave in the Dark Land of Ran Telus. East and West are in endless war, but what about the Sun Burning Brightest?"

"Metaphor, likely," said Sahshir. He and Tuor shared a glance before Tuor spoke. "In any case, the prophecy is a problem. Baltoth attempted to thwart it, of course. He ambushed and murdered Anoa IX, and that led to an era of Calishan dominance. But the bloodline has survived, and now we know it has returned.

"Relma Artorious, the Heir of Kings, has claimed Lightning Trail. I had hoped I'd managed to kill her with her parents. Unfortunately, Pandora and Arengeth are only useful if resourceful. Even now is working to establish Harlenor Reunited."

"Why is that bad?" asked Oresa.

"Because the Heir of Kings is of Anoa's bloodline by nature," said Tuor. "The Harlenorians have their own prophecy that says the Heir of Kings shall reunite the land. All the Kingdoms shall be brought to heel to create Harlenor Reunited."

"But what could unite Harlenor?" asked Oresa. "They fight among eachother as much as us."

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"Their hatred of us," said Sahshir, who had read extensively on the subject. "Every Harlenorian Knight is expected to participate in the Calishan Wars. That is what they call the innumerable conflicts between us. Every man-at-arms who fights within them thinks of it with pride. Whenever Calisha begins to gain dominance, all of them unite against us.

"Their hatred for Baltoth and their eternal vendetta is what unites them.

"So the only way the Heir of Kings could sustain such a union would be by leading a great crusade against us. And in that crusade, it would be an ideal time to fulfill Valranor's prophecy."

"Well said," said Tuor. "In any case, Baltoth has no intention of engaging the Heir of Kings in a climactic battle. Especially when we've finally managed to find some reasonable Lords we can make a deal with. It would be disastrous and, even if victorious, would devastate both our lands.

"And knowing how prophecies usually work, there would be some unknown baby. They'd grow up under the guidance of a wise sorcerer. Then they'll have everything handed to them and go through a predetermined road of trials. From there, the whole damn thing would start all over again. Leading to an eternal conflict between curly-haired farmboys and Baltoth. Eventually, one of the insufferable brats got lucky.

"Needless to say, it's not something we intend to let happen."

"So what are we doing instead?" asked Oresa.

"The Heaven's Eye can only be used by one of Elranor's bloodlines, and it is an immensely powerful object," said Tuor. "As such, it is the ideal weapon by which one of those idiots might stand a chance against Baltoth in combat. Arengeth and Pandora will be well aware of this fact. When we steal it, they will have to go after us.

"Fortunately, they must bring the Heir of Kings with them. They will follow us to Calisha, and we will murder them there and then. With Arengeth's death, the primary thing of keeping the old spirit alive will be gone. No one will remain to guide the prophecy, and it will hopefully die. At the very least, it will slow it down."

"What if the Heir of King's wins?" asked Oresa.

"Well then, we'll at least have resolved the age-old grudge between our nations. And we'll have done so without devastating the lands of Calisha," said Tuor. "Baltoth has already established a clear succession if he is killed. So, if he dies, plans are already in motion to ensure his resurrection. Some have already been made.

"Once Baltoth is dead, if it comes to that, we'll simply demand the Heir of King's head to keep the peace between our nations, of course. The Heir of the King's threatens the independence of every robber baron in Harlenor. With the only reason they'd need her gone, they'd be glad to get rid of her even if they would never admit it.

"Baltoth will return to life. The Heir of Kings will be dead. The prophecy will be fulfilled. And the world won't be ripped to shreds by a pointless war that benefits precisely no one.

"So, to answer your question, we are provoking the Heir of Kings into action to avoid a war. Baltoth is acting for the betterment of the world as a whole."

"But how are you going to get the Heaven's Eye?" asked Oresa. "No one not of Elranor's bloodline can touch it."

Tuor looked to Sahshir. "Tell her."

Sahshir resented the command but saw no reason not to cooperate. "I am of the bloodline of Elranor, distantly, as is Tuor."

Oresa stared in shock. "What, but that can't be! You're nothing like the chaotic God of Healing!"

"Be that as it may, I have the blood," said Sahshir. "As such, both of us will be able to take the Eye."

"Only you, actually," said Tuor. "I am... considered an enemy by the Eye. Elranor was not pleased with my defection."

At that moment, Urus came back. He walked in with his staff, looked at Tuor, blinked, and then returned to Sahshir.

"What is it, Urus?" asked Sahshir.

Urus smiled. "I've found what we're looking for."

Sahshir was silent for only a moment.

"Lead on then, Urus," he said at last.

Things were looking up.

And then they were looking down again.

It was a large outcropping of rock overlooking a vast body of water, now disturbed by a coming storm. Even now, Sahshir could see the dark clouds gathering. As if terrible foreboding events were to come. Even so, glancing at the left and then the right brought him to question Urus' judgments.

"Congratulations, Urus," said Sahshir, "you have found the sea."

"It is not the sea, but below where we stand," said Urus, tapping with his staff. "A hole in the rock there leads into a cave. We looked in there, and you'll like what we found." Then he moved forward, balanced his staff so it was upright, and let himself down.

Sahshir peered after Urus and saw him disappear into the rock. Glancing back to Oresa and Tuor, he shrugged and tried his hand. Sure enough, a gap led into the rock with Urus inside. He was holding a sphere of white light from the moon's spirit.

Sahshir entered, and then he heard a cry. Turning, he saw Oresa falling and caught her by the hand. Pulling her back up, he set her down. "Are you injured?"

"Just a few scuffed knees," said Oresa, forming energies around a bloody shin. "I'm fine, thanks."

Tuor landed behind them in one smooth movement and moved past Oresa into the cave. He examined it, and Sahshir did as well. It appeared to be a large round chamber, and in the far half was a large underground lake. An altar was rising out of the center of it. There appeared to be a candle that had long since gone out.

"A shrine," mused Tuor. "They used to build these hidden places, always looking out to sea. That was before the Knights of the Coin began their crusades. They hunted down those who worshipped any deity save Coinfurth long ago."

"Why would they do that?" asked Oresa.

"Sorn was the subject of numerous battles between Calisha and Antion," said Tuor. "And they came to resent both nations. Suvvest the Great engineered its rise as a sovereign nation. One of his means of doing so was to root out all other gods.

"I gather he wasn't fond of Coinfurth either. But he thought his service easier to achieve practical ends with."

"I sense power, great power here," said Sahshir, feeling the low thrumming in his mind. "Many of the spirits congregate within this place."

Urus, meanwhile, approached the altar. He drew up some dust from here, or what looked like dust. He smelled it. "Incense...

"Someone was here recently."

"Who comes before us?" asked a murmuring voice from the water. Out of the water came many humanoid figures, though many had features of animals. They seemed to be made of the water, and they swirled around them.

"Water spirits," mused Urus. "Some of these are as far away as the Isle of Camas."

"Camas," said Oresa, voice wistful. "I remember that adventure. Remember how high the southern mountains were? I remember Isamu wanted to climb them before you talked him out.

"I wonder how the people there are doing since we drove out those charlatans? The ones pretending to be agents of the Fish King to scare people."

"I believe Sorn invaded them," said Tuor. "It became a battleground between House Suvvest and Dinis in the most recent conflict."

Oresa looked crestfallen at that.

Sahshir, not to be deterred, moved forward and raised the Sword of Order. "I am King Sahshir of Western Kalthak; I seek an audience with the spirits of this place."

"You are known to us," said the voice of the spirits. "What is it you desire?"

"I seek to know why a spirit gathered a vast mist over Suvera," said Sahshir. "And also to know who did as much."

"The people of Sorn believe they comprehend all," came the reply. "They do not. Yet their ignorance diminishes us. We are weakened."

"What do you mean?" asked Oresa.

"The villages to the south of us once worshipped us and gave tribute," said the spirit. "Now, however, they have ceased their worship. Soldiers of Sorn have interfered with our rituals, commanded they worship Coinfurth alone.

"Now, our ability to manifest is waning."

"Your actions were timed alongside the flight of many lizardfolk," said Sahshir. "Was this mere coincidence?"

"The Fish King knows all that is hidden," replied the voice. "His thoughts extend beyond the moment to all things, and he knows them as they are."

"Did he communicate with you?" asked Sahshir.

"His voice is in every lapping of the waves," replied the voice. "It is in the rustling of the trees. All things in this world are but the merest fragment of his power. None may understand him, yet all know him in the darkness of their minds."

"Why?" asked Sahshir, taking the answer as a yes.

"It is unknown and unknowable," replied the spirits.

Sahshir was beginning to see why the people of Sorn preferred to pretend these spirits did not exist. He disliked them already. "Do you know anything useful? Or are you just wasting our time?"

"Time is an illusion," replied the voice. "There is only what is."

"Is there an audience with the Fish King for us?" asked Sahshir. "And are you the one who grants it? And if so, why?"

This question annoys the spirits and takes them off guard. Obviously, they preferred to keep people running around for a while. "...We may. It is our power to communicate with the Lord of the Unknown. However, to do so, you must perform a task."

Sahshir almost threw their words back at them and told them that there was no future, only what is. So what they were asking was quite impossible. But that seemed both petty and unproductive and was likely to annoy them. "And what is that?"

"The God, Typhos, is rising in power," said the spirits. "Many monsters that long cowered have been coming forth and massed in the marshes of Munsuen. Among the worst of them is the giant, Myosh. He has enslaved the spirits of the land and has filled the rivers with corpses.

"Slay him, and you shall have what you desire."

Sahshir nodded. "So be it."

The spirits vanished. Sahshir looked to Tuor. The man was examining some statues that had escaped Sahshir's notice. He seemed to be admiring their artistry. "Tuor."

"Yes?" said Tuor. "What is it?"

"Do you know who this Myosh is?" asked Sahshir.

"Actually, yes," said Tuor, seemingly pleased he had asked. "Myosh is a brother of Grakus, who Sahshir killed in battle in Zigilus. One of many. He was known for devouring vast numbers of people and animals alike. Eventually, he was pursued and fled far abroad.

"It seems he settled here."

"I remember you and Grakus got on well, to say the least," noted Sahshir.

"A professional association, I assure you," said Tuor.

Sahshir looked at him for a moment. "...Of course."

"Isn't there a peaceful solution to this?" asked Oresa.

"Typhos is our enemy," said Sahshir. "We should gain permission to kill this Myosh from the Merchant Lords, then wipe him out."

"But..." Oresa faltered. "I don't want to kill anyone?"

"Then, don't follow us," replied Sahshir simply. "You are under no obligation to go into battle if you are incapable of it." At some point, she was going to have to make a decision. He was surprised she'd put it off as long as she had.

Then he felt a biting pain and clutched his arm. It was as though his body was trying to tear itself to pieces. Yet he used the Sword of Order to calm the unnatural disease.

"Sahshir?" asked Oresa.

Sahshir shrugged. "It's nothing, just my body. Nothing worth worrying over.

"We'll meet up with Isamu and Cadas and make our plans."