a carver, Tyr’d had a fondness for wooden sculptures, ornate utensils and knife handles, decorative onlays, puzzles and toys, and often spent time carving something whimsical during his travels across Thendylath. Sometimes he sold them, other times he gave them to the children of his unsuspecting dupes. His specialty, though, was a type of box that had a hidden compartment only he knew how to open. He wondered whether his skill with a chisel was lost forever in these untrained hands.
“Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you,” Cirang snapped as she took the box from Vandra. Inside the hidden compartment of this particular box was a small, silk bag of serragan powder Tyr had brought from Nilmaria. The serragan weed didn’t grow in Thendylath, and so the powder was practically unknown.
“None o’this belongs to you either,” Kinshield said, “Cirang.”
Cirang narrowed her eyes at him and lifted one side of her lip. “Shall we quit the pretense? We all know I’m not truly Cirang. Yes, I created these items. I was apprenticed to a carver very young and had earned my indicia.”
“What’s indicia?” Vandra asked.
“The designs sewn into a Nilmarion’s skin are mostly ward lines, though some around the eyes are indicia, which indicate his profession, birth clan, and sometimes station.” Cirang retrieved the journal, handed it to Gavin, and rose to her feet. “Be careful with it,” she said. “It’s the original copy.”
He opened it gingerly, taking care with its old pages and binding. Daia and Vandra, standing beside him, looked on.
“Oh, look. There’s a map,” Vandra said.
“So Sevae actually found it?” Gavin asked.
“Let’s see what it says.” Daia began to read some of the passages aloud.
It was quite by accident that I overheard old King Dantrek on his deathbed confide to Prince Arek there exists a wellspring high in the mountains that his father, King Ivam, had some interest in for its secret, magical properties. According to legend — a legend King Ivam had worked hard to discredit — drinking of the Well of the Enlightened had the potential to permanently raise a person’s spirit to the purest form. Not only would this effect eliminate crime, it would also inspire a sense of community such as the world has never seen, eliminating hunger and poverty. I have never heard of this wellspring, but the notion of it intrigues me. I will endeavor to learn more about it.
With their attention diverted, Cirang turned her body slightly away and opened the box’s hidden compartment to confirm the bag was still there. She removed it and hid it in her closed hand, feeling the powdery substance within. Nobody noticed. With a smirk, she nonchalantly bent to scratch an itch and tucked the bag into the top of her boot.
They wouldn’t have a chance.
“What are you doing?” Vandra asked.
“I had an itch. Is that a crime?”
“Watch yourself.”
I waited a month after King Dantrek’s funeral before asking King Arek about the wellspring. His reaction was not only surprising but alarming in its intensity. The mere mention of the wellspring made him fly into such a rage, I feared he would burst a vein. He instructed me in no uncertain terms not to bring the matter up again, and would not answer my questions about it. I’d never seen such anger in him before or since, for I fear to broach the subject until the emotion of having lost his father fades with time. If I want to know more about the wellspring, I’ll need to research it myself clandestinely.
“Is this the only other journal Sevae had?” Kinshield asked.
Daia knelt and examined the other books.
Cirang nodded. “I know of only two. You already have the other.”
“You might be interested in these, Gavin,” Daia said. “Here’s one called ‘A Treatise on the Influence of Gems in Magic Casting’ and this one — ‘Spiritual Consequences of Practicing the Dark Magics.’”
“Awright, grab those and let’s go. We can read more on the way. Wait. What’s that you have?” Kinshield took the small box from her hands.
“Only something I— Sithral Tyr once carved. I would like to keep it, if you don’t mind, for sentimental reasons.”
He opened the main compartment and, seeing it was empty, shut it again and handed it back. “Suit yourself.” Kinshield closed the chest and put the gargoyle on top.
After everyone climbed back up, Brawna closed the hatch, and Vandra covered it with the rug and pallet before leaving.
They mounted up to begin the long ride back to Tern. “I fulfilled my part of our