Uncategorized

The Stones of Arcory Chapter Twenty Four
On the Silverborne Sea

Missive to Council

Season of Storm First Quarter First Horn’s Day

As per the missive and direction I have received given the floods across the lower Heterlaks, I have altered my path north and the Silverborne Sea to the new towers at the Isles of Albanic before heading further east. Despite your concerns regarding by trip to and return from The Vale, I am as eager to continue my mission as I am to visit Drey Galamar and Tess Alabstrite, as the wizards who built the new towers on Albanic, as you well understand were two of my former apprentices, and now work at providing their talents to the surrounding islands. However, when in sight of the towers, I found a surprise scattered on the coral covered shores of their small Island.

There were the wrecks of several galleys still visible on the rocks that protect the approach. Upon communing with brother and sister, I received their agreement this was distressing, but was told pirate raids have increased throughout the sea this past year, and there are ever those who believe they can raid a magician’s tower for its arcane riches, for both true and rumored.

There was something especially invigorating about the cool breeze that blew from the Silverborne Sea, a scent of salt which is even more powerful than those found on the shores of either the Ocean of Morning or the Sea of Dusk at either far extents of the Thirteen. And even though I was still troubled by my staggering failure at the pass, I had decided, in the way slow deliberation and time allows, I would not let it stop me from continuing. I would simply keep to my chronicling mission and refuse all entreaties, no matter the need, and not risk again usage of the spells of the third pattern or higher until my return to Council. I did not relish the thought of committing such acts of harm again. And I would leave it to my fellows to determine my ultimate fate once I returned.

It had been quite some time since I had crossed the sea that split east and west, longer still since I had visited the Isles of Albanic. And when I had, they had still been but outposts of the great northern seafaring kingdom of the Grevvi. Much of that was lost to the sea dragons, and the ruins of their ports were now only sparsely populated by fisher folk as the younger southern kingdoms grow in ascendance. As I gazed toward the small sailing ship’s destination I nostalgically recalled the days when there was only a single Albanic isle, a kingdom unto itself, with its great port city of Alban, not the shattered remnants which remained after the end of the Riven War, and Alban itself lost beneath the waves.

There is a weakness I will acknowledge is a desire to remember things as they were. So I was torn between wanting to enjoy the company of the brother and sister I had guided to collegiate fellowship, and recollection of the glory that was the towers of Alban.

Still, the inland sea air was pleasant and bracing in the early and surprisingly still calm days of the Season of Storm, and I had was able to endure the rocking of the long skiff with few complaints from my bones as we made our passage swiftly over the grey waves, beneath a the thin streaming clouds which appeared to point out our way.

I was also without a mount for the first time since leaving Council, as the horse I’d been given took one look at the small craft and steadfastly refused to board the small vessel. With all its kicking and biting, I decided it was wiser to leave it on the western shore, for any man who dared think himself its master.

I reminded myself to have words with the Master Stabler back at Council. While strong and swift and not lacking in endurance, the horse has been perhaps the most capricious and unwilling animal I have ever been charged with. In the time I have ridden it; it had thrown me twice and bitten me once. And yet it seemed unfair to deny it the ability to trot on the white beaches of Grand Albanic. True, I would be the first to admit my history with steeds is spotty. Things have never really been right between horses and myself since my old mare Lady Windrunner passed two decades ago. I had only ridden one like her since, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask Goldenstar such an allowance of another of his, not after what I had wrought.

 

Go To Chapter 23

Go To Chapter 25