Pameten,
Vitis, and Odvaha to his left, with Fuerza, Zavest, Rakkaus,
Frieden, Langmutig, and Bron van Vreugde to his right. An
extravagant rug covered the floor of the enormous room, with
paintings and tapestries decorating the walls.
Ciafus, Usk, and Bron van Vreugde
stood most serious. Nartod paused to catch his breath, looking into
a group of inquisitive eyes.
“Dear Nartod, this is most
unlike you to barge in when such a meeting is being held. Could
this not wait?” questioned Bron van Vreugde.
“He looks most pale, Bron. Speak
Nartod, what have you to tell us?” Ciafus inquired.
“The Ekleipsis, dear Ciafus,” said Nartod, almost yelling, yet
breathless.
The room silenced. “The Ekleipsis?”
repeated Ciafus, more as a question.
Nartod moved forward to
gain support from the table, catching his breath. It was not so
much the run, but the thoughts which accompanied him up the stairs
that worked him. He told the council of Dartego and the accident,
how he was brought inside the castle and spoke only one word before
he fell asleep: “Ekleipsis.” He told how Dartego had come from the
direction of Trachten, which was just shy north of the Shadow Lands
and Oscuridad. They all knew of that which he spoke, they just
could not believe it was spoken.
Secrets Revealed
A pounding at the door
awakened Sycress. Her eyes sprung open with the jar of noise. She
rolled over to shake Labo, whispering, “Labo…Labo…Someone is at the
door…wake up.” He was stubborn and deep asleep, not even flinching
at her call. She found his ribs among his chubby sides and poked
them. He flinched awake.
Labo tiredly questioned
Sycress for waking him. It was a little past midnight, most
uncommon behavior. Before she was able to answer, the pounding came
again. Startling Labo, he jumped to his feet, sliding on his pants
and grabbing an odd-shaped black handled dagger by his
bed.
Reaching the door slowly,
the pounding continued. “Who is it?” Labo questioned loud and
deep.
“The council,” was the
quick reply.
This was the Council of
Nesal, made of seven persons. The speaker was Tindal and tonight he
had led the group to Labo’s home, but that was not who they
sought.
The council? Labo questioned to himself, reluctantly opening
the door. He hid the dagger inside his jacket hanging near the
window.
The first person Labo saw
was Tindal carrying a lantern, but none of the council looked very
happy in the least. He felt the nerves come alive throughout his
body, not really sure as to why the men were at his doorstep. What
would drive them from their beds at this hour, he did not know and
it scared him. Guilty conscience or human nature, he couldn’t help
but run things through his mind to see if he had done something
worthy of the visit.
“Labo, is Rayhold here?” Tindal asked
without introduction or common chat. Straight to the point relieved
Labo of his question if it was he, only to create new fear by the
mere mention of his son’s name.
Sycress heard every word
and hastened to make herself descent before men. She spilled from
the room, directly to the door, before words could leave Labo’s
mouth. “What do you need with our son?” she asked intently, feeling
the motherly instinct of protection overtaking her.
§ § § §
Although Vandor and Rayhold
were friends, less close most recently, their parents were not so
much. Rayhold’s parents, Labo and Sycress, were quiet people who
were hardly seen in Nesal, as most of the things they sold were
delivered to other villages. When they were around, there were
mostly mere common greetings and such without much more.
Vandor’s parents, Tindal
and Sorie, on the other hand, took part in other things. Tindal
spent most of his time in study, teaching, and learning of history
and other topics. He was speaker of the Council of Nesal, so he was
close to family and the council members, but not many others. Sorie
was quiet and mingled mostly
Vitis, and Odvaha to his left, with Fuerza, Zavest, Rakkaus,
Frieden, Langmutig, and Bron van Vreugde to his right. An
extravagant rug covered the floor of the enormous room, with
paintings and tapestries decorating the walls.
Ciafus, Usk, and Bron van Vreugde
stood most serious. Nartod paused to catch his breath, looking into
a group of inquisitive eyes.
“Dear Nartod, this is most
unlike you to barge in when such a meeting is being held. Could
this not wait?” questioned Bron van Vreugde.
“He looks most pale, Bron. Speak
Nartod, what have you to tell us?” Ciafus inquired.
“The Ekleipsis, dear Ciafus,” said Nartod, almost yelling, yet
breathless.
The room silenced. “The Ekleipsis?”
repeated Ciafus, more as a question.
Nartod moved forward to
gain support from the table, catching his breath. It was not so
much the run, but the thoughts which accompanied him up the stairs
that worked him. He told the council of Dartego and the accident,
how he was brought inside the castle and spoke only one word before
he fell asleep: “Ekleipsis.” He told how Dartego had come from the
direction of Trachten, which was just shy north of the Shadow Lands
and Oscuridad. They all knew of that which he spoke, they just
could not believe it was spoken.
Secrets Revealed
A pounding at the door
awakened Sycress. Her eyes sprung open with the jar of noise. She
rolled over to shake Labo, whispering, “Labo…Labo…Someone is at the
door…wake up.” He was stubborn and deep asleep, not even flinching
at her call. She found his ribs among his chubby sides and poked
them. He flinched awake.
Labo tiredly questioned
Sycress for waking him. It was a little past midnight, most
uncommon behavior. Before she was able to answer, the pounding came
again. Startling Labo, he jumped to his feet, sliding on his pants
and grabbing an odd-shaped black handled dagger by his
bed.
Reaching the door slowly,
the pounding continued. “Who is it?” Labo questioned loud and
deep.
“The council,” was the
quick reply.
This was the Council of
Nesal, made of seven persons. The speaker was Tindal and tonight he
had led the group to Labo’s home, but that was not who they
sought.
The council? Labo questioned to himself, reluctantly opening
the door. He hid the dagger inside his jacket hanging near the
window.
The first person Labo saw
was Tindal carrying a lantern, but none of the council looked very
happy in the least. He felt the nerves come alive throughout his
body, not really sure as to why the men were at his doorstep. What
would drive them from their beds at this hour, he did not know and
it scared him. Guilty conscience or human nature, he couldn’t help
but run things through his mind to see if he had done something
worthy of the visit.
“Labo, is Rayhold here?” Tindal asked
without introduction or common chat. Straight to the point relieved
Labo of his question if it was he, only to create new fear by the
mere mention of his son’s name.
Sycress heard every word
and hastened to make herself descent before men. She spilled from
the room, directly to the door, before words could leave Labo’s
mouth. “What do you need with our son?” she asked intently, feeling
the motherly instinct of protection overtaking her.
§ § § §
Although Vandor and Rayhold
were friends, less close most recently, their parents were not so
much. Rayhold’s parents, Labo and Sycress, were quiet people who
were hardly seen in Nesal, as most of the things they sold were
delivered to other villages. When they were around, there were
mostly mere common greetings and such without much more.
Vandor’s parents, Tindal
and Sorie, on the other hand, took part in other things. Tindal
spent most of his time in study, teaching, and learning of history
and other topics. He was speaker of the Council of Nesal, so he was
close to family and the council members, but not many others. Sorie
was quiet and mingled mostly
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