extent of
their powers was, but all deemed it unnatural. Perhaps that is why it was so
easy for the Mad Emperor to gain numbers to his cause.
“The Mad Emperor Nero’s war on the Ascillians
began the massacre that would result in the near extinction of an entire
people. By the end of it, when the free countries rose against Nero and
overthrew him and put an end to his war, a great number of Ascillians had
already died.
“Even after the Mad Emperor was overthrown, and
his empire disbanded into the countries we now know, the persecution and fear
against the Ascillians remained. The race of the Old People was reduced to a
rabble people scattered throughout the land, hunted and killed sometimes for no
more reason than that their neighbors thought they meant them harm. Throughout
the years their numbers dwindled, until it was believed that their existence
was at an end.
"It is now believed that a small group of
Ascillians living in a backwater village killed some dozen years ago were the
last alive. From what started during the Mad Emperor’s reign only forty-three
years ago, a reign that destroyed much of an entire race and changed the lands
of Cahrad as we know it, we can only be sure of one that escaped alive, into a
world that fears and distrusts his kind. That lone child is your nephew.”
“I know what happened,” Jon said fiercely, and
wiped tears away from his eyes. “I experienced too much loss not to know!”
“Yes, but the boy is only half Ascillian is he
not?” Hamar asked. “Who were his parents?”
“What does it matter?” Jon demanded. Oh,
Jared, look what you’ve put me in now . The memories of his brother were heart-wrenching
on their own, but added to the fact that he now stood loosing Jared’s only son,
the whole of it threatened to rip him apart inside. The memories brought on a
fresh inception of tears.
Hamar frowned. “I don’t suppose it does. But the
tale of the Ascillians is not yet done. Not for our purpose. There was a druid
once, named Cathanin, who spent several years among the Ascillians, learning
their religions and their myths and their histories. In one of his commentaries
he talks of something called the Source of Light, and mentions how the
Ascillians believed they were in charge of maintaining it. Cathanin wrote that
the Ascillians believed the Source is what represents the light of the world,
almost as a single heart beating for all life. Without it, the world as we know
it would shrivel and be swallowed in darkness.”
“What do these stories have to do with Adrian?”
Jon demanded.
“Stories,” mused Hamar. “Cathanin believed them
to be stories as well, never realizing that it could be the very truth. I spoke
earlier about the King and his seer. The King has in his possession in Grandal
a Krillen, a device that allows him glimpses into what may be. His seer, Nemar
Bahnin, claims to have seen the fate of this world in the Krillen. The King
believes him, which tells me that he must have seen part of it as well. The
seer says that he witnessed our world beneath an everlasting darkness, as
though the Ruins had consumed and tainted everything. And within the Ruins he
saw a single glow of pulsating light, growing smaller with every pulse. He said
it was dying.”
Jon shook his head, snagged on his painful
memories and unable to follow the other man’s words. He didn‘t know what to
believe at that moment. “Can’t the King send men to recover it for him? Why
must he need Adrian?”
“Only an Ascillian can touch the Source. Any
other who tries will be killed, as was discovered by King Aeiron’s seer when
searching through Cathanin’s books. And there is also the matter of reaching
the Source, which no man will have an easy time doing. It lies in the heart of
the Ruins. I take it you have heard of the Ruins. Let me tell you that whatever
you have heard is likely true.” Hamar sighed then, as though all this talk had
wearied him. “Thus, for the hope of the
their powers was, but all deemed it unnatural. Perhaps that is why it was so
easy for the Mad Emperor to gain numbers to his cause.
“The Mad Emperor Nero’s war on the Ascillians
began the massacre that would result in the near extinction of an entire
people. By the end of it, when the free countries rose against Nero and
overthrew him and put an end to his war, a great number of Ascillians had
already died.
“Even after the Mad Emperor was overthrown, and
his empire disbanded into the countries we now know, the persecution and fear
against the Ascillians remained. The race of the Old People was reduced to a
rabble people scattered throughout the land, hunted and killed sometimes for no
more reason than that their neighbors thought they meant them harm. Throughout
the years their numbers dwindled, until it was believed that their existence
was at an end.
"It is now believed that a small group of
Ascillians living in a backwater village killed some dozen years ago were the
last alive. From what started during the Mad Emperor’s reign only forty-three
years ago, a reign that destroyed much of an entire race and changed the lands
of Cahrad as we know it, we can only be sure of one that escaped alive, into a
world that fears and distrusts his kind. That lone child is your nephew.”
“I know what happened,” Jon said fiercely, and
wiped tears away from his eyes. “I experienced too much loss not to know!”
“Yes, but the boy is only half Ascillian is he
not?” Hamar asked. “Who were his parents?”
“What does it matter?” Jon demanded. Oh,
Jared, look what you’ve put me in now . The memories of his brother were heart-wrenching
on their own, but added to the fact that he now stood loosing Jared’s only son,
the whole of it threatened to rip him apart inside. The memories brought on a
fresh inception of tears.
Hamar frowned. “I don’t suppose it does. But the
tale of the Ascillians is not yet done. Not for our purpose. There was a druid
once, named Cathanin, who spent several years among the Ascillians, learning
their religions and their myths and their histories. In one of his commentaries
he talks of something called the Source of Light, and mentions how the
Ascillians believed they were in charge of maintaining it. Cathanin wrote that
the Ascillians believed the Source is what represents the light of the world,
almost as a single heart beating for all life. Without it, the world as we know
it would shrivel and be swallowed in darkness.”
“What do these stories have to do with Adrian?”
Jon demanded.
“Stories,” mused Hamar. “Cathanin believed them
to be stories as well, never realizing that it could be the very truth. I spoke
earlier about the King and his seer. The King has in his possession in Grandal
a Krillen, a device that allows him glimpses into what may be. His seer, Nemar
Bahnin, claims to have seen the fate of this world in the Krillen. The King
believes him, which tells me that he must have seen part of it as well. The
seer says that he witnessed our world beneath an everlasting darkness, as
though the Ruins had consumed and tainted everything. And within the Ruins he
saw a single glow of pulsating light, growing smaller with every pulse. He said
it was dying.”
Jon shook his head, snagged on his painful
memories and unable to follow the other man’s words. He didn‘t know what to
believe at that moment. “Can’t the King send men to recover it for him? Why
must he need Adrian?”
“Only an Ascillian can touch the Source. Any
other who tries will be killed, as was discovered by King Aeiron’s seer when
searching through Cathanin’s books. And there is also the matter of reaching
the Source, which no man will have an easy time doing. It lies in the heart of
the Ruins. I take it you have heard of the Ruins. Let me tell you that whatever
you have heard is likely true.” Hamar sighed then, as though all this talk had
wearied him. “Thus, for the hope of the
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