and flexed his right hand ominously. Amusement drained from the immortal’s face as Carym realized the ancient Sigilist was about do something painful.
“Am I to recruit new followers then?”
“No,” said the Cjii, surprisingly. “The completion of your task will accomplish that for you. Zuhr wants your deeds to speak for themselves. Zuhr wants you to demonstrate that you are an arm of His might at every moment of your life. He wants it known that the Return has come about because of Him, that the powers harnessed by the Sigil Tides are His creation. People will flock to Him and reject the false promises of His children.”
Carym felt his newfound enthusiasm slipping. The burden of his past that he had carried for so long, and had believed he had been set free from, came crashing back in a new form; responsibility. He sank to the floor and sat cross legged, resting his chin on his hand.
“I am going to be your mentor for as long as I can stomach the job. You will learn what it is to be a Fyrbold and eventually you will be tasked with teaching others.”
Carym forced himself to bite back his anger and accept his place, for now. There might come a time when he would consider shedding this responsibility. Unfortunately, trapped miles below the surface of the world, stalked by hunting parties of the Shadowfyr, Carym knew their best chance at escape lay in his acceptance of the powers bestowed on him.
“I will be teaching you how to use and control the Tides that are all about you. These are powerful forces that will be at your beck and call. But you must learn self-discipline or you will destroy yourself with the power. You must maintain discipline over your emotions or you will surely be destroyed by them!
“The Shadowfyr’s minions are powerful. Although the absence of the Tides has been an obstacle to them, they have found other ways to secretly practice their use of the Shadow Sigil. The Shadowfyr’s minions are not rusty in their skills.”
Carym let that sink in.
“Those pitiful wretches with whom you have already fought were nothing but the lowest of the lowly scum employed by the dark god Umber. He has been testing your strength, searching for weakness. He knows your potential but he does not know your worth and very soon he will send all the Dark Hunters of the Underworld he can find just to destroy you.”
Carym didn’t like the sound of that at all. “What are they?”
“The most powerful, and some say demonic, beings ever employed by Umber. There are many, and each one is terribly powerful. Umber will likely grant them each a host of vile soldiers. They are the most terrifying, destructive forces ever to walk Llars. They are immortals, like me, only they were never once mortal as I once was. Still, they can be defeated once you are powerful enough. But that will not be soon.
“You may have heard these names before: Cerunnos, the Horned Hunter; Hessan, the Headless Rider; Acktlanda, the Seductive; Blathune, the Firey Witch; Corchrann the Serpent; Ckrathrawl the destructive; Havganwen, the Hag Witch; Samshan, the reaper; Scathach the Shadow; and Trigar the Bull. You are not ready to face them, so you must flee and you must practice your skills. The attacks you will face will become stronger and more complex and you must know how to counter them.”
Carym had heard of these beings before. Hundreds of tales talk of these supernatural creatures which have haunted, hunted, imprisoned, or destroyed legendary men throughout history. By the tone of Mathonry’s voice, the tales didn’t do these Dark Hunters justice. Mathonry suddenly reached into Carym’s coat pocket and withdrew the velvety sack containing the other powerful stones. He poured the marble shaped stones into his palm and stared at them intently for a long moment, silent.
“Bartholomeul?” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. Carym nodded dumbly, aware that this immortal was a truly powerful being in his own right.
“You
“Am I to recruit new followers then?”
“No,” said the Cjii, surprisingly. “The completion of your task will accomplish that for you. Zuhr wants your deeds to speak for themselves. Zuhr wants you to demonstrate that you are an arm of His might at every moment of your life. He wants it known that the Return has come about because of Him, that the powers harnessed by the Sigil Tides are His creation. People will flock to Him and reject the false promises of His children.”
Carym felt his newfound enthusiasm slipping. The burden of his past that he had carried for so long, and had believed he had been set free from, came crashing back in a new form; responsibility. He sank to the floor and sat cross legged, resting his chin on his hand.
“I am going to be your mentor for as long as I can stomach the job. You will learn what it is to be a Fyrbold and eventually you will be tasked with teaching others.”
Carym forced himself to bite back his anger and accept his place, for now. There might come a time when he would consider shedding this responsibility. Unfortunately, trapped miles below the surface of the world, stalked by hunting parties of the Shadowfyr, Carym knew their best chance at escape lay in his acceptance of the powers bestowed on him.
“I will be teaching you how to use and control the Tides that are all about you. These are powerful forces that will be at your beck and call. But you must learn self-discipline or you will destroy yourself with the power. You must maintain discipline over your emotions or you will surely be destroyed by them!
“The Shadowfyr’s minions are powerful. Although the absence of the Tides has been an obstacle to them, they have found other ways to secretly practice their use of the Shadow Sigil. The Shadowfyr’s minions are not rusty in their skills.”
Carym let that sink in.
“Those pitiful wretches with whom you have already fought were nothing but the lowest of the lowly scum employed by the dark god Umber. He has been testing your strength, searching for weakness. He knows your potential but he does not know your worth and very soon he will send all the Dark Hunters of the Underworld he can find just to destroy you.”
Carym didn’t like the sound of that at all. “What are they?”
“The most powerful, and some say demonic, beings ever employed by Umber. There are many, and each one is terribly powerful. Umber will likely grant them each a host of vile soldiers. They are the most terrifying, destructive forces ever to walk Llars. They are immortals, like me, only they were never once mortal as I once was. Still, they can be defeated once you are powerful enough. But that will not be soon.
“You may have heard these names before: Cerunnos, the Horned Hunter; Hessan, the Headless Rider; Acktlanda, the Seductive; Blathune, the Firey Witch; Corchrann the Serpent; Ckrathrawl the destructive; Havganwen, the Hag Witch; Samshan, the reaper; Scathach the Shadow; and Trigar the Bull. You are not ready to face them, so you must flee and you must practice your skills. The attacks you will face will become stronger and more complex and you must know how to counter them.”
Carym had heard of these beings before. Hundreds of tales talk of these supernatural creatures which have haunted, hunted, imprisoned, or destroyed legendary men throughout history. By the tone of Mathonry’s voice, the tales didn’t do these Dark Hunters justice. Mathonry suddenly reached into Carym’s coat pocket and withdrew the velvety sack containing the other powerful stones. He poured the marble shaped stones into his palm and stared at them intently for a long moment, silent.
“Bartholomeul?” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. Carym nodded dumbly, aware that this immortal was a truly powerful being in his own right.
“You
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