She'd delivered the ancient texts to the guild's first branch; she believed they were penned by ancient vampires from the time of the Forgotten History and the mythical great war. She sought solace among like-minded scholars.
But nothing had turned out as she expected.
The texts, as well as all of her journals, were taken and locked away. She was most stunned by the confiscation of the latter. She hadn't seen them since. And no one believed even the lesser of her tales.
When she grew insistent, the other sages kept their distance, as if she were sick in the mind and contagious. Domin High-Tower, a master of her order, chastised her and insisted she stop telling "wild tales" of undead, dhampirs, and superstitious nonsense.
For a while Wynn had tried to remain obedient.
She'd never beenfeltso alone. Eventually she couldn't stand it any longer.
She pressed her accounts of powerful undead, of subterfuge and meddling from the Anmaglhk, and Most Aged Father's obsession that a long-forgotten Ancient Enemy was stirring in the world. And the more she said, and the more she was denied and shunned, the more her fears overwhelmed her from within.
Memories came as nightmares that wouldn't ease, but no one listened to Witless Wynn Hygeorht anymore. No one except quiet, watchful, sardonic Ghassan il'Snke, another outsider in a place she thought was home. But even that didn't keep her from dwelling on her inadequacies compared to the strengths of her missing friends.
Magiere, a dhampir born of a mortal mother and a vampire father, had a nature akin to a Noble Dead. Leesil, half-elven with the sharp senses of his mother's people, had been trained as an assassin. And Chap, a born-Fay in a majay-h's large form, had awareness like no other living being. Each had their way of dealing with the undead, and together they had sent many to ashes.
What did Wynn have to match them? Nothing.
So she had gone to il'Snke with a wild notion.
She askedbeggedfor his help, as he was the only one who might achieve her request. Rather than the cold lamp crystals made by her guild with notable effort and cost, she needed light of a different nature.
Wynn wanted sunlightto shield herself from the dark and all that moved in it, including the Noble Dead that no one else here believed in.
That night, Domin il'Snke had just stared at her.
The look on his dusky tan face made Wynn's doubts eat her up inside, until she nearly broke into tears. Was what she asked even possible? It had never been done, to her knowledge, at least not by the few sages with skill in alchemy, a practice of thaumaturgy via artificing.
To make a crystal that could emit light of the same nature as the sun...
Waiting upon il'Snke's reply had been the heaviest silence Wynn could remember. But he never looked at her as if she were mad. When he finally nodded, narrow-eyed and scowling, Wynn almost broke into tears again.
Finally someone believed in her.
Now, sitting upon the bed with the dark-skinned domin, Wynn held up the long crystal.
"Show me... how to activate it."
Another disapproving scowl darkened il'Snke's face. He shook his head with a huff and took the crystal.
"First, it must be properly mounted for handling. I do not think it safe to hold when activatedand it is not yet ready. I and my chosen aides have only completed its physical making... after quite a few unsatisfactory results. Now I must work upon it myself... prepare it... and only then teach you its use."
Wynn's mouth dangled open. "How much longer?"
Il'Snke arched one thick eyebrow.
"Sorry," she said. "It's just taken so long, but I'm grateful for your effort and faith in me."
Domin il'Snke rewrapped the crystal and slipped it inside his robe. "Then as repayment, you will come out among your peers. Play at cards, discuss local politics, drink tea, anything besides this self-imposed cloister."
Wynn quickly shook her head. "No, no, I'm... I have things to work on privately."
"No, you do not!" he answered sharply. "Not without my supervision. If only I could find a way to remove your... talent."
At that Wynn turned narrow-eyed herself.
He was the only one here who knew of her malady, and she noticed the glistening of his brow. Shutting off her mantic sight hadn't been easy on him, even as an adept mage. Not as it had been for Chap, with his Fay nature.
When she'd first told il'Snke, he'd seemed anxious and angry, immediately suggesting he try to cure her. She'd hesitated, and then refused. That didn't please him, and he insisted she not tamper with her sight except under his supervision.
He'd said could and not should concerning removing her mantic sight. Had he been trying something behind her back?
Il'Snke placed a hand behind her shoulder and propelled her toward the door.
"Your work can wait. Come."
Annoyed at being forced from privacy, Wynn couldn't think of a polite refusal. Not after all his efforts on her behalf. She allowed herself to be escorted into the outer stone passage.
Along the hallway they passed other doors to small chambers of other apprentice and journeyor sages. They headed down the far narrow stairs and out an old oak door. Entering the castle's inner courtyard, il'Snke herded her to the same double doors she'd watched from her window. When the domin pulled one door wide, warm air with a thin taint of smoke, and the sounds of voices, spilled out around Wynn.
Even in her hesitation, il'Snke waited patiently until she stepped into the entryway. She followed as he headed left down the passage leading into what had once been half of the castle's old great hall.
In spite of everything since Wynn's return, she loved this placethis old fortress. Over four centuries past, the first rulers of Malourn had resided here, when Calm Seatt had barely been a city. But they'd embarked upon plans for a new and greater castle. The royal court moved in, and this first castle became a barracks for the country's armed forces.
Two centuries later, Queen lfwine II saw a need for something more. Several scholars of history thought she desired a more lavish residence, while others claimed thatlike her descendantsshe wanted a place where she could view the sea. Those of the royal bloodline had always shown a strange attraction to the open waters, even unto tragedy. To this day no one knew why the sea called to the family of reskynna. Even their name meant "kin of the ocean waves."
lfwine II oversaw designs of an elaborate castle closer to Beranlmr Bay. The nation's armed forces, including a newly established city guard to augment the constabularies, moved to the vacated second castle. The first castleby far the oldest and smallestwas given over to the early beginnings of the Guild of Sagecraft.
And since that time, with the help of the dwarves across the bay in Dhredze Seatt, who had lent their legendary stonecraft to the building of all three fortifications, the first castle was modified to meet the sages' needs. New buildings were attached to the main keep's exterior in its inner bailey.
The keep of the guiled p of thd's castle was a hollowed square, its inner courtyard surrounded by the outer walls, with inner buildings flush against them. The round corner towers were now used for the offices and studies of domins and premins. Wynn's room was located on the second floor of the old barracks to the courtyard's southeast side.
"Perhaps some cinnamon bread is left over from this morning?" il'Snke mused, stepping ahead of her.
Wynn almost smiled. The Suman sage had a fondness for spiced cakes and breads, perhaps missing his homeland more than he acknowledged. Down the passage, they rounded a main archway into a great hall.
Here the royals of Malourn once entertained guests of high birth and visiting dignitaries. But the space was now the guild's common hall, filled with a variety of mismatched tables and chairs, stools and benches. It was used for everything from off-hour meals and light studies to leisure pursuits and social gatherings. As a child Wynn had spent happy evenings here, with the enormous hearth in the back wall blazing with piled logs. The royal family was generous in increasing the guild's yearly budget.