“Because Kareth stole it. It’s ours, and stolen property should be returned to its proper owners. We want it back.”
Laedron detected something odd about the way Tavin had replied. I don’t think he’s lying, but he’s not telling the entire truth, either. “If you want our help, you’ll have to tell us everything, no matter how dreadful that prospect might be.”
Tavin stood from the table, walked over, and sat on the corner of the desk. “To understand why, I must tell you of our history and how we came to be the way we are.”
“I think it would benefit us all to know,” Laedron said, despite Marac’s sighing. “Go on.”
“Long ago, we-Uxidin, Zyvdredi, and all the rest-were but noble houses of one people, one empire: the Nyrethine. Our lands and our people spread out across this continent from end to end, where so many nations-mortal nations-stand today. This was the time before Azura, before the Great War, long before anything that you would recognize.
“When the Creator gifted us with magic, we were instructed in its use, but the knowledge was too great for any single person to remember. The Bloodmyr Tome was created, by the Creator’s hand, so it is said, to store the knowledge, and it was bestowed upon the Elder Priest for safekeeping.”
“And these stories were passed down to you?” Laedron asked.
“By the Elder Priest, yes. In all of Myrdwyer, we have had three, each one-”
“Three?” Laedron’s jaw dropped. “That would make each one-”
Tavin nodded. “Thousands of years old. Yes.”
“Thousands… it’s difficult to fathom living for so long.” He thought about Ismerelda. Although he never knew her true age, she had told him that she fought at Azura’s side in the Great War over a thousand years ago.
“Amazing, is it not? And that brings us to our dilemma.”
“Does it?”
“Of course.” Tavin stared at Laedron. “The Bloodmyr Tome contains, amongst a number of secret spells and historical records, the secret of immortality, a secret of which we have a dire need.”
“I don’t understand. The Uxidin are immortal.”
“Yes, but nothing lasts forever. We can live for quite a long time, but not before we receive the Font… and we must, periodically, be renewed.”
Yes, the Font. He considered what he had seen come to pass, and he remembered Jurgen speaking of Vicar Forane’s thirst for eternal life and her treachery. It is a shame to see one so devoted give in to the lure of a font of youth. “You would have us find this tome and use it to drink the souls of others? Just so you can live forever?”
Tavin sighed. “No, you do not understand. We would never use cheap Zyvdredi tricks and certainly not at the cost of others. Allow me to continue.”
Reluctantly, Laedron nodded. Is there any way to achieve immortality without placing a cost of some sort on others?
“In the ancient era, the Nyrethine were divided into houses, and the three most prominent were Uxidin, Falacore, and Zyvdred. Whereas the Uxidin and Falacoran houses used the life forces of nature-trees, plants, that sort of thing-to rejuvenate, the Zyvdredi used any life force available. They became enthralled by the feeling of the renewal; it was like a drug to them, and it didn’t take long for the Zyvdredi to deplete their homeland of nearly every tree and plant. Then, they turned on the animals until those, too, were gone.
“The earth became rocky and barren where there once had been mountains ringed with vegetation. Where there had been forests and grass, the land turned to desert or ice, whichever was quickest to claim the land. With nothing else to satisfy their desires, the Zyvdredi turned on each other.”
“On each other? They killed their own people?”
“The strong ones sucked the souls from their lessers, and eventually, the only ones who remained were those in the highest positions of power, their children, or mighty wizards. Zyvdred went from an empire based upon material riches to one based upon the trading of souls. To facilitate their enterprise, they stored the essence of men in black gems.”
“Like these?” Laedron produced a handful of soulstones from a pouch on his belt, then held them out for Tavin to see. “We found them on assassins in Azura.”
“Are they…?” Tavin gulped, seemingly afraid to finish the question. “Filled?”
“Yes, we think so. Can you release them?”
“I can, but they will return to the ether, for only the essence, the raw life energy, remains. Though I would normally not endorse the practice, you may want to keep them for your own uses.”
Getting a bad feeling, Laedron furrowed his brow. “No, I don’t think I could. Isn’t it Necromancy?”
“Necromancy?” Tilting his head, Tavin appeared confounded by the question, as if he was trying to determine the meaning of the word.
Laedron explained, “Death magic. The realm of darkness and evil, the spells practiced by the Zyvdredi to hurt the rest of us.”
Tavin tightened his lips. “I only know one kind of magic. No spell can make you pure or foul. Good and evil are in the methods, how you use that knowledge, and the purpose, the end result you wish to achieve. You simply must know where you stand and avoid the taint of darkness in all that you do.”
Replacing the stones in his bag, Laedron nodded. “Please go on. Sorry for interrupting.”
“Ah, yes. Where was I?”
“The trading of souls,” Valyrie said, obviously captivated with the story.
“Yes, of course. Once the Zyvdredi had defiled their lands, House Falacore and House Uxidin responded in different ways. To prevent the same thing from happening, the Falacorans banned the practice of renewal, the font spells, and immortality in their lands, and their people returned to their mortal forms once the magic wore off. Not long after that, the Uxidin, my people, disallowed the Zyvdredi access to our country. A civil war began, and the nations of the north split into several new states: Falacore, Zyvdred, Lasoron, Albiade, and the land which is occupied by the Heraldan Theocracy now.”
“Was that before or after Azura?” Laedron asked.
“After the Great War, but before the War of the Eagles. The Falacorans found our decision too harsh, and the Lasoronians and the Albiadines simply wanted to be independent and saw an opportunity to act. Thus, the Uxidin, the Zyvdredi, and we suspect, the Falacoran royal family became the only immortals, for The Bloodmyr Tome remained with us. We acquire our essence from nature, these ancient trees, while the Zyvdredi gain sustenance by stealing souls.”
Marac stood. “And now, you’ve lost your spell.”
“Indeed.”
Laedron asked, “If we do not agree, what happens?”
“We die, Sorcerer. Men’s life energy can be extracted easily, as can the essence of grass or small animals, but the spell contained in that sacred text is the only one we can use to draw out the essence of the ancient forest. And it is that essence which we use, for we aren’t apt to follow down the road of the Zyvdredi. That path leads to corruption.”
“You said grass and small animals. Why not use those?”
“The Trappers have depleted this forest of all but the most elusive animals, and to absorb the essence of grass… you would be wasting your time, for you could do nothing other than seek out new spots of brush. Its essence is nearly as weak as dead earth or rock.”
“No one thought to write down this spell?” Valyrie asked.
“Sorry?”
“If you had recorded the spell somewhere else, you wouldn’t have this problem. You wouldn’t need the tome.”
“We have a number of reasons why it was never copied elsewhere. For one, its location was secret, known only by the Elder Priest, and it was only brought out in public when a renewal had to be performed. Second, the pages of the tome are the only channeling instruments that can withstand the power of the spell, and third, it had been used for thousands of years without issue. We had no reason to change. Lastly, creating copies of the spells could have had dire consequences if they had fallen into the wrong hands.”