Arc 1: Chapter 10: Shadows Over Caelfall
I woke just before dawn. We cleared the Irkwood not long after, and moved into the domain known as Caelfall.
My first impression of that small country was that it was a gloomy sort of place. Small lakes and marshland were scattered across a dreary, mostly uncultivated stretch of pseudo-wilderness. Dead trees burst from murky, shallow water in many places, bare limbs stretching toward the sky like the grasping fingers of the dead, and hungry growth threatened to choke the narrow road. Morning mist coiled sullenly beyond the path, shrouding the terrain in a jealous haze.
Maybe my opinion of the place was spoiled by the knowledge that a warlock ruled it. Even still, my companions didn’t seem much more enthused than I did. Lisette watched the mist-veiled country with quiet concern, and Olliard kept his calm gaze fixed firmly forward, his eyes unreadable behind the semi-opaque lenses of his spectacles.
As we moved closer to my destination, I considered the task ahead of me. My dream-audience with the onsolain was as clear in my memory as any real event — clearer, even. It had been no phantom theater of a sleeping mind, I knew. The way I saw it, I had two problems; the first was that I needed to learn more about the lord who ruled this dreary country. Unlike with Leonis Chancer, who I knew by well-established reputation as the instigator of terrible atrocities before his tenure as a bishop, I’d never even heard of an Orson Falconer.
I needed information. An enemy unknown was dangerous, and the only advantage I had was anonymity. The healers I traveled with helped in that regard.
That was the second problem. Olliard of Kell and his apprentice had done me a good turn, and they were unknowingly traveling into danger. I doubted I could turn them away from it — what would I say? That a demigod had warned me this land was inhabited by a dangerous apostate and it was my task to stop him? They’d think me a madman.
But I didn’t want the two to get wrapped up in my task, either. Because they had saved my life, I was obligated to protect them in turn.
You are no longer a knight, I reminded myself. You said so to Eanor yourself. Stop pretending like you’re still bound by that creed.
Better to focus on my task, and keep the two of them from getting involved.
My injuries might have posed a third problem but — as it turned out — Eanor’s cryptic comment toward the end of our meeting hadn’t just been idle banter. I realized soon after waking that my wounds no longer troubled me.
The onsolain had healed me, I was certain. Perhaps I should have felt grateful for that, but it mostly just led me to suspect I had more pain to look forward to.