[Hlaeth] Ch 28 - Thoughts of Houme

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            “Yes. Those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it, and my own people have been happily doomed by history and ignorance in kind,” I agreed with the elven historian, a thin and gracefully aging elfin by name of Efismistril.

            “Well, it is refreshing to see a human with a more enlightened perspective,” she smiled cheerfully. “Especially one with the level of power you are said to possess. I was warned to be careful not to anger you, Master Aelryinth.”

            “A wise thing to say, but I’m not one prone to anger, Elder. Be as irreverent as you like, but please don’t cross over into arrogance and snide superiority. That gets very tiresome very quickly, and I’d rather leave with pleasant memories of you than annoyed ones.”

            “Of course, Master Aelryinth,” she said soothingly. “Is there any other way I may be of assistance to you?”

            “The fallen Empire of the Yellow Sands. There is definitely something attached to the pronouncing of its name, a thread of Fate that wants to latch onto those that speak about it.” She blinked at me, and her cheerful face evaporated. “Telling no names, are there any rumors swirling around that have somehow persisted over the centuries and spring to mind when you think of the place, as opposed to those that have been proposed and just as rapidly forgotten? Such are the machinations of Fate trying to make certain events happen in the passing in time, but I am a very unsuitable recipient of such destinies, so you likely have not been compelled to tell me as you might have otherwise… and the elder of your High Mages is likely too powerful to be influenced that way.”

            “That is a very interesting view of the subject of destiny and prophecy…” she murmured, gazing at me thoughtfully. “There is something that springs to mind, now that you have jogged my memory, Master Aelryinth. The workings of prophecy, keeping true prophecies alive, while others fade from memory…”

            “A prophecy?” I definitely shouldn’t be in the running for one of those, Beyond Law and Chaos as I was.

            On the other hand, Mithar was the Guardian of Destiny, one of Good’s greatest tools against the strivings of the other Alignments, and I was definitely a servant of Him.

            “Indeed. It is just a random thing that has somehow attached itself to the legend of the Yellow Sands. It is very old, and nobody is certain who uttered it first, or where it came from, but scholars have preserved it, where so many other theories and predictions have fallen to the wayside or proved utterly wrong.”

            “Interesting.” Moreso, that the King, Queen, and their teacher hadn’t recited it to me, but again, workings of Destiny. Perhaps my Amulet’s link to Mithar via Faithfulness was enough to prod it forward, and an Eternal was not a suitable person to do so in a subtle manner. “If you please.”

            “Let me think a moment.” She put her hands together and her lively eyes grew distant as she went searching through a long and storied memory. “Ah, yes. It has been decades since I have even thought of it, but, as you say, it suddenly springs to mind with a strange clarity, one that I might have thought my own sharp memory, save for your words just now.”

            “A stranger from a far land.” Okay, that was so freaking vague even I had restrain a cough of disbelief, and she stifled a laugh at my expression. “Staff in hand, a walker between worlds. Ring in hand, a wielder of new magic. Scepter in hand, a bringer of new ways. Power in hand, a Seer of the Now, a Lorelord of Battle. Marked by Doom, Marked by Grace, a breaker of worlds; the Beauty, the Brute, the Strong, the Ancient, and the Young will sunder the Doom of Taran and free the Nexus of Worlds.”

            If there ever was a case for deities being at least sixth-dimensional and being able to act up and down a timeline, I had just heard it. I immediately made a Warding gesture, and something snapped in the air around us, startling her at the abruptness of my gesture.

            “What is Taran?” I asked, turning my head slowly and surveying things she could not see. “The word triggered something...”

            “It, it was the capitol of the Empire of Yellow Sands,” she said softly, a little wide-eyed and uncertain in the face of what she had just felt.

            “Go to your High Mages immediately.” I concentrated the Ward I’d just Evoked out and brought it down to her brow. “Tell them you need to be sequestered in a room that is impervious to scrying and divination attempts until Natural Renewal. You have been targeted by a hostile strand of Fate that will attempt to manipulate you, and you must wait for the world’s turning for it to go away.”

            She stared at me in disbelief and not a little fear. I made a gesture, weighted down with Truth, and she looked to Herald Ilbromel urgently.

            “Follow me, Historian,” the Herald said immediately, and led her away at a trot, not taking this lightly in the least.

            Commander Tellusian and Captain Fyanyl, still escorting me, looked at one another, and then at me.

            I flicked up a sheet of paper, glanced at it, and the Prophecy swam into place on it in extremely functional and not-so-elegant Elven. They had interesting expressions as they studied it.

            “Do not speak it aloud, but report it to your superiors that this is definitely a Prophecy, and it is definitely in play right now. I may even have been brought here specifically to fulfill it, making my arrival here, one of the few places on the world it is likely preserved, inevitable, and the momentum of Fate turned against whatever this Doom is that is trying to twist it badly.

            “I will be leaving shortly to minimize the effects of any such Doom on this location, as it will instinctively attempt to fight any further inquiries into chains of thought or action that lead to alternities that counter it. Fates crashing into one another can turn bad quite quickly and in all the worst ways.

            “Your Highest Mage was right: I do represent trouble, and it is best I get out of your lands with all haste.”

            “Understood. I will take this to the King and relate your concerns. Captain, please escort Master Aelryinth to the higher launch floor, where he can more easily take his leave. Will there be anything you require of us?” Commander Tellusian replied quickly.

            “Minimal contact. I don’t want any of this rubbing off on you, and I’m not adept enough myself to escape any miscalculations, only personally withstand them.

            “If you want an idea of what can go bad, you can consider the orcish invasion and my arrival through it to be Doom and Destiny butting heads lightly in passing.”

            Both of them flushed in horror at the implied scale of what was truly going on.

            “I will clear the floors ahead of you,” Commander Tellusian said, and raced off, heading for a pair of guards, who in turn sped off with all due speed after his urgent orders, while the rest of the display hall emptied swiftly around us.

            “How bad will this be for me?” Captain Fyanyl asked nervously.

            “You’ve made no mention of the Empire or anything related, and the only echoes of Doom about you are those from the orcish incursion. Keep your silence and remove yourself from this place.

            “Destiny will have rubbed off on you for doing the right thing at the right moment when you did not have to. The Sorcery that you can master and bring to your people is likely the reward Destiny is delivering to you. Go home, master it, teach it to everyone who can learn it, and get stronger.”

            She shook slightly. “It sounds like you bring disaster, Master Aelryinth.”

            “Disaster was already here. Doom is already here. Doom called to Doom, built up enough, and it was coming.

            “Destiny cut into the fist that was descending, and chopped it clean off. I didn’t bring a disaster, I stopped one, but that hardly means Fate gives a flying fuck for what came before, Captain. It just shifts to a different tact and tries different things, and what you don’t want is those things happening here.” I tapped Mortus Dius on the marbled tiles beneath me, themselves a telling of an ancient legend of the elven gods here.

            “Is there a way to battle against this?” she asked quickly, daring me to say no.

            “Mortal Free Will is a great tool against it, as it motivates both Chance and opposing Fates to erode and destroy such pre-planned things. If your gods were able to intervene, it would be trivial to disperse such unthinking forces and let Free Will carry it all.

            “Things must be coming to a head, and that’s why Destiny brought me in. Too much accumulated chronal impetus.” I gave her another hard look. “Master that Sorcery and your Bloodline, Captain. That is the Destiny you can deliver your people now.”

            She took a deep breath and exhaled softly. “I understand. I will not fail them!” she stated firmly.

            “Good lass. Let’s get moving. I’m feeling an itch I don’t like, and I don’t want it to build into something that draws blood.”

            “Follow me, Magos.” She turned toward the same door Commander Tellusian had run out, but not at a hurried pace, making sure word traveled ahead of us to clear the corridors. “What manner of itch?” she had to inquire.

            “The orcs somehow managing to build another Gate on sacrifices of blood and it opening up on the outskirts of your city here?” I hazarded.

            She blanched horribly. “Gods in Hell…” she murmured, and her steps quickened. “Doom can take such actions, where the gods cannot?” she asked helplessly.

            “Law, Chaos, Good, and Evil occupy the highest orders of power across Creation,” I related to her calmly, taking in the art and history of the palace about me even as we hurried through it to connected areas dealing with the military. To my utter lack of surprise, not a single elf was in sight of me. “Just below Law are the three aspects of Time and preordained events: Fate, Destiny, and Doom. Divine powers exist at a level below those forces and concepts, effectively becoming aspects of them. But being able to stand in the river and perhaps direct some of the waters back and forth doesn’t make you as mighty as the river.

            “These are forces of Creation, they are very powerful, and they are as uncaring in their actions as a thunderstorm. The gods usually serve to disperse their focuses so they compete on ethereal, unseen levels, shaped by Free Will, but that is not happening here.

            “I have no wish to be involved in any sort of Prophecy, but this is not my choice. I’m riding the dragon, and now all I can do is hold on until it gets where it is going.”

            She laughed in spite of herself, while we moved quickly through halls bearing more somber monuments and artwork, all devoted to martial glory and the heroes of generations past. A gesture off to the side, and we were heading up a broad flight of circular stairs.

            “I would have liked to have spoken with you far more, Master Aelryinth, but it seems that would be taking a grave risk whose scale I am not equipped to deal with.”

            “I would have loved to teach you more, but the scale of what might be drawn to me for even such a slight delay to help your Destiny along is also not something I feel at all comfortable dealing with.

            “Remind your High Mages to scan for signs of another orcish incursion without fail, and their research efforts should be bent to subtly altering the arrival destination of the effort. I suggest several dozen miles offshore and under a thousand feet of water, and see how they like that.”

            Her emerald eyes glittered with appreciation. “I will make sure to tell them!” she agreed. “A tiny bit of help from Destiny…”

            “And let Free Will drive a sword into the damn shit!” I swore very seriously, and she laughed ruefully at the thought.

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