Chasing the Prophecy
Page 57
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“The last of who?”
The guide considered Jason shrewdly. “How much do you know about the question you are asking?”
“Not a lot. But I was told by a trusted source that Darian has information for me.”
The guide narrowed his eyes. “How trusted is the source?”
Jason glanced over at Farfalee, who was conversing with a short, plump woman. “Hey, Farfalee. How much can I tell him?”
“Ask a guide to keep a conversation private and it will,” she replied. “Even so, do not divulge more than seems needful.”
Jason turned back to the old guide. “Do you have a name?”
“Bactrus.”
“I’m Jason. Bactrus, will you keep everything I tell you private?”
“Every patron has the right to privacy. I will protect that right, if you desire.”
“I do. I was told to come here by an oracle.”
Bactrus smiled patiently. “My boy, many profess the gift of prescience.”
“This was the oracle of Mianamon. The head oracle. She died to get the prophecy she shared with us.”
“Mianamon you say? A young sect of truth tellers, last I heard, but reputedly legitimate. Perhaps they have fallen into error in the intervening years. This library has sat dormant for centuries, you know.”
“I know. I’m pretty sure the oracle was legit.”
“Time will tell. What do you know of Darian? Have you other reasons for suspecting he survives?”
“Just the word of the oracle.”
“Allow me to furnish some general background. Like most individuals possessing abnormal skill with Edomic, Darian lived an extended lifetime. More extended than most wizards, in fact, which implies significant power. Thousands of years ago, toward the end of his career, already growing frail with age, Darian left his comfortable home in the city of Darvis Kur.”
“The Drowned City,” Jason interjected.
“You know something of our history,” Bactrus approved. “This was long before the incident with Pothan the Slow, but yes, I refer to the same Darvis Kur that now lies in the Sunken Lands. Darian left his comfortable home for a secret abode in the wilderness, where he planned to end his days.”
“Secret abode?” Jason asked. “How secret?”
“Most secret,” Bactrus emphasized. “The disappearance produced quite an uproar. You see, Darian was undisputedly the greatest seer Lyrian had known. Past, present, and future were open to him as to no other before or since. Fire aided his visions, earning him the secondary title of pyromancer. He had helped and guided the people of Lyrian for generations. He was old, but there were still years in him. In spite of that, he vanished abruptly and with little explanation, which spawned rumors for centuries.”
“What rumors?” Jason asked.
“Darian had many servants and disciples. Some claimed he had seen a vision of the place where he was supposed to die and that he had become obsessed with spending the remaining years of his life there. Others asserted he had been hoarding treasure over the years and wanted to die entombed with his riches. Some rumors even purported that Darian had found the secret to everlasting life and meant to prophesy in hiding until the end of time. These were some of the earliest and best documented assertions. Over the years there has been no shortage of additional speculation.”
“So he might be alive?”
The spectral guide chuckled. “It would be an unprecedented feat. No matter his ability, no matter how diligently he conserved his vigor, Darian should have perished millennia ago. But who is an old library guide to label anything impossible?”
“Did anyone ever find his last home?”
“You must understand, treasure hunters tried to uncover this secret for a thousand years before giving up. The last abode of Darian the Seer is the stuff of legend, a mirage that has been pursued by countless doomed expeditions. Respected oracles and seers have sought the final dwelling place of Darian, including several truth sayers he had personally trained, but their efforts yielded nothing. As with other such legends, the only claims of success over the years came from unreliable sources with little or no proof.”
“Now I get why you laughed earlier,” Jason said.
“I am glad you can empathize,” Bactrus said. “The hunt for the last abode of Darian the Pyromancer was abandoned as folly centuries before this library became dormant. I found it humorous that our first visitor in many long years came chasing such a far-fetched legend.”
Jason sighed. “The idea of finding the last home of Darian the Seer has become a joke.”
“It was a joke fifteen hundred years ago,” Bactrus said. “Now it has been so long that most have forgotten the idea was ever amusing.”
Jason glanced over at Farfalee. “The seed people I’m with knew of Darian, but they didn’t seem to know how absurd the quest for his home is considered.”
“Not surprising,” Bactrus said. “Compared to Darian, even the Amar Kabal are young. The quest you describe is a fool’s errand. The search for his final dwelling place has been long forgotten. Nevertheless, the name of Darian will endure forever. He truly was the greatest seer of all time.”
“Great enough that if he knew he could live forever, he might have moved away from Darvis Kur before the city flooded?”
Bactrus smiled. “An interesting observation.”
“Everyone may have forgotten this was ever a joke, but the oracle I spoke with was the real deal. Her predictions brought me here from the Beyond. She couldn’t see his home, but she seemed certain we could discover the location here. We don’t need the location to find treasure. We need it to learn a secret that can save Lyrian. Can you help me?”
“You have a flair for the dramatic,” Bactrus said. “And I have a soft spot for the enthusiastic pursuit of hopeless causes. Besides, my job is to serve as your guide. If this is the knowledge you seek, I shall do all in my power to aid you.”
“Where do we start?” Jason asked. “We don’t have much time.”
Bactrus furrowed his brow. “How long do you have?”
“We’re not sure,” Jason said. “Do you know what’s going on across Lyrian right now?”
“I know much of what is written here,” Bactrus said. “But I have learned nothing from outside since our last visitors arrived. The Maumet sealed us off from the rest of the world.”
“What happened to the people here?” Jason wondered.
The guide considered Jason shrewdly. “How much do you know about the question you are asking?”
“Not a lot. But I was told by a trusted source that Darian has information for me.”
The guide narrowed his eyes. “How trusted is the source?”
Jason glanced over at Farfalee, who was conversing with a short, plump woman. “Hey, Farfalee. How much can I tell him?”
“Ask a guide to keep a conversation private and it will,” she replied. “Even so, do not divulge more than seems needful.”
Jason turned back to the old guide. “Do you have a name?”
“Bactrus.”
“I’m Jason. Bactrus, will you keep everything I tell you private?”
“Every patron has the right to privacy. I will protect that right, if you desire.”
“I do. I was told to come here by an oracle.”
Bactrus smiled patiently. “My boy, many profess the gift of prescience.”
“This was the oracle of Mianamon. The head oracle. She died to get the prophecy she shared with us.”
“Mianamon you say? A young sect of truth tellers, last I heard, but reputedly legitimate. Perhaps they have fallen into error in the intervening years. This library has sat dormant for centuries, you know.”
“I know. I’m pretty sure the oracle was legit.”
“Time will tell. What do you know of Darian? Have you other reasons for suspecting he survives?”
“Just the word of the oracle.”
“Allow me to furnish some general background. Like most individuals possessing abnormal skill with Edomic, Darian lived an extended lifetime. More extended than most wizards, in fact, which implies significant power. Thousands of years ago, toward the end of his career, already growing frail with age, Darian left his comfortable home in the city of Darvis Kur.”
“The Drowned City,” Jason interjected.
“You know something of our history,” Bactrus approved. “This was long before the incident with Pothan the Slow, but yes, I refer to the same Darvis Kur that now lies in the Sunken Lands. Darian left his comfortable home for a secret abode in the wilderness, where he planned to end his days.”
“Secret abode?” Jason asked. “How secret?”
“Most secret,” Bactrus emphasized. “The disappearance produced quite an uproar. You see, Darian was undisputedly the greatest seer Lyrian had known. Past, present, and future were open to him as to no other before or since. Fire aided his visions, earning him the secondary title of pyromancer. He had helped and guided the people of Lyrian for generations. He was old, but there were still years in him. In spite of that, he vanished abruptly and with little explanation, which spawned rumors for centuries.”
“What rumors?” Jason asked.
“Darian had many servants and disciples. Some claimed he had seen a vision of the place where he was supposed to die and that he had become obsessed with spending the remaining years of his life there. Others asserted he had been hoarding treasure over the years and wanted to die entombed with his riches. Some rumors even purported that Darian had found the secret to everlasting life and meant to prophesy in hiding until the end of time. These were some of the earliest and best documented assertions. Over the years there has been no shortage of additional speculation.”
“So he might be alive?”
The spectral guide chuckled. “It would be an unprecedented feat. No matter his ability, no matter how diligently he conserved his vigor, Darian should have perished millennia ago. But who is an old library guide to label anything impossible?”
“Did anyone ever find his last home?”
“You must understand, treasure hunters tried to uncover this secret for a thousand years before giving up. The last abode of Darian the Seer is the stuff of legend, a mirage that has been pursued by countless doomed expeditions. Respected oracles and seers have sought the final dwelling place of Darian, including several truth sayers he had personally trained, but their efforts yielded nothing. As with other such legends, the only claims of success over the years came from unreliable sources with little or no proof.”
“Now I get why you laughed earlier,” Jason said.
“I am glad you can empathize,” Bactrus said. “The hunt for the last abode of Darian the Pyromancer was abandoned as folly centuries before this library became dormant. I found it humorous that our first visitor in many long years came chasing such a far-fetched legend.”
Jason sighed. “The idea of finding the last home of Darian the Seer has become a joke.”
“It was a joke fifteen hundred years ago,” Bactrus said. “Now it has been so long that most have forgotten the idea was ever amusing.”
Jason glanced over at Farfalee. “The seed people I’m with knew of Darian, but they didn’t seem to know how absurd the quest for his home is considered.”
“Not surprising,” Bactrus said. “Compared to Darian, even the Amar Kabal are young. The quest you describe is a fool’s errand. The search for his final dwelling place has been long forgotten. Nevertheless, the name of Darian will endure forever. He truly was the greatest seer of all time.”
“Great enough that if he knew he could live forever, he might have moved away from Darvis Kur before the city flooded?”
Bactrus smiled. “An interesting observation.”
“Everyone may have forgotten this was ever a joke, but the oracle I spoke with was the real deal. Her predictions brought me here from the Beyond. She couldn’t see his home, but she seemed certain we could discover the location here. We don’t need the location to find treasure. We need it to learn a secret that can save Lyrian. Can you help me?”
“You have a flair for the dramatic,” Bactrus said. “And I have a soft spot for the enthusiastic pursuit of hopeless causes. Besides, my job is to serve as your guide. If this is the knowledge you seek, I shall do all in my power to aid you.”
“Where do we start?” Jason asked. “We don’t have much time.”
Bactrus furrowed his brow. “How long do you have?”
“We’re not sure,” Jason said. “Do you know what’s going on across Lyrian right now?”
“I know much of what is written here,” Bactrus said. “But I have learned nothing from outside since our last visitors arrived. The Maumet sealed us off from the rest of the world.”
“What happened to the people here?” Jason wondered.
