Eternal Beasts

Nomads

A wink of light, then he was kneeling on a second set of portal stones, this one set on a windswept plateau a thousand kilometers to the direct west. Heaving a sigh of relief, he looked up. And found a dozen steel headed arrows pointed at him from a couple paces away.

"Uh oh," he murmured.

"You've come a long way to die, nysim," a hard voice declared in westerling, the language the humans on Ethaeron spoke.

Looking past the arrows, Jared's eyes narrowed to find himself looking at several individuals in camouflage-painted leather, their faces also painted, the camouflage making it hard to identify their race. But there was no mistaking those almond-shaped eyes and arching brows.

"Have I, nomad?" he asked, pushing aside his dismay. He also spoke westerling before switching to Iesho, the language of the light elves and their kin.

"Are not the Traveling People and the nysim allies in the Light?" And he frowned as he felt the statues in his satchel begin to emanate enough heat, he could feel it against his hip. What made them suddenly come to life? Him mentioning the Light??

"A thousand years ago, maybe," the speaker growled, also switching to Iesho.

"Then, let me ask you this before you unceremoniously ventilate me. Would any nysim that bend the knee to the Harbingers use the ancient portal stones to jump so deeply into your territory as I just did, even if they retained the knowledge to do so? And would they have a knowledge of Iesho enough to speak it?"

When the speaker didn't reply and the bows stayed aimed at him, Jared frowned. Then, holding his hands where they could be seen, he slowly stood.

"By the Trees!" a new voice exclaimed from behind the wall of archers. "You're no nysim of the plains. Not with that height. Are you mageborn?"

"No," Jared replied. "Nor am I Nysim-suru."

"Then what are you?" the second voice demanded to know.

"He has a satchel with several objects in them," the first voice pointed out. "Perhaps one will tell us what this man is."

"Good point," the second voice conceded. "Stranger, empty your satchel onto the ground. And do so with care; any sudden moves and we'll turn you in a wind chime."

Wind chime. Jared fought not to smile as he brought his satchel around to the front. That was good. He'd have to remember that one.

Thankfully it only took one object from the satchel to get the nomads to lower their bows: the book.

Even as Jared pulled it from his satchel, the bows were dropping.

"The Watcher!" one of the archers breathed in astonishment.

"I thought it was lost, sent into the ether to keep it from being taken!" another said, the archers to the vadu standing with eyes wide as Jared carefully put the massive volume onto the ground.

He then looked up as another nomad pushed his way forward to first look at the book, then up at Jared, who stood nearly a hand taller.

"The great Watcher, the living history of our world," he said tautly, revealing himself as the second speaker. Unlike the others, while he wore leathers, they weren't camouflage-painted like the archers. Still, they had the look of both ruggedness and comfort, speaking to the skill of the leatherworker who made them.

"How did it come into your possession, stranger?"

It was the book that decided to provide the answer.

- I appeared in his room, Pathfinder Seth, - the book said in a matter-of-fact voice, obviously addressing the nomad in front of him, even though Jared could hear it.

"You appeared ..." the nomad named Seth by the book abruptly paled before stuttering into silence. Then, at a hand gesture, the nomads were dropping to a knee, heads bowed and a fist pressed to the ground opposite the knee.

- Okay, book, what's going on? - Jared asked with a frown.

- We just triggered a prophecy amongst the Lucht Taistil, - the book said, its tone thoughtful. - One that speaks of your return to Ethaeron heralded by you appearing with me in your company. Which, of course, also announced the next War of Balance is nearly upon the world and you, as the Lord of Griffons will lead the Light to victory! -

"Huh," he said out loud. "No pressure or anything."

Then Seth raising his head recaptured Jared's attention.

"My Lord of Griffons," he said formally. "I am Pathfinder Seth Forestsong. Welcome to this humble encampment of the Lucht Taistil. May I presume you used the portal stones to travel from the Shrine of Forgotten Futures to here, the Skyguard Overlook?"

"Uh, yes. Yes, I did," Jared replied.

"Then you've successfully retrieved the relics."

"Yes," Jared said, frowning as they once again warmed enough for him to feel the heat through his clothing.

"And the darklings attempted to stop you?"

"Much to their chagrin," Jared said with a thin smile.

"Ah." A fleeting smile of satisfaction raced across his weathered but still handsome, classically elven face before Seth schooled it back to grim seriousness. "The servants of the Harbingers have long sought the shrine in an attempt to block your reemergence, my Lord of Griffons. The Light rejoices in their failure."

- With the relics now in his lordship's possession, you know what we must now do, Pathfinder Seth, - the book then said, its tone also formal.

"Yes, great Watcher. He must travel to Findais, the last standing city of the Tuatha Fáil, the People of Destiny."

Seth looked from the book back to Jared.

"Where the Lord of Griffons will participate in the ritual to awaken those that have awaited his return."

Jared absorbed that as Seth bowed. The book, sorry, the great Watcher, hadn't mentioned any specific ritual he would have to perform to wake his mount and the elven princess with which he was supposed to father one of the first two griffon riders with. But he was willing to bet it was in the part that talked about his return.

It didn't really matter. He was already resigned to that part of his fate. But it sounded like he was about to go back on the road. To the city whose death had haunted his dreams for over twenty years, the visions driving him clinically insane.

So the irony wasn't lost on him that the path of rebirth and life for the griffon flights would start in a city he watched die over and over.

- Is there a nearby set of portal stones we can take to the city, now that we've got the relics from the Shrine? - he asked.

But it was the nomad pathfinder that answered.

"Your lordship must be tired and hungry from his journey to the shrine," Seth said with a smile as he and his archers rose back to their feet. "Please, allow me to extend to you the hospitality of my caravan. We have food aplenty, a place for you to sleep, and even a passable ale from our traveling brew wagon."

Jared's brow lifted.

"It sounds like you're planning on having me around for a while, Pathfinder," he noted. And he frowned when Seth nodded.

"It will be our duty and our honor to escort you to Findais, Lord of Griffons," the nomad leader indicated. "As it was laid out in the codices of conduct."

He then made a gesture to his left.

"Our camp is this way, my Lord," he indicated even as the other nomads turned to start walking that way. "If you would be so kind as to follow me, I will take you there."