The Blood Knight

12- The lands beyond the desert

Cedric had always found Shepa to be a fascinating language. He would sometimes come across their ancient texts in old ruins and records in the tower archive. It was an ancient language developed well enough to be able to be used to write lenghtly sentences and the complexity of a language reflected the complexity and splendor of the civilization of the ancients that once roamed the lands. And there was always one phrase at the end of most texts.

"May you receive the light of wisdom from the great wiseman." 

That is the best interpretation Cedric could come up with. At first he thought it was a necessity for all texts and wondered it's meaning. It was a fellow scholar who studied ancient texts that suggested it might be a type of greeting, as they greated their royals with splendid names, the sentence might be a greeting infused with the values of the ancients. 

Their religion. 

The belief of one omnipotent being being the master of all things that exists and that he created the world with his boundless wisdom. 

From the reaction of the prisoner, Cedric could guess parts of his origins. The man seemed furious, as if he was using words Cedric didn't deserve to speak, as if a taboo was brought to the light. 

And Cedric could only think of one type of people who still revered the great wiseman. 

"What does it mean, Lord Oswain?" Prince Earic asked. He has studied a bit of the ancient tongue out of curiosity, but never paid it too much attention as it was a dead language already. 

"For one, he speaks the ancient tongue," Cedric replied. "And he also follows the ancient religion of the great wiseman." 

"No one follows that religion now. It's just a myth," Prince Earic replied. 

"Not to him," Cedric replied as he watched the prisoner glare at him. His instincts were telling his that the man wanted him dead, wanted to see the walls of the cell painted in red. There was such a deep rooted hatred that Cedric could not phantom the cause of it. 

"If I could make a bold guess, your highness, he is maybe from the west, maybe even beyond the desert."

"No one lives there," a guard from behind the prince. 

"To our knowledge, no," Cedric replied. He stepped away from the prisoner. 

"The west is inhabitable. Only fools would choose to live there," Prince Earic said, but his voice sounded a bit doubtful of his own words. He knew the man was not from their kingdom. He seemed to noble blooded for a citizen of Artaria. The ancients were known for their dark skin, whom migrated beyond the deserts to the eastern grasslands and forests to escape the heat only to clash with the pale skinned Shokrean ancestors.