THE BLIND KING

 THE BLIND KING

 

   Shimzabar had left all he ever knew behind because of a broken heart. Though they were never lovers, E’linacyl was his dearest friend. He had known her since his childhood of living in the caverns, of the razored Iron Hills of the west. When the hideous orcs had begun to return to their dank holes after the war’s end, the people fled in droves once again. E’linacyl was there with Shimzabar when they entered the abandoned elven city of Lindol hand in hand, for neither of them had parents.

   Shimzabar was terribly distraught the day he lost E’linacyl on the streets of the city. After two weeks of endless searching, he braved enough courage to cross the Great River’s walkway to search for her in the lower part of the city called Mithar. After joining the Mitharian tower cult, Shimzabar’s heart leaped for the greatest of joys upon finding his dearest friend. For E’linacyl too, was gravely distraught in having lost him and went searching as well. Like brother and sister from that time onward they never left the other’s side. Through many adventures, they grew up together and faced the most trying of experiences. They relied greatly on each other and in time even fell in love with one another. The day came in his heart that Shimzabar desired to take her as his bride. One day he confessed his love for her to his mentor Baalyick. They went to the Grand Gazebo, as his friend has seen her there earlier and desired to witness their union. But upon their arrival saw a gathering who were swooned in shocking grief for the young lady who lay dead in a pool of her own blood. Great was the weeping of Shimzabar! Long into the night, they tried to remove him from his embrace till exhaustion and grief left him numb. The King himself called for a day of mourning as all had lost that dreadful day.

 

   Before the mountain face of the dwarves’ triple Mount Jebul washed the Bay of Dim-bar, where the Blue River emptied. The Blue ran north for several leagues with four branching streams into the east. All of these were in the depths of the Norwood Forest. On the greater northern edge of Norwood, the Blue River began, and after its entry into the woods, an ancient people had once begun to weave vines from one bank across to the other. Generations of the unnamed later came and went who continued that which had once been started so long ago. The Vined Bridge of Norwood served to connect the road which cut through the forest, but in more recent times it became disused as better roads were constructed. Before the woodland’s edge a dry ravine ran for some distance and then became a trickling stream, and over this stream, that spanned the old bridge did Shimzabar find himself standing, still numb in his grief.

 

   “Welcome to the land of the blind, my name is Jared, and this sad lot of misfits call me their King! The lost wander here into this forgotten land, where the discarded are left. None are turned aside, and the dead never leave. I am the best of the worst, and we are the scrapes of whatever remained after the Great War to end them all. Come if you must, stay as you like, and help when you can.”

  “You seem to have that memorized.”

   “When memory is all one has anything new is called a good day.”

   “So, these are survivors of the war?”

   “If mere existence can be called surviving, we are just a few dregs who washed up here. There are far many other dregs who filtered off into the cities. Those who are far worse than these humbled folk, for they are called Kings, Mayors, Priests, and lords whose deep scares influence others with their own versions of pains unhealed.”

   “I am beyond sorry that you have all endured so much. It is understandable that the unlovingness of others leaves only bitterness.”

   “Bitterness makes one unapproachable, we have all moved beyond the pettiness of the old reality into the realm of acceptance. Well, except for Denarius over there, the poor fellow was disfigured by his wife for cheating, and he is just passing through.”

   “So, much for passing through, I have been here thirty-seven years with these cads!”

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STORY: THE DARK RITE

 THE DARK RITE

Four days after the Queen’s burial, King Koral sat upon his throne deep in thought. His grief was hard to endure. He felt an eroding change come over him, one that could not be undone. For his very being grew dark and his countenance fell in that unlit hall.

The Lord High Priest approached, “My lord, you sent for me.”

The shadows of the stained-glass windows gave no comfort to the seated man, “How we have gone astray, Jairus. Dark and corrupt, without even false hope to comfort us as are the dreary ways of men. For everyone seeks his own purpose at the neglect of others.” Then the King looked at the man standing before him, “Where did our fathers lose faith, and their fathers before them lose their confidence?”

The High Priest saw the King’s grief lay troubling on his face, “Sire, to return to the teaching of our forefathers – “

“Our forefathers were smarter than us for they clearly saw their goal ahead, so we were led to believe. We failed to board those ships to the celestial shores and stayed behind on these shores instead, yet in truth, I dare say it was with no clear agenda in mind, but the folly of fearful arrogance.” Koral’s inner struggle surfaced as his words were seasoned with bitterness, “Seems that we have all bought into the drifting sands of illusions, my friend.”

Shaking his head to the contrary, “Sire, ever does the doom of mortal death confront each of us to question our foundations. But it is, that which remains sure, that counsels us to be.” Jairus tried his best to console Koral’s heavy thoughts.

But the King felt he had been deeply betrayed, “We must find that which the Founding fathers once imparted to their children, and yet it somehow seems to elude us. If only we – I, could regain that bearing once more.”

“That is but the journey of all men to walk in growth, my friend” The priest’s words felt hollow.

“Yes, yes, I have heard all these things before, told to others and they fell short there too. Those are only trite words and poorly constructed distractions, given at the expense of the bothersome who weeps. If it is not for your own urgency to find answers, you sloth with bantering words about like sprinkled rose peddles, then heaping praise upon yourselves later for the good deed you have done!” The King took a drink of wine, adding, “I would rather you go off and conduct whatever your business was before than waste your breath on me. Enough of this pretense, Priest! I am full of such useless comfort for it sounds more like empty platitudes, like sand offered to a thirsty man.” Then with a darkening red face, Koral slowed to a whisper, “Consult the dead instead.”

The Priest felt uncertain about what he meant, “My lord?”

The King poured himself another full chalice, “Do not stand before me again until you or your Priesthood has devised a way to communicate with them.” Koral’s words resonated with authority.

“Them, sire?”

“Are you deaf now?”

“No, no, my king,” The High Priest stepped back sounding humble, “I ask only for clarification’s sake, my lord.”

“Then listen clearly to this, Jairus. Devise a method for contacting the dead Founders of this abandoned city, so that I may question them for myself and see my way ahead. For my heart is broken and life is meaningless.” His confidence returned briefly in the firmness of his voice.

The voice of the High Priest responded equally forceful, “Necromancy is a forbidden act that none may perform, no matter the one asking –. “

“It was not a request. I un-forbade it, and mandate it till accomplished,” Koral’s eyes blazed, unblinking in his gaze.

“That path is laden with manipulations and deceptions, my King. We must instead pray that Eru himself would aid us.“ The priest’s words were turned against him.

“We Kings allowed you, Priests, to thrive, and you, in turn, crafted the gods from thin air to control the weak-minded. I say to you once more and then am done, come to me only after you have devised a proven method of communicating with the dead. Tell me in detail about this method and then in one week thereafter show me that it works. I will judge for myself if I am being deceived, and if so, I will revel at your beheading, knowing the manipulations have ended! Now, be gone from my sight.”

Immediately, without a spoken word, the bowed man walked backward leaving the chamber.

Hours later, having confined in those he trusted most, Jairus made it clear that the King’s change of mind was serious and most unsettling, “No matter how this course of action is to be resolved I fear his reign shall be unlike his predecessors with ever dark days ahead.”

The stars, bones and stones, books and scrolls were all consulted, but no answer came. Even secret messengers were sent out in disguise to learn what they could. Weeks went by with no answers.

Then the Shaman, Kaf-anon from the village of Sinjar secretly replied to the Mitharian’s letter. He summonsed the Priest with an invitation. Indeed, a sure and proven method was known, but the last Mitharian King, Nuthcorlan, had placed a ban against what he called ‘The Dark Arts’. Though scarcely performed, it was known throughout their long history. Kaf-anon said,” It was a private ritual that came at a high cost, for the answers always held unforeseen consequences.”

Six weeks to the day after the Queen’s passing, the bells no longer sounded as the formal time of mourning had ended, but not Koral’s loss of her. It was then that the Lord High Priest of the Watchtower came and stood before the King of Eriduah, “My lord.”

“Come,” Koral’s demeanor seemed less grim than the last time they had met.

“You said to come only when a proven method was devised.”

He shook his head, “I am conflicted in my own mind.”

“Conflicted, sire?”

Koral ordered more wine to be brought in, “I am reconciled to remain lost. Foul dreams afflicted me too many nights since my harsh words to you, my friend.” He drained the chalice only to refill it again.

“Yes, my lord,” Jairus remained quiet trying to read his friend’s mood.

“Ah now I recall the terms, but you said a method was devised?” Koral sat forward on his throne with squinted eyes reading the man before him in turn. “What were the results?”

“The Sinjarian Shaman shared a long-used ritual and the details of the properties needed, which are many, sire.”

The King sat back, and waved his hand dismissively, “Let us forego the boring intricacies, for they can be used as easy distractions. Have you done this - thing?

“After a private messenger returned with news, I seek out this Kaf-anon for myself. I gave him thirty pieces of gold and your King’s pardon from the ban. Only then he did perform it in my presence.

“A woman of his village had many husbands, and each, in turn, had died leaving her to the next brother in line. She sought from the Shaman to know if her first husband approved of all the following marriages, and where his hidden gold lay. The Shaman-Witch called for a goat to be slain and its ashes poured out upon a naked child who was severely beaten, and unrelated to the woman. After many rounds of drumming, the child fell to the ground in a horrible, frightening fit, my lord. Then, with a man’s voice, the child told the woman where her first husband had buried their household goods. He had sworn his brothers into caring for her. The first husband was most pleased that she had born a son to each of his following brothers.”

The King sat for a moment and then, “So, you need a goat and child, then?”

“Sire, such cruelty must not,” the priest’s words were cut short.

“Are you able to perform this challenge in my presence, and to my satisfaction or not?” The King’s words demanded a reply.

“Sire, the mechanics of the ritual – yes, my lord.” The High Priest saw Koral desired only one answer, and it, without excuse or delays.

“Well done, Jairus. Bully for you indeed, my friend. Set it all in motion for me to observe in – say, four days’ time. Remember, priest, longtime friendship or not, your neck remains in question. Do you understand me?”

“Clearly understood, my King. In four days shall you witness it and question the Founding fathers for yourself. My neck has always been yours, sire.”

Three days later a summons had been sent out to each one of the seven major cities throughout the realm, hand delivered by Guardian Overseers themselves. It was to be opened precisely at the noon hour. The mandated invitations were addressed to the Key Elders alone, with strict reminders of their sworn oaths. Within that very hour, they were accompanied by the Guardians for a return trip to Varlendur. None were told the purpose of the trip, not even the Guardians were made aware. The Seven Elders summonsed were: Nadan of Mithar, Dollenshan of Elosh, Giladon of Mishvek, Saha-ishden of Uruk, Ba’Nashma of Sinjar, Bollo of Kathos, and Gil’galashman of Lindol. Each of the men came wearing the Tome-Key about their neck.

The market of Mithar was lined with city guards, and when the call came the streets were cleared for the seven wagons as they followed one after the other, rushing toward the Watchtower of Varlendur. The Guardians escorted the Key Elders to an empty throne room. From there a single Knight lead the Elders alone through the staircase to the Round Chamber, just below the topmost deck where there burned the eternal flame of the Watchers.

Three other Knights, of the King’s private guard, stood in the hallway. The Key Elders saw that their chosen ministerial servants had been summoned ahead of them. They stood silently along the wall, in order, and each one held out a folded black, and gold trimmed robe for the Elders to don. While they dressed, the Knight reminded them to remain silent, “I will knock on the door, only after you hear three knocks in reply may you enter in silence.” The Elders waited. The Captain of the Guards knocked, then resumed his station.

A long while passed.

Three knocks came, loudly and slowly.

Opening the door and acting as their guide was the messenger of the Lord High Overseer, Gelos. Upon entering the chamber, they immediately saw his majesty, the King sitting in a chair, and his female scribe, Lydia beside him on a floor mat. Scribes never left their King’s side and were ever writing on their tablets, even the most insignificant of things. Those who entered realized this was to be no small event as even royalty had come to preside over the secret ritual as a witness.

Without a word, Gelos gestured for the men to follow him. Seven high candle stands were lit, and a circle of salt had been drawn on the floor with the lamps just outside the line. Silence and candle flame thickened the mood as the door was shut behind them, well-guarded. Each of the Key Elders had their names drawn before the lampstands and were directed to stand in place. Beyond where they stood were two more circles, also drawn in salt. In the middle of the chamber’s triple circles there stood a stone table, mid-chest high, with a strange multisided box in the middle.

After the Elders had taken their station, Minister Gelos spoke, “Gathered here in the sacred space let our hearts plead to be heard, that the smoke of this incense is as those prayers ascending unto them who listen to all things.” With that, he took the oil lamp from the alter and lit a bowl of incense. Its sweet aroma pillared up in a thin stream.

It was then the Lord High Overseer spoke for the first time, “Welcome Key Elders from each of the seven cities of the realm. This is a summonsing rite by which the invocation of the ages may be heard.

“Brothers, one after another and by your sworn oaths, come with the key in hand and turn the lock denoted by its icon.” The seven-sided box resembled an upside-down gemstone. Having done so they returned to their station as before. “The locks of this chest were designed by the same smith who crafted those of your Tomes.” When the final key of Lindol had been inserted and turned serval clicks were heard, and its lid opened.

The Lord High Priest Jairus slowly opened the lid removing it altogether. Within it was a smaller chest made of dark mahogany, inlaid with silver vines and leaves. It was then Jairus removed a key from within his own shirt and opened the smaller box. Opening it he then removed yet another box that was the size of his hand, from tip to heel. It was very ornate and shaped almost like a huge oval. The Lord High Priest Jairus announced, “Behold! The Almond Seed. Within is all that remains of the Holy Dead, the ashes of our most beloved founding fathers.” He then slipped off the cover and carefully sprinkled a delicate portion into one half of a white shell that sat on the altar. From a brilliant brass bowl, the High Priest used the side of a knife blade to take a portion of powder and pour it onto the ashes, “These are the ashes from the spent, funeral incense mixed with new.” Then he poured from a jade vessel blood mixed with olive oil, “The blood of the High Priests before me, and the virgin press from the King’s tree. These we mix together, the old and new, from them to us, unto the here and now. By the unspeakable name of Eru-Illuvatar, I thus invoke their voices through time to be among us now!” Everyone in the room, except the King and Scribe covered their faces in their hands. It was then the High Priest ignited the incense mixture using the flame of a lamp on the altar. The herbal smoke streamed upward and dissipated. Jairus glanced over at King Koral, then up at the ceiling above the alter, and said,

“Unto you ancient Fathers, Mothers.

come now you Watchers before these others,

manifest your voice before our eyes,

prick our hearts with solemn cries,

that we plead our gravest needs!”

It was at that very moment the flames of the seven lampstands blew out. Yet its ascending smoke took on the radiance of a pale moon’s light, as did the incense smoke on the altar table. Everyone watched in awe as the smoke formed a great dome over those gathered within the salted-protective circle. They remained with wide eyes even as the indistinct voices of several people whispering could be heard. From the streaming smoke of the incense, a rotating pillar began to form and grew in stature. Its light pulsed with the whispering words. The many voices blended to become the single voice of a woman, “Wh, wh, why, why have you so conjured us back to this side among the living? Why have you disturbed the grace of our serene peace in unimaginable bliss with Him? Who hath done this crime against the reward of our bliss?” The smoke was undecided on how it should appear, as a male or female. Then the body and face of a woman took shape and resembled the beauty of the ancient Lady! Her voice and tone grew in reproach and scorn, “Come forth, you instead, and reveal thy form and explain the abomination of this mockery you have shamed us into becoming! Know well that we will not be your slave, beck, and call! Speak, why?”

Jairus tried to sound confident, but everyone heard the dread in his voice, “Nay sacred mother, Lilikiss! Forgive this intrusion upon your favored reward, our only boon is to know where falls our next step in the goal of your vision for your children, we prayerfully ask?”

It was that ancient mother, in all her glory! Yet miss shaped as a whisp of glowing smoke. Her beauty had succumbed to her wrath with a face admonishing in terror, “Shame on you for this defilement of what remains of that shell wherein we once walked, in that now passed away realm! Forbidden such matters are, unthinkable to conceive, yet I will not bow unto your demanded request of us. When in our living state did, we not leave words penned for you to recall? Did we not live lives by which examples were laid? Yes, on both accounts, and if you disregard them, this mode will do you none the better good. You are but a heedless lost generation, vile among yourselves in having thrown away all that we once were for a world turned upside down! Foolish children bother us no more as these seeds shall see what befalls you now. Be gone and study what has left you or forget us altogether, but in all things leave us to our time.”

It was then King Koral stood up, “But my Lady!”

She shouted, “NEVER AGAIN!” A tremendous wind rushed down vanquishing the dome of smoke. The windowless chamber went black, then echoed with noise. A breath later and all the lamps and candles blazed to life once more. Bodies lay strewed about, moaning. The seven Elders had been thrown backward, landing on the floor and up against the walls with bleeding heads. The salted-protective circles were blown away, littering the floor in disarray. The Ministerial Overseer and High Priest lay toppled on one another. Even the King himself lay on his side with the collapsed remains of his broken chair beneath him. It was only the nine-year-old girl who stood, uninjured beside the King’s feet.

Koral called out, “Guards!” The four knights instantly burst through the unlocked door with swords drawn. “Kill all the priests leave none, alive!”

But it was the soft voice of Lydia who disarmed them all, “Stop - being the man, and be the king.”

All were frozen where they entered, Koral looked from the girl to the startled soldiers, “Belay that command.” At which they complied, sheathing their weapons and began helping the robed men to their feet. No one spoke a word as they heard Koral’s voice crack, “I have my answer now, and I – your king, was wrong in his asking. Forgive a foolish, grief-stricken old man. But I am sorely afraid that I have brought down wrath upon us all. The very walls themselves shall not go unchanged.” Gathering himself off the floor Koral nodded to the High Priest and then left the room. His Scribe and private guards followed close behind in silence.

STORY LINE

Strangers who entered the realm of Eriduah [in the west of the world], were quickly noted for being different. Immigrants were referred to by the residing people as the worldly, goat-like, wayward, the unknowns; but those who became citizens of the realm were called The Remembered of The Gathering. If a citizen refused to continue in the religious system they would be scorned, and shunned for being “Apostates”, betrayers of the faith. To be a citizen one had gone to the city of Mithar [the Remembered] and stand before the King to publicly request salvation. Of one’s own free willingness they had to attend the Houses of Learning, built at the base of the Lighthouse called Varlendur [Tower of Strong Friends].

Only having ascended through the Watchtower’s Four Houses could a person earn the possibility of eternal salvation from the Doom to come. The diamond tattoo on the left hand denoted the completion of the four degrees, which declared Eru’s favor upon their merits. Only through this divinely ordained system were new immigrants taught: the language of Sinquinto, the history, and religion of Mithar, basic trade skills, and tutors to teach them to others. Of these servants, those who were serious about obtaining passage through the end of the world to come accepted the Rings of Fellowship. To the uninitiated, the rings were mere symbols of devotion, but from that class were the spiritual leaders chosen. These were the Anointed Candidates of the higher calling. They first began as Scribes, who would meticulously reproduce copies of the oldest documents, these in turn would be known as Holy Text.

The Holy Texts were all of the original documents and letters of the Founding Fathers. They wrote and spoke of creating a new people after the end of The Great War, and the mass exile of the ancient elves. Later these, along with oral traditions and celebrations were mandatorily gathered and re-edited; in what came to be known as The Great Purge. These heavily standardized copies were represented as especially bounded Seven Volumes of Truth. These were gifted from the King’s Priest to the seven largest cities of the realm of Eriduah, those being: Mithar, Elosh, Mishvek, Uruk, Sinjar, Kathos, and Lindol. It was the second King, Legandriel who commissioned a Meeting Hall to be constructed in each one of the seven cities. The Halls were to be exact duplicates of The Great Hall in Mithar. They housed the sacred library, where everyone in the city or realm could come read, study, and discuss the works openly for themselves.

Under the reign of the fourth King, Koral came what was to be called The Second Purge or The Organization of the Order of the Brotherhood. It began with replacing the seven ancient volumes with a single tome. It also came with a new structure of leadership which was greatly diminished to just a few men, as women were to be submissive with no teaching role. Women could only be Scribe, and in their youth only. The ritualistic tattoo markings were done away with, yet the Rings of Fellowship were retained. Few of the old, the anointed class were reappointed into the new organization. The Order had Ministerial servants, who answered to the Council of Elders, who answered to Guardian Overseers, who reported to the High Overseer, who was the second to his Lordship High Priest. The Lord High Priest was the spiritual advisor to the King, Eru’s hand upon the land.

Every three years the Order of the Brotherhood held their Great Assemblage within the city of Mithar. Other cities desired to hold these mass gatherings, yet none could house the whole of the seven Halls. Uruk could have but its Lord, Katamel-hada sought plans of his own rulership, but that is lore for another telling.

The time of the Assemblage became more than continuing to retain or appoint new members of the Elder’s Council and Overseers but making changes called doctrines and New Light. Only in the Meeting Halls did the local people gather, but during the great Assemblages, everyone was thrilled to meet others in the Truth of Varlendur. Songs were sung, and over time these and the special talks delivered by Silas, the Master Quill, were heard and recorded. The detailed clarifications that Silas espoused as a new light, in view of recent understandings and events were like exciting news for the people to share. These, Pages of Silas, were later produced and added to the Sacred Tome. They greatly encouraged the study of Varlendur’s own growing history and re-interpretations of ancient lore. The God Eru slowly shared with Men, through His sole Channel of communication called, The Mouthpiece of Eru a progressive and developing view of his grand plan. But the vile influences of the Dark Lord had stained the hearts of men much like the lands had been desolated in war. A final cleansing by Eru himself was coming and only the faithful would be saved from his wrath, with the guidance and leadership of his Mouthpiece! Such is the Mitharian truth.

THE VISITOR And the First Elders

 THE VISITOR

And the First Elders

A black House wagon, gilded in solid gold arrived before the Meeting Hall of the township of Elosh, which lay north on the river Luhn. Upon hearing the wagon’s approach an Elder came outside and welcomed the visitors from the city of Mithar.

The driver opened the door letting two men, and a twelve-year-old girl out. One of them asked, “Greetings Brother?”

“Elder Benas, sir.”

“I am Minister Mios, from the Watchtower of Varlendur.” The emissary did not introduce the man alongside him but began heading to go inside the building.

It was then, “Oh, come in brothers, and be refreshed,” Benas gestured toward the Hall where they were already heading. “There are two other Elders who await inside. I had just shared with them the letter from an Overseer Gil`nuso. Forgive us, we anticipated your arrival tomorrow.”

Inside, Brother Benas led them to a back room where two men promptly rose from their seats at a long table. “These are Elder Moldrey and Elder Albadon. These are Brothers from Varlendur – a day early.” After acknowledging and offering seats, Benas took a seat with his two companions, opposite the standing visitors.

A young girl was left unintroduced, but everyone knew her to be a member of the Scribal Sister’s Order for she was baldheaded, and her fingertips were as black as the wagon outside. She immediately took a seat at the head of the table and began writing everything on her tablet. She nodded to an older man caring a heavy chest.

“Thank you Emylah. Again, I am Minister Mios, from the Watchtower of Varlendur. From there a new light, as with all understanding shines out upon the land; an adjustment in doctrine is now being shared. The new adjustment pertains to the order of things. Let it be known that the city of Mithar leads the way in accepting, without question this new light, and Elosh is now the second in our tour of the realm. This is the truth from the Mouthpiece of The One - Eru.”

The three Elders spoke in unison, “Praise the Unspeakable Name.” The others bowed their heads respectfully with the recitation.

The Messenger began, “Let me summarize where we are today and in our continuance of the truth. The Great Purge saw the collection of many original documents, and those found to be inconsistent with copies and mistaken translations by others of those texts we hold dear to be most remarkable. Our histories are the stories of our humility before The One, and those records were bound as the Seven Volumes.” It was then Messenger placed the heavy chest on the table in front of the three seated men. From inside his shirt, Mios removed a silver key on a long chain necklace. After unlocking the iron reinforced chest, he removed a huge tome that was banded and locked, beside it he laid the key to the box. “This is a most prized gift from Varlendur. I present it to you, the people of Elosh: THE BOOK OF THRIYEL, ‘Legacy’ of Eru-Illuvatar.” At the pronunciation of the Holy Name of God, everyone bowed their heads, covering their face with both hands.

The Messenger continued, “This one book is the same material which made up the Seven bound volumes. From them was this one tome created, and trustworthy for its accurate text, and presented for detailed study. There are several exquisitely drawn, laced panels that will make excellent teaching tools for children and persons new to our traditions. No expense was spared, and the most skilled artist and scribes worked on each beautifully illuminated page which too two years to complete. The book must be carefully handled for that reason, and for its message contained therein. Henceforth this ‘Legacy’ is now the only authorized and recognized version of our most Sacred Texts. Here is a letter from King Koral himself acknowledging such, and by his name and seal is his royal endorsement of the wonderfully crafted book. This one volume shall be the sole work, acceptable for sacred worship, by which those who Gather in his Lordship’s Hall may so Study as the sacred text.”

At this point one of the silent Elders, Moldrey spoke up, “Forgive me for asking, Minister Mios, but are we correct in seeing that this tome is banded and locked? Are not the special writings open for reading and discussion by everyone in attendance?”

It was at that moment that Mios turned around and looked back at the tall, unintroduced hooded figure. His face was still concealed in shadow. The hood nodded silently as Mios turned back around to face the three seated men. “Gentlemen, this concludes my obligation of service in presenting the Holy Gift of Varlendur. I now introduce my companion, this is Gil`nuso.”

Even as Miso stepped backward Gil`nuso took his position and removed his hood, showing his face for the first time to be that of a much older man. His white beard was groomed and his tone pleasant, “Greeting Brothers. I am Gil`nuso. I am also the right-hand man of the Lord High Priest Shellenthar. In his stead, when you see me, you see the sole representative of his Lordship’s High Priest himself. I am his direct representative, minister, and messenger. From here on you shall only address me as Lord High Overseer or High Overseer Gil`nuso, Brother is also nice,” he smiled.

It was then that the High Overseer removed from inside his own shirt, and off his neck a key that hung on a very long twisted gold chain. With the key held up, he added, “Here is the only key that will unlock this tome from its band.” After unlocking it they noticed the band was a part of the tome’s cover. Continuing, “Allow me to now clarify the details of this new light adjustment. These are the instructions for reorganizing The Brotherhood of Mithar. Listen well, this is indeed a most auspicious occasion and one that may very well prove to never come again. Only you three men, here in the township of Elosh are being offered the role of continuing to be Elders or you may step down with no reprisal of banishment by shunning. Being held in such high esteem by the Lord High Priest, stepping down now will afford you great standing in the gathering of the brothers of faith. You would be resources of insightful wisdom for those who take over as Elders.” He raised a finger, seeing questions were about to be raised, “From henceforth or until further instructional new light is presented, are the terms of Eldership as the delegated hands of the Lord High Priest himself here in Elosh. There shall only be three Elders at a time in a single gathering. Each Elder is to have one assistant. The assistant of the Elder shall be addressed as Minister of that Elder. Only these Ministers shall be viewed as potential candidates for the Office of Elder. Now, to the Elders. They shall be the same rank in status as no one is above another, yet they alone may preside and teach the gathering in this Meeting Hall.”

At this, the High Overseer Gil`nuso placed another sheet of parchment in front of the three men. A description detailed their duties, and three lines denoting where their signatures were to go. The High Overseer then placed an ink well and a decorative silver blue quill beside the page. He said, “The Elder may only serve in his office for three years and at the end of which will only then be reinstated to continue by myself or my representative. These are the three titles and duties of the offices:

The Key Elder. He alone possesses, wears, and uses the only key which opens this Tome of Elosh, for there are no other keys in all the realm like it. The Key Elder may allow those whom he chooses alone or offered by the two other officers to read from this book. The Tome of Elosh may be read and viewed only in this Hall of Meeting. The Tome may not be withdrawn from the Hall, unless by special permission granted by myself or my representative. Anyone of choice may study this book here in this room for as long as mutually agreed upon. Anyone of choice may be invited to read aloud to the gathering but know now only the three Elders may clarify the doctrine of the texts’ meaning, as approved by Varlendur alone. Is this office of the Key Elder understood?”

The three men agreed they understood what was being read as it was the same from the parchment that sat before them. The Lord High Overseer Gil`nuso continued:

The Scribe Elder is the second office directly appointed by Varlendur. The Elder Scribe shall note when the book is opened and by whom. If any comments were offered by them such shall be noted as well, especially after any clarifications were shared by any of the Elders present.” The High Overseer laid down two leather journals for the office, saying, “Only such notes must be composed in the Scribe’s Journal, provided by Varlendur.”

It was the only time they heard Emylah, the Scribe speak, “These journals are the property of the sisters of the Holy Quill, and as such shall your every word is poured over and discussed at length.”

The High Overseer smiled and continued, “Once a week it shall be the responsibility of the Scribe Elder to send word of those in attendance here in the Hall, for the sole purpose of teaching and worship of The One’s truth. Is this office of the Scribe Elder understood?”

The three men agreed they understood what was being read as it was the same from the parchment that sat before them. The Lord High Overseer Gil`nulso continued:

“The Key Elder is the third office of the Council Body. It shall be the task of the Keeper of THE BOOK OF THRIYEL of Elosh to do just that, keep the book safe. The Tome must be housed in its chest and secured at all times when not being used. Here is the Keeper’s key and its chest as well.”

The Lord High Overseer opened the inkwell, “The term of each office shall be held for a period of one year, in the end, on the anniversary of their signature shall they rotate responsibilities. The Keeper shall become the Scribe and he, in turn, shall assume the duties of the Key Elder, and he, in turn, shall become the Keeper.” He paused, exhaled then said, “Now, comes the hard-pressed time to ask questions as I now request those in this room who would step up and accept these offices as presented and the severe penalty of apostasy.”

Brother Benas asked, “If the book is not to leave the Meeting Hall, is the person responsible for the chest allowed to take it home?”

“Excellent question, they may indeed, brother Benas,” Gil`nuso smiled for his response.

Then Brother Moldrey asked slowly, “There was mention of a severe penalty with emphasis placed on the word ‘apostasy’. I was wondering what the Lord High Overseer’s meaning was specifically regarding this topic?”

Again Gil`nuso smiled for the participation of questions, “Another wonderfully worded inquiry brother Moldrey, most astute! It is in line with our current teaching that the fellowship of the Gathered not be tainted by the false teachings of outsiders. Shunning is held in that light as those who have banished themselves for not conforming to the high callings of Varlendur’s truth. Apostasy is the willful arrogance of turning against The One and Always himself, and thusly decreed by his earthly representative in Varlendur that nothing less than death is held for those who do not turn back to HIM. As I said before, this is indeed a most auspicious occasion and one that may very well prove to never come again. Only you three men are in this room being asked, what say you?” He slid the parchment closer. Of their own free will did they accept the terms of the Eldership of their city. One by one they signed the document, which in turn was quickly taken up by the High Overseer’s Minister, Mios.

“Splendid! King Koral was right indeed to foresee such loyalty here in Elosh. Freely accepted! Wonderful, wonderful, that went very well. Congratulations, and welcome to the Order of the Mitharian Brotherhood, gentlemen. Now for the appointments.

“Brother Benas, you shall be Elosh’s first Keeper Elder.” The Lord High Overseer slide the still closed book over to him, and gave him the silver key, “The sign of your office.” He closed and locked the iron-clad wooden chest and smiled.

“Brother Albadon, you shall be Elosh’s first Scribe Elder.” The Lord High Overseer handed him the silver-tipped blue Quill, “The sign of your office.” Along with the inkwell and two journals.

“Brother Moldrey, you shall be Elosh’s first Key Elder.” The Lord High Overseer handed him the golden Key, “The sign of your office.” The key was the only key in all the realm to open the Tome’s lock.

“Ah, some additional details. To assist you with your new duties you will need to offer up six names as potential candidates to perform the role of Ministerial servants.” Looking directly at Albadon he said, “The Scribe Elder must correspond with Varlendur using only this servant as a messenger. He shall prove to be a most vital link between us. If, at the end of your three-year rotation you desire to step down one of the three may replace you, and the unpicked candidate, if still suitable may be appointed to the new ministerial position.”

Mios cleared his throat. Gil`nuso glanced back at him with a smile, “Yes, yes, thank you, for the reminder Brother Mios. For one month there will be no meetings held here in the Hall. You three may pour over the book’s details for as long and as much as you desire. Remember your scribe, and send any questions that may arise now or from time to time. Be at ease brothers, questions only bring light. From here on feel free to use the new reference marking of this book in your correspondences.

“In four weeks, time a representative of mine shall arrive. He will be ready to publicly announce all that occurred here and make formal appointments. I only ask that you say nothing of this visit’s details as all shall be laid to bear. Remember to send those candidate names, Scribe Elder Albadon.”

Turning to leave, the High Overseer glanced back at the three newly appointed elders, but spoke to his servant, “Mios, be sure to collect the Seven volumes from off the shelf there as these brothers here have a much better copy to learn from. Until next time, we will see ourselves out gentlemen.” With that and no refreshments taken the three of their guests left as they came.

Albadon said as the wagon’s dust began to settle, “I think we just witnessed a great change beginning to happen.”

Benas agreed, “I think we became a part of whether we wanted to or not.”

Moldrey nervously laughed at the other two, “Freely accepted – right brothers?” At that moment each of them instantly knew what tool was to bring about the real change to come; they felt themselves questioning the other’s intentions but said nothing openly of them.

In each of the seven cities of Eriduah this same meeting was carried out and appointments made. On the Day of Appointments, the Guardians over all those within their own appointed cities occur at the same time and on the same day. There was great joy in the unity of the Mitharian Brotherhood in the realm of Eriduah.