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EST’IT AND ISRI TRAVELED in a large covered caravan pulled by horses to the mountain town of Ialo. Ialo laid to the west of Cerynian. The legend says that Ila, once a village elder of Cerynian, disagreed with the Raelisuir in charge and moved away along with half of the village right before Lye-Ashe, patron goddess, arrived to save the village.
Ialo and its inhabitants moved close to the mystical falls in an enclosed mountain area. They felt they were much protected and renounced all ties to any immortals. For a few years, they did well and even prospered a little, but then something horrible happened to the village and everyone died. No one really knows what happened, but the village was razed to the ground. To this day, heads still sit on pikes outside the decaying village walls as a warning to all that pass there.
When Isri first laid eyes on the pikes she averted her gaze quickly. It was not that she was afraid, but she never really liked to see death and decay. Of course, that is odd for someone that has the ability to control the death and decay and bend it to their will.
Est’it saw the look of pain in her eyes and immediately was concerned. He did not think that Isri would have a problem with the death and decay knowing what he did about her. “My lady, are you alright? Do you wish to turn around?”
Isri didn’t want to ruin the day so she quickly gathered herself before she replied. “No, I am quite fine. I just did not expect the faces to be so twisted with pain. I may be able to control bones at times, but I am still human and hate to see human suffering. That is all. I will be fine.”
In part, that was a lie, but Isri was so charmed by the prince that she wanted to continue with him even though her body screamed to turn around and run.
Est’it motioned to his entourage that he saw the location that he wished to visit first. It was a sacred circle lined with stones. He found it rather odd that a people that had no immortal patrons would have need for a sacred circle. The glyphs were odd. He motioned for Isri to come over.
“Have you ever seen a glyph like this Isri? Are you able to translate it?”
Isri looked down. It was a very ancient form of Cerynian script. It was crude. Some of the writing had worn away, but it appeared to be a protection spell. “It appears to be a spell of protection or binding. It is rather odd in nature, but it looks as if someone was trying to bind their spirit here, but that it was broken before the spell was completed. You will have to forgive me Est’it, but my ancient Cerynian is not that good. This form is crude and probably was the first form of Cerynian written. It would go with the time period and the legends of the village split.”
Isri and Est’it studied the circle some more while many of the prince’s mages wandered around cataloguing anything about the area that might show a source of power. Then Kal’ine came to the prince with a find.
Kal’ine was one of the most senior mages in the service of Est’it. She was very vain and very beautiful. Her skin was a rich deep color and her eyes sparkled like jewels. She was well aware of the culture of Isri and what her supposed powers were. She was also to no one’s surprise in love with Est’it and had grand designs to be his wife. Unfortunately, Est’it did not return the love. He found Kal’ine to be rather pushy and crude, but he kept her around for her magical abilities, as she was a powerful mage. Naturally, Kal’ine did not like Isri or her powers. They were an aversion to the natural order of things.
“My prince, I have found a burial ground to the north of here in a secluded cavern. From what I understand, Isri here has the ability to animate the dead. Would she not, in theory, be able to ask the dead why they died?” Kal’ine asked with a sly smile. She would discredit this trollop of a princess and get Est’it out of this damned village.
Est’it paced back and forth. He would like to know what happened here for the sake of the history and magic in the land, but he did not want to put Isri on the spot. He did not want Kal’ine’s impetuousness to ruin the possibility that Isri would marry him.
“Well, my princess, do you think your powers would allow you to do such a thing or is that out of the reach of your abilities? I do not want to put you in any danger. I hear sprits can be very angry.” Est’it gently suggested to Isri.
Isri looked at Kal’ine. She immediately disliked this woman. She knew what she was up to. She was trying to discredit her and her heritage. Isri may not have wanted to be a Raelisuir, but it didn’t mean her powers were weak. She knew she was a very powerful Cerynian when she wanted to be. She looked back at Est’it.
“Est’it, it would not be a problem for me to see if I could perform such a ritual. In theory if someone bound their spirit here it would be all the better. I will go to this cavern and see what I can find. I only ask that I am able to commune with the dead on my own in case something does go awry for this would be a new ritual for me.” The truth of the matter is that Isri didn’t want Kal’ine to see her magic at work.
“Very well my Princess Isri. I only ask that you allow us to go to the cavern entrance so we can be nearby if something does go wrong.”
“As you wish, my Prince Est’it,” Isri said with a sly smile as she bowed towards the entourage.