King Theon IV spoke, "The True Histories of the crafting of the Highland Blade still spin like splinters in my mind, Mareth."

  #

  The light faded from the young Prince Theon's eyes, and the heat of the explosion faded into the chill of the starry void around him. After a long time, silence measured its way into the area and suffused it with hallowed solemnity, the king-to-be sat up and opened his eyes. There before him was the Obsidian Throne, and upon it a man, still pale as alabaster, but strong and healthy, his features full of youthful vigor. Cradled against his chest he held the adamantine bastard sword he had before, and upon his wretched face was a chilling smile shaped like the scythe of a crescent moon.

  "So. Very. Delicious." Jonah II said, licking the corner of his lips, and sucking small drops of blood from his fingertips.

  Another voice spoke on Theon's left, deep and powerful, "Son of my sons, you have done well." And Theon IV looked to see that the other sarcophagi had returned to his view, and rising from the crypt of Theon I was his spiritual likeness, an apparition of translucent silver overlaid with brilliant shining gold writing the like of which mortal man could not hope to read, as if the words and symbols were him as much as any form ever crafted or body dwelt in.

  Around the room he heard the sudden breaking out of a dozen voices, all assenting their agreement with the first, the cacophony of which startled him into continued silence.

  "Let the boy breathe," spoke a former King, five back on the left.

  "Thank you, King Ammitai, Fifth of the Song Lords, crafter of Remembrance and Twin Vipers"

  "The boy knows his history." Ammitai exclaimed, a broad smile filling his words.

  "It is well he should know the whole of them." Spoke another, third on the right.

  "What do I lack, Great Fathers?"

  Upon the Obsidian Throne Jonah II cackled again, only breaking long enough to lick another finger, before breaking out again in manic waves of madness.

  "SILENCE!" The voice of Theon I rocked the firmament around them, rattling their stone homes.

  Jonah II shrank into his throne and gripped his adamantine blade like a child might an animal for comfort.

  "The boy will know, that you, Jonah, were not assassinated, but were imprisoned by your Knights after you forged that abomination of a blade."

  A second king rang in, his voice sonorous, "I knew it to be true, that he had savaged his own soul in the crafting of the blade we now call Poet's Folly, but I could not bring myself to destroy my father’s name by the admission." Theon III, son of Jonah II spoke, his voice wracked with guilt. "So, I created and quelled a rebellion, and exiled the Knights, striking their names from the histories as traitors. Mareth promised to lock away the blade, and my broken father, in this place, in the place where we all must rest until the End of Time sets us free to wander once more. I was very young."

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  Theon IV spoke up, "What of it now, Forefathers All? Why did I face with this wreck of a former king?"

  Jonah stood, eyes still pools of darkness, "Because I still have some control over the Sword you now wield. Without my death, or my assent, no king since me could possibly wield the blade you carry. So, I taste your blood, your very soul, in exchange for your right to rule. As you saw, not even that most incredible blade can kill me now. I am as the Timeless! IMMORTAL!" His laughter began again in wretched peals.

  "Immortal and insane." Theon I cut in.

  "It is as it is. I have earned my place and learned the truth. What I now am called to rule is built on lies..." Theon IV stood long, his final words hanging like a miasmic cloud over the area, and without a word he turned away from his forebearers and began to walk again the unseen path through alien stars and celestial lights, through a void of eternal, inescapable night, to a place he knew not where.

  #

  "Jonah II did not listen to you, and in his hubris crafted a blade beyond his power. And his people suffered for it, and every King of Shir has suffered for it since, as his hold over the Peacebringer is still in effect. His madness, notwithstanding, it does not explain you. Nor how you know so much, nor what it is you want with this kingdom."

  Mareth gazed a long time at his former pupil, now King, before he finally responded. "I am not of this world. This you know, Theon. I cannot interfere in events the way you might wish or think. I catch flashes of truth from the world from which I came, and I try to steer this world to good. More I cannot say. Oaths bind you and your Knights, and so too do Oaths bind me – Oaths higher than those of mortal lips, in a tongue which cannot speak lies. I do not know how to make you trust me anew, nor whence came this malicious doubt, but I assure you, since you like me to speak plain, I am on the side of life, of wisdom, and of peace."

  "Yet your counsel has brought much of death into our midst."

  Mareth looked wounded, but spoke without emotion, "Death too has his place. Life cannot be without Death – not as the world now is. I do not claim to know all, but this I know: Death is not your enemy. The enemy we face in these times is not an end, but a perpetual maelstrom. Order has been broken, the natural state of harmony shattered by the machinations of I know not whom. Chaos is gathering power, and only this Entombed Knight, whoever he may be, can keep us from it."

  "But where is he? What more can you give me than riddles, half-promises, and vague allusions? What are we to fight, and how are we to fight it? I lack not the will, only the guidance."

  "I have presented all I know, for now. Research, study, engage your knights, your friends. Ask Itaru. Delve into the clues and find a path. The whorl of chaotic energies surging in the kingdom blinds me."

  "Still, I trust my teacher, but one day I must know the whole truth, Mareth Timedodger. One day, I feel it as surely as my heart beats, the knowledge of who you truly are will be needed to complete this quest.”

  "As you say, Sire. But that day is not this day, I am called away, in fact. You are not the only one troubled by the current events, and I have moves that must be made. I do not know when I will return, but when I do, I hope it will be with better news, and perhaps guidance."

  "Do as you like, Seer. You always have. Safe travels."

  "Travels, certainly, but safety is a dubious proposition, my King. I will be content with progress." with a ponderous turn the old sage retired from the room, and the King remained, surrounded by his books and maps, still unsure of the next step on this path.