Emlyn nods.
“Who named him?”
Emlyn grins, “He’s mine, so I named him.”
Armeniel laughs, “I should have known. What does it mean?”
“Terror,” Emlyn grins, “He’ll charge at almost anything, and he frightens other horses.”
“Sounds perfect for a war horse,” Armeniel nods.
“I plan to use him to enter some of the tournaments here,” Emlyn grins, “I think he’s going to do famously once I get him trained.”
“Why tournaments?” Armeniel asks, “I’ve heard about your plans, but not why.”
“Once we’re able to make some superior weapons and armor,” Emlyn grins, “We’ll have to go show them off.”
Armeniel shakes his head, smiling, “Our local goods aren’t good enough, eh?”
“Duke Arnet and Dranor got me involved in this thing with Divaros,” Emlyn shrugs, “If we’re going to have to face that, we need the best kit we can get our hands on. Your local steel is terrible. It won’t withstand a bite or a swipe of his claws.”
“You expect to have to fight it?” Armeniel asks.
“I do,” Emlyn nods, “I’ve laid out nearly two dozen scenarios with all their possible outcomes, and the vast majority of them end up with us hunting a dragon, potentially several of them, if this thing ends up being some shifter who’s capturing females for his clan or whatever. I’ve even had the temple’s smiths working over the break to make some things we’ll need to do just that.”
Armeniel looks thoughtful for a long moment, “Let me send a letter to my father. We can have someone look around the Royal Armory, as well as the King’s Guard Armory in Iridon, to see if there’s anything that might be useful to you.”
Emlyn gives a significant glance to Atres’s cousins, and Argonath nods.
“If you wouldn’t mind waiting outside for a few moments,” Argonath gestures at some chairs.
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Closing the door on his way back in, Argonath nods to Emlyn.
“If you could, can you have them check their archives?” Emlyn says, “We’re looking for anything that might tell us how to kill a Fey or at least tell us that it is a Fey and perhaps what kind it might be.”
Armeniel blanches and coughs to hide his discomfort.
Ewald gives him a look and asks, “Shall I step outside, Your Highness? Would you like me to send in your guard?”
“Yes, you may step outside, and no, I have Atres, Benger, Argonath, and Nia to protect me. I think I’m quite safe,” Armeniel replies.
“As you wish,” Ewald says, closing the door behind him.
“If what you say is true,” Armeniel begins, “It might be the next step in an ancient prophecy being fulfilled.”
Armeniel recites the prophecy from memory.
When the Gods war with each other and stalk the land
When rivers run with blood and kingdoms become ash
When children are stolen away and cannot be found
When fairy creatures shall arise with false aspects
When fate swings in the balance, waiting for a guiding hand
The Sojourner will show you the path you must walk.
The time for courage is at hand.
“We know that the gods warred with each other and roamed here. That part has already come to pass. While they and their followers fought each other, the rivers ran with blood, and the old kingdoms burned. Now this thing… This Divaros… He’s taking children…,” Armeniel explains.
“That’s worded so vaguely,” Emlyn shrugs, “It might apply, but it might not. He’s not taking all the children. He’s only asking for… um….”
“Unsullied females,” Atres supplies with a pat on Emlyn’s shoulder.
“We’re not sure that it is a Fey thing,” Emlyn goes on, “Fey and fairy aren’t necessarily the same thing, either. Atres has been having premonitions that didn’t settle until we decided that everything I’d planned for was at least a little wrong. It could easily be something else. We’ve come up with a couple of other candidates. There’s also the possibility that it’s something that I wouldn’t know to account for, like some local variation of your wildlife. Maybe ask your archivists to pull and send what they have concerning this Sojourner while they’re at it? Anything they can tell you about the source and origin of this particular bit of doggerel might be useful, too. Preferably, the originals along with the translations.”
Armeniel gives her a curious look, “How did you know it had been translated?”
“Anything ancient would be updated and modernized, probably several times,” Emlyn shrugs, “I know that many of our Temple documents have been through that process. Vellum and paper get old. People forget how to read archaic styles of writing. Copies and translations get made – even translations of various copies. Not all of them, either the copies or the translations, are always accurate. At least in the case of my Temple, it has led to numerous arguments and even a near schism at one point in our distant past. Gods above! The priests making me memorize all the nattering that happened at all those conclaves is finally useful.”
Armeniel laughs.
“I’m certain that this isn’t how they intended me to use that great pile of dust,” Emlyn shrugs, “but it does give me some insight into how things like this get handled over time.”
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The "Braw" Fact: We learn the name of Emlyn's chestnut warhorse is "Braw," which means "Terror." Emlyn plans to use him to dominate local tournaments to show off the superior weapons and armor she’s having built.
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The Fey Theory: Emlyn asks for royal archives on Fey and "fairies." She’s looking for anything that might confirm if Divaros is a creature of the Sidhe or something else entirely.
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The Prophecy of the Sojourner: Armeniel recites an ancient poem about gods warring, rivers of blood, and "fairy creatures with false aspects." He thinks Emlyn (the "Sojourner") is the one destined to show the path.
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The Translation Critique: Emlyn immediately points out that the prophecy is probably a mess of bad translations and modernized "doggerel." She asks for the original documents, knowing that centuries of priests "updating" texts usually results in a pile of useless dust.
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The Tall Obstacle Rating: 4/5 Tankards.
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Review: He’s still acting as the "Tactical Anchor." When Emlyn gets a bit flustered or hesitant (like when mentioning the "unsullied females"), Atres is right there with a supportive hand on the shoulder and the right words. He’s becoming very good at being the calm to her storm.
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Oso, Usurg, and Rilgi: They’re being kept outside for the "prophecy talk," which is probably for the best. Dragon-blooded men and ancient human riddles usually result in a headache that no amount of ale can cure.
Emlyn is now a "Prophesized Sojourner," though I suspect she’d rather just be a General with a better set of boots. Shall we see if the archives turn up anything useful, or should I go check on Braw and make sure he hasn't decided to eat the Prince’s carriage?
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