Douglas Niles - Fistanadantilus Reborn

"Uh… I don't have any tea," Danyal interjected in the momentary pause of the pen's progress.

"Why, yes, that would be very nice." Foryth's head bobbed in agreement, though his face remained someplace very far away. "Help to take the chill out of the bones and all that. Now, where was I?"

Danyal sighed, figuring he could probably inform the historian that the sky was falling down on them and Foryth would merely suggest, politely of course, that he would really like a little sugar with that.

The lad stared into the flames, moping. For some reason, though he had a companion in his camp for the first time since leaving his village, he felt lonelier than ever. Foryth Teel couldn't even carry on a decent conversation. At the same time, the distracted traveler seemed as if he would be terribly vulnerable if the bandits decided to return. Again Dan wondered about the flames. He knew the fire was a beacon that would extend well beyond the confines of their narrow grotto.

It occurred to him that he could just take Nightmare and leave, moving farther up the streamside trail, but he wasn't ready to turn his back on the strange traveler. Foryth Teel, for all of his distractibility, at least did not seem likely to be any threat. And he was company.

Finally the historian drew a breath and raised his eyes. The book remained open on his lap, but he set the quill carefully on the flat log where he had placed his ink bottle. "Didn't you say something about tea?" he asked.

"No!" Danyal's exasperation crept into his voice. "I asked what you were doing on this road, and when you said you wanted some tea, I told you I didn't have any!"

"What? Oh, forgive me. I have tea. It'll just take a minute."

Danyal waited impatiently as the traveler pulled a tin pot from his pack, scooped some water from the stream-almost falling in as he did so-and then looked vainly into the surging flames, seeking a place to rest his kettle. "Here." With a sigh, the lad used a stick to pull a small pile of hot coals to the side of the flames. "Set the teapot on these."

"Splendid! Now, what was it you were trying to say?" Danyal was about to shake his head in disgust, muttering that it didn't matter, when Foryth brightened with sudden recollection. "Oh, yes-why am I here? I daresay they'd have to let me into the priesthood if I could give a complete answer to that one!"

He laughed self-consciously, though the youth saw no humor in the statement. Foryth continued. "I'm on my way to a place called Loreloch. It's up in these hills." He gestured vaguely to the darkness on all sides.

"I've never heard of it," Danyal admitted. "But I've never been very far from Waterton."

"Well, it's kind of a secret place. In truth, most people don't even know it's there. It's a little village, so I hear, gathered around a fortified manor house, a stronghold of armed men. The lord there doesn't have much to do with the outside world."

"Why do you want to go there?" Danyal also wondered, but didn't ask, how the befuddled researcher expected to find the place.

"Fistandantilus!" Foryth held up a single finger, as if that one word held the key to all of his plans and ambitions. Apparently observing that Danyal wasn't terribly impressed, he continued. "I'm a historian, seeking to chronicle the story of Krynn's greatest archmage. Specifically, there's a man who lives in Loreloch who went there after the Seeker priests were thrown out of Haven."

"I've heard of Haven," the lad declared proudly. "That's where my ancestors came from, not too long after the Cataclysm."

Foryth might not have heard; at least, he made no adjustment to his own tutorial "This man, the disgraced Seeker, declared that the archmage Fistandantilus was a god, and that he himself was the high priest of the religion. For a time, he had quite a few followers-until, of course, the Seekers were shown to be false priests."

In spite of himself, Danyal found himself fascinated by the story. "That was when the dragons came, right? And people learned that Paladine and the Dark Queen were still here, could still answer prayers?"

"Aye, the two great lords live, and so do many other gods as well. Gilean, the patriarch of my own faith, and gentle Mishakal. And others who are less benign as well.

"But back to my story: This false priest was driven from Haven and, with a small band of followers, he seized the stronghold of Loreloch for himself."

"Didn't the highlords object?" asked Danyal. "I mean, I know I wasn't born yet back then, but I heard that during the war they even came to Waterton and made folks pay them with food from every harvest. Or else they threatened to send their dragons in and destroy the town." The lad shuddered as his mind conjured up a vivid memory of just that. He looked at the man out of the corner of his eye, relieved to see that Foryth had apparently not noticed his distress. For some reason, he wanted to keep that incident a secret for now.

"They may have done the same to Loreloch. Gilean knows, they could have sent a dragon to raze the place if they were displeased," the man admitted. "I don't know why they didn't, to tell you the truth. Perhaps they simply paid no attention, or maybe he was too small a pest to warrant the trouble."

Foryth cleared his throat, and Danyal realized the man was organizing his thoughts, restoring his direction after the question.

"There was another unique feature about this priest of Fistandantilus. Unlike most of the Seekers, this priest had at least one unnatural power: Though he had been the head of his sect for something close to a hundred years, he had never been known to age. It is said that he survived the war, which ended more than twenty years ago, of course. I'm wondering if he still possesses the same youthful appearance as he did back then, though his church was cast down and he was lucky to escape into banishment." "Lucky?" queried Danyal.

"Compared to dead, I should say so. After all, no less a personage than the dragonarmy highlord had issued an order for his death. And now, from Loreloch, he makes occasional raids into neighboring villages, preying upon the highway traffic into and out of Haven and the coastal ports."

"Don't the Knights of Solamnia object to his robbing people and stuff?" On several occasions during his life, Danyal had seen one or two of the armored warriors pass through Waterton. He vividly remembered his impressions of dignity, might, and awe-inspiring competence and capability. "I'd guess that no one could get away with crossing them," he suggested earnestly.

"Well, you're right about that last. Still, the knights have been awfully busy since the war. They've tried to restore some order to their realms, and they had another invasion of Palanthas to face just a few years after the Dark Queen was defeated. Too, down here the Newsea cuts you off from the centers of knightly power, although there is one knightly marshal, named Sir Harold the White. Still, he has a great territory as his responsibility, so, no, I would say that Loreloch is a little too much of a backwater to call for the attention of our Solamnic protectors."

"But why do you want to go there?" Danyal pressed. "I told you!" Foryth seemed exasperated, though the lad could not remember hearing an answer to that question. "Fistandantilus!" "He's there? But you said he was dead." "He's not there! But the leader of Loreloch is a man who claimed to worship the archmage, and this man doesn't get any older! Naturally I want to find out why." "If it's a secret place, how will you find it?" Danyal finally asked. "Why, my book, of course. The Book of Learning," Foryth explained, as if the lad should understand everything he was saying.

Danyal waited, hoping that the historian would say more. But then Foryth shook his head, discarding some private thought, and the lad wondered if there was still another reason the man had embarked on his journey.