Brian Pratt - The unsuspecting mage

The room is cluttered, papers and books lining every surface including the floor, not at all what he had expected of a place called the Royal Archives. An elderly man sits behind a table, bent over a large book laid out before him. A shaft of sunlight streams in over his shoulder from the window behind him illuminating the pages of the book. Hearing the door open and glancing up to see James enter he says, “Thank you Berin, you may go now.” The page bows to Ellinwyrd, for that is who this man must be, and then leaves, closing the door behind him.

Ellinwyrd motions for James to come forward and sit in the chair opposite him saying, “Please, sit down.”

James walks over toward the table, having to step carefully around several books lying abandoned on the floor and then sits in the chair. “Thank you sir, for taking time to see me,” he says.

Ellinwyrd closes the book in front of him and sits back in his chair. “The letter that was delivered to me did not give any names but bore the seal of a friend.” He looks intently at James and asks, “Can you name him?”

“Perrilin the bard wrote that letter on my behalf,” he answers.

Nodding agreement, Ellinwyrd says, “I heard that he was taken by the city watch the other night. How is it that he is with you now?”

“I came across him in an abandoned house outside of town,” he explains. “There were several men there who had him tied to a chair and were beating him pretty badly. I stopped them and brought him back to town.”

“Is he okay now?” Ellinwyrd asks, obviously concerned.

“He’s still sore from his ordeal,” James answers, “but claims he will live. He’s resting in a room at the Silver Bells even as we speak.”

Ellinwyrd chuckles, “That sounds like him. We’ve been friends a long time now and I hate seeing him get into these situations.”

“Situations?” he asks.

“Always something happening when he is around,” Ellinwyrd says. Waving his hand dismissively he continues, “But enough about him, what is it that you think I can help you with? The letter stated you thought there was something in which my help may be needed?”

James removes the medallion from around his neck and hands it across the table to Ellinwyrd. “I was hoping you might know if this design has any sort of significance?”

Taking the medallion, Ellinwyrd brings it close and takes a good look. After a minute of examination, he glances up to James and says, “It looks familiar, but I can’t quite remember why.” He contemplates the design a moment longer before turning it over and examines the smooth back side, rubbing it with his thumb. “What can you tell me about it?”

“Not much really,” he answers, hoping he won’t have to tell him exactly the circumstances by which he acquired it.

“Hmmm…” Ellinwyrd gets to his feet and walks over to one of the many shelves in the room with the medallion still in hand. He picks up one book, flips through the pages briefly before returning it to the shelf and then chooses another. “It seems that I remember seeing this in one of the older tomes, perhaps one dealing with…” he begins to explain before trailing off. Removing a tome with aged, yellow bindings and cracked by the march of time, he nods his head then brings it back to the table. “This may be it. This tome relates the history of various religious orders in the area, both those currently popular and others that have fallen out of favor,” he says to James as he returns to his seat and lays the book between them. Carefully opening it, he says. “There used to be other religions around than there are now, but for one reason or another have disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” James asks. “How can a religion just disappear?”

“Perhaps disappear is an over generalization,” he replies, looking up from the book and glancing across the table at him. “But some religions are no longer sought after by the common man. Over time their temples close, people no longer wish to be priests of that religion, so the religion, sad to say, fades away.” He returns his attention to the book, and continues flipping through the pages. Every once in a while he would pause when he came to a drawing, stopping only long enough to compare the diagram on the medallion to the one that’s in the book. When it proves not to be a match, he continues on.

“Have there been many religion’s to fade away?” asks James.

“I would think so,” he says. “Though how many is hard to say.” He turns to another page and again brings the medallion up close for a comparison. “I think we may have found it.”

“Really?” says James excitedly, leaning across the table in an effort to get a better look at the picture. “What does it say?”

Ellinwyrd hands the medallion back to James and silently reads the section in the book relating to the design depicted on the page. “There is not very much here, just a paragraph,” he says and then moves the book closer to James so he can better see. “This is the symbol of the god Morcyth. The man who wrote this did not know very much about those who believed in Morcyth, simply mentioning that it was an ancient religion whose priests were scholars and teachers.” He turns several more pages but finds nothing further written about Morcyth, so closes the book.

“Have you heard of this Morcyth?” James asks him.

Nodding, Ellinwyrd says, “A little. His influence waned over five hundred years ago I believe, though I am not sure why. I do know his priests were good, always helping everyone they came into contact with.” He looks questioningly across the table at James and asks, “One wonders how you came to be in possession of a medallion bearing the sign of a god whose priests have not been seen for over five hundred years?”

Shifting in his seat under the eyes of Ellinwyrd, he hesitantly replies, “It was given to me.”

“Oh?” Ellinwyrd says, arching one eyebrow questioningly.

Not sure why, but James feels that he can trust him. “It’s a rather long, unbelievable story,” he says. “I was not born in this world,” James admits as he looks to see the reaction his words are having on him.

“Truly?” asks Ellinwyrd, intrigued but somewhat skeptical. “What world were you born upon?”

“We call it Earth,” he explains. “It’s very similar to this one, but with many differences. One of the major differences is that magic doesn’t work in my world.”

“Fascinating,” Ellinwyrd says, then prompts James to continue.

James then relates the tale of how he answered the ad and all the events from the time he entered this world until the time the god, or whatever that little creature is, gave him the amulet. He further explains how he came here to Cardri, how he hoped to discover the meaning of the amulet. How he hoped in some way to shed some light on all this.

“An interesting tale,” Ellinwyrd says when James finishes. “It seems strange that you were brought to our world and not told why.”

“I agree,” James says. “All I was told was to do what feels right.”

“And it felt right to tell me your tale?” Ellinwyrd asks.

“I feel I can trust you with it,” James explains. “Odd, but you’re the first one I’ve met in this world that I’ve felt that way about. Even Ceryn doesn’t know the whole story.” He looks to Ellinwyrd and asks, “I hope that I am not mistaken?”

“Oh no, your story is safe with me,” Ellinwyrd assures James. “I can understand where secrecy about this might be the prudent course of action at this time.”

“Having heard my tale, what would you propose I do now? Should I go in search of Morcyth? And if so, where do I start?” he asks.

“You are the only one who can answer that,” Ellinwyrd says. “You were told to do what feels right, does going in search of Morcyth feel right?”