[XVI] Eighteenth year of the reign of Talenés IV, the first passage of Celem in the month of the Crown.
For the ear of his Lordship, by the hand of Saltés, the Governor of Valemteim.
The first passage of a new month has always offered itself as a chance to see things with new eyes. That old saying, “you never see the same thing twice” captures this spirit very well. I ought to be able to put it into practice every time I sleep, or even blink. But alas, a monthly ritual is enough for an old governor.
My loquacious beginning to this epistle may reveal my cheerful state of mind. The reason is clear: My eyes are not seeing the same thing for the second time. From the beginning of Celem’s passage, there is a faint glow where Celem should be. I take this as a sign that the fog is lifting, soon we may be able to look out again to the edge of the land. There has also been a rising change in the temperature—instead of that vile cold which ate at one’s bones and rendered all forms of covering inept. Everywhere seems to be embracing the warmth, finally exhaling the pent up moisture forced upon us by the mist.
I am not alone in my cheer. The entire town is full of activity today, with more outside than has been the case in a long while, going about various domestic tasks, some choosing to stare endlessly at Celem. Even Cardis, the ancient and well decorated warrior (he fought for Your Lordship’s grandsire) left his place in the tavern to stare.
But cheer is not the only thing to rise with the blood and other humors. Panic has risen too, a kind of hysteria that leaves the patient twitching helplessly in a fit. Some (mostly men) suffering from this have turned into themselves, hugging their torsos and whimpering ceaselessly. Some (mostly women) have lost their senses, running through the streets ripping their coverings off, beating and clawing anything that stands in their way. It is a most peculiar sight and (though they pretend otherwise) the physicians know not what to do about it.
It is one such case, the young offspring of a dear friend of mine from the House of Ferenés, that I am due to visit just this time. So without closing this missal, I will merely punctuate it with a brief stillness, to be resumed upon my return. ¨§¨
…It was with great difficulty that I found this battered last page among the wreckage of what used to be the governor’s office.
I read the foregoing and shudder to think I was so at ease with the changes taking place.
Let me briefly account for what has occurred here in Valemteim—for Your Lordship (or Your Lordship’s Successor) and hopefully our offspring to come.
As Celem’s passage progressed, the fog continued to change, seemingly growing thinner, emitting strong hues of red and a fiery pink, though it was not evening nor morning. The temperature continued to rise, so that it was as warm as the longest day of the year—unusual in this month.
Then the wind began—a heavy wind, like the drawing of a great bellows. It caused great swirling shapes as debris from the earth—plant life and dust, though the ground had been wet for some time—was brought up into the heavens.
And then it happened. I know not how to describe it with intelligible language—surely the Gods must have words to describe these cosmic occurrences. I am certain that Your Lordship saw it, or some version of it, from the place Your Lordship was at the time. No living being in Skara would have missed it, for it came from Celem Himself.
It is for posterity that I leave this description, inadequate as it is.
It began as a sound, like the hissing of wet wood in a hot fire, but magnified many times. Then in a great wave the fog burst, turning from cold to boiling hot at once. Anyone who was standing out in it was burnt, some screaming in pain from the exposure. Many have died from this.
Fortunately for my life, I was under the covering of a portico. This provided me with rudimentary protection as the wave of heat passed to the ground. I hurriedly curled up within my cloak to protect myself, so I did not see everything that happened.
When the violent hissing sounds lessened, I looked up to see the fog cleared away and the sky on fire. Celem was wrapped in a bright burning cloak that seemed to stretch from the heavens towards us. The sight was extremely painful to eyes long accustomed to greyish gloom. However, one dare not look away—for it was also alarmingly beautiful, especially the dark patch, the colour of blood, which pulsated and issued what looked like a puss.
The feeling of awe quickly converted into proper terror once one’s skin and eyes began to throb with pain, as if they had been scorched in a fire. I rammed open the door I stood before just as my clothes began to smolder. The air inside was gloriously cool and I collapsed there from the sheer weight of what I had seen. But then celestial missiles began to strike. They whistled in the air, causing the ground to shudder with every impact.
Some landed quite close and I hurried towards the window (luckily made of proper glass and not that oily paper most people resort to) to watch.
The flames in the sky continued to drift down, while these burning missiles veritably flew down with the velocity of an arrow. Several hit Valemteim, one directly into the Governor’s House. I am sitting now among the remaining rubble as I scribble this.
I found the members of the House of Ferenés huddled together in the cellar near the middle of the large house. It was a good, cool place—well stocked and relatively quiet, though one could hear dimly the sounds of terror and burning outside.
I might as well confess my conduct to Your Lordship. I remained in that safe place a long time rather than try to help the citizens of Valemteim as duty dictates. I despair for my life, eager for Your Lordship to judge it at an end for such vile and cowardly behavior.
I would rather have joined the brave Retainers and others who died battling the flames that Celem sent down upon us than to be among the living now.
I would follow the Ancient Ways and kill myself, but there is much to be done, including writing this account of what happened so that our offspring will not forget. Let the reader take heed of this statement: He reads this text because of one man’s cowardice. Were that instead he could read what happened to the brave. Much is lost.
When I eventually did come up out of the cellar, it was like rising from a tomb after many months of death. Very little was familiar. Many buildings were charred black from flames, some were on fire. The sky was crimson, smoke rising from all around. It shrouded Celem, making it possible to look at him without pain. The fiery Being seemed wounded, still issuing a bloody trail like a cape. It seemed like the last time He would ever be seen again.
I have only recently come to understand how fortunate we were in Valemteim and how much destruction we escaped, thanks to that cursed fog. For the fog seems to have absorbed most of Celem’s destructive power before it could manage to engulf us entirely. I am no scribe nor a true scholar so I can only elaborate with what was told to me by the resident scholars of Valemteim—Lysimon and Dolcés. They say the fog provided a kind of damp shield against the heat, which warded it off when its strength was greatest. The shield collapsed, but only when Celem’s celestial wrath was well past its climax.
Woe to those places not protected as we were. The first darkness was not really dark, for a faint glowing could be seen to the South and East… the direction of Jotheim.
I sincerely pray Your Lordship is alive and in good health. It is a source of never ending strife within me as to what should become of this world or this Empire were Your Lordship not in it. No doubt the people would be a shadow of themselves.
The people have boldly come together to put together what remains of the town. Many perished in the event—some have begun calling it the Catastrophe, but I am not sure it has finished yet, so I refuse—though many do remain. The Retainer’s Hall has been converted into a physician’s Hall—it is full of victims with burns. There the physicians practice the healing arts as best they can, and many newly made widows and childless mothers are there tending the suffering too.
Few slept at all during the first darkness. Many, including myself, gathered in the center of town to pray and watch for Celem’s return. He rose this morning, the same bloody red. And following him closely behind came Another. White to his Red, this Other seemed to have stolen some of His glory.
When the Other crawled over the horizon, those watching let out a collective gasp. Never had such a sight been seen. The birth of a new God? The transformation of an old? It is true that Lôm, who watched over the heavens before Celem’s passage and often after, has disappeared.
Whatever may be the case, it was not long before a frenzy had grasped the people. Some began to shout and chant, paying homage to the new celestial being. Others wailed in agony that the Devotionists were right—we were cursed.
I confess that I watched all this in silence. Ashamed of my actions, I had no heart or stomach to assert authority now. Wherein lay that authority in a world with a new sun?
The Scribes and scholars will no doubt eventually build many plausible explanations. The ones here, though much demands their time, have mentioned to me that they are searching through all the texts they can find for prophecies. If only some of the Devotionists survived—they said—we would be in a better position to know what has happened.
The inkwell I found is running dry. I must make an end of this epistle. With the sky clear and the smoke showing signs of clearing, I intend to dispatch a courier to [ink fades…]
[XVII] Seventh passage of the Two Suns since the Event known by some as “the Catastrophe,” tenth passage in the month of the Crown.
For the ear of his Lordship, Talenés IV, by the hand of Lysimon, scribe and interim-Governor of Valemteim.
Your Lordship will—I pray—excuse the lack of form in this brief epistle. I have never sent official correspondence before and I am unpracticed.
Since ink is not easy to come by, I will be brief: Your Lordship’s appointment from the House of Hylot, Saltés Borian, is no longer among the living. He was found passed in his temporary residence, a knife lodged in his stomach. It is not believed the cause of his death was by the hand of anyone but himself.
Communications with Your Lordship having been closed since many passages by now, I have taken the liberty of dispatching this epistle. I attach a stack of epistles bound together by the late Governor. He had placed them in a prominent place to be found after his suicide.
Although it break protocol to do so, I am honor bound to confess to Your Lordship that I have read these epistles and I can confirm all of the Governor’s account is true, save of course the parts where Governor Saltés claimed cowardice. No sane person left a good hiding spot in that period, I know because I was outside at the time, huddled beneath a cart on the street and I saw much of Valemteim during Celem’s assault. No person was able to help and many died from the exposure.
After the Governor’s death, we held a tanác to name a successor until making contact with Your Lordship. They named me to this position, though I am thoroughly unworthy of it.
Little remains to be said, save that we are organizing militias and conserving resources (much of which, praise Celem, remains intact.) I have learned the depth and scope of our preparations regarding the warrior beasts supposedly roaming the countryside, though I have serious reservations as to whether they survived the Event.
I am obediently,
Lysimon Hildec, of the House of Drapeter.
[XVIII] Tenth passage of the Two Suns since the Event known by some as “the Catastrophe,” tenth passage in the month of the Crown.
For the ear of his Lordship, Talenés IV, by the hand of Lysimon, scribe and interim-Governor of Valemteim.
I have felt it was right and proper to follow up my previous epistle with a new one including new information that seemed urgent and necessary for Your Lordship’s counsels, particularly Your Lordship’s military counsel.
With Skara returning to the semblance of stability—though tremors are felt here daily and the temperature fluctuates wildly from cold to hot—the Retainers, led by their Captains, have embarked upon wide ranging scouting missions. We don’t need to send them however to know the entire Realm is on fire—the flames can be seen on distant mountains, and the smell of smoke permeates everything.
One mission, heading North towards the forest and the lands of the Tamvaasa, did not dare to penetrate far into that region for the thickness of smoldering smoke that hangs there. It was from here that our first troubles began.
A group of the Tamvaasa brutes—probably 20—exited the forest noisily, coughing and spluttering. The scouts say their faces were covered to avoid the smoke as much as possible. The scouting party quickly hid to monitor this group’s progress. Clearly they were very hungry—to the point of starvation, and they made their way—with surprisingly accurate knowledge, I might add—to the nearest Durno settlement. The scouting group followed them. When the groups came upon the desolate place—its inhabitants having long since moved to Valemteim for protection—they destroyed it in search of edible things. In the end, they had to consume cut up strips of dried leather left in the worksmith’s area, such was their hunger.
This accomplished, they organized a vast line to sweep the land looking for living things. The scouts say it was a remarkable and difficult experience, tracking the Tamvaasa—they are able to blend in to their surroundings very well . The land was empty—devoid of any living creatures ready to consume. This did not deter the hunters, however, and they pressed on through to the end of the passage, slowly and silently.
It was not long before they came across a Royal grain store, built into a natural cave in the hills of that area. These have remained in the custody of at least two Retainers at all times, which may be the only reason it was discovered. The hunters did not take long to prepare an assault, and it would have been with overwhelming superiority of numbers that they succeeded—were it not for the scouts.
The battle was a fierce one, driven by a new urgency than ever before this time of the two suns. The heavily armed Tamvaasa were still more than a match for our ragged scouts, though they were exceptionally weak. Nevertheless we successfully drove them away through courageous actions and the element of surprise. It came at the cost of many lives. The scout confirms that at least four of the Tamvaasa soldiers managed to flee from the battle before they could be captured. I fear they shall return with reinforcements.
Another one of the scouting groups discovered something less dangerous and potentially far more valuable. They followed the wayward marks of the scouting party that went lost in the fog. They discovered the dried skeletons—the only remains left of the scouting party and the Devotionists fallen before them. But then they heard an unmistakeable sound: The sniffling of a Durno nose and the sobbing of a Durno voice.
He lay hidden in an alcove high up on a cliff near the scene of the massacre. A living skeleton, the youth could barely move. His eyes and skin were severely burnt. The party removed him carefully from his perch—he was beyond knowledge or even sensation—and brought him here. The youth remains alive, has stopped his endless shuddering and whimpering and may as yet be able to speak. He has consumed mashed up food mixed with water and as I write lays sleeping. It is doubtful he will ever be able to see again.
It goes without saying to Your Lordship that we are hopeful this youth could unlock many secrets at once: those of the Devotionists and the events surrounding the surprise attack by the strange, beast-like raiders. The scouts looked for the raider’s remains, but were unable to find it. They did however find tracks—large prints that appeared very fresh indeed.
The third scouting party has yet to return, which is cause for some worry, seeing that they journeyed south towards friendly territory.
No living things native of the air or land have been in sight since the great catastrophe. We fear greatly for the land’s ability to recover in this new period in our history. I have directed my fellow scholars and any gifted in the art of raising crops to begin trying their best in areas around Valemteim. I only became aware of the dire situation we face in terms of food when I took up this office, and we will need new sources of food soon. Fortunately the new growing season is upon us and some flocks of Fadouil and _____ were brought indoors and managed to survive the catastrophe. I have placed them under Royal protection under pain of death, in hopes of keeping them alive to breed and multiply.
I eagerly await Your Lordship’s news and confirmation of my appointment as interim-governor.
Until then I remain humbly and obediently,
Lysimon Hildec, of the House of Drapeter
[XIX] Thirteenth passage of the Two Suns since the Event known by some as “the Catastrophe,” tenth passage in the month of the Crown.
For the ear of his Lordship, Talenés IV, by the hand of Lysimon, scribe and interim-Governor of Valemteim.
This epistle has been sent with our fleetest courier in hopes of receiving a prompt reply.
This is because Your Lordship’s council is the most welcome thing possible to a poor scholar inexperienced in matters of statecraft, let alone warfare. It was my lack of knowledge in this latter that rendered me unacceptable for the position, by my own estimation. I beg Your Lordship’s forgiveness in my failure at discharging my sacred duty in a time of war.
For make no mistake about it, Your Lordship: We are in a time of war.
Many more Northern Savages have poured out of their smoldering forests. They come in increasingly large bands, painted and costumed, their few possessions loaded with them. Hungry they are and based on all the signs, I can only assume they have no thoughts of returning whence they came.
The savages began their attacks by returning to the grain store. I dared not move the grains, for fear of what our own populace would do—wily they are and eager for security and gain—The loyal Retainers formed strong defensive positions, with a line of communications should they need support.
I figured it was enough, Your Lordship, and so did the Captains. We were wrong.
I believe our main fault in terms of strategy was figuring that the savages would not be patient in their attack. Knowing what they wanted and needed was nearly in their grasp, we counted upon frenzied frontal assaults, like the first attack—what came instead was much more dangerous.
I am transcribing much of this from the scout who witnessed the attack—the only survivor to come from that first battle. The Tamvaasa did not assault the grain store under the light of the two suns, but in the middle of the darkness. As Your Lordship knows, our guards do not keep fires burning, so as not to give away their position. So when they saw fires popping up to the North, they were obviously not friendly. Then the sound of clacking—a well-known sound to those who have fought Tamvaasa before—began and great shouts from the same northerly direction. The guards could not help but focus their attention on the seemingly large army amassing in the darkness.
This is how they were deceived. For the fighting force that did attack came not from this direction, but rather the opposite. They cut down two with their large axes before our guards could utter a sound, and the remaining five were able to form defensive positions just in time to save their own chances, at least initially.
The scout says a single guard, a Retainer from the Great House of Langsilac, managed to hold off the horde with his sword, shield and crossbow, while the others lit the warning fires and prepared to defend the main entrance to the store.
But the Tamvaasa were more patient still, and proceeded to use fire against the guards, tossing burning branches into our area of defense, causing the guards to lose inner wind. Thus blinded and lacking in breath, they were overrun.
A rescue party of Retainers arrived at the store just in time to see the savages finish conquering it. They were so numerous and had the advantage of our defenses to keep them safe, so the wise Captain—a certain young man from the South whose name escapes me—did not sound the attack.
The grain store formed a kind of headquarters for the invasion force. When the light of the two suns rose, they could be seen in the hundreds.
The Council of War here agreed that we needed to act quickly if Valemteim was to remain in Your Lordship’s hands. And so we called up all able bodied persons in the town—a meagre force to any who may remember much of times now gone by, to defend the town and help support the core of our force: several octens of fully trained Retainers.
I was present at the field of battle, though I did not lead it. For that purpose, I was happy to nominate the Captain Tirión. He, an experienced Captain and a soldier who knows how to think like the Savages, did his duty ably. By first light of the two suns, our forces were positioned in the hills between the store and Valemteim. They were able to let loose a storm of arrows upon the temporary shelters built by the Savages.
But they were prepared for this and simply remained covered until our bombardment stopped.
The topography of the area being unsuitable for a frontal assault, our forces rather formed into two parts to cover the comings and goings of the Savages, while a third group prepared for an armored approach to the Grain store. This took the team at least half of Celem’s passage, for when the armored group was beginning to make their way up the ravine, the shadows had flipped sides.
Patient preparation helped our cause and victory seemed certain, until bands of Savages appeared outside our trap. These began attacking the two groups stationed above, forcing them to reduce their supportive role. I was in one of these groups, and can say the fighting was very fierce. The Savages—fed as they were on our stolen grains—made for worthy opponents, overcoming our organized lines by sheer strength and daring.
But I do not intend to speak highly of our enemies, only to form an explanation for what happened next.
To say it briefly, Your Lordship, the Savages managed to overrun our flanks, forcing us into the ravine where our forces in the center were closing in upon the grain store. Thus encircled and with the height advantage, the Savages proceeded to rain terror upon us. Many were unprotected and falling, so Tirión ordered the retreat.
We succeeded in breaking through their ranks and made straight for the city, hoping to prevent their forces from arriving there first. The armored group moved more slowly, trying to draw as much of the invaders’ attention as possible.
The two lights were settling towards the horizon, but our enemies had felt the lust for blood and would not be stopped. In a violent masse they raced for the city howling their eerie war cries.
The quickest soldiers from both sides reached the city outskirts almost the same time. Fortunately we had left the reserves behind and they were prepared to defend the city.
Now that the battle is over I can make an assessment of what happened tactically. I believe our forces, panicking from losing their position on the field of combat so quickly, made the mistake of allowing that panic to be seen and felt by the enemy. Our hasty retreat may have resulted in a slaughter—but for the Savages overreaching themselves.
That is to say, Your Lordship, that our enemies presumed the city to be an easy conquest. It turned out not to be, and by then the enemy had invested their energy in the wrong place.
For as soon as our troops began to gather at the outskirts of the town, a new life bled into them. They regained more of the methodical expertise Durno training is famous for, and managed to push back against the ferocious Savages.
It took most of the darkness to bear this out, for new onslaughts from the enemy occurred at intervals. They would disappear into the darkness and reappear. But as the two suns rose up again—marvel of marvels!—the exhausted enemy was nowhere to be seen, and the fighting had not spread beyond the outskirts of Valemteim.
It is now late in the passage of those very suns. Our forces are battered and fearful for what darkness might bring.
But our worries also occupy us in a healthy way—I have noticed a solidity in the populace determined to survive these exceptional times.
I fear my leadership in this time of war has not measured up to the requirements of my responsibilities. I did take my turn in battle, and I did swing a sword, but I did not succeed in killing a single savage—and all the soldiers beheld my pitiful attempts. Nothing was said, but I need not hear words to read men’s minds.
I therefore urge Your Lordship to send a Governor in my place, for the position is much mightier than my own worth will pay. My mind is better suited to pursuing answers to the celestial riddles facing us in this time than be responsible for defending Your Lordship’s city. I cannot lay this burden upon a better person’s shoulders, however, save by Your Lordship’s direction. So I will carry on doing as much as I can—till death or Your Lordship part me from it.
I am humbly and obediently.
Lysimon Hildec, of the House of Drapeter
[XX] Seventeenth passage of the Two Suns since “the Catastrophe,” Fourteenth passage in the month of the Crown.
For the ear of his Lordship, Talenés IV, by the hand of Lysimon, scribe and interim-Governor of Valemteim.
In a time that now seems to belong to another age, I believe it would have been possible for Your Lordship to answer my epistle by courier within two passages of Celem.
Since our cause is in dire need of Your Lordship’s assistance, and I cannot be certain of my earlier epistle even making it to Your Lordship’s Court, I am resolved to send another summarizing the first. I enclose a copy of events as they were recorded, while the present epistle informs Your Lordship of updates in the situation—in case you did receive my earlier report.
In the shortest path, Your Lordship, we are under siege. The Savages, having a steady store of grains now in hand, continued to press upon us, stationing scouting groups just within sight of Valemteim. They disappear at the first sign of an armed dispatch, but reappear when it is safe to do so again.
Only in the darkness do they stage attacks, meant only to menace our guards, keeping them on edge. The last three darknesses they have attempted a variety of tactics, from noise making to ranged weapon assaults—some using fire in attempts to burn out buildings and walls.
Tirión has ordered a guard perimeter to stand outside the town. These heavily armed soldiers are ordered to stay within sight of one another and support each other in case of attacks.
The strategy has been effective in defending Valemteim—so far—but the cost to the Retainer’s nerves is high. We have managed to lose a handful of them to well-coordinated attacks, which has become a kind of game for the Savages.
I am not certain Tirión knows very well what he is doing. After all, never in recent memory have our forces been in such a vulnerable position so close to our own settlements—let alone the Second City of the Realm! And it may require a different kind of strategy. I have therefore been hard at work reading the Chronicles and any other texts I could salvage about our past battles to see if there is something that can be learned.
Only two other Royal stores are outside Valemteim, but I have requested they not be guarded, for fear of it drawing the Savages. If they capture another Royal store, I believe our chances would be greatly imperiled.
The populace live in shifts, and everyone has a task appointed to them. Many stand watch for a period of time, some fix and enhance weapons, some cook—for since the Catastrophe the citizens have increasingly chosen to eat in great groups. Some watch over the sick in the Physician’s Hall.
Which brings me to my next information to report: The fate of the young Devotionist rescued from the wilderness. His health continues to improve, he spends more and more time awake, though he only babbles incomprehensibly. I fear madness has consumed his higher faculties, except for an interesting fact: the soothing touch of a woman will calm him to the point of silence. These last for certain periods of time before he drifts back to sleep. It is our hope to communicate with him in this interval.
The two lights are disappearing above and I hear shouts from the walls. I close this epistle with the ardent request for support and advice, and Retainers.
Humbly and obediently,
Lysimon Hildec, of the House of Drapeter
Continue reading the An account of the Great Cataclysm - Part 4