“I will someday destroy the entire world,” he had shrieked when summoned to the Garden of the Twelve early after he was taken, and all the Host had laughed but one. But echoes of those long ago emotions sometimes lingered: astonishment, harrowing realization, the numbness of betrayal, and finally a long-smoldering anger. The world had changed so vastly, and he was no longer a terror-stricken, bewildered boy. The glimpses into past times were never quick to last. Commencing with your conveying these orders, face to face.Īt the other end of the world, in a place of mutable time, occasionally-cruelly-some trick of light in a changing sky evoked in Siamis’s memory the cloud ships of Yssel, the last of which he witnessed sinking slowly to a fiery death nearly five thousand years ago: dragon-ribbed keelson, spars of glowing crystal, and vast sails iridescent as wasp wings. Reports to be made in person, through you. Since we received no new orders, and information was long after the fact, we stayed tight with standing orders. I found out through gossip that Kessler took the texts back, and I reported that, too. Jilo of the Chwahir was either given it, or was given the location by Kessler Sonscarna. Why was I not alerted about the blood mage text? Did any of you try to secure it? He reached the last, considered the lacunae, then sat down to write a coded note. There was no sign of Siamis, nor any report. He stepped over the dead and entered the command center, currently deserted as the mage Dejain and the military commander Bostian stalked one another elsewhere in the fortress.īecause there is no time measure in the Beyond, he found the date-and calculated how long he’d been gone-via the accumulation of messages in the dispatch tray.
This chronicle begins with Detlev, who emerged from Norsunder Beyond into the center of a violent struggle for power at Norsunder Base.
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