Perhaps he had inflated expectations for those residing in such places, but their clothing aside, men and women alike were rather ordinary in their appearance. Not the bigger than life aura about them the movie industry led one to believe they possess.
He nods to several, even offering a ‘hello’ to one grim looking individual wearing richly attire. But all that was given back was indifference, if they even took the time to glance his way that is. Despite the cold reception, he is ecstatic at being in such close proximity to a real, bona fide, castle!
Their path takes them down a short lane passing between two stone structures which had to have been at least four stories tall where it opened onto a courtyard with a magnificent four tiered fountain amidst many beautifully flowering plants and bushes. Situated upon pedestals, statues and sculptures rose above the flowering bushes about the area. James takes note of several young ladies talking and laughing as they take their ease on a pair of benches placed near the fountain. One girl in particular, with flowing auburn hair, makes James’ heart skip a beat when he spies her standing there by the fountains with naught but her profile visible to him. But what a vision of beauty that profile was. His eyes lingered on her for a second too long, for she turns and their eyes meet. About to turn his gaze away, he stops when she gives him a smile and waves at him as he passes through.
James waves back, feeling a little weak in the knees and awkwardly stumbles into a bush bordering the walkway. The unexpected obstruction causes him to trip and tumble to the ground. Red-faced and feeling the fool, he quickly gets back to his feet. The laughter of the girls by the fountain only worsens the feeling of embarrassment. He turns to find them pointing over toward him, laughing. Ears burning and feeling for all the world like curling up and dying right there, he hesitantly looks to the auburn haired girl only to find her smiling. But such is the manner in which she smiles that his pride is at least in a small portion restored. Giving her a quick, shy smile, he hurries to catch up with the page who has almost reached the other side of the courtyard.
Catching up with him he asks, “Who was that girl by the fountain?”
The page pauses and turns his head to glance back at the group by the fountain, “Which girl?”
Pointing, he says, “That one.”
“Oh, that is the Princess Alliende,” the page replies as he continues toward the edge of the courtyard.
A Princess! A real honest to goodness princess, and she smiled at me! Reaching the edge of the courtyard, he looks back before he leaves and sees Princess Alliende still watching him. Seeing that he is looking, she waves at him one more time. Smiling a crooked smile, he waves back and then leaves the courtyard hurrying after the page.
Once out of the courtyard, he’s led down another avenue until arriving at a medium sized building made of stone, with a single large wooden door standing open at the top of several steps. Leading James up the steps and in through the door, the page takes him down a hallway, past several doors until coming to a pair of double wooden doors at the end. Upon each of the doors is engraved the same symbol that had sealed the letter Ellinwyrd sent. The page taps upon the door and from within comes a muffled, “Enter!” at which the page opens the door and steps to the side, motioning for James to enter the room.
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
