Chapter 67

Almerious

I could not comprehend why the Masters wished for us to aid the Queen’s cause. What was the reason they would want us to guide her in creating the very army she was building to resist them? Her attempt was futile, but even so, I could find no answer to my question.

I had discarded each possibility one by one. The first, and most apparent, was that they hoped our support would break the ancient pact established between us. We had sworn ourselves to create a world that would pose no threat to them, and in turn, they would withhold their arms and leave this world in peace. It had been the very foundation.

But it was foolish. The pact was bound by a power older than them, and merely following what they had ordered would not break it. So that still left me without an answer. What was their reason behind their actions?

I watched the black stones towering on the distant hilltop. For my fellow companions, it was nothing more than a place where the elders of our race gathered to hold council and share their wisdom. Only a few of us knew its true meaning and the secret that the flat, black stone in its centre held.

It was known as the Stone of Covenance by those among us who had been deemed ready to serve as keepers of our race’s ancient knowledge. For the rest, it was known as the Mirror of Truth. It allowed those in doubt to find the righteous answer by meditating on their reflection in the dark stone.

It was an old custom, chosen by the Masters to provide a channel for conveying their messages to those they considered worthy. But to carry the burden of their visions was a responsibility I would not give lightly to my fellow companions, and so it was a sorrow in my heart that I could not hinder them from seeking guidance and revealing the true reason they received answers to their doubts. All we could do was merely discourage it, urging them to find the wisdom in their hearts, away from the stone.

I saw Alexandros making his way up the hill, his silhouette carved against the evening sky. So he had come in search of advice from the stones. I knew he would. I could not stop him, but I would offer him my counsel as I had always done.

He had been Sara’s closest friend, and he had mourned greatly when I banished her. His mind was almost as keen as hers, but even with the risk he posed, he had been spared from my fire. His convenient death would raise too many questions about why Sara would have turned against her closest friend. So I’d let him be for now.

I began to walk. I knew I needed to be careful with my words. He saw more than the others, but to his merit, he kept it to himself. But then another question arose: how much did he really know?