- 10th of Autumnstime, 663...
Duke Melghast walks through the lifeless, dimly lit halls of his ancient family home. He passes the priceless artifacts prominently displayed in the dust-covered hallways with an air of urgency. The memories they evoke of the year-long crusades in which they had been given, found or won are now forever tainted by bitterness. He should have been here instead, he realises. He remembers the walls closing in around him during those dark months after returning home to the news of the death of his beloved Eleanor. Before mad hope found its way to him. Less than a year has passed. He knows now that by the time he realised the depth of his own desperate grief, it had been too late. Mere weeks after his return, several shady persons had received a sealed letter, written by the Duke himself. Evander Melghast had fallen from grace. He knows this well. As he enters the foyer, his grip on the small chest tightens. He is greeted by the stern, accusing eyes of his ancestors. The portraits of the Melghast family tree tower above him on the southern wall. Almost involentarily, he looks up.
Sir Melchior and Lady Gabriella Melghast Sir Greggor and Lady Melanie Venn
Sir Evander and Lady Eleanor Melghast
Zacharias Melghast
Once a source of inspiration, Evander is now taunted by the symbolism of the blue and white coat of arms resting above the family tree. A majestic, white griffon reaching up for a single, bright star with one claw, while holding a lance in the other. Backing away, the fallen knight hurries down the stairs toward the catacombs below. Beyond the secret passage lies the only room in the mansion now in use. Evnder forces a bitter smile, thinking that it truthfully conveys the impression of a wealthy noble having committed himself and his fortune to the defiance of death. He places the small chest on a table before opening it carefully. A large, black pearl rests against the chests' white velvet decor. Its surface mirrors a painting across the room. It dipicts a beautiful, young woman sitting gracefully in a chair. Behind her stands a young man. They both smile hapily. Evander frantically sets to work, reinvigorated by the acquisition of yet another component. One step closer.
Twelve days pass...
"Good evening, Inquisitor." The knight lowers her head respectfully as the the old priest draw near. Light, powdery snow descends slowly through the brisk night air. Father Heim nods briefly. "Lady Isabelle, it is done?" There is a sad undertone to the simple question. "It is done, Inquisitor. It was as we feared." she says grimly. The priest peers through the broken iron gates. The ancient, monolithic structure beyond them is silent and dark. Old, thick creepers reach up over the stone walls and pointed archways of the old mansion. A single light flickers inside the courtyard. "And the summoning?" A hint of anxiety is detectible in the priest's otherwise calm voice. "Incomplete. We got here in time." His sigh of releaf goes unheard but his tense shoulders drop visibly. "Thank Helm." Lighter at heart he walks slowly through the gates and into the courtyard, where the rest of the inquisitorial troops await him. A dusin stern figures stand silently at its center, surrounding the remains of the fire that has consumed the heretical scripts and tokens.
So few, the old priest thinks as he approaches the gathering. "Inquisitor." Sir Elias turns from the dying fire, lifting a flickering torch above his head. "We came in time, thank The Watcher. He hesitates, something clearly afoul. "But we lost five this night. Duke Melghast's heresy ran deep." Heim's heart sinks once again. He nods in silence, lifting his hand to his heart. "What shall we do with what remains?" Father Heim sweeps back his hood, only now seeing the row of silhouettes laying still against the slow-covered cobblestones. "Burn it." he almost sneers as he turns away from the sinister scene. "There is something else, Inquisitor" Sir Elias sais. "We found this." The tall knight holds out a small bundle toward the shaken priest. A thin whimper escapes from the folds of the tightly wrapped cloth. "It is his son. He is... untainted." Almost involuntarily Heim takes the small boy, holding him protectively. "You will come with me, young noble." he hears himself say.
Thirteen years pass...
"I relinquish all titles and lands, pledging to own no more than my mount can carry..." Sir Elias speaks the binding words of the sacred vow in calm and gentle tones as if it is a much beloved poem. The knight is kneeling before the simple shrine at the centre of the grove, nested between five ancient oaks. Golden light streams through the majestic trees as the sun gradually sinks toward the horizon. "... and I shall spurn those whom I love." Knowingly, Zacharias' eyes wander across the small circle of people towards Lady Isabelle. She is wearing a long, beautiful deep-red dress in place of her usual armour. For a brief moment, he sees golden light relected in a tear rolling down her cheek. She is beautiful as she stands there, he thinks, bravely realising the permanency of the ancient rite. "No obstacle shall stand before me and no plea for help shall find me wanting." Elias continues. Father Heim is kneeling a step behind the tall knight, his head lowered, deep in prayer."No moon shall look upon me twice least I be judged idle, for that which is sublime I shall protect, and that which threatens, I shall destroy." Zacharias wants nothing more than to rush from his place in the circle - to kneel down beside Elias and share his oath. He desperately wants to share whatever fate Helm would grand one of his chosen. But he knows that this is not his time. Patience, he tells himself in an echo of Father Heim's gentle teachings, as Elias finishes his vow. "I shall never yield while I still draw breath, giving my body, heart and soul to this quest for which Helm, The Watcher, calls."
Elias rises to receive the blessing of Father Heim and says his farewells to each member of the gathering, spending a brief, intense moment with each one in turn. Seeing the young boy's poorly disguised yearning, Elias speaks to him with a smile "You will make old Heim proud, young noble. I am certain of it." They hug briefly. Zacharias' heart is heavy as he sees Elias and Isaballe looking into each others' eyes as they exchange a few deep-felt words. He gently strokes her cheek before turning to his horse. Moments later he is gone.
Three years pass...
"I should never have told you of your father's heresy, young noble." Heim says quietly as he watches the young man pack his few possessions with frantic speed. Zacharias looks up briefly. The old priest stands in the doorway to the small chamber. He looks small and fragile. "It is my name, Father. I refuse to hide it and I refuse to see it scorned." To wise to argue, Father Heim just says "I know." He had barely anticipated the fury he had stirred in the young man the night before. Now, his determination was absolute.
Zacharias can feel their eyes against his back as he walks down the road from the small Helmite church. He turns briefly, raising a hand as a final farewell. Isabelle, Heim and the others smile at him as he turns. He still feels the warmth of their embrace. They had not opposed his sudden decision as he had expected them to. The road forks and turns sharply to the south. An old sign hangs from a tree in the roadside. It says: "Offestry". The young man continues walking.
To be continued...