Outwardly, Ayna was a complete contrast to Nyori. Ayna's raven tresses cascaded to her shoulders in shimmering waves and her skin was copper-toned, where Nyori was light and her long, sandy-colored hair pulled into a simple braid. While mosaic patterns of beads and polished stone decorated Ayna's burgundy-shaded dress, Nyori still wore the simple mouse-colored garb of an apprentice. And where Ayna's dress accentuated her womanly hips and bosom, Nyori's dress revealed…not much at all. She sighed.
"I told you everything already. A hundred times over, Mistress." How long have we been at this? Time spent repeating variations of the same story made hours feel like days. Ayna was not harsh, but she was ever insistent; her gaze interrogated without cruelty, yet her will was indomitable. Sweat beaded on Nyori's brow from the effort of trying to recollect memories that faded like dreams.
The remembrance of what occurred was hazy at best, much like Everfell itself. Halladen had been abuzz since the incident at the Pools. Many of the men had donned arms, and scouts ranged the vicinity. Everyone seemed to step as though expecting a sudden attack. Fear and uncertainty lay in the eyes of many; a foreign expression to a place that had only known peace as long as Nyori had dwelled there.
Nyori wanted to be out among her people, her adopted family. She wanted to let them see that she was all right and in good health. Perhaps it would ease their minds and help to dampen the anxiety that hovered over the abode like clouds heavy with the threat of rain. But Nyori had been closeted away as soon as she was declared well, and Ayna had beat her over the head with questions ever since.
Nyori had forgotten how small her room was because she was rarely in it. She didn't have much in the way of possessions, and she liked to spend her time pestering the elder Sha for lessons or picking their brains with one of the million questions that flooded her mind. She used her room for sleep more than retreat and barely decorated it beyond the plain but sturdy furniture she inherited from its last occupant. In her seclusion the walls seemed to press in, the ceiling lower every time she looked up. She didn't know how much she could take of the suffocating atmosphere.
"Again, Nyori. Perhaps we can find a clue in what you may have missed before."
Nyori sighed. "It is like I told you. The Eye of Everfell flashed like lightning. I was…taken. When I could see again I was somewhere else entirely."
"You were fortunate." Ayna's quiet tone gave her words extra weight. "Without the focus to link back to your Outer mind, you may never have woken again. But that is not the only danger you faced. You physically vanished, Nyori. That has never occurred in the history of our dealings with the Eye."
Nyori hunched her shoulders uncomfortably. "I never tried to go anywhere, Mistress. I would not know how even if I wanted to."
"I know." Ayna's eyes narrowed in thought. "Yet that is exactly what you did. Or, what someone allowed you to do. The Threshold you entered is a mystery as well. If you did not summon it, then the question remains—"
"Do you know how it could have happened?" Nyori wasn't sure she wanted to know. The look on Ayna's face only confirmed her fears.
"I have not been idle while you recovered from your ordeal. This will be difficult to understand, Nyori. I'm afraid the truth may be more than you can bear."
"Tell me." Nyori was surprised at the steadiness of her voice.
"You truly were physically taken into Everfell."
Nyori's head throbbed as the memory resurfaced. "I had thought Everfell was just the name of the Eye. You know of it?"
Ayna's eyes were distant as though seeing something beyond the walls of the tiny room. "Yes, I know of it. It is a realm outside of our world. A place where time does not operate as it does here. Nor many of our other natural laws."
"I don't understand."
Ayna sighed. "Nor do I. Not much. It sounds easy to understand when explained in the safety of the seminary, but Everfell is far more complex. The best description for it is the 'expanse in between realities.' You have to understand that up until now the Pools have been used to view a motley of visions at the point of convergence we called the Eye. It provided views of past events, even glimpses of the future."
"But where did the Eye come from?"
"We do not know. It and the Pools have existed before the Sha settled here. We believe they are a construction of the Aelon, though why they left it operable is puzzling." Ayna's brow creased in thought. "Perhaps they knew this day would come."
"Aelon? But they are just stories…" Nyori's protest faded under Ayna's severe stare.
"The stories of the Aelon and their hybrid children, the Elious, are generally accepted as legends. Yet the tales of Stygan the Dreadlord, Talan the Dawnrider — they are all more fact than fable. There is a reason we remember the Aelon as myths and minstrel tales. Because they want it that way. But the Sha know better. Your education has only begun, but you must learn on the move now. Know this: the Aelon were the beings of power the stories claim them to be. They guided our civilization from dwelling in caves to ruling in grand palaces."
Nyori considered the stories she had heard since she was a child. The Five Sages. Stygan the Dreadlord. Reynar the Frey, beautiful Lian — Queen of Dragons, Riodran the Just, Teranse the Reader. Then there was Talan the Dawnrider, who led the children from the evil City of Glass and battled Anko, the Shadow Prince. And of course Brandon, the great Paladin who bore the sword Nemon.
Her breath caught. "The sword…it is the one from the stories—"
Ayna nodded. "Nemon. The Soul Net. It contained one of the more powerful fusorbs, called a Geod. Geods are much more powerful than standard fusorbs and far more scarce. Only five are known to exist, one for each of the Five Sages. Nemon's Geod was altered forever when Brandon freed those imprisoned and then disowned the weapon. Afterward, it was corrupted by Anko the Shadow Prince, who named it Mothros — a parasite that poisons its bearer slowly, draining their vitality until they fade into husks of their former selves. Then…death."
"How is that possible?" Nyori asked. "How can any mere object have such power?"
"We do not know the construction of the fusorbs of power, only that the Glyphs engraved on them bind to each fusorb their powers. We have many theories on how the Glyphs work, but it is impossible to prove any without a fusorb to study."
She glanced at the rod that lay on the table between them. "At least not until now."
Nyori followed Ayna's gaze. Eymunder was rather ordinary looking in the face of legends told about the fusorbs. She racked her brain for stories about the crystallized wand, but couldn't think of anything that would be of use. Supposedly it was used by Teranse the Reader in the casting of Apokrypy, but Nyori had no idea what Apokrypy was other than some arcane incantations that granted the speaker uncanny powers.
Ayna idly toyed with the net of tiny disks entwined in her hair. "So. The Eye transported you to Everfell, where you met a woman who claimed to be Death."
Nyori froze. "What? She told me her name was Leilavin."
"Leilavin is an ancient name. Older even than the stories you heard as a child. But the name when translated means Death in the True Verse."
Suddenly Leilavin's pallid skin and crimson eyes took a much more sinister tone. Those cold fingers had touched her. Nyori shuddered inwardly.
Ayna went on, unaware of Nyori's discomfort. "Of course, a name can be used by anyone. Legends say she was an Aelon before she took that guise. But that is neither here nor there. Without any more information, let's move to the next event. She led you to a table that somehow was able to identify you from reading your hands, which allowed you access to Eymunder, a fusorb believed long lost like so many others. And after being identified by the Glyphs at the table, you were able to bond with the fusorb."