Uninvited Guests
This book can be found on a lectern in Hevhlak. It contains a story told by the Wingmaker Arjen, warning the residents of Hevhlak about Tethlaen and assuring them that the Wingmakers have renounced him.
Coordinates¶
| X | Y | Z |
|---|---|---|
| 2205 | 69 | 181 |
Transcription¶
We Ro of Hevhlak are far from beloved by the Scalebound of Naharja, and we would rather die than bend a knee to an officer of Talon or Moonsworn. But we remain a pious people, and when Aspect faith thrives, Wingmakers are never far behind. We try to offer them hospitality when they come, but these are difficult times.
So when a party of three Wingmakers arrived in town yesterday afternoon, you could have cut the tension with a knife. Issah Soo and Mazak were common enough guests, clad in the bright colors of their order and armed with lute and clarinet. But the third was a rare sight indeed: Arjen Silvermoon, former consort to the Founder Froslea, and legendary storyteller.
Only Arjen’s eyes betrayed his age. He was wiry and far more agile than any of the villagers, except perhaps the children, whom he chased around until dusk in a chaotic game of Sheep and Dragons that left us elders frantically counting heads.
After our evening rituals to the Lordlady, we gathered for a communal bonfire. Issah Soo played a chipper series of jigs as Arjen and Mazak helped us distribute portions of freshly-baked bread and sandtrout. I kept one eye on them at all times, and took note of any youths about whom the Wingmakers seemed to take interest. They would not be luring any away from us if I could help it!
I must admit, however, that I let my guard down as the night wound on. After a hauntingly beautiful performance by Mazak, it was Arjen’s turn. Bright scales shimmering in the firelight, he told us a tale that I will not soon forget.
"The Ever-Fear is known by many names. Lord of the Void. Bane of Joy. Betrayer of the Realm. The Harbinger. It is unclear what minor flower of the Primal Tree or loins of an Aspect that he sprung from, but it is said that his original name was Tethlaen.”
Though all of this was well-known by the assembled adults, as I looked around, every face was turned to the storyteller in rapt attention. His amber eyes were like deep pools of honey into which I resigned myself to sink. For several minutes, Arjen’s words were all I knew. I still remember every blasted one, Diary, and I am recording them here for posterity:
“Tethlaen preferred the form of a great flying lizard in the days of legends and heroes, and he struck quite a hideous figure. Upon his four scaled legs were swordlike talons. His two great wings were as black as night. He had eight piercingly blue eyes and a maw with three rows of evenly-spaced razor-edged teeth. He was a loner, and would often disappear for long stretches of time.
In other words, he was not well-beloved by his siblings.
In those days, Tethlaen often took the guise of a traveler. He would arrive at a distant kingdom and use the nobles’ concerns about backstabbings to rise through the ranks until he had access to the ears of the monarch themselves. Then, he would indoctrinate the youngest and most vulnerable citizens through re-education. His goal, always, was to create a new order through fear. To pacify and make weak.
Kind Wyrm Moen, arbiter of the Aspects, intimated these details to my partner during her training to form the recruiting division of the Tehrmari which later became my order. You see, my friends, the Wingmakers were created to carry on the legacy of Tethlaen. To bring the Elder Will to those who live without it, no matter how far away they are, and to find others who will go far away to help our cause and to venerate the gods.
I know how you see us. As child-stealers. Company to be tolerated, but kept at a distance. In some sense I cannot blame you.
But I tell you now as a fellow Tehrmari, a friend, and a peer. We have no love in our hearts today for the Ever-Fear. We, the Wingmakers, have renounced him. We abhor his betrayal of the Aspects and his underhanded tactics. His role in inviting the outsiders that destroyed the empire of Avsohm.
Nor are we blind to the evil that now festers across the land today. To the rumors of travelers going missing and family members found maimed in the woods with no memory of their plight. And I tell you firmly and unequivocally: this is not the work of Wingmakers. We stand with you against this growing threat.
For I myself see them, my friends. Eight luminous orbs and a fanged maw in the darkness. Every time I try to sleep. Though even the Aspects cannot locate their loathsome brother, he is there in my nightmares.
Should you choose to join us one day, you are welcome in our ranks. Only together do we stand a chance against this darkness among our ranks.
Whatever you do, however, don’t leave this village alone.“
With that, Arjen stood up, a haunted look on his face. The other two Wingmakers helped him into his voluminous cloak. With a single “Farewell”, he was gone into the night like an unmoored spirit.
For several minutes, the village stood there, transfixed. The children did not laugh or cry, but were still. Only the crackling of dying embers was audible in the gloom of a starless sky.
In time, life returned to the village commons. I fled to my home, but no sleep greeted me. So I pulled out my pen and wrote. Only now do I feel the pangs of fatigue. Goodnight, diary. And may the eyes of Tethlaen never find me in the night.