AS TRISTAN TOOK IN HIS NEW SURROUNDINGS, THEmore he saw, the more astounded he became. He was lying atop a silken bed. Xanthus stood beside him, the Darkling’s human face staring down at him worriedly. The Paragon still shone brightly as it hung around Xanthus’ neck.
Turning his head, theJin’Sai saw a group of beings crowded around his bed’s foot. Men and women were in attendance. Each was elderly and wore a glistening white robe.
It took Tristan several moments to find his voice. “Are you the Heretics of the Guild?” he asked.
An elderly woman approached to stand by his bedside. She was tall and graceful, with long, gray hair. Her face was attractive, her expression calm. Her brown eyes seemed to bore their way into his.
“I am Hoskiko, one of Those Who Came Before,” she answered. “Five brothers and sisters of my order are here with me. The other six males and females you see are Heretics of the Guild. We welcome you in peace. You are the firstJin’Sai to reach us. Our world has long awaited your arrival.”
Tristan shook his head. “This can’t be!” he protested. “The Guild and the Ones are at war! I saw an entire army of the Ones destroyed by the Heretics! Why would bitter enemies like yourselves gather together?”
A man stepped forward. Like Hoskiko, he was elderly. His presence was commanding. His hair was gray, his chin strong. There was a resolute look in his eyes.
“It is preciselybecause we are enemies that we gather together,” he said. “My name is Faxon, and I am a Heretic. Like Hoskiko, I lead five specially selected brothers and sisters of my order. But we six Heretics did not kill the Ones’ army-others of our sect did that. We detest violence. Taken as a whole, we are the twelve Envoys of Crysenium.”
Tristan didn’t understand a word of what Faxon said. But he knew one thing-Xanthus had deceived him. He looked up at the Darkling with hate-filled eyes. Grabbing Xanthus’ duster, he roughly pulled him closer.
“You liar!” he said. “You told me you were taking me to the Heretics! Had I known that the Ones would be present, I might have come sooner! Innocent lives could have been spared!”
An immensely sad look overcame Xanthus’ face. To Tristan’s great surprise the Darkling went down on one knee before him and bowed his head. He started to speak, but Hoskiko waved a hand, cutting him off. Surprised by Xanthus’ reaction, Tristan released him.
“Did Xanthus lie to you?” Hoskiko asked Tristan. “Perhaps-but if he did, it was only by omission. If you must be angry with someone, be angry with us Envoys. He was only following our orders.” Hoskiko smiled at the Darkling.
“He did his job exceedingly well,” she added. “You see, Xanthus serves all twelve of us.”
Tristan felt a shudder go through him. Had Wigg, Faegan, and the late Directorate somehow been horribly wrong about the Ones? Xanthus was a servant of the Vagaries-he had said so himself. If the Ones were partly responsible for sending the Darkling through the pass, did the Ones also worship the Vagaries? His mind filled with unanswered questions, theJin’Sai stared worriedly at the twelve figures in the white robes.
Sensing his confusion, Hoskiko took him by the hand. Her touch was warm, reassuring. “Do not fear,” she said. “No harm will befall you here. It’s true that we purposely deceived you. But you must understand that not only were our motives just, but highly needed. After we tell you why you have been summoned, you will go home to Eutracia. We are about to burden you with a sacred mission. Whether it takes a day, a year, or your entire lifetime to finish, it must be done. If you are successful, you will forever change not only every living being’s future, but that of the craft, as well.”
Trying to understand, Tristan took a deep breath. “Are you speaking about Shailiha’s and my destinies?” he asked. “The destinies that are so often mentioned in the Tome?”
Hoskiko nodded. “The same,” she answered.
“I already know that my fate is to combine the craft’s two sides,” Tristan said. “If I should fail or die in my attempt, the burden falls to Shailiha. What I do not understand is why or how this is to be carried out.”
“The Tome has always been unclear on that point, has it not?” Faxon said. He gave Tristan a compassionate but also critical look that reminded him of Wigg. “Even your wizards are the first to admit that things are not always what they seem-especially about the craft.”
“First things first,” Hoskiko said. She held out one hand. “Come with us. There is much to discuss.”
Tristan stood from the bed. At first his legs were wobbly. Looking around again, he found his surroundings awe-inspiring. “Crysenium,” he said softly. “That must be an Old Eutracian word. Where are we?”
“Let us sit,” Hoskiko answered. “Then we will explain.”
Hoskiko took him by the hand. As they walked across the floor, Xanthus and the other Envoys followed. Walking farther, Tristan still couldn’t believe the place’s overpowering majesty. It was like being inside a palace made of azure glass.
They were crossing a huge circular room. It seemed to have been built of some sort of crystalline material, almost giving one the impression that it was made of ice. But that was not so, he realized, because the room’s atmosphere was warm and welcoming.
The spherical chamber was stunning. Azure columns by the dozens reached high into the air, their scrolled tops seeming to support nothing. There was no ceiling, and the sky overhead was blue, with white, fluffy clouds floating through it. The smooth floor and concave walls were made of the same shimmering material as the columns. A lovely melodious sound-much like that that produced by wind chimes on a breezy day-wafted gently through the air.
Although the room was open to the sky, no wind blew though the chamber, nor could Tristan detect any of the normal outdoor sounds one might expect to hear. Then he caught sight of some curved, reflected sunlight high above, and he understood. There was in fact a roof. Made of a clear material, its surface stretched from sidewall to sidewall, covering the entire room. It was breathtaking.
As they walked farther they entered a long hallway. Soon they came to another circular room constructed of the same material as the first one. Tristan saw several closed doors situated in the curved walls. They led to living quarters, he suspected.
At the room’s center sat a round, pure white table encircled by fourteen equally beautiful chairs. Half of the circular wall was devoted to the same transparent material that formed the ceiling in the other room. A beautiful pastoral view, much like the one he and Xanthus had just left behind, beckoned from the other side. Tristan again saw many exotic and unfamiliar plants, birds, and creatures. The scene was mesmerizing.
Hoskiko beckoned everyone to sit. As Tristan took a chair, Hoskiko and Faxon sat on either side of him. Xanthus and the remaining ten Envoys also took seats. Tristan eagerly started to ask a question when Hoskiko touched his hand, requesting that he remain silent. Understanding, he nodded.
Clearly, Hoskiko and Faxon would control these proceedings. The two mystics seemed to possess a quiet, innate power. Wigg, Jessamay, and Faegan each commanded the same type of dignified respect. But in Hoskiko’s and Faxon’s cases, Tristan sensed it far more strongly. Despite his overpowering need for answers, he resolved to be patient.
“First we will introduce ourselves,” Hoskiko said. “You have already become familiar with me, Faxon, and Xanthus.” She looked across the table to the other ten Envoys. “For theJin’Sai ’s edification, will each of you please state your name, and which order you represent?” she asked. “So that theJin’Sai will understand us, we will speak only in his eastern dialect, rather than our own. Is everyone agreed?” Each Envoy nodded his or her consent.
One by one the Envoys told Tristan who they were, and to which order he or she belonged. The three female Ones were Hoskiko, Mitsu, and Sakura. The men were Ichiro, Rinji, and Suzu. Of the Heretics, the men were named Faxon, Arvid, and Balsius. The Heretical women were Alma, Emilia, and Kristin. The Heretics sat as a group on Tristan’s right; the Ones sat on his left. Directly across the table from Tristan and separating the two groups sat Xanthus.
“You are wondering where you are,” Faxon started. “The explanation is not an altogether simple one.” Placing his hands flat atop the table, Faxon chose his next words carefully.
“Simply put, in Old Eutracian, Crysenium means, ‘Place of Peace,’” he explained. “Crysenium is not a country, a province, or even a city. It is a stand-alone construct of the craft, lovingly built and maintained by the gifted people you see at this table. Crysenium serves but one purpose-to secretly welcome you into our midst. Until Crysenium existed, we could not guarantee your safety. We painstakingly built Crysenium just after the Orb of the Vigors sliced through the Tolenka Mountains, joining the world’s two sides.”
“Where are we?” Tristan asked.
“We are even deeper inside the territory where Borderlands sometimes rage,” Hoskiko said. “Even so, the Borderlands occupy but a small portion of our world’s total landmass. Xanthus has already explained your journey, and what you endured to reach us. We therefore know that you already understand the Borderlands’ changing nature. Had we known that an army of the Ones was advancing, we would have waited, then sent Xanthus to fetch you later, when it was safer. As a group, we humbly apologize for the hardships you endured.”
“You say that you created Crysenium deep inside the Borderlands,” Tristan said. “It seems that you must have used magic to do so. But Xanthus told me that magic was of no use in the Borderlands.”
“True enough,” a female voice said from the table’s other side. “But there is more than one way to skin a cat, as you on the world’s other side are so fond of saying.”
It had been Alma who had spoken. Alma was easily as old as Hoskiko, with short gray hair. Even from across the table her eyes bored into Tristan’s.
“I don’t understand,” Tristan said.
“Even though magic is useless when the Borderlands are activated, the vast majority of time the area is the way you see it now, through this room’s window,” Alma said. “Crysenium was constructed quickly during those conditions, under cover of a spell allowing us to cloak our work. With the construct finished, another spell ensured that Crysenium remains cloaked. It’s true that the Heretics watch for intruders like the army you and Xanthus saw annihilated. But because of the vast distances involved, smaller groups of people are far more difficult for the Heretics to notice. The Heretics use the Borderlands to search for and destroy great enemy hordes-not groups of ten or twelve. Even so, we took a huge risk in building this place. Luckily, our spells held and we were successful. As long as our cloak remains in place, Crysenium is invisible to the Heretics. The Heretics rarely venture here, so this region is perfect for our needs. Rest assured that we have deceived them. If not we would be dead, and Crysenium destroyed. The more fanatical Heretics are not ones to leave stones unturned.” She smiled again.
“Besides,” she added, “the deadly Borderlands are the last place they would search for a secret craft construct.”
Tristan was stunned. “Do you mean to say that you risked your lives to build this place just for me? Why would you do that?”
“So that we could finally meet with aJin’Sai in secrecy,” Faxon said. “Even though the Ones and the Heretics remain embroiled in a deadly war, what happens on your side of the world is equally important. Three momentous developments have recently intersected in time. That is why you have been brought here. We must act quickly, for such a wondrous set of occurrences might never merge again.”
“What are they?” Tristan asked.
“The first is the creation of the azure pass,” Suzu said. A member of the Ones, he sat on Tristan’s left side. A gray, bushy beard adorned his face.
“The cutting of the pass through the Tolenka Mountains by the Vigors orb was an event much heralded by the Heretics,” Suzu added. “Despite appearances it was a random, unexpected occurrence. We know of no other force in the world powerful enough to have done that. In any event, the unexpected result of Wulfgar’s failed plan was the Tolenkan pass. When they learned of it, the Heretics were overjoyed.”
“Why?” Tristan asked.
“Because for aeons the Tolenkas had been insurmountable, even to the Ones and the Heretics,” Hoskiko answered. “Unfortunately, the pass exited this side of the Tolenkas in Heretic-controlled territory. At long last they had found a way to enter your side of the world, while the Ones could not. Now they can much more easily influence Eutracian and Parthalonian history. As an additional assurance that only they might use it, they immediately flooded the pass with convoluted magic. A special Forestallment is needed to safely navigate its length. Should anyone enter the pass without the Forestallment’s protection, death is immediate.”
Tristan looked across the table at the Darkling. “And Xanthus’ blood carries that Forestallment,” he mused.
“That’s right,” Hoskiko answered. “It also protected you.”
“You mentioned three important events,” Tristan said. “What are the other two?”
“One is your world’s discovery of how to alter the lean of a blood signature,” Faxon answered. “That is a major leap forward in your primitive understanding of the craft.”
“And what is the third development?” Tristan asked.
Leaning forward, Faxon stared intently into Tristan’s eyes. “With the coming of the pass, the Heretics saw it as a way to capture you, and keep you from fulfilling your destiny,” he said. “Among all theJin’Sai s ever born, you have come closest to honoring the Tome’s prophecies. The Heretics knew that your wizards would never allow you and your sister to enter the pass at the same time. But if they could first tempt you, they would then try to seduce Shailiha. And so they hatched a plan-one that involved Xanthus, and that they believed you couldn’t resist. In the end, it nearly worked. Had it not been for us twelve Envoys, you would be in the Heretics’ grasp this moment.”
Tristan looked across the table at the Darkling. “So the Heretics sent you to Eutracia to steal the Paragon and commit atrocities until I agreed to accompany you through the pass,” he said. He looked at Hoskiko. “But you said that Xanthus serves you all,” he protested. “What did you mean by that?”
“You have been told only part of Xanthus’ story,” she answered. “Rather than take you to the Heretics, he followed our orders and brought you here. No matter what you think of him, he is the only reason you’re still alive.”
“That might be,” Tristan said. “But not one of you has answered my first question. Why do the Ones and the Heretics sit peacefully together at the same table? Don’t tell me that all this has been done simply to save my life. You want something, and for some reason you need my help to get it.”
Hoskiko reached out to touch Tristan’s hand. “You must hear us out,” she said gently. “The three concurrent events we mentioned have granted us an unparalleled opportunity to finally secure peace between the two orders. That is why we built Crysenium. That is also why we brought you here.”
“That still does not explain why Ones and Heretics sit together at this table,” Tristan pressed.
Leaning closer, Faxon searched the prince’s face. “The simple truth is that not all the Heretics think alike anymore,” he answered. “We six represent a larger splinter group, hungry for peace. Unknown to our other Heretic brothers and sisters, our secret group is growing. But the fanatics who so vastly outnumber us wish to see the Vigors wiped out forever. That is why they have been meddling in your world’s affairs, Jin’Sai. They want to stamp out the Vigors wherever they find it. You and your sister have done amazingly well in your efforts to stop the Heretics’ destructive plans. But your struggles against them have been mere skirmishes in the overall battle between light and dark. For hundreds of generations, untold numbers of Ones and Heretics have been fighting and killing one another. And for what reason? we Envoys ask ourselves. The Ones know why they fight-the Heretics are so unrelenting in their attacks that the Ones must battle back simply to survive. The War of Attrition has been going on for so long that either side can scarcely remember why it started.” Pausing for a moment, Faxon sat back in his chair.
“Despite my wish for peace, I am still a high-ranking member of the Imperial Order,” he added. “That is our military wing. During my career I have ordered the deaths of countless Ones. Perhaps that is why I want a resolution so badly. Once I started discreetly making my feelings known, I was amazed to learn how many other Heretics shared my concerns. Soon a secret splinter group was born. The other Heretics here with me can all be trusted, Jin’Sai. They each want peace as badly as I do. That is why we call ourselves Envoys. We need help-help that only you or Shailiha can grant us.”
“But how can I, a person of untrained blood, ever hope to helpyou ?” Tristan asked. “Your powers and skills dwarf even those of my wizards!” Turning to look at the table as a whole, Tristan’s eyes searched every Envoy’s face. “It’s time you told me why you have brought me to this place,” he said. “It’s a story I’ve been destined my entire life to hear.”
Hoskiko nodded. “We know,” she said, “just as we have been waiting for aeons to welcome aJin’Sai into our midst, and to tell the tale. We are responsible for your and your sister’s existences. In turn, you and she are responsible for helping our world, here so far away. It has been this way since the War of Attrition started. With your coming, we hope to change things. We need each other-perhaps more than at any moment in our history. Please listen carefully as we explain your destiny’s true meaning.” Reaching out, she lovingly placed one hand against his cheek.
Gently, she said, “In many ways, it’s not what you have been led to believe.”