The Lost Eight by Duron Crejaro (read me a book .TXT) 📕

Upon reaching the hall, Dearn bid her farewell. She smiled, promising to visit him again later that day. Dearn shook his head as she pranced off. He hoped she would stay out of trouble. He considered her overall, a good child. The two made an odd pairing of friends, and were constantly seen with each other, at least when Dearn was able to get free time from his duties within the priesthood. Yes, she was definitely a good kid, if somewhat misguided in his opinion. He had met her when he first came to the city several years ago to devote himself to Siladia. His Adrari tutor at that time had been very cross with him about his decision, calling it a horrendous waste of potential. Apparently the tutor had never had a pupil that had shown as much natural talent as Dearn had, only to give it up for a life of service of Siladia. Yet the decision had not shocked his parents, he had always been a giving soul, quick to help those in need, especially the infirm and elderly.

Today, much to his chagrin was one of the duties that he detested to no end. Today was the weekly meeting of the council, and he was one of three journeymen that would be attending the Temple of Siladia representatives at the assembly. Each temple had three masters in attendance. The Adrari were the main power within Thyrinn, but in a show of unity, the various accepted religions were granted a degree of power as well. He scoffed inwardly at this as he entered the main hall. Power was an overstatement in his mind. The assemblies almost never actually solved any problems. Dearn considered it a dog and pony show, with all the real dealings being done behind closed doors and in backroom parlors. He dreaded sitting for hours, listening to the council argue about the news of the realm.

Master Atrimez was already seated in the hall, as were many of the other attendees. Dearn quietly shuffled over to Atrimez and gave him a light tap on the shoulder. The master glanced up briefly giving a nod in his direction. "Sorry for my tardiness. I ran into Kaelina on my way over." he said in a hushed tone.

The master seemed to roll his eyes a little. He knew of the young priests friendship with the orphan girl, even if he did not approve. Every priest has to have his project though. Something he was quite fond of saying to the younger initiates. "It's fine. Some of the Adrari are late arriving anyway."

It was Dearn's turn to roll his eyes, the Adrari, always treating others as inferiors and wasting time. It was one of the reasons that he had decided to dedicate to the temple rather than pursue his Adrari powers. His parents had been a bit disappointed by his choice, even if they were not surprised, but they allowed him to make it.

After a few more minutes, the last of the Adrari arrived. The meeting was called to order and business began in earnest. The topics varied widely, from merchant problems, all the way to patrols on the border of the Desolation, to simple city ordinances and social unrest within the other city-states. Nothing of great importance ever seemed to be discussed when he was forced to attend. He highly doubted it was any different any other time.

The Adrari had taken control after the old empire split apart a little over four hundred years before. The civil war that followed had several city-states vying for power on the eastern continent. Kynnory, Calleron, Amlily and Thyrinn had all be involved. Eventually after the destruction of the old capital Thrynmore, the Adrari had consolidated their power enough to claim dominion over the fractured nation. Knowing that their new hold over the lands was tenuous at best, they had instituted a representative government, with themselves at the head. The city-states were given a degree of anonymity and generally allowed to keep their own councils and rules, so long as they followed the overall lead of Thyrinn and its Adrari council. This at least gave the disenfranchised people some semblance of being in control of their own fate. Over the centuries that followed the Adrari had grown in power, with nothing but the power of the priesthood to challenge them. The Clergy's power was the only thing the Adrari respected, albeit grudgingly.

His mind drifted during the meeting, as it usually does. He tried to pay attention, but the dullness always caused it. He thought of the last time he had seen his family. It had been nearly four years now. He had rode off from Kynnory and the family farm with only a little sadness in his heart. Mostly he missed his brother, Creolis. After showing only a mediocre aptitude in the Adrari, he had apprenticed into the Kynnorian Knights, not surprising since his swordsmanship was excellent. The two had spent their youth working with their father’s horses, which coupled with the swordsmanship training Elris had given them prepared Creolis early on for a life in the knighthood. Sadly, it had been nearly two years since he had seen him. After attaining a full position within the knighthood, he had requested a position nearer to their home. Dearn hoped that one day, in the not to distant future, he could also garner a quiet position in the countryside. Somewhere he could get away from the dreary politics of the big city, and get back to what his true passion was, helping the people of Mris.

"And finally, onto the loss of contact with Fort Konway." The moderator announced loudly. This comment brought Dearn back to reality. He recognized the name right away, everyone knew of the fort that lay so close to Kynnory. He had even visited it once as a child. Loss of contact he thought to himself, considering it quite abnormal. At almost every post and in every city of decent size, a specialized member of the Adrari was stationed. This person was known as the Saluth Mendora, The Speaker of Minds, capable of using a special focus to enhance their natural Adrari powers and communicate with others similarly trained with their minds.

"We have no proof that anything is wrong. Communication lapses happen. Maybe the Saluth Mendora has fallen ill? Or possibly had an accident. It could very well be that a messenger has already been dispatched to alert us of this." Suggested someone from the other side of the room.

"No, we should send a scouting party to find out for ourselves." interrupted another.

"What of Kynnory? Why not message them and have them send someone? They are only a few days ride from the fort." Recommended yet another.

The voices all began to go at once, each trying to talk over the other. Each having their own idea of what the best course of action was. Some even began to declare that maybe the fort had been overrun, or worse they could be under invasion. Others discounted this theory loudly to the council. Dearn could tell there seemed to be legitimate concern in some of the voices. Rumors had been spreading through the different clergy recently Dearn knew. There were quiet whispers and rumors of strange creatures coming across the Desolation, and trying to sneak in the city. There was even reportedly increased activity of the foul creatures that inhabited that god-forsaken land. The priests of Kynny had recently been in an uproar about having to send extra patrols into the area. Putting lives of knights in jeopardy for simple patrols into the Desolation was one of their more unpopular jobs. The council seemed so caught up in its own little bureaucratic world that little was ever accomplished. Today would be no different. The assembly ended with a wait and see approach, with a promise that it would be brought up again at next weeks meeting. Dearn was sorely disappointed as he made his way back to the temple complex with Atrimez.

They entered the lavish chambers reserved for those that had attained the rank of master. It was decorated in the most recent styles, lush rugs; extravagant throw pillows littered the room. A plush couch in the common area, Atrimez took a seat slowly, his old bones releasing a groan as he did. Dearn grabbed a small glass from a nearby table, pouring the elder man a glass of scotch. "Ah, thank you Dearn. These tired old bones could use a stiff drink." He said taking the glass from Dearn.

"Sir, what is with the councils inaction?" a rueful displeased tone awash in his tone.

"Hmm?" Atrimez replied after draining the glass. Dearn noted he had always been overly fond of the drink, and nine out of ten times; it seemed to loosen his tongue when it came to discussing matters that were generally only privy to those of higher ranks.

"They talk and talk, but nothing ever gets done. What if something bad has actually happened at Fort Konway? The council should care more about the happenings of this nation, instead of worrying about their paltry lives of luxury. Even some of the Temples are guilty of overindulgence these days."

Atrimez waved off the comment, holding out the glass for a refill, "I'm sure everything is fine. What does it matter to you anyway?" In his aging state, it seemed as though he were forgetting small details about those he associated with.

"I'm from Kynnory remember? That's right near Fort Konway. Also my brother Creolis is a member of the Kynnorian and is stationed at that outpost." He refilled the glass, watching the elderly priest drain it again, the concern apparent in his voice.

"Oh, that's right. You'll have to forgive this old mans memory. It isn't what it used to be. I'm sure everything is perfectly fine. The Saluth Mendora probably just got injured somehow. You know how the Adrari are, always something happening to them eh?"

"I'm not so sure Atrimez. There have been a lot of strange rumors lately."

"Ah bother, there are always rumors of this and that around here. Its just talk."

"What about the extra patrols into the Desolation?"

Atrimez raised a faintly tipsy brow, "How did you know about those?"

"The lower acolytes do talk amongst themselves and the other temples you know.” He returned, a little aggravated that the high-ranking priest seemed to think that they were the only ones that knew anything.

"Still I'm sure it's nothing. I'm sure we will hear word from Fort Konway soon. Then you'll see everything is perfectly alright."

"I sure hope you're right. If you'll excuse me sir, the council has tired me. I'm going to retire for the evening."

"Yes, yes. Do close the door on your way out please." The elderly man said, retrieving the flask for another glass as he spoke offhandedly.

Dearn gave a slight nod and turned to leave. He noticed a shift in the shadows at the corner of the room. This stopped him for a second, as he sent a glance towards the ventilation grating. He heard a quiet scuttling noise. Shrugging it off as rats or some other creature he continued on, closing the door behind him. He rapidly made his way though the temple to the journeyman’s section of housing to retire for the evening. Thoughts of home and his brother worried at his mind awhile, as he stared out the small window of his room. While his thoughts attempted to unravel themselves, he lay staring at the moon Repik. It was just beginning its weeklong trek across the heavens, eventually managed to slip into his dreams for the evening.