Lygeia Remembers Perivlon’s Grace

As a tear fell from his eye, he acknowledged us each in turn with a graceful nod. He told us how he mourned the death of his brother, and that an ancient evil had grown in strength and malignancy. Silence fell over the but lately happy crowd as fear clutched at our throats and sympathy poured from our souls. Turning his steps toward Allegria Island, Perivlon motioned to those willing to brave the sadness of his tale.

Toban of West and Gar came with me as Perivlon led us to guild hall he had built, each of us I think, knowing that this night would tumble us into events beyond our ken. I cannot explain why his presence so captivated me. Perhaps it was the manner in which his sorrow swelled in my own heart as he smiled gently at my concern; or perhaps it was his strength which quickened in my own limbs as he drew close for support.

Gracious as always, Perivlon saw to our comfort with wine and food before turning to his own concerns, but I was anxious to hear his words and could only nibble at the food absently. Toban wolfed down his with customary abandon. Soon enough, all voices were silent. Perivlon set down his glass and gazed steadily at us across the table.

“My sorrow is with my brother, Neraphet,” began Perivlon, his voice catching at the mention of Neraphet, “whose life was cut short by villainy and his own tendency to take a gambler’s risk.”

Perivlon steadied his voice with a deep breath and a drink of wine before continuing. “We lived in a village not too distant from here where our father worked a prosperous farm. He grew weak with age, though, and his vigorous and spritely body began to waste away as he fell ill. Soon, he was unable to do so much as rise from bed, and neither Neraphet nor I could do anything to ease his suffering.

“It was then that my brother conceived the notion to seek out a white dragon which was rumored to live in the mountains to the north. As everyone knows, a white dragon is a benevolent creature, and Neraphet thought he could prevail upon its goodness to help him.”

Perivlon looked down at his hands, spread open and empty upon his lap. He sighed, long and almost helplessly before his hands slowly closed into fists and he again met our eyes.

“Neraphet set out before dawn without telling anyone of his plan. His long, determined strides had him high in the rugged hills before noon where he came upon what looked like a game trail leading straight up the steeply forested slope of the mountain, though never had he seen one that so obviously traced the most difficult path. Neraphet smiled to himself knowingly and took to the trail with the eagerness of a hound with a nose full of its quarry’s scent.

“The slope grew rocky as he climbed and the trees thinned to scrubby brush where not a single bird was heard. The only sound was the wind rushing over the rocks, moaning is if cut by their sharp edges. Then, as the sun swelled to fiery orange on the horizon, Neraphet came upon the gaping maw of a cave, seemingly alight from the rays of the setting sun.

“Neraphet walked boldly into the cave, and though he had expected it, the sight of the mounds of gold and glittering jewels heaped to the very roof of the cave took his breath away. He approaced the treasure in wonderment until he looked down to see what was crunching underfoot and clattering as he kicked through the debris.

“Bones. The skulls and ribs and arms of every species of furre lay as a macabre carpeting the length and breadth of the cave floor. Neraphet gasped and stumbled back in shock, tripping over the bones and falling with a noisy crunch. Before him, what he had taken for the cave wall lurched toward him and the horned, scaly head of a red dragon loomed malevolently over his prone body.”

I could not suppress a cry of horror, and I clutched Toban’s hand tightly until he gently pulled my claws from his palm. Gar’s eyes were wide as his own hand went to the hilt of his sword in an unconcious movement.

“A shower of dust loosed from the ceiling fell on Neraphet as the dragon roared with malicious laughter,” continued Perivlon. His voice shook with the effort it cost him to speak of dragon’s treachery. “'I am Meratill, mightiest of my ancient race!' the dragon thundered. 'Did you think to find a dragon of a different color? Ha! A simple ruse to lure foolish mortals into my cave. Your life is now forfeit to feed my power!'

“Neraphet scrambled away from the consuming heat of Meratill’s voice, desperately searching for an answer that would deliver him from the death he saw in the dragon’s baleful eye. Little hope of that, he knew, but then his eye was caught by the the mounds of gold. Neraphet pulled himself to his feet and met the dragon’s eye as bravely as his shaking limbs allowed.

“'My life is worth little,' he said. 'But I would bargain for it with whatever price you name. Whatever treasure you most desire, I will deliver if you but set me free.'

“'Deliver to me, then, a treasure worth more than this horde of gold,' Meratill countered, his scaled lips drawn back in a sneer as his wings spread to encompass the glittering mounds. 'Bring me your father to take your stead in death. My power will increase tenfold with a son’s willing sacrifice of his father and you will have your life. A fair exchange. The deal is done.'

“Smoke curled about Meratill’s snout as he chuckled silently to himself, for he was wise as dragons are wont to become in their long lives, and he knew that Neraphet did not intend to return. No Prime, Meratill knew, could deny his right to venture forth and claim retribution on a broken deal.

“Neraphet staggered home in the darkness, numbed and all but blind from shock and despair. He told no one of where he had gone, nor of the bargain he had struck. Trying to appear as if nothing happened, Neraphet’s mind seethed with frantic plans and desperate thoughts as he went about his daily business. But there was no escape, and nine days after his fateful encounter with Meratill, Neraphet stood in the village square absently looking at the merchants’ wares. A thunderous crack rent the air, and the villagers clapped their hands to their ears as Neraphet burst into an incandescent flash. The wind had scattered his ashes before the echo died, while about the mountain to the north a roiling mass of blackness gathered form and sped away.”

I wept woefully as the anguish I felt hearing those words was as a knife flaying my soul. Perivlon’s own checks were wet with tears as he took my offered hand and drew me into his embrace. The shared comfort gave us the strength to dry our tears, though for me it was much more. I felt a seed of warmth bloom in my heart, spreading its roots and branches throughout my being in a web of light and serenity. I knew then what it was to heal, what was meant by virtue. At that moment, I knew also the calling for which I was destined. For the first time since I had lost my name, I was at peace.

Perivlon went on to tell us how, from that day, he vowed that he would destroy the scourge of Meratill’s growing malevolence, and to protect Furcadia from all threats of evil. He founded the Brotherhood of Nine to fulfill that vow and named it the Guild of Neraphet in memory of his brother.

“The nine seats, though, are empty,” Perivlon said, rising from the table with his hands spread open toward us. “And the work needing to be done is great. Should your desire to help be true, I would welcome your suppport.”

Toban, Gar and I spoke as one, offering ourselves to aid Perivlon’s cause and to the service of the Guild of Neraphet. Perivlon held our attention with his gaze each in turn as though he saw through to the depths of our souls, and I felt myself trembling at the thought that his judgement might find me lacking in strength or sincerity.

I cannot tell of the trials or the initiations into the secrets of the guild, but I will say that I quickly learned the limits of my courage and resolve for it was during this time that Perivlon confronted Meratill in a series of terrifying battles. Such are the twists of fate that only three days after I was accepted into the ranks of the Guild of Neraphet, Perivlon gathered us together and explained the grave implications for Furcadia should he fail to defeat Meratill; and that it would only be with Perivlon’s own death that Meratill could truly be vanqushied.

My heart seized at his calm acceptance of his fate and I raged and wailed, unable to think with such grief filling me. Perivlon rested his hand on my shoulder to still my heaving sobs, and told me that I should succeed him as leader of the Guild of Neraphet. Who was I, I thought, to assume such authority? I felt myself unready... unworthy. I shook my head and pleaded with him to send me to face Meratill instead. Gladly would I have given my life for his.

Yet Perivlon took my face in his hands and looked into my tear filled eyes, saying “Listen to your heart, for it will speak truly to you. By that you will know what is right.” With those words of trust from Perivlon, which I carry with me always, I raised my head and gave myself to the truths which he had taught me.

“By my heart’s blood, I vow to be true to myself and the inner light from which all goodness springs. “Upon my soul, given to me by the love and generosity of my family, I vow to uphold the spirit and duty which binds us as one. “And foremost, by the bright and cherished memory of you, Perivlon, whose courage and selflessness show us the true meaning of community, I pledge my life to the service of this our country. May the Primes grant me the strength, I vow to aid the meek, and to challenge whatsoever evil should arise in our fair land.”

“As I spoke, a strength and confidence grew within me which I knew was not my own, but the Primes’ approval and Perivlon’s acceptance. Perivlon smiled knowingly, for it was always his way to see the only the good in a situation, and bid us not to mourn for he would be with us in spirit... that the protection he lent to us like the father resting a hand on his child’s shoulder would never be withdrawn.

When Perivlon left us later that evening, it was with joy in our hearts that Perivlon strode into the night to embrace his destiny, and I set foot upon the path of my newfound vocation.