Master of Sorrows (The Silent Gods #1)

The moment he had passed through the rectory door, Annev sprinted through the kitchen and into Sodar’s room, where the ink-spattered translation lay on the priest’s bed. Annev snatched it up and jogged back to the chapel to hand Sodar the messy sheaf of papers. He sat down just as Sodar lifted the documents above his head.

Well, Annev thought, cringing inwardly, this will be interesting.

‘A few centuries ago, a group of our brothers ventured to Gorm Corsa in search of the lost records. Most did not survive the journey, but those that returned brought back a record which had been ancient even before Neven nan Su’ul was destroyed. It was written on brass plates that looked much like this.’ Sodar lifted the bronze-plated Book of Odar in his right hand then set both the bronze plates and the sheaf of papers on the altar. ‘These plates were brought to the monastery at Speur Dún and meticulously copied, though the language of the plates was a puzzle. The words were Darite, but the glyphs were an obscure type of Terran pictograph. This meant that, for both Terrans and Darites alike, the plates appeared to be gibberish – a flaw that would prove to be this record’s saving. In fact, I believe it has only survived for so long because no one knew how to read it.

‘Before a complete transcription of the manuscript could be done, though, the monastery at Speur Dún was destroyed. Most of its records were also lost.’ Sodar lifted the sheaf of papers from the altar. ‘But a few copies survived.’

Tosan cleared his throat in irritation.

‘My preface was to explain whence these scriptures come. I am about to read a history of the events following the first Regaleus – a story we all know well – but instead of reading from the Book of Odar, this translation voices the perspective of our national enemies … the Terrans.’

A chorus of subdued murmurs filled the chapel and Tosan’s frown deepened. The ancients behind him were whispering among themselves, mostly directing their comments to Ancient Jerik, the Academy’s ancient-history scholar, who was stone-faced.

‘Brother Sodar,’ Tosan said, his eyes flinty. ‘What does it profit us to hear Terran lies spoken from the pulpit? I can already guess that it will praise Keos and slander the All-father. This reeks of heresy.’

The priest held up a placating hand. ‘Do not judge what you have not heard, Elder Tosan. Much of this is consistent with the Book of Odar, but there are many details that are not in our record – details that could benefit the Academy.’

‘Benefit?’ Tosan scoffed. ‘I see no benefit in preaching blasphemy to your congregation.’ Yet even as the headmaster spoke, Annev could tell that Tosan was weighing the significance of Sodar’s words. ‘How is this record – this translation – any benefit to the Academy?’

Annev couldn’t see Sodar’s face, but from the way the priest’s back straightened – from the way he rubbed his fingers together in anticipation – he knew the old man’s eyes were sparkling.

Tosan had just given Sodar the opening he’d been waiting for.

‘The Terrans,’ Sodar explained, ‘preserved many of the details surrounding the creation of the Oracle – one of the most powerful artifacts ever forged by Gods or men. My translation explains what it is, why Odar made it, and – perhaps most important of all – where it was kept.’

Annev could see the priest had the headmaster’s full interest.

‘If the Academy will permit,’ Sodar continued, addressing the congregation, ‘I would like to read this translation tonight. It contains some cultural biases, as Elder Tosan has noted, but I believe the Terran perspective reveals some truths lost to the Book of Odar.’

‘This is highly unorthodox, Sodar.’ The complaint came from Tosan, yet the headmaster’s tone indicated his words were only a token objection. After a short pause, the Eldest of Ancients added: ‘You may continue, but after your sermon you must bring your records to the Academy so that we can discuss your findings, including the methods of your research.’

Sodar inclined his head. ‘It would be my pleasure, Elder Tosan.’ He shuffled the manuscript then placed the bronze plates on top of the loose papers.

‘Before I read from this new manuscript,’ Sodar said, flipping through the bronze leaves, ‘I would like to preface my translation with verses taken from the Book of Odar.’ He cleared his throat. ‘And it came to pass that many years had passed away, yea even six hundred years had passed away since the first Regaleus. And it was seven hundred years since the day that Myahlai, the Incarnation of Entropy, was cast out of Luquatra.’

Sodar placed his manuscript atop the plates, raised his eyes to the congregation, and began.





Part Two





And on the six-hundredth anniversary of Regaleus, Odar, in his vanity, blessed his children with a new gift: using the element over which he was steward, the Elder God raised his staff and created an elemental being of pure quaire. And Odar called it the Oracle and placed it in north-western Odarnea, where the Darites did visit it often, for it was said the Oracle possessed the mind of Odar and could answer a supplicant’s unspoken questions. And the Oracle was strengthened by the powers of Keos and Lumea, for Odar used his staff to forge the Oracle, and the Staff of Odar still bore the blessings of Keos and Lumea.

And Lumea saw the gift of her brother Odar, and thought the Oracle a worthy thing for him to gift unto his children, and she wished to follow the example of her brother by blessing the Ilumites in turn. So it was that, raising the Flute of Lumea, the Goddess formed creatures of pure lumen and sent them among her people. And she called them Sprites, for they were simple beings of light and fire that brought much joy to Lumea’s people. And the Goddess placed them throughout the valleys of Ilumea that they might bring light and love to all who encountered them. And the souls of the Sprites were strengthened by the powers of Keos and Odar, for Lumea used her flute to conjure the Sprites, and the Flute of Lumea still carried the blessings of her brothers.

Now when Keos spied these creations he was wroth, for he had wrought the staff and the flute for Odar and Lumea, and he remembered how his siblings had belittled him with their gift of a song. Yea, and he saw how they mocked him now by gifting greater treasures unto their children using the tools he had crafted for them.

So Keos returned to his forge and laboured long at its fires. And with the strength of his hammer he created a greater elemental than those of his siblings, forged in his own likeness and image, and imbued with much strength and vigour.

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