XX - Perkolon

To all of humanity:

Recent events have led me to seek omens of the future. What hath been revealed unto me hath sown more doubts than certainties, and for that reason—out of fear of what is to come—this is my attempt to save the earth.

Knowledge is the greatest of powers, but it demands sacrifices and comes at a cost as high as the one I must now pay. My father and teacher warned me of this. It is a difficult task for a man, in his littleness, to follow the path knowing when and how he shall die.

Time is a faithful ally and a powerful enemy, and that which is not written is doomed to oblivion.

No man is great enough to be remembered for eternity, nor is any eternity powerful enough to forget the truth.

That is why I have resolved to create this reconstruction of information together with my pupils.

I pray to the Father of All that we arrive in time.

Colquen.

[Pages 2 and 3]

Here I detail as faithfully as possible, for posterity, the visions that Odín hath granted me so that I may know the future.

Upon the banks of the River Castril, we kindled a great bonfire, and therein I cast the beak of an Alca Torda, ten feathers from the right wing of an eagle, seven feathers from the left wing of another, the tear of a newborn child, the scales of a golden fish, the claw of a bear and the left eye of a stag.

The ensuing smoke enveloped my body and, imploring Odín to grant me the truth, I entered the river. A great hole opened up in the midst of the waters and drew me towards its centre. When I was wholly submerged, I could see the images floating about me.

The silvery, full moon occupied a quarter of the firmament.

A pall of ebony clouds advanced toward it and, when they shrouded it, the world turned a dark crimson hue.

The earth and the mountains, meadows and forests, all stained a deep red.

I beheld Kerkion Castle, its king weeping over his son’s grave, and a company of nobles bearing the corpses of their firstborn sons in their arms. Then all vanished.

Amidst the bubbles forming from the air slowly blowing through my nose, the figure of a woman, upon a mountain, fell to her knees, pleading with the moon.

The whitish glow of that crescent moon dimmed before a shadow shaped like a snout and ears.

The woman’s inconsolable weeping created a pool at her feet into which she sank until she vanished.

The white wooden necklace with an intertwined snake that my father had given me floated before my eyes, and when I pushed it aside, the shadow broke free from the moon.

Formed of smoke, the silhouette of a wolf, with large, prominent claws, descended towards the earth, painted red.

At the summit of the hill a babe wrapped in a sheepskin blanket was weeping.

The shadow, its great jaws wide open, engulfed the child, who shuddered with a cry of pain.

And there he remained, alone, inconsolable.

A great bubble issued from my mouth, and within it I beheld the form of another woman. She appeared to be fleeing, and, after taking up the babe, she ran toward the wood.

The bubble span until it struck my nose, and as it burst, the woman stood before me, in flesh and blood, cradling the babe.

I shall never forget the fury with which her sad green eyes beheld me.

I felt pity when I noted the deep, thin wound upon the side of her pale cheek.

I raised my hand and gently brushed her golden hair away from the wound, but she drew a golden dagger from beneath the blanket and thrust it through my breast.

I felt the pain despite the unreality of it all.

My blood flowed and mingled with the greenish waters.

She was still there, floating before me, but a few centimetres distant, yet I was unable to stir.

I could do naught but behold her whilst my body endured the sharp pain and my heart beat as if I knew her, as if I loved her.

I know not how much time passed ere she wrenched the dagger from my breast. Yet she did not draw it forth alone; my golden cup, the very one Tyr had delivered into my hands, came away from my body impaled upon the keen point.

I did not even try to stay her as she, the babe, and the cup dissolved into the water.

From the blood that yet flowed, a new image took shape: that babe, a boy, and the woman, stood within the walls of a castle. Many years had passed; the boy, now a man, wore a thick red cloak upon his shoulders, embroidered with a golden raven with its beak open that seemed to speak to me.

I continued to fall into the depths, but the pain ceased when I felt someone touch my back.

I turned in the water and found myself face to face with an elderly man.

A large scar ran down his left cheek where his eye was missing, and from the empty socket I saw Odín walking upon the earth, flanked on both sides by his wolves, Geri and Freki.

They halted by a river in a forest glade. Odín stroked the heads of his faithful guardians and a golden, incandescent light enveloped them. A flash like an explosion of galaxies pushed my body backwards and, before mine eyes, the wolves turned into human babes.

A man with an honest smile and a serene demeanour appeared, and as he gathered up the children, Odín, enveloped in a cloud, vanished.

Time began to hasten. The incarnate wolves grew as they ran across the hills, one taller and with blue eyes, the other with eyes as grey as silver.

It took but a blink for me to see them transformed into mighty warriors, surrounded by death and glory.

Perched on the shoulder of the silver-eyed youth was a black raven and, to my surprise, both wore the same red cloak bearing the golden emblem.

The visage of the old man floating before me vanished the moment the three protagonists of my vision came together, and the light surrounding me due to the spell began to fade. My body required oxygen; I was on the verge of fainting.

With my sight blurred, I raised my head toward the surface.

Like a point, a beacon of light—or perchance the moon—dominated the sky.

I closed mine eyes to summon the last of my remaining strength and, when I opened them, darkness reigned.

Before me stood the beast-man, slender in build, with a pale, almost cadaverous complexion, and a scar running down the left side of his face.

We seemed to be in a cemetery, judging by the crypt rising behind him.

He was covered in blood, standing atop a pile of rotting corpses and surrounded by blue flames.

Over his shoulder, a shadow several metres tall with a wolf’s head loomed.

It held the skulls of the father’s wolves, and beneath one of its boots lay the corpse of a raven whose wings and beak had been torn off.

My body began to be drawn towards the surface. I looked down and beheld a village being consumed by flames. Higher up, the village became two and then three, and, before I emerged, the entire earth beneath my feet was ablaze.

[Page 4]

Several nights of meditation have led us to unravel certain things. It is difficult to untangle a knot when one has no starting point from which to pull. The gods play with us and delight in the complex ironies of testing us with our meagre knowledge.

By virtue of a trance induced by an infusion of mushrooms from Mount Bowltralf, I have been able to reproduce the star map of the firmament that appeared to me, before the immense moon turned to blood. This book contains that map and details which half of the sky it belongs to.

We discovered, from the alignment of the constellations—particularly the Northern Cross and the angle of the moon—that this sky shall be visible in a fortnight’s time over the land of Kerkion. That is where it shall all begin.

The shadow cast upon the visage of the moon led us to seek out the legend: ' The moon and the sun are pursued by the children of Fenrir, Sköll and Hati, who seek to devour them. When they achieve their goal, Ragnarok will be unleashed and the end of time will come for all humanity. '

I knew not the identity of the first woman who knelt and pleaded to the full moon until a memory returned to mind.

A year ago a lady came to ask for my aid: her husband was suffering from a wasting sickness and she desired to give him an heir before he passed away.

For the next two months I exhausted my stores, and with my last potion I counselled her that, if it did not take effect, she should pray to the gods.

I curse the day I did that. I fear I am not mistaken in thinking that she pleaded with the moon to become a mother; yet it was something else that answered her plea.

She is a good woman who doth not know that the favours of darkness come at a higher price than those of light.

Her child will be human, but a part of its soul will not be human.

For it is Fenrir they seek to release, and its tiny body will be the vessel.

On the unfathomable paths, to find the way, one must remove the problem from sight. We must prevent the Blood Moon from taking the firstborn of the kingdom. With that, the veil shall be rent and the darkness shall obtain the power of the Scarlet Death, so that the beast may divide his soul.

[Pages 5 and 6] Star map and territory of Kerkion.

[Page 7]

From here, we may behold the objective. I have a plan, though it pleaseth me ill, for success will not rest in our hands.

It shall be King Rolen who determineth the fate of humanity.

Once I have delivered the message, we shall not be able to intervene—for the dread of chaos oft buildeth the bridges that lead unto it.