XX - Perkolon #2

I have dispatched my pupils to slip into every farm in the realm, that they may purify the slaughter knives with mint, apple-wood, and chestnut.

Thereafter, let them consecrate both the beasts and the barrels wherein the mead ferments in every tavern and dwelling with the selfsame incantation employed in the festive sacrifices for the offerings to Frey.

Ignorance is virgin soil where any may take root, but on blessed ground there is no darkness able to take hold.

I must ensure that Rolen orders the cattle to be sacrificed, so that the earth may be bathed in sacred blood and the hound’s paws cannot touch the ground, not without being destroyed.

Furthermore, let the entire population bathe in purified mead to prevent such a sacrifice from staining their souls and barring them from crossing the veil.

It will not be easy to approach Rolen. I have been hiding from him for several years.

He desires my knowledge and abilities for himself, and no one should possess such power.

I refuse to send my pupils to his castle; they would not be listened to and would be put to death, or worse still, tortured once their identities were known, in an attempt to break me.

The Father of All hath not sent me to earth to satisfy men’s thirst for power, but to mediate between light and darkness.

I have perfected an ancient spell. It is perilous and exacts a vast sacrifice of my Naamclënt energy, yet it shall suffice.

I do leave this spell here, though not in its entirety; each of my three pupils shall possess a part of the remaining whole.

None shall be able to cast it without the aid of the others.

I shall transmute my soul into the body of an animal, a brown bear that dwells in one of the caves near here.

He is a great companion; I catch the food and he keeps intruders at bay.

I have already asked him and he hath agreed to help, even though it may cost us both our lives.

The peril lieth both in the arrows as we draw near the walls of Kerkion and in the duration of the transmutation, for it might not be reversed.

I have received word that a grand banquet shall be held at the castle tomorrow night. It shall be the ideal moment; there shall be more guards, yet amidst so many folk my message shall not go unnoticed. Moreover, my pupils shall cast a paralysis spell upon the guards until we depart the castle.

I pray that Thor grants us victory.

I still cannot discover the whereabouts of the woman who is to gather the child. Some force hideth her from me and from Tyr’s golden cup. It is worth knowing which walls they will take refuge behind should we fail.

[Pages 8–15] Transmutation spell, Symbols and Prayers.

One of four parts. Final prayer: ' Nisasja nima. Clöëckdëdkema ëäj dyska nimalla amadom. jëbkëäl räs gahytas tegom [3] .'

[Page 16]

The tale of what hath befallen shall become legend, yet not as we had hoped… We have failed.

The transmutation spell was a success, though I can still feel the fleas crawling over my body. I am proud of my apprentices, who have created the paralysis spell to perfection, and at precisely the right moment.

I contrived to enter the main hall during the banquet. The expressions upon the countenances of the lords and ladies present would have made a fine painting to hang upon the castle walls; a pity no painter was there to capture it.

When I stood before Rolen, following my sublime entrance, our energies merged into one.

I was able to foretell to him the death of the firstborn during the Blood Moon and how to prevent it, but what happened next was beyond my plans and knowledge.

My soul of light led Rolen’s spirit through a tunnel and confronted him with a dark memory: he beheld himself slaying his father to claim the throne.

Such a revelation, I fear, hath left an unfathomable mark upon his psyche. I cannot say how much of him remaineth.

[Page 17]

The rumour spread through the village: Prince Retter hath been imprisoned. He is accused of conspiracy and they believe he hath poisoned the king.

Apparently, after we escaped from the castle, Rolen fell into a deep sleep, but managed to repeat my message to his son, although the lords, in an act of dubious morality, took the prediction as a curse conjured by the boy and have chained him in the dungeon.

They await the realm’s leeches and sorcerers to discern the poison employed to rouse him, that he himself may judge his eldest son’s behaviour.

There are but eight nights left before the End of Time turns the hourglass. We must hasten to discover who the lady is who beareth the babe. Not to prevent my execution—my life is not worth the effort—but to intercept the child and, may Odín save my soul, slay him.

[Page 18]

We have been walking for several days, traversing the forests and meadows.

I purpose to gather intelligence and reconstruct the map of Móntria.

It shall aid us in discovering the precise spot where Fenrir intends to descend and where he will lie hid until he can be fully loosed, although we have yet to reach the southern lands.

[Pages 19–37] Maps of northern and central Móntria.

[Page 38]

We have discovered the precise spot where he shall descend. It shall not be in Kerkion itself, but upon the border, upon Mount Kasda, within King Curktron’s estates in the lands of Lepontia.

I still have no tidings concerning the charge I have entrusted to the folk of Kerkion. I fear they may not have heeded me.

[Page 39]

The whole village of Kerkion is in mourning.

If humanity knew what was coming, it too would be in mourning, as would my pupils, and I, for today my pupil Drotken, the eldest of the three, surrounded by festering sores oozing greenish pus, walked hand in hand with Freya into the other world, despite my attempts to save him.

Three nights past, it came to pass even as we had computed.

Against a clear, starry firmament, a radiant full moon, upon attaining her zenith, began to bleed.

From her upper right edge, a shadow devoured her, and the further it advanced, the more it stained the moon.

The spectrum of reds and browns, crimson and scarlet, maroon and vermilion, in perfect balance, dominated the landscape and the minds of the people.

A commotion gripped the village, citadel and castle of Kerkion, enduring until dawn.

That morn I resolved to ascertain whether the livestock had been sacrificed. There was not a single farm I did not frequent. I had hoped to find the ground drenched in blood or, perhaps, to see them carrying out the slaughter. Much to my disappointment, the meadows teemed with life.

I set forth for the lands of Lepontia and forbade my pupils to follow me, for should I by chance intercept the boy, I desired not to endanger them, much less to permit their souls to be stained by the unfathomable darkness of murder.

This day I am grateful that they did not obey, for they saved my life.

When the full moon was enveloped in intense red, a violet light tinged with black formed a path that settled upon the mountain.

I cast a spell of light into which I poured my very being, but that gloom engulfed me and, like a tunnel, began to lift me up.

My body, suspended in air, did prevent me from breathing, whilst my soul, in the form of green energy streaming from every pore, was drawn into the shadow.

At that very instant my pupils appeared.

The three of them chanted a prayer—they still have not been able to tell me which one, for they fell into a trance in the face of danger.

They repelled the force that was overwhelming me, but a powerful energy field struck us and we tumbled down the hillside.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself lying upon the ground, and standing at my feet was a woman bearing the child, wrapped in a sheepskin blanket.

She resembled my vision so closely that I sensed mine end was near.

I beheld her visage, yet she was not the one foretold to destroy me.

She was not blonde, neither did she possess those fierce green eyes nor the scar upon her cheek.

She leaned towards me and whispered in my ear: 'The gods have heard me. Thank you.' Then she kissed my cheek and, before I could react, ran off into the forest. My disciples endeavoured to pursue her, but to no avail. They say a mist enveloped her and hid her in the darkness of the night.

Though that is not the only thing the darkness keeps hidden.

Despite my insistence, Tyr’s golden cup hath ceased to reveal secrets to me since I became a prisoner of my fate, and I can only manage to recall that intricate feeling that completed me when, in my vision, I stood before that woman with golden hair.

In some manner beyond our understanding, that child shall ultimately rest in her arms, sheltered in a realm we deem to lie to the south of Móntria.

I learnt from my brown companion that certain peasants were searching for me, hoping I might reverse the symptoms afflicting their young children.

I was grateful that we had concealed our trail from everyone.

For what was the point of saving a handful of lives if humanity had an expiry date under a dark fate?

Moreover, that very morning we began our own struggle to save Drotken’s life, who fell into my arms, his skin yellow and a fever as high as the forges of Helheim.

The lords of the lands nearest the castle gathered to find an explanation and, recalling Retter’s words, went to ask for his help.

Yesterday the burning boat set sail with his body towards the deep waters of the sea.

The future heir of Kerkion was the first to die; the physicians said it happened at the very moment the moon bled.