Opalina (prime)/The Staff Finds Us
The Staff Finds Us
Title: The Staff Finds Us
Author: Opalina Jalcon
From the journals of Opalina Jalcon- 2002
I had expected another quiet evening in the Hall of the Mind.
Instead, I walked into history.
At first I barely noticed why everyone had gone silent. Tierus looked as though he'd swallowed poison, Kadesha had gone pale, and Nofret... Nofret stood there with a simple thornwood staff resting in her hand as if she hadn't just reached into an old nightmare and pulled it free.
It was beautiful.
That was the first thing that struck me. Not evil. Not cursed. Beautiful.
The thornwood gleamed with the patient craftsmanship of someone who had loved their work. Twin serpents of porphyry wound around the shaft toward a blood-colored fist, every carving so perfect it seemed alive. I couldn't help myself.
"Where'd ya find that little piece of art?" I asked.
When she answered, my stomach tightened.
The Temple of Love.
On Mother Dalairi's grave.
Between the hands of the effigy.
I could almost picture it waiting there through the years, untouched, silent, as if it had known someone would eventually come looking.
Everyone else saw danger.
I saw choices.
People immediately began wondering whether it truly belonged to Amasalen, whether Thurfel should have it, whether it ought to be destroyed before anyone could wield it.
Too many people already seemed to know what should be done with something that wasn't theirs.
I remembered Thurfel's certainty that only he—or the Chosen—could wield the thing. Well, there it was in Nofret's hands, proving that simply finding something doesn't make the world obey your expectations.
When someone asked if she'd give it to Thurfel, I almost laughed.
"Just askin'," I said after she looked at me as though I'd lost my senses.
But I wasn't joking.
Everyone knew Thurfel wanted it.
Everyone.
Power has a smell to it, and those who crave it can catch that scent from miles away. I could already imagine the bargains, the speeches, the promises, the carefully chosen words designed to separate Nofret from that staff.
I warned her anyway.
"Watch your step, Nofret. Ya might be next Chosen."
She tried to make light of it, talking about learning what the staff did before it surprised her.
I wasn't nearly so certain.
The artifact had already begun changing the room without anyone casting a spell.
Tierus could barely breathe around it. Blizzerdd later admitted he wanted to take it simply because he was near it. Even the strongest among us seemed... pulled... in directions they didn't entirely understand.
That frightened me more than the staff itself.
Still, I found myself whispering to Nofret whenever I could.
I'm glad you found it and not one of us.
You'll think clearer than most.
I just hope you're able to use it for good... or find a way to destroy whatever magic lives inside it.
She thanked me quietly.
I don't think she believed her own luck.
Neither did I.
The room soon became a council of impossible solutions.
Throw it into a volcano.
Hide it.
Destroy it.
Use it against Amasalen.
Give it to Thurfel.
Give it to no one.
Everyone had a plan.
I couldn't help thinking they were all forgetting one simple truth.
"The stick will know when the time is ripe."
Artifacts like this don't stay hidden because mortals decide they should. They wait. They choose their moments better than we do.
Someone joked it would probably wash downstream one day until some child picked it up and accidentally turned himself into a boar.
I laughed.
Mostly because it didn't sound impossible.
As the hours passed, my own head began pounding harder. Questions spilled from my mouth faster than I could stop them. Even Iscikella asked if something was wrong with me.
Maybe there was.
Maybe it was only the headache.
Or maybe every soul in that room could feel history shifting beneath our feet.
When the discussion finally turned to what should happen next, I found I already knew my answer.
Not Thurfel.
Not the Nine.
Not Amasalen.
Not even one of us Chosen.
For all the fear surrounding that staff, one thing was undeniable.
Of everyone in that room, the gods had allowed Nofret to find it.
Perhaps that wasn't an accident.
As she prepared to leave, exhausted beyond words, I wished her a peaceful night.
Then I watched Tierus place a sphere of protection around her before she stepped into the darkness beyond the Hall.
Everyone feared the staff.
I feared the people who would come looking for it.
Because the moment the world learned Amasalen's staff had been found, it wasn't the artifact that was truly in danger.
It was the woman carrying it.