Jaysehn (prime)/Reflections/Remember Your Oath

The audible crunch of his boots on the fine gravel beneath his feet was the only sound to disturb the mundane ambiance of the evening that accompanied his passage through the slopes of the Upper Dragonsclaw. Here and again, the light of Liabo's full moon reflected off of shrouded red eyes in the foliage around him. The hobgoblins of the region made no move to bar him, it seemed. In some ways, such low creatures understood his nature better than even his closest friends.

Just beyond the remains of a former avalanche, the rough trail he sought was still visible. Navigating the rubble was not easy, but familiar steps came to him unbidden as he proceeded up the steep path. His mind, as was often the case, was distant from his body. Despite the many questions, concerns and responsibilities that oft plagued him, none of those could penetrate the cloudy fog of his thoughts at the moment. Only one thing held his attention.

In his left hand, tucked gently under his arm, was a package. Wrapped in several heavy layers of packaging paper, the contents were already known to him. When Valloria had delivered it aboard the Onyx Eclipse, he had opened it alongside his other mail. It's contents caught him so off guard that he had spilled his evening coffee onto his captain's desk. He didn't care. He gathered his swordbelt, put on his hat and stormed off into the evening air. He knew the ship was no place to deal with what was in this bundle. Indeed, there was only one place in all the world that would be suitable.

He left Solhaven that very hour, riding Zome north towards the Landing. The beast was wide awake, it's natural nocturnal instincts working to his advantage as the yierka moved with speed. When the palisade walls of the frontier town came into view some hours later, Jaysehn didn't approach them. Instead, he left his mount to hunt the beasts of the Lower Dragonsclaw and headed into the hills on foot.

Coming over the last rise of the hilly path he was climbing, Jaysehn now stood in his destination. Fel and pine trees crowded close to the shore of an almost perfectly clear pool surrounded by a low marble wall. The waterfall falling gently down a cascading rockface at the far end of the glade. It created a shimmering curtain of water lazily filling the small pool. The Shore of Dreams had been where it had started...many, many years ago. It was only appropriate that it was also where it would finish.

He remembered the spot like it was yesterday. A part of him imagined he could even see where the boy that had been him once left his boot prints in the grass. It was decades gone and yet the face that stared back at him from the pool was hardly older than the one that had looked into it in those distant days. He pushed that part of his past aside and regarded the future that was the bundle in his hands.

He moved the paper of the packaging aside, pulling out the contents from within. The bulk of it was a black leather book, its corners capped with inward facing silver crescents. On its face, inset snugly within the embossed cover was a small icon of onyx and alabaster, formed into an eclipse. He knew the book, though he had not seen it in decades. In some ways, he had never seen it. Only the boy of yesteryear had.

The letter that rested within the book's pages was sealed with black wax, pressed with a feather and flute symbol. The symbol of the founder of his Mystery. He broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. It contained only three lines of text.

It is time.

Remember your Oath.

The Black Codex is yours

Carefully folding the letter with respect, he placed it on the low marble wall before running his hand over the book. It thrummed with barely contained power, a power that his specialized touch seemed to feast on like a mosquito drawing from a bear. He understood what he had been given and what it had meant. His old Master, in his wisdom, had rightly refused to allow Jaysehn the chance of refusal.

The responsibility of it was his now, to be borne as all Duty was to be borne. With no thought of praise or acclaim. He recalled his Master's instruction well.

He who advances without coveting fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to attend to his Duty and do good service for the Order, is the Ebon Blade that sunders the Serpent's grip.

Jaysehn gathered up the letter and gently placed it within the pages of the Black Codex. Taking one last look in the pool to see the man-who-had-once-been-a-boy, the Exarch of the Ebon Blade rose to his feet. He tucked the codex into the folds of his longcoat, adjusted his hat, and began the slow descent back to woods below.