Time setting: after the winter assult Title Unknown at time of writing Part 1 ‘The land was still damp from the storm of the last night,’ Lukous thought to himself as he dressed himself in his usual clothes and took both his club and the fine timber he was going to sell to the merchant for information. ‘Not that it is much of a difference,’ he thought sourly. Stepping out of his family’s age-old home, he looked at the blacken trees that encompassed his home and village with a sad look. For as a long as he could remember, they have had always looked…wrong. It got worse as he walked towards to village proper, with the wrongness more and more present. He had a strong feeling why it was as so, but he did not wish to acknowledge it in his mind so early in the morning. Stepping into the village, he drew into himself out of some primal instinct for his own protection, but he knew that the villagers would never dare attack him. They knew, as did he, if he were to be slain, the village would be doomed to destroy itself. Still, he had to protect himself in case they got bold or if Rackit decided to move out on him at long last. He did not bother calling him Father Rackit even in his head as he had continued the betrayal and butchering of Dualism. Shaking his head out of those angry thoughts, he continued to the trading office ignoring the wrong looking buildings and wrong looking people that stared at him from their windows. He ignored them so he did not have to look at their eyes, which bore with such horrible wrongness that sent a chill down his spine. That was the second most horrible thing in the village, save for only for center of the wrongness, which was what Rackit called the last temple of Dualism. The wrongness of the land stemmed from that building and contaminated almost everything in the land. Clenching his club tighter, he walked into the building with a slight intake of air. It had always bothered him walking into one of the buildings, but he needed to do so to get what he wanted from the merchant. Looking around, he spotted the merchant in the corner of the room, in table far away from the local inhabitants. He was not as wrong as the rest of the people of the village, but it was still there. With a sigh withheld, he walked over to learn of the outside world. ~°~°~°~°~°~° The merchant looked up at the man he knew as Lukous with mixed feelings. His family had been trading with this man’s family for ages and they’d always provided the best meat to sell or whatever else they had to offer. Yet, they always had that sense of superiority of them; looking down at the people and the village. It was a nice village, with pleasant looking tree and vibrantly painted buildings. It was far enough north that it did not need to worry itself of being too grand to offend any nobles nor did they need to pay any taxes. He might set himself up here one day. Then again, he frowned to himself; there seemed something off about the church of Ecclesia but he could never put his finger on it. “Hello the merchant.” The brown hair, blue-eyed man said softly with a light bow of the head, sitting down in front of him. Like his family before, they had always used the old greetings. It was odd, but then again, he was not going to question it. They seemed high strung, and he didn’t want to loose such a valuable assist this far north by offending him. “Hello the trader.” He bowed his head back, looking at the timber the man dropped on the table. It was exquisite and he knew that he’d make a tidy profit by sending it to his friends to make it into furniture cheaply and then make a fortune selling in towns to the south and west. “May your health be well as we last meet?” He added the next part of the old greeting and now he waited for the man to return it back so they could begin. “I am well in health as I hope you are too.” He looked at him, with his eyes darting around the trading office, no doubt fingering that club he had on his belt. He had no idea why he was allowed to carry his weapon as he was forced to hand over his but again, he decided not to push. “I am.” There, it was done. “So I see that you have a nice assortment of timber here, what price are you seeking?” He held back a grin; the man was a good provider of raw material, but a poor businessman. He had no sense for money and at times he didn’t seem to care he was being cheated! “None, safe information.” His mouth nearly hit the table. This was too much to belief! “What do you wish to know, my friend?” He held back a grin, knowing there would be a fine amount of gold waiting for him at the end of this trade. “Of the world, my friend. I’m secluded up here and I’d wish to know more of it.” He glared at him. “Well, there is not much change friend.” Which was true, the world was calm for the most part. “Well, expect of course, old Metamor.” “Oh?” He blinked, looking confused. “Has that land fallen?” The Keep was known even this far north for its strength and power to keep evil creatures at bay. “Nay friend, but the land has become cursed.” He smiled inwards; spinning yarns was something he did almost as well as selling goods. “It seems that some wizard attempted to break through and laid three curses. One that made them beasts, one that robbed of the age and one that robbed them of their manhood.” He grunted, the last one he found the most disgusting. Becoming a woman was far worse then loosing his age or becoming some mangy animal. “But it seems them wizard folks were able to counter-act them or some such and they were able to repel them. But the lands are still curse friend. No amount of gold will make me cross into them.” “When did this happen?” The man looked very worried all of a sudden. “About seven or so years ago, why?” All of the sudden, the man got up from the table and started to leave. This was very unusual, as he’d always said the proper words for leaving. “What’s wrong friend?” He cried out, picking up the timber with a grunt as he tried to follow. “Southeast.” He said over his shoulder as he started towards somewhere. The merchant wasn’t sure why he was following him or why he was asking these questions, but it felt right. “To Metamor Keep.” “What?! Why?” He reached forwards to grab the man’s shoulder to make him face him. “Be reasonable; the land is cursed and leagues away! Why’d you want to go there?!” “My father died about seven years ago, and if I were to guess, on the day that curse was struck. He’d told me that Yau and Nau give him a message that I was to leave as soon as I heard of a great change in world and as the last believer of Dualism, I was to record and decipherer the meaning behind the change.” He stopped and stared at the merchant. The merchant looked around and noticed they were out of the village and on an old road. Yet he was not nervous. “My friend, I do believe this might be the last time I will ever see you. Heed my words; do not come back to this village ever again.” He paused and took a deep breath. “There is much evil in the souls of this land and I do not wish to loose the only man I can call a friend.” “What do you mean by-never mind.” He waved his head, not caring to get dragged into village politics. They had ended up in an old looking house that had seen much better days. “Look, it’ll take you years to walk all way to Metamor Keep. I’ll give you a ride in my wagon for the time being. In exchange for two things, of course.” “Name your price friend.” The man stood on his stairs, looking down. “Your name, and a reason why I should never come back.” “A fair price, friend. My name is Lukous and if you will come in, I will tell you a tale.” ~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~ Part 2 The merchant was uneasy in his home; it was plain to see. But he needed to know the truth. Sighing, Lukous sat down at his table in front of the merchant. “Before I start, you noticed something off with the… ‘Church’, correct?” He spat out the word, hating the mockery to the deep of his bones. “Yeah, there was something always off.” The merchant rubbed his chin, trying to think. “There is no graveyard.” The merchant jumped, noticing the fact that many of the few visitors overlooked. “It’s because they follow a mockery of Dualism and wish to hide their horrible deeds.” Paling from realization, the merchant tried to change the conversation. “W-what’s Dualism.” He looked around his home, noticing the blots on the windows and the lock on the door. It was clear this house had seen dangerous attacks in the past. “An ancient religion, predating most.” He sat down, reliving the tale that he had been told since he was a kid in his head. He reached into his shirt, pulling out perfectly balanced crystal prisim. “In a land due south, the people had worshiped two deities, Yau and Nau, life and death. They viewed them as equal parts of the world and our interactions with the world required proper balancing. If one were to go hunting for boar, one would need to make sure that piglets were to come in spring. If one were to fish, one was required to make sure they could reproduce. If a lord were to collect taxes, he’d be required to spend it on the people he governed over. The priests were required to tend to all, providing comfort and aid in both good and bad times. They were there to welcome a child into the world by using blessing from both Yau and Nau. If one was to die-” Lukous faltered, treading on what had practically destroyed Dualism. “What was to happen Lukous?” The merchant was entranced by the tale. “ ‘As it came from the flesh, so shall it return in the end.’ “ He looked at the merchant with steady eyes. “Not to kill and devour those who disagree with the word of Rackit.” He spat in anger, hating the man. “Do you know of the tale in the Scriptures about them finding barbaric town on a island that were cannibals?” He sighed. “I bare them no anger. The truth of the mater is that one of our messengers wished to create communication with the new faith. The scholars of the time foresaw a great change and thought by creating ties with them. I do not know what happened, but I believe the messenger had spoke to a distant garrison that acted without proper orders from above. The people of the ancient land were divided in action, of either to accept them as the new faith or fight them off. A small portion decided to flee. Only those who fled survived the onslaught. Again, I bare no anger to the Way or their actions. Dualism’s time had come in the great change and the Way was to flourish along with the Lightbringers’s deities replacing Yau and Nau .” He sighed again. “They have been hiding, those who fled, here in fear all those years, slowly loosing the faith. Many left to join the Lightbringers or other religions were they would be safe. Those that stayed slowly butchered Dualism into a dark practice. My family has spent the last several generations preventing the town from descending into total sin. The villagers knew that fact as well. They could have killed my family any time, they have the numbers, but by doing so they would destroy themselves.” He sighed once more. “I have much regret in abandoning them to themselves, but I have to follow my orders.” “That’s…quite a tale.” The merchant leaned back in the chair, no doubt reeling from the information he told him. It felt good to Lukous for another to know the tale. “I suppose you will not be taking me to the Keep, friend.” Lukous stared at the man across the table. “I never said that friend.” The merchant sat up, looking up at him with light eyes. Lukous knew the merchant was telling the truth by the eyes alone. “I made a deal and I intend to see it through.” He spat in his hand and held it out. “To Metamor Keep.” Lukous spat into his hand, smiling. “To Metamor Keep.” He shook the merchant’s hand, a deal being struck. “Thank you friend.” “It’s Naet, friend.”