Talmissra, the enigmatic and dangerous empire, was a forbidding land that stretched for leagues along the northern coast of the Ivory Sea. It was not a friendly land at first glance – mountainous, sparsely irrigated and sparingly inhabited. Talmissra was split nearly in two by an abysmal valley called the Kaxornskaar Gorge, better known in its Talmissran tongue as the ‘eternal fall’. Clinging to the brim of the gorge, grasping at the ever-bleak sky, was an immense series of mountain ranges joined end-to-end as far as the human eye could perceive. The range closest to the gorge was, more frequently than not, volcanic, and it was from there that Talmissra earned its wealth – mining volcanic minerals. The Great Desert was a harsh but quiet place. Almost half of Talmissra’s population were desert nomads, who traversed the ‘Xann Berader’ – the ‘Wandering Sands’ in enigmatic ways, away from curious eyes.
The portal brought the Hero Party to the nomad campsite closest to the last Tower sighting in good time. It was high noon when they got there, and as they exited the portal, the quad startled the nomads eating within their tents. Wanting to be inconspicuous, the hero party tried their best to blend in. They secured their transport camels, prepared the necessary provisions and were soon on their way.
Three hours trekking across the desert under the blistering sun, Riadok used his magical compass to guide the way. As far as the eyes could see, it was just a sea of brown. Aubriet swore that they were lost and started to complain. His entreaties though fell on deaf eyes and when the knight realized he was being ignored by the other three, his face fell sullen and felt he was not really of much help to the party, and felt rather useless – exactly as his judge had sneered. The knight shook off this negative emotion, just as Riadok excitedly exclaimed “Here’s the Tower.”
Tosham and Estella were riding a few strides behind and began looking around. There was absolutely nothing around them. Estella wondered if Riadok was having a fever from the heat. But no. The mage apprentice chanted some spidery words in the language of magic and the temperature around them dropped drastically. There was a series of shimmering lights and there appeared ten feet ahead a magical tower coming out of nowhere.
Merlin’s Tower of Dreams loomed up before them, a glittering structure totally white, somewhat jagged about the edges and luminous in the noonday sun. The amber-cast sky, with its angry golden eye, covered the entire building with a brilliant gleam rather similar to the shine of the nomad tents, only somewhat more crystalline, as though the tower was made out of glass. It was easy to see why the desert nomads fancied it as nothing more than a mixture of heatstroke and sand in the eyes; it seemed so ghostly and ethereal that one was afraid it would not be there after the first transitory glance. Three turrets surmounted the battlements, but the magical wall had already begun its final descent, and now barely three feet off the ground, it closed in by the inch with every passing second.
In an instance the Hero Party was swept up in a kaleidoscope of whirling colours, and transported magically into the tower. Another surreal experience, Aubriet thought. I am getting used to all this teleporting business. As their ethereal bodies floated and shimmered, their physical forms came together once more, in the presence of the guardian of the tower, Sheja ~ high apprentice of Merlin and in her mind, an elder sister to mage Riadok.
Before them was a Talmissran girl, with sleek skin beaten brown by the desert sun, dressed in a flowing gown of white that looked similar to a priestess’ mantle, large black eyes and equally brilliant hair which was pinned to the back of her head with an elaborately shaped comb of gold. Her age seemed to be between that of Riadok’s and Aubriet’s – just past adolescence, but not quite adult. She surveyed the adventurers with interest, and then smiling smugly, her gaze rested upon Riadok .
“Hello, Sheja,” said Riadok in an affectionate voice. He pronounced the name ‘shay-yah’ with a curious emphasis on the ‘a’ that none of the others could quite achieve. Sheja nodded, and pronounced rather enthusiastically, “Greetings, fair travellers! I, Sheja of Talmissra, High Apprentice of Merlin, and newly named guardian of the Tower, welcome you on behalf of Qua-seth.”
Tosham found his voice. “Um…greetings,” he said hesitantly. “Who’s Qua-seth?”
“What a goof,” murmured Riadok, seeing Tosham’s stunned face. “That’s a ‘what’, not a ‘who’. Qua-seth is the branch of wizardry that…”
“Dok,” interrupted Sheja warningly. “You’re not supposed to tell!”
“That’s right. I keep forgetting.” The mage scratched his head. “Anyway, we’re looking for the Scroll of Mystic Healing, Sheja. Is it in this tower?”
“Why do you want it?”
“The Galanic order needs it,” said Estella matter-of-factly. “The matron of the Galans, entreated me to retrieve it as it will help us greatly in our work.”
“Ah – there’s a problem, though,” the guardian spoke as if she remembered something important at the last minute. According to the decrees in Qua-seth, “I can’t just give the Scroll of Mystic Healing to anyone. You’ve got to prove yourselves worthy to have it. The Scroll has great power. If it falls into the wrong hands…”
Aubriet sighed. He was starting to foresee a lot of ‘prove-yourselves-worthy’ missions looming up. He was right. “We will seek Master Merlin’s counsel.” With that, Sheja bent down and tapped the floor lightly, almost tenderly, in a complex pattern, and muttered softly under her breath. As she did so, stars of light began to flicker around the room, gathering in the same way she had manifested herself, to form the shape of a face. The watery form coloured itself appearing as an old man with a beard of silvered sable and a solemn face with the legacy of a thousand lifetimes traced in lines and wrinkles, framing deep-set eyes of ever-changing hue. All they could see was an outline of his face; the rest of him just seemed to fade away at the corners.
“Ah, Sheja,” said Merlin – for Merlin it was in spite of the hazy image. “I see the visitors I expected have arrived, his gaze resting finally on Aubriet.” The knight bowed, full of trepidation and many questions in his head.
“Yes, milord,” she said. “They want the Scroll of Mystic Healing. What do you want them to do to prove themselves?”
Merlin laughed. “Aubriet already has his doppelganger to deal with. Let him survive that and it will suffice. But the hero party must retrieve the artifacts of the Knight of Light. Only then can the Galan be given the Scroll of Mystic Healing. Sheja will reveal your respective quests and guide you.”
* * *
Over the next day, Aubriet and the Hero Party was briefed on the significance of the Knight of Light artifacts and how it could turn the tide for Bretunia, and also fulfill Aubriet’s destiny. Sheja read aloud from an ancient manuscript that detailed four of the artifacts:
Mark, then, the location of the Seven Articles:
The Enchanted Chain-Mail which the great knight wore is immersed within the Tomb of Five Wars on the northern border that divides the great desert-empire of Talmissra from the snow-capped mountain ranges of the Kingdom of Tarntora, at the mouth of the Shymen river, just before the river explodes into Kash-Nor Falls. The village of Little Ampor is but nine miles south of the tomb, and six miles northwest from the falls.
The Sword of the legendary knight lies in the Elven forest of Whitewood, within the magical confines of the Elven Tower. I know little of this elusive race, but it is said that their magical prowess is unparalleled and their ways capricious, and that the Elven Tower holds a powerful secret, one which guards the sword the elves call the Blade of the Elements or in our tongue, the Spiritual Blade. It seems the elves have devised many tests to prevent the unworthy from obtaining and defiling the sword.
The Flying Tower is where the magic Girdle that graced the Knight of Light’s waist lies. The Flying Tower is in fact the last standing structure of a castle which was burnt down many decades ago, by the last of Aventus’ living loyals, the Knight Parresas. The Tower is in the Empire of Macherras, some fifteen miles north from the port-city of Basir-Kas. The Knight of Light Girdle is there, undiscovered, hidden in a nondescript corner of the tower, possibly magically protected by any who dare mount the tower steps with the intention of retrieving it.
A simple, deceivingly coarse leather Sandal which the legendary knight wore upon his left foot is encased within the mysterious Lakescastle, the odd castle built on a tiny patch of rock in the middle of Moon’s Cradle Lake. This is an extremely rural area, and has only a single fishing village of no name surviving there. It is located on the island called Sheyke, owned by a mysterious woman who goes by the name of Santhea. It was recorded that her powers are not of this plane, and some powerful forces have been at work on the island.
The quests are daunting. Aubriet thought. He could visualize his doppelganger scorning him and saying “You will never succeed in these quests. Return to Camelot and cede control of your mind and body to me instead!”
NEVER! retorted Aubriet in his head. “Be gone you evil doppelganger. I will best you yet. Just you wait!”
It was almost noon by the time they were all ready for their quest. Sheja directed them down the cellar of the Tower of Dreams, to a large room which they had never seen before. There, the walls, floor and ceiling were all paved with uniform red tile in smooth slabs. There were no windows there, and the door disappeared immediately after they had entered. The only light came from a number of flickering lamps lining the walls. When they are ready, Sheja exclaimed with a resolute voice: “”Stand thyselves and thy mounts in the position of the four Elements around me,” she said. “Before me stands Kash-Nor, Keeper and Bearer of all fluid. At my left side stands Xann-Nori, Guardian and Harvester of the fruit of the earth. At my right side stands Sha-Nori, Sky’s fire and Day of eternal wake. And behind me stands Imri-Nor, Slumber’s keep in the Night of Wonders. And I, Sheja, Guardian and Gatekeeper of the Tower of Dreams, Grand Disciple and Apprentice of Merlin the Ancient, take here the place of the Heart of the Desert, where sandserpents reigned within earth’s bowels.” When she finished this part of the rites, four straight rows of light raced across the tiled floor from where she stood to where the Hero Party stood around her, embracing them within a four-fold clutch. Spluttering blue sparks leapt at their feet, but they were unable to move – they had been immobilised by her voice, and the power of the magic behind it.
“I send thee in the grace of the Guardians of the Tower whose names I have called,” said Sheja. “In thy possession is the Elixir of Words, which shall give thee the power to familiarize thyselves with any unfamiliar language which may hamper thy mission. A dose of the elixir must be taken within earshot of the language thus coveted. I will vest myself in a Life-Medallion to guide Aubriet. Four doorways shall be revealed to you. Each of you are to go on individual quests for the Seven Articles of the Knight of Light; when you retrieve your respective articles you will be transported back to the Tower of Dreams.”
“Makidon Tosham, in the standing of Kash-Nor, you shall go to the Tomb of Five Wars in search of the Enchanted Chain-Mail, on the borders of the Empire of Talmissra and the Kingdom of Tarntora. The doorway is open.” As she said this, a slit of light split the air in front of Estella and widened until it was large enough to admit her and her steed.”
“Lady Galan Estella, in the standing of Xann-Nori, you are to go to Lakescastle on Moon’s Cradle Lake, in search of the Sandal of the Knight of Light, on the island of Sheyke. The doorway is open.”
“Sir Knight Aubriet, in the standing of Sha-Nori, you will go to Whitewood, the Elven forest, in search of the Spiritual Blade. The doorway is open.”
“High Apprentice Mage Riadok, in the standing of Imri-Nor, you are to go to the Flying Tower near the port-city Basir-Kas, in search of the Girdle of the Knight of Light, in the Empire of Macherras. The doorway is open.”
“No problem,” smacked the eager mage, already having the time of his life.
Sheja beckoned Aubriet to her, and had him place the Life-Medallion around his neck again. Then she said, “Go forth, thy destiny awaits.”
Tosham took a deep breath, staring into the doorway with its almost blinding yellow light. Then he said, in a voice far more confident than he felt, “Safe passage, everyone. May we meet again in the Tower of Dreams.”
“Safe passage,” they all murmured to one another, taking one last lingering look around the tower. Then one by one, they stepped through the Gateway.
Workplace Coaching Inquiry by Coach Tom: You’ve uncovered your lifetime mission. Who would you choose and how will you persuade them to join you?
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