“And since I got back, I’ve barely slept a night all the way through.” The old elf wizard sat on the small stool, staring at the swirling tea leaves in his steaming mug.
“Well, from the sound of it, it is lucky you got back at all.” The human ranger took a deep breath and poured a bit of whiskey from his flask into his own cup of tea. “How many did you say there were? Six?” Tim looked up from his mug at Thaylinn, who was staring out the cabin window at the setting sun beyond the lake. The elf nodded. “Well, as you know, old friend, I was trapped in the Abyss for many years. It is all kind of fading from memory. I did not do much battle there. I mean, yeah, I was tortured and stuff, but I was hooded most of the time and pain fades from memory.”
“I know Tim, and I am glad your soul is intact. We all are. The Dreamwater needs its Sherriff. Technically, I was never actually in the Abyss. Those six succubi were the last enemy to face us in a final battle at the Dawn of Time. And although I was the only one in my party to survive the trip back here to the Dreamwater, my soul is broken. Rhoen, Lagozed, and dear sweet Aelar, all dead…Lost in time.” Thaylinn reached into a fold of his gray robe and pulled out a fist-sized bundle wrapped in leather. “I grabbed this, the meaning of our ill-fated quest, before I saw the time portal and my friends, collapse into the void.” Thaylinn took the whiskey flask from Tim and spiked his own drink, took a slow sip and then began to unwrap the object on the table.
The object glowed from within, a deep opalescent radiance that transcended anything from nature. Tim could recognize this as an object of deep, ancient magic, possibly druidic, possibly even proto-druid. “50,000 years” Thaylinn whispered. “Across many oceans of time. Behold. The Gherivon.”
Tim raised an eyebrow. “Mighty name. I’ve heard of it before. Penelius told me once of a world-ruining device by that name. We were talking at one point about going to get it ourselves. That is what you were doing? How long have you had this thing?”
“Nearly twenty years Tim. I’ve kept it here, in Maiah, safe. But that time is done Tim. I can’t keep it anymore. I am departing to the West and where I am going, this can not come.”
“Oh lord, you’re giving it to me, ain’tcha?” Tim’s drawl always brought a smile to Thaylinn’s face. Tim sighed again and pulled an herbal cigarette from his belt, lit it and continued. “I’ve had many experiences with old, powerful weapons. Hell, I threw on of the Swords of Doom into that lake right there. (see Ethilistyr) Shall we do that with this?”
“No, afraid not old friend. That won’t keep it safe. Tim, listen to me. I need you to take this thing far away. You are the only one who can do this. The Gherivon needs to be taken to my younger sister, Safein, to the land I am from: Theriol.”
“Wait. Hold up. You want me to walk, because I don’t know how else to get there, across the whole of Dao Tyr to give this little rock to your kid sister?”
“Well that is the long and the short of it, I suppose.”
“Thaylinn, that is going to take me twenty years to walk that distance.” The elf had nothing to say at that. Tim sat with his mouth agape. “This will be the last thing I do with my life. You know that I am an old man too, right?”
“I wouldn’t ask unless I was certain there was no other way. I believe that there is great fate left in this object Tim and I believe you, and my sister, have some great roll to play still. I can discern the stars aligning in a particular way. Please Tim, do this.”
“Okay, I guess. I’ll grab my boots.” Tim stood, extinguished his cigarette and finished the whiskey.
“Just like that? you are leaving now? Humans are astonishing”
“Yeah, just like that. There is only one way to start a long journey, and that’s to start it. Tell me though, Thaylinn…” Tim paused, lacing up his boots. “What can this thing do?”
“Well, for one, I can tell you that the power in this thing can ground any dragon.”
“Any dragon?”
“Any dragon.”
“Well hell, okay then. It just might come in handy. I think I’ll wear it as a belt buckle.”