1326

Scribed by Terentius

Spring 1326AD

I sit here on a day I did not expect to see, gazing over the records of a journal I did not expect to read again. The turning of the year is oft a time of deep reflection and introspection. Spring arrives sun-bright, unbinding the land from winter’s heavy chains. Frost-fetters slowly give way to droplets of morning dew, heralding a period of rebirth and reawakening. For many, it is a time for optimism, as a focus on mere survival can be replaced by more ambitious plans for growth and improvement. Yet, at Severn Temple, doubt, and even some suspicion, cloud our future, for some argue that Theoclea’s return represents a defiance of Fate that will come with a grave price.

Fate! What is Fate but a hammer used by immortal Gods to beat down mortal man? By whose decree is Fate carved in such imperishable stone that it resists all attempts to alter the text? Must we meekly accept the constraints of Fate, perhaps wistfully wishing it were not so, but ultimately doing nothing to chart a different course? If so, how meagre and inconsequential are our lives. I once wrote of Fortune’s Wheel, but that was simple allegory designed to make an unsubtle point. Still, while Fortune and Fate are not the same, I believe it is our Nature to oppose both. We may not succeed, but what a waste of a life would it be not to even try?

Even if they do not intend to mislead, the immortal Gods can be wrong! For all their great power, they have neither perfect understanding, nor perfect foresight. Volutus alone is proof of that. Against all prophecy, he achieved the impossible. Did he truly unweave the threads of Fate, or were those warnings simply wrong? In the end, it hardly matters. The lesson, I think, is that a single determined actor can change the world, if they are willing to defy the constraints of Fate. Myddyn was also wiling to challenge the boundaries set for us by immortals. I know many doubt him, partly driven by the slander of Gods who jealously wish to keep mortals in their place, but it is hard to deny that Severn Temple has benefitted greatly from our interactions with him over a great many years. I do not harbour such reservations; if this scheme unravels in the end, as others of his have in the past, it will be our failing, not his.

At the spring council meeting, Naevius was re-elected unopposed as Princeps, having completed his previous twelve-year term. He has been a sensible and moderate voice throughout the period, often allowing opposing camps the opportunity to air their views without showing undue bias or favour. I wondered for a moment whether another would stand against him, for I know not everyone shares my opinion, but ultimately any potential challengers decided against it.

With that matter resolved, Naevius asked Theoclea whether she had any news from her time at court. She explained that she had not encountered any members of my former House during the season, noting that Primus Argentius was no longer in the king’s favour, which limited his access to the court. It was still possible that members of Eurus Aquilae may have been present but in disguise, though this would make their actions more difficult. Theoclea also clarified that she had not told her brother of the specific threats she faced to avoid turning a delicate situation into a perilous one.

The conversation then meandered into a discussion of the recent Wizards’ War declared by Salustria. Our initial concern was that there might be future challenges, but Theoclea said that she suspected that Senior Quaesitor Romanus would resist repeated requests to authorise Wizards’ Wars on the same topic. Further attempts based on novel grounds are still possible, but Romanus’ actions may at least afford us some temporary respite. I noted that my former House would undoubtedly learn from the first failure, and we should also use the opportunity to lay more considered obstacles in their path.

Returning to the tale of her time in the mundane court, Theoclea described the uneasy truce between England and France. Many English nobles had travelled to the continent to reclaim their ancestral lands, and there remained an unspoken desire on their part to extend their domains into lands not covered by the initial peace agreement. Theoclea’s view was that there was no immediate prospect of war, though it was only a matter time. The same could be said of Scotland and Ireland. In the latter case, the feeling at court was that the authorities in Dublin were fermenting rebellion against the English lords who had claimed lands in Ireland, and there was talk of organising an expeditionary force to put an end to Irish independence once and for all.

Theoclea also revealed that she was attempting to convince her brother, who appears protective of his family to an almost maniacal degree, to take a more considered view of her safety. Theoclea told him that she must feel able to take some risks in her research, and she could hardly do so if a reverse would lead to a dangerous over-reaction on his part. She does not believe that she has fully persuaded him yet, though there are some signs of progress. Finally, Theoclea announced that her royal stipend had been returned, which she will once again use to bolster our coffers.

As we turned our attention to our plans for the year, there was an extended discussion of an expedition to Mynydd Myddyn, most likely in the summer. Theoclea, Jari and Branwen each spoke of their reasons for undergoing such a trip. I was initially concerned that there was no real focus to their plans; if so, I have little interest in accompanying them, for we risk simply going over old ground. However, at length, they each convinced me that they were not motivated simply by idle curiosity, but rather a desire to advance their investigations into how to survive the disaster that looms over all our heads. Theoclea’s interest centred on the crystal caves, as she believes that some of the memories that lie within the crystals may relate to Taliesin’s prophecy; Jari expressed an interest in the dolmens on the hillside near the Awakened Forest, presumably as a way to tap into the latent power of the land; and Branwen desired to speak with the Greak Oak, which has been done before, but not by one with her unique background. I mentioned that Myddyn had shown me a secret entrance to the regio that allows passage without the great loss of time that normally occurs; this may allow more extended research than in the past.

The remaining matters before the council are not worthy of particular note. All magi decided to remain within the covenant, save Theoclea, who travelled to court in Winchester.

The season itself passed quietly. I believe that several members of House Flambeau briefly docked their ship near Lydney, though Pyrrhus has yet to divulge any details of their business. I suspect it relates to his recent journey to Iceland, but it is possible that there may be other reasons for their presence.

Summer

The Council met on the first day of the season, though our discussions were uncharacteristically brief. Theoclea, Branwen, Jari and I reconfirmed our intention to travel together to Mynydd Myddyn, whereas Naevius and Pyrrhus opted to further their magical studies. With nothing else requiring collective discussion, we brought the meeting to a swift end.

Having made our way first by barge and then overland to the outskirts of Mynydd Myddyn, I led our group to the hidden path into the regio recently revealed to me by Myddyn. Jari has a natural intuition for such routes, and once I had showed him where the path began, he was able to follow it easily enough, even though it was entirely invisible to the other members of our party. The path emerged on the western side of the first level of the regio, close to a large area of woodland. Taking to the air in the form of an eagle, I conducted a broad survey of the region; everything appeared quiet and unchanged from previous visits, though I noticed signs of woodsmoke rising from the Cymric village close to the lake in the north-west of the regio.

We debated for a while whether to make contact with the villagers, or simply to avoid their settlement, but we ultimately decided that the others would approach them, while I remained watching from a distance. In contrast to our previous encounter with that group, this time we received a warm welcome, aided by Theoclea’s familiarity with their native tongue. Interestingly, though not entirely unexpectedly, the villagers were different individuals than those encountered previously, almost as though many years had passed between our meetings, and they had no memory of what had happened before. After being invited to a meal, my sodales departed with permission to explore the regio and an offer to trade foodstuffs for items such as iron tools in the future.

Thereafter, our group split into two to pursue different goals: the first party, consisting of Branwen, Jari, Races-the-Wind, Captain Merrick and Gavan, headed off towards the Awakened Forest; while the second, comprising Theoclea, Leolf, Simon and I, travelled to the entrance to the Crystal Caves. I shall deal with each group in turn, for our experiences were rather different.

Within the Awakened Forest, Branwen was able to converse with the Great Oak for several hours. She learned that the tree, unlike others she had spoken with outside the regio, had no sense of the coming darkness from the east. It revealed that the Shining One had told it that there would be a further storm to come in Mynydd Myddyn, which would lead to these lands moving further from the mundane world. It also suggested to Branwen that, if she wished to learn whether other awakened trees outside the regio could help forestall the infernal plague, she should consider calling a Council of the Trees.

With its business in the forest concluded, the group made its way towards the dolmens that lie at the top of a steep hill to the east. It had been Jari’s intention to traverse the regio boundary and study the standing stones, but both he and Races-the-Wind detected the sensation of dangerous, wild magic as they climbed the slope. Recalling that this hill had once been the home of the Shining One, Jari decided it would be better to retreat for the moment, rather than risking encountering any residual Twilight from that entity’s presence. The matter is certainly curious, for I confess that I had assumed that, with the completion of Volutus’ work, both he and the Shining One would have fully departed the regio, but it seems that traces of their magic linger still.

Instead of continuing up the slope, the group returned to ground level and spent some time exploring the forest in the southern part of the regio. At length, they discovered a new source of herbam vis in the bark of a copse of silver birches, and they briefly visited the sacred spring, collecting samples of the water and moss. There, they also spoke with the Maiden, one of the aspects of the pagan triple goddess, though they learned nothing of use, for the young woman seemed neither aware of, nor concerned by, their tales of coming disaster.

During this time, Theoclea, Leolf and I entered the twisting caverns below the earth. The grog who accompanied us, Simon, was ill-suited to such travel, for his broad shoulders meant that he repeatedly got stuck in the narrower parts of the cave system. Though it slowed our progress considerably, I could have coped with this inconvenience, but the man kept singing tunelessly about his mournful plight, which convinced me that he was not taking the matter seriously. After he refused to shut up for the third time, my patience snapped, and I used Silence of the Smothered Sound to render him mute. In hindsight, this caused more difficulties coordinating our actions that I anticipated at the time, but such was the price of temporary peace of mind.

As we made our way deeper, it became clear that there had been changes in the caves since my previous visit. Notably, the black lake on the second level of the regio was not to be found, and there were streaks of silvery rock embedded in the walls where previously there had been no such decoration. More importantly, as we traversed the boundary into the third level of the regio, we discovered that the cavern that had once housed Myddyn’s fractured memories was now empty, with no sign of the large crystals that had once covered every surface. Theoclea speculated that, as recorded in this very journal, the Crystal Caves were known to move their position over time, perhaps in response to some magical stimulus, and we therefore decided to explore further to see if we could determine their new location.

Alas, this proved to be a dangerous undertaking that brought us close to disaster, a salutary reminder of the perils of pushing too far without a clear plan. Having reached a small chamber where the only exit was a vertical shaft rising upwards, I bade the others wait while I explored further through the use of Rise of the Feathery Body. I eventually located a narrow passageway leading horizontally from the shaft, but rather than pause while my companions followed, I decided to press on to see whether further exploration was worthwhile. After some time, the passageway emerged high in the wall of a cavern so vast that my lantern could not illuminate more than a small portion. I heard the sound of rushing water below, and I made the fateful decision to descend to the cavern floor to investigate. As I did so, I was attacked by a number of giant bats, which swooped out of the gloom, broke my concentration on my levitation spell, and sent me tumbling to the cavern floor. I managed to fend them off with my sword, though I was sorely wounded after one of the bats latched onto my back and bit into my neck. It became clear that the roof of the cavern was home to a great host of these creatures, and my attempts to reach the exit through either speed or stealth were thwarted by the swarm. Exhausted by these efforts, I found an overhang that offered some protection against their attacks, and I fell unconscious.

In the meantime, my companions, who had become concerned by my extended absence, attempted a rescue, though their efforts were made more difficult after Simon slipped while climbing the vertical shaft, smashing their only lantern to pieces as he tumbled to the ground. Fortunately, Theoclea was able to conjure a dim light to guide her way and, leaving Simon and Leolf in the dark as she pressed on further, she eventually reached the great cavern. She was also attacked by the bats as she descended from the entrance passage, though she was not harried so violently as I had been. Sprinting across the cavern floor, she was able to reach my sanctuary, rousing me from my slumber. After we had both caught our breath, we were able to plan an escape, relying on Perdo Imagonem spells to render ourselves invisible and silent. Exiting the cavern, we made our way back to our two companions and returned at length to the surface. There, we encountered Jari, Branwen and their party, and we all made our way out of the regio.

In all, a most frustrating season, with new obstacles to our plans, and little reward for our endeavours. I sense that Jari and Branwen’s research will now lead them elsewhere, but I shall have to return to try to find he Crystal Caves. More carefully next time, though.

Autumn

Our council meeting began with discussion of how best to adapt our plans to the reverses suffered in Mynydd Myddyn. Jari spoke for a while about his nascent theories concerning the possibility of harnessing the power of the ancient stone henges to gain access to the latent magical energies of these lands. His current interests appear focussed on the mystical ley lines that he believes connect many or all of these henges, though he was uncertain whether they have a specific role to play in his plans, or whether they might simply provide a way of locating other, as yet unknown, stone circles. Theoclea posited that, if the ley lines do indeed link the henges, there might be a way to use them to transmit the effects of a ritual conducted at one circle to all of the others. This seems like an intriguing possibility to me, and to this end, Jari agreed to spend the season investigating whether it is possible to reveal and follow the ley lines.

Branwen then spoke of the ability of living wood to act as a bulwark against the powers of the infernal, much in the same way as the trees around Severn Temple have long protected this place against the various forces arrayed against us. Again, she was vague about how this might be done and whether it would prove strong enough to resist what we know is to come, but she remains convinced that it offers a potential solution to our problems. To this end, she explained that she needed to spend more time in Hermetic study to advance her arts to the degree needed to learn the ritual Calling the Council of the Trees. I announced my intention to return to Mynydd Myddyn to search for the Crystal Caves, and Pyrrhus agreed to accompany me.

After the meeting, Jari and Races-the-Wind travelled south to the Trellech Stones to begin their investigations. Although the Trellech Stones are a much more modest affair than the great circles of Stonehenge and Avebury, Jari believed that it was safer to start small while he sought to become familiar with the intricacies of spotting ley lines. His efforts bore fruit, for at length he was able to detect three separate paths, invisible to the naked eye, radiating from the site. Two of the lines appeared to end – or were at least interrupted – as they crossed church grounds, but the third made its way via an as yet undiscovered stone close to Raegwulf’s cave towards Severn Temple, where it began to spiral inward. Jari experienced something a vision at this point wherein he had the choice of following any of the three lines. He chose the third, and he experienced the sensation of moving forward through time, starting in the past and travelling through the present to the future. At various points he saw figures from this covenant’s history, notably those such as Idris and Cormoran who had made close study of pagan practices. Rather ominously, as the vision moved into the near future, Jari was plunged into an unending darkness. Whether this signalled that Severn Temple’s history would come to an end at that point, or that the future was as yet unset, is unclear, but he was left with a sense of foreboding. Races-the-Wind noted that the moon had told him that the three ley lines offered no solution to our problems, but Jari was determined to press forward with his investigations, and they spent the remainder of the season confirming his findings.

Pyrrhus and I journeyed to Mynydd Myddyn, entering the regio via the secret path I had learned a few seasons ago. We entered the tunnels beneath the valley in the northern part of the regio, and we made our way to the chamber where once the Crystal Caves had been. I had just explained Theoclea’s theory to Pyrrhus, when he suggested that, rather than moving in terms of their physical location, it was possible that the Crystal Caves now lay on a different level of the regio. Why this had not occurred to me before, I cannot say, but he proved to be quite correct: using Discern the Elusive Boundary, I was able to detect another silvery boundary at the heart of the cavern. Commending Pyrrhus for his insight, I attempted to lead the two of us into the higher level of the regio; my initial effort met with failure, though I was able to push us through on the second attempt. There, the cavern was much as it had been before, festooned with giant crystals, with the skeleton of a great wyrm lying at its centre.

This new level of the regio was of the ninth magnitude, putting it on the very edge of the otherworld. Thus, we chose not to linger overly long, beyond conducting a brief exploration of the extent of the cavern. Though I no longer felt a strong, subconscious urge to glance into the crystals, my gaze inevitably fell upon them as I made my way through the place. Pyrrhus later informed me that I fell silent for a while on two occasions, but from my perspective, I experienced two strange visions that seemed indistinguishable from reality. In the first, I believe that I participated in the hunt in the form of a wolf; after the kill, I transformed back into Myddyn and spoke in Cymric with a woman, who was also able to shift between animal and human forms. This strikes me as an old memory of Myddyn’s, much as Theoclea has previously speculated; perhaps I was drawn to it by my own affinity with wolves. In the second vision, I re-experienced my encounter with Myddyn in the tower he had constructed outside these caves, though this time as a disembodied spectator, rather than an active participant. The conversation was exactly as I remembered it, though I had a powerful sense that Myddyn already knew the answers to the questions he asked me, that he was enjoying himself, and that he had already decided to agree to my request but was making me work for it. Theoclea subsequently told me that this was in line with her experience of his manner during her earlier discussions with him.

[Terentius’ private journal: I briefly mentioned to the council that I had a third vision, but whether through forgetfulness, tact or disinterest, they did not press me for details when I did not describe it. In this vision, I once again saw my conversation with Primus Argentius and Quaesitor Pravia in Blackthorn when I explained my decision to rescue Theoclea. However, as in the case with my conversation with Myddyn, there were once again details that I had missed the first time. In particular, the two exchanged a knowing glance as I spoke and, unlike Argentius, who expressed his disbelief and outrage with my actions, Pravia seemed entirely unsurprised by what she heard.

These visions raise two interesting conundrums in my mind. The first is that the crystals appear to provide insight into past events relating to anyone who gazes into them, not just Myddyn himself. If this is correct, it seems to be an extraordinarily powerful tool if wielded correctly. The second is that my actions had been anticipated by the leadership of my former House. If this is right, I am puzzled why they did not act to stop me given the stakes. It surely cannot be indolence nor lack of determination to do what is necessary; there is a third possibility, but I struggle to believe it.]

With our goal completed more quickly than expected, Pyrrhus and I decided to leave this level of the regio and investigate some of the as yet unexplored tunnels of the cave system. This proved easier said than done, and after a couple of failed attempts to cross the regio boundary, I was forced to use Rend the Mystic Veil to create a more direct passage. Venturing further, we eventually passed through another regio boundary and came to the edge of an underground lake that stretched into the gloom. Pyrrhus noticed a large, serpentine shape moving within the water, and he seemed eager to give battle, but I convinced him that this was not the time to take such a risk. Instead, I sought to lead us back through the regio boundary, but the correct route again appeared elusive. Fearing that we might become trapped if we repeatedly failed to find the exit, I once again cast Rend the Mystic Veil, but this time something went terribly wrong, as my dagger cut a far deeper rent in the regio than I had intended. I felt a strong flash of Twilight, though I was able to avoid being totally overwhelmed by the wild magic, though the sensation did not fade as I stopped concentrating on the spell. Still, I had no desire to remain so close to such a dangerous phenomenon, not did I want risk using the enchantment again, so I made another attempt to find a safe route to a lower level of the regio. Fortune was on my side this time, and we were able to extricate ourselves from the area.

As we left the tunnels, we noticed signs of a gathering storm with uncharacteristic rainclouds. We did not speak much on the way back to the covenant, both brooding on what new problems I had unleashed back within the regio.

Winter

Unsurprisingly, our council meeting focussed predominantly on the events at Mynydd Myddyn. As I recounted the tale, several of us recalled the parallels with the misadventure suffered by Archimagus Tiarnan over a hundred years ago. Naevius thus suspended the meeting for a short period while we consulted the covenant records. Although there are similarities, the circumstances and consequences seems to have been slightly different in the two cases. In particular, as recounted in the journal entry for 1194, Tiarnan seems to have inadvertently created a passage to the lands of Arawn, the pagan god of the dead, while attempting to access the dolmens near the Awakened Forest, which resulted in various spirits attempting to return to the mortal realm. In my case, the rift appears to lead to a place of deep Twilight, with no signs of such spirits. We speculated for a while whether this was connected with Jari’s recent experiences in Mynydd Myddyn, but we reached no firm conclusions. In Tiarnan’s case, the tear was eventually mended through a pact with the Ceridwen, a pagan goddess connected in Welsh legends to both Gwion Bach and the Tegid Foel. She apparently charged Tiarnan a black pearl for her services, and there were hints at dire consequences should he not make good on his side of the bargain.

At this point, our discussions descended into acrimony, as Pyrrhus and I disagreed on the best way forward. I shall not repeat the details here, save to note that Pyrrhus argued that my desire to research whether there were any alternatives to concluding a similar bargain with the Ceridwen was a waste of time and that I was simply seeking to avoid the problem. The wider discussion did throw up another name, that of Lleu Llaw Gyffes, but those with relevant expertise felt that his talents focussed more of smithing, rather than the sewing or weaving needed to repair the rent. Ultimately it was decided that Branwen and I would first visit Mynydd Myddyn to see whether there were any signs that the storms were increasing; this might provide more information on how urgent it was to repair the rift.

There was little else of note discussed at the council meeting, save Jari’s tale of his investigations of the lay lines last season. We speculated that the spiral centred on Severn Temple might be the work of the Morrigan, who had closed many of the paths that might be used by occult entities to bypass our defences. Theoclea noted that Hypatia had occasionally spoken of hidden paths that she could use to traverse large distances at great speed, and we speculated whether these paths might be connected to, or the same as, the ley lines.

After the meeting, Branwen and I travelled to Mynydd Myddyn to observe the gathering storm. To my eye, it seemed much as it had been before, perhaps a little stronger, but not markedly so. Branwen, on the other hand, had a deeper sense of foreboding, having discussed the matter with the Great Oak. We observed no other changes to the regio, which was something of a relief given previous encounters with the Shining One and its creations. Regardless, we agreed that there was no reason to tarry any longer, and we made arrangements to meet with the Ceridwen later in the season.

[Terentius’ private journal: Branwen and I journeyed to St Briavel’s Well – an ironic name given the circumstances – on the night of the full moon. There we encountered the Ceridwen, a goddess who takes the form of an old crone, as she conducted pagan rites by the natural wellspring. Branwen clearly knew the rituals and traditions required to placate the goddess, and she addressed her in a deferential manner. She explained our problem, and the Ceridwen agreed that she could prepare a thread that could be used to stitch the torn regio boundary back together, though the needlecraft would have to be performed by another. Her threefold price for her services was most peculiar: first, an eye of experience from one who had seen the world and known both love and death; second, the tongue of a liar, who knew not truth from falsehood; and third, an as yet unnamed service from Branwen, which she would call in soon. We had little choice but to agree, and the Ceridwen bade us return with the first two items at the next full moon.

Branwen then returned to her studies while I set about trying to locate the items. I shall not recount the various twists and turns of this seemingly impossible task, which took me from Gloucester to Bristol, via both Chepstow and Monmouth, as I struggled to find suitable sources for the items. Our spymaster, Stefan, and Branwen’s companion, Gwendolyn, both played vital roles in providing and following up leads, though the majority of the direct inquiries fell to me. I must have investigated almost a dozen candidates, rejecting each in turn as unsuitable. For example, liars were ten a penny, but those who truly believed their own lies, far less common. My own conscience also weighed heavily on me, for I was reluctant to take the life of anyone who did not deserve it, though I grew more desperate as the weeks passed and the deadline loomed.

Eventually, I learned of a ship captain named Roland, who had recently died of old age. His background indicated that he had travelled to faraway places and had experienced the full range of life’s experiences. After his burial, I snuck into the graveyard at night, uncovered his corpse and remove his eyes, though my attempts to rebury the body to avoid attracting undue attention were thwarted by a late-night watch patrol. I was forced to flee with the task only half completed, which made it seem as though his corpse had been desecrated by an enemy or rival. Obtaining the second item was even worse. I eventually learned of a madman named Gavin, who told fantastical tales that he swore were true. Using Mentem magic, I was able to learn that he truly believed what he said, even though they were obvious fabrications. Alas, though Gavin was an elderly fellow, my hopes that he would conveniently pass away from natural causes were confounded, and I faced the terrible dilemma of what to do as I grew ever shorter of time. Eventually, seeing no alternative, I slew Gavin and took his tongue, leaving his grieving household in my wake. His death was cruel and undeserved. The fact that it was necessary provides me with little comfort, since it was my mistake that caused the original problem. Wherever his spirit has now gone, may it be granted more mercy than I showed him in life.

Branwen delivered the two items to the Ceridwen, and she declared that they would be suitable for her enchantments. She bade us return at the next full moon, where she handed Branwen a silvery thread that she said would repair the tear in the world if stitched with sufficient skills. She also old Branwen to prepare a needle and bathe it three times in the light of the full moon. This will need to be carried out through spring, which means that we should be in a position to return to Mynydd Myddyn at the very end of that season or in in early summer. May this be the end of a wretched episode.]

By the end of the season, Branwen and I had made the necessary arrangements to repair the rent in the regio. Some additional work is required over spring, but we should be in a position to do so by the end of that season.