Ceridwen's Eyewitness Account
It is a long way from Prexion to the Borderlands. A journey not for the weak of heart. Past the traders and the weary pilgrims, through the Northern Averil Forest and under the shadow of Harad's peak, by the dirt path below the mountain snows towards the ocean's shore I went. In a small boat I crossed the Ocean, reaching the island that lies in its midst. There under the Copper Tower of the Blue Dragon I took some rest. As I made the journey, the question in my mind was, "Where is Taliesin, why have I seen no trace of him?"
The quite waters became less so as I approached the delta of the giant Thakissis river. The waters roared and tossed my boat like a toy. I must confess my stomach heaved and I prayed to the gods for deliverance. It was granted, for I survived. The waters were quieter in the River basin. Only the river trout and the odd water lizard disturbing the waters. The smell of swamp hung in the air. I crossed the Bridge of Parac and rested at the Order of The Knights.
Them I asked the question that worried me before, "Where is Taliesin?" He was gone long they said, in a hurry, muttering to himself as if with some burden or worry on his mind. They could not even get a song from him, a bard of some stature. What IS wrong with him? What trouble clouds him mind?
I made my way further through Eastern Trade Route and on to the Borderlands. Home at last. The familiar smells and sounds felt welcoming, as only being home after months can be. The weariness in my bones returned seeing the silhouette of the palace stretch out before me. I made way through the palace corridors straight to the rooms of the Lady Kiran. The earlier I give my report, the faster I shall be allowed to rest- some warm bath water, a change of clothing and a soft bed to rest my weary limbs sounded like a welcome proposition.
Paying no heed to the servants that scurried through the halls, I stepped into the Grand Foyer. I familiar figure met my eye on the way out, I thought of calling him, but then the thought of The Lady waiting made me stop. I stepped into the Throne Room and then devastation met my eye.
The blue carpet was crumpled and covered with dirty footprints. The furniture overturned, stout oak looking tossed and broken like straws. The priceless tapestries were torn, as if some monster had clawed at it with its paws of steel. A brownish sticky substance spattered it, I reached out to touch it to find out what it was, but then recoiled in horror. I looked in desperation through the ruins, praying I would not find what I knew I would.
Her body lay crumpled in a heap on the floor, a dagger through her breast, a
red pool of blood slowly forming on the floor besides her. A golden goblet with
some drops of liquid still inside it, lay nearby. I fell on my knees besides her,
to check if she was alive. Praise to the Gods, she breathed. I called on my meager
Druid powers of healing to stem the flow. I must have screamed for when I raised
my head the Chief Steward and a circle of ashen-faced servants surrounded me. And
then Captain of the Guard appeared, the Priest by his side. Gentle hands took my
shoulders and I stepped aside, for a fully trained Cleric was what was needed to
save the life of the Princess Kiran of the Elven Borderlands, the glory of the Elves.
By Ceridwen