Caer’Junt was not how the stories had described it, not that a one of them had agreed on anything at all beyond that no one should go there. It was on the edge of the Grey Wall, implanted into the side of a living mountain, obsidian glittering in the morning sun to cast reflections which vanished upon being seen. A single storey, this tower, the rest of it dug deep into the mountain below. Feint veins of grey and black could be seen in the ancient stone, as if it had muscles that were trying to flex and expel an intruder. A narrow road led up to the entrance, taking the winding path of least resistance.
The tower had no windows but was made of glass forged by magic. It meant something: most things did, here.
I walked up slowly. The tower had no guards: such a place as this has no need of guards, and that was one of those reasons was why I had come here. I pulled my tan cape tightly over my cloak and quickened my pace, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. Even under noonlight, the air here had a chill. It was a mere two hours down the side to where my mount waited, if Sunshadow had not found cause to flee. My erstwhile guard had fled the day before upon realizing my destination: I owed them no ill will since only one had tried to kill me.
I had a sword at my side, and dagger in a boot, and a third hidden elsewhere: none of them were a reassurance. There were perhaps twenty beings living in Caer’Junt at present; I did not know how many of them could be called people. Perhaps the Sealers had their ways to deal with them, but I had only trained briefly in their ways and left to find a way that was wider than a narrow journey through life. Ironic, given this narrow path I had ended up upon.
The tower had no door as I approached. The glass looked impossibly smooth despite the fractal light it cast. It was somehow both see-through and opaque and I tried to grasp that a doorway flowed into existence where the road ended at the tower base. The glass looked too sharp, the shadows beyond it sharper still. I removed neither weapons nor clothing as I stepped inside: a moment of shifting darkness, as if the world had moved while I remained still, and then a warmer darkness.
A large, wide room lit by sourceless wan green light. Rich earthen stone was warm and pleasant even through my boots: there was a well-made wooden table – Euikal, given the rich woods that flowed together to make a seamless piece. Three chairs surrounded it, all the same design and devoid of backing. There was a stairwell beyond the table leading down into the mountain, and at the table sat an old man in light brown robes.
He was bald, with a short white beard flecked with grey and hands smoother than a Principality could easily claim despite a few wrinkles from old age. His head was turned toward me, and I could see the gaping holes where his eyes had once been.
His name, I knew. There were stories about him before he first removed his eyes. Barthanwaite was said to have failed to unify fifteen years ago because he spoke to two random people and incited a bloody conflict without trying. He looked old, but not harmless and carried himself with a calm certainty.
“Kylim the Unseen?” I said, making my voice a question.
The old man inclined his head slightly. “Come, sit.”
I walked over and sat: the table had two bowls off clear water to drink from an an ornate metal bell of northern make, ice-blue but devoid of their usual runic markings.
The chair shifted slightly under me until I fit easily in it. Euikal wood fetched prices fit to bankrupt entire cities. My back ached, but I ignored it.
“May I have your name and business?” he asked politely.
“Liesh Klimth. I have come here on behalf of the Principality Dyos Vkondis, who seeks aid to protect the western borders against an assault from Karqella.” I removed the cape and set it on the table, where it rolled up into a tight scroll. “I come with a travelscroll for proof, and the name that he seeks.”
The old man rang the bell, one simple gentle peel that barely echoed. “And that would be?”
“The Silent.”
The old man leaned forward slightly. It was hard to tell, given he had gouged out his eyes, but I had the feeling he was frowning. “What do you know of the Silent?”
“Nothing. I suspect it is why I was given this assignment.”
