A Millennium's Journey Begins with a Single Instant

It might have been a sunny, carefree late spring day in 561 DR had it not been for the thrashing, raving, wild woman my two assistants held down in the dirt road. Due to my years of vast experience, I recognized immediately that no one in their right mind would grapple a moving carriage. An exorcism seemed to be the obvious next step.

“Try to hold her still, Erlirinn and Tazlin. The demon within must hear my words and submit.” White foam frothed from the prone human’s mouth, and her eyes rolled back into her head.

“Grandfather, perhaps she is just having some sort of fit. I’ve heard of cases like this in my training…,” my young grandson, barely an adult at 13 years old, prattled on about his basic first aid training in the Lance Defender cadets. Ah, the foolishness of youth.

“Dodger Baden! Are you done calming those horses and can assist with this procedure?” Humans are always shirking their duties for nonsense reasons.

“Oh, no sir, Fire needs me to calm him through my beast bond, or he’ll upset Ice, and we don’t want them running off with the carriage,” Dodger mumbled in that odd accent of his which makes me think his mouth is full of tubers. He’s always chewing on something and spitting.

“Well, move the horses to a safe distance, man, and hurry back! Tazlin, maybe turn the human’s head to the side. She may be choking after all.”

I began meditating, humming an ancient, low frequency tune which slowly rose from my belly and flew across the heavenly planes to be heard by my god, the great and powerful Bahamut, the platinum dragon, the King of the Good Dragons, the Lord of Pure Incantations, the Justice Bringer, etc. Surely, he would lend me some of his power as he has every day of my life as a cleric, now going on nearly seventy years.

I could feel the power welling up within me. Dodger hurried back from the distant horses to help hold down the woman’s thrashing legs. I took a deep look at my patient. Spiritual healing worked best if I could identify with the patient. She was a young human, of poor means judging by her simple, dirty and ripped frock. Her hair was the more common brown. She wore no jewelry and carried no tools or belt. We had already checked that she had no weapons in her pockets. This should be a simple matter of commanding the fiend to return to its own dimension. I raised my arms in supplication for my god’s assistance.

Nine times out of ten, assuming the fiend is not so powerful that more clerics are required to work in concert, these procedures are rather anticlimactic. The monster disappears. The person recovers. We all go about our business. The other one-in-ten time, however….

“Oh, my gods, what is that coming out of her mouth!” A black cloud of smoke billowed out as if a fire in her gut had just been covered in wet leaves and grass, except being nowhere near as pleasant-smelling.

A foul shape began to form from the smoke. It was now four feet tall with elongated black arms ending in viciously clawed hands. It’s teeth and eyes gleamed yellow and bloodshot. As more smoke poured into it, two long pronged horns swept up and back from its skull and a pair of night-black, tattered wings unfurled ending in a single claw each about two feet above its smoking skull. The clawed feet were last to form. “Say some prayers that it might not enter you and resist it should it try,” I instructed.

Young Tazlin was the first to react. He rolled away from the girl and grabbed his nearby bow. The lad was inseparable from that bow. Even in his sleep he clutched it as if in a lover’s embrace. He nocked an arrow and let loose. The foul demon in part turned to smoke where the arrow should have landed so that it passed right through the fiend having nearly no effect. Tazlin wouldn’t be much use in this fight.

Erlirinn must have frozen in panic. Dodger fell back in fear, and Fire and Ice could be heard squealing in terror as the mental contact with their handler was broken.

Fortunately, my blood runs so cold you’d think I was a white dragonborn instead of brass. The first spell that came to mind was a cantrip I always keep at my fingertips. A sacred flame of yellow-white light projected from them hitting the creature full-on in the chest. A few more of those, and this should be quick work. “Erlirinn get up! Use fire and light against this creature of darkness!”

Coming to her senses she crawled backwards away from the beast and let loose her spell. She mimicked my attack with a sacred flame of her own. Some of the radiant energy burst through its chest as her magic hit it in the small of its back. The creature muttered something in its foul Abyssal tongue and began to fly off toward Dodger.

“Dodger, pray without ceasing! Don’t let it enter you!” That danger passed as the creature rose higher into the air. It got as high as the treetops before avoiding the bright sunlight and coming back down to the safety of the trees’ shade.

Another of Tazlin’s arrows did nothing but disturb a bit of shadowy smoke as it flew through the creature.

I couldn’t let it escape. It would be moving out of range of my next spell if I didn’t hit it hard and fast. I spoke the words of power and moved my hands into the sign of the eye upon my forehead. A flash of shaped blue light streaked from there to the target. Every inch of that black smoke was painted in blue and burst into flame. The creature was gone from this world.

“Whoo-hoo! Grandpapa, great shooting! Is it dead? Did you kill it?” Tazlin asked excitedly, jumping up and down so that his brassy head frills danced about. “My arrows did next to nothing to it. I was just about to blast it with my flame breath!” Taking a deep inhalation, the lad breathed out a thirty-foot line of fire to the treetop position the demon once held.

“Whoa, save your fire, lad. We may have need of that again sooner than later. As to your question, unfortunately no. I didn’t kill it, merely banished it back to its home dimension, likely the Abyss.”

Dodger stood shakily. “If you’ll not be needing me, I’ll go check on the horses.” They were even further down the road and looking back warily toward their handler.

“Erlirinn, how is our patient?” She kneeled down next to the girl who appeared unconscious still. Demonic possession can weary one. Looking around I could see no sign of civilization. We were about a day’s ride out, east of Never’s Winter.

“Still unconscious and likely weak and vulnerable. We shouldn’t leave her here.”

“Alright. When Dodger returns with the carriage, I’ll rearrange most of my writing supplies so there’s room. Tazlin, you ride on top with Dodger.”

Confident with the inexperience of youth and excited from our exhilarating battle, Tazlin quickly replied, “Yes, sir. I’ll hunt us some dinner from my perch. We’ll have fresh meat tonight!”

*****

“Awake finally? What’s your name?” Erlirinn questioned our guest whose eyes started fluttering as she moaned from pain no doubt. Demons do not care about damaging their hosts.

Reacting with a start, the young woman jumped further into the corner of the carriage seat at the sight of us. “You shouldn’t be near me! I killed them! Stay away!” By then she was shrieking hysterically. I found it hard to pretend to be asleep, especially with sunlight sneaking in around the curtains.

In her best bedside manner, Erlirinn confided, “It wasn’t your fault. A nasty shadow demon had control of you.”

The young woman cried to herself as my daughter-in-law caught her up on the battle, explaining about demonic possession and her innocence of any crimes. Eventually the woman calmed and spoke softly, “You may think this a joke, but I assure you I’m dangerous. I’m very, very bad. That’s why I’m running away. I can never go back home…. Where are we headed? Not toward Neverwinter I hope.”

Erlirinn shook her head and took charge of the investigation, which was all well and good since I was still feigning sleep. “No, our business takes us east. Is there someplace we can drop you off…? My name is Erlirinn Claammedamuur. That’s Claam-med-amuur, but call me Erlirinn. That’s Erl-i-rinn. What’s your name?”

“Oh, sorry, it’s Kirsa Flats.” Our guest seemed to cheer up a bit as she extended her hand. “I’ve never shaken hands with a dragonborn before. I thought it might feel slimy, but you don’t even feel cool to the touch.”

“Yes, unlike lizards, dragonborn are warm-blooded, thank the creators. Kirsa, I’d like to introduce you to father Tor-inn Cleth-tinth-iallor, but he is rudely pretending to be asleep. It’s just as well, he’s more of a writer than a conversationalist.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but where is the carriage going, Erl…Erlirinn?” It was at that moment that the carriage came to an abrupt halt, nearly tossing me to the floor.

“Whoa, Fire. Whoa, Ice!” could be heard from above.

Tazlin popped his head over the edge of the carriage and opened the door while hanging upside down. “Just another felled tree to be moved. How about a short break? I’d like to hunt a few of these beavers that are slowing our travel.”

No longer able to pretend to be getting rest, I instructed my grandson, “Take that bow of yours as you move the tree. A blocked road is often the ploy of bandits looking to rob wealthy travelers.”

Erlirinn chortled, “So we’re wealthy now? When did the Church of Bahamut start paying its clerics a decent wage? I know, I know. ‘We live lives of sacrifice and shouldn’t expect material gain.’” She was quoting my own words.

“That’s right, dear. Now please exit this infernal prison so I can get some fresh air. We’ve been travelling forty-one days so far by sea, river and land and have but one day to go to reach the most-likely-dead city of Rolaz-Garr before we will turn around and head back. I am hoping these last couple of days will be the most exciting of this monotonously tiring experience, but I would not like them to be filled with any more complaints.”

Erlirinn stared at me as if I had two heads. “Look who’s complaining! You just need a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow you’ll get to see your hometown. Who knows? Maybe the gates will be open and a thriving community of our brethren will be living there.”

It’s been seventy years since I last stepped foot in Rolaz-Garr. I remember that last night as if it were yesterday. I was only eleven years old and running with the crowd toward the nearest city exit. Crater Lake glowed red while a deep rumbling and shaking of the earth travelled up through my feet. I had just stepped out of the gate and looked over my shoulder to see an eruption of lava burst skyward toward the north city wall. The heaving of the ground knocked me down and away, which was just as well as the gate collapsed in a mountain of rubble. A fog of impenetrable dust rose and covered the city. I trekked around the city to the other gates but found the south and east gates closed and unyielding. The whole north wall was obliterated and flowed with lava so hot I could not get near. Those of us who escaped moved to the outlying farms for several months before the tides of war with the tiefling kingdom of Bael Turath required us to return south to the safety of the Arkhosian Empire. We eventually started our own community on the Golden Shores. I’ve been back several times to Rolaz-Garr over the years only to find Mount Garr now evacuated of all humanoid life. Rolaz-Garr, which had been the northern-most jewel of Arkhosian society, remains as silent as the crypt. That odd fog blankets the whole city, refusing all passage, even over the wall. It is as hard as stone and covers all but the most destroyed section to the north. The lava has cooled leaving strange tubular caves. In my younger years I explored many of those caves looking for a way in, but all end in rock walls or walls of even harder fog which neither chips nor dents.

We exited the carriage, stepping out into the warm sunshine. We were somewhat shaded by the trees, a mix of willow down by the water’s edge and maple across the dirt road. The scent of pine trees came down from the hills. A flash of yellow caught my eye. A goldfinch had alighted on a nearby branch. Upon my seeing it, the bird flew across the road and up a game trail to higher ground. “Did you see that, Erlirinn, a good omen, hmm?”

“Yes, think we should follow it?” she asked with a knowing smile.

“Let’s!” We were like children again, scampering across the sun-dappled road and through the knee-high grass on either side of a narrow muddy path.

“Where are you going?” Kirsa shouted before following us.

As I led the way through low-hanging branches, I would occasionally stop to spy a flash of yellow beckoning further. Erlirinn explained to Kirsa, “The god we serve, Bahamut, is known to travel with seven yellow songbirds. As such, we see them as good omens. It is said that if you follow one of these birds, it may lead you to Bahamut himself. They’re not really birds but transformed dragons.”

Passing through evergreen boughs, we reached the top of the hill which opened onto a flowering meadow. The place was perfect for Bahamut, the Grand Master of Flowers, to show himself in one of his forms, even big enough should he choose his true form, that of the platinum dragon, a blue-eyed immense winged being whose metallic scales were said to shine with a faint blue light.

“Another false alarm, I’m afraid,” Erlirinn sighed. “I should know by now not to get my hopes up.”

“How many times have you met him? And how many for you Master Torinn?” Kirsa asked.

Huffing to catch my breath, “None yet,… my dear,… but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t… go and look. We consider it an act of faith… to show our devotion to the Grandfather of Dragons. Anyway, it wasn’t for nothing. We can see Rolaz-Garr from here. My old eyes have gotten weaker, Erlirinn. What do you see?”

“That’s it at the top of that mountain? Above the tree line and rock, I see a circular wall. To the north, the wall is broken and the rock darker.” Erlirinn intoned.

“And what of over the top of the city. I see a white blur. Is it an unmoving dome?” I questioned, not wanting to have my suspicions confirmed.

“Yes, father, that’s what I see. I’m so sorry.” Erlirinn looked down at her hands. Kirsa sensed the dismay and laid a hand upon Erlirinn’s shoulder to comfort her.

“No change. Well, that was expected. Why don’t the two of you go down and freshen up at the water’s edge. I’ll be down shortly. I think I’d like to pray alone.”

With a nod of their heads, they turned to go.

I found a large rock in the center of the meadow and sat upon it. Closing my eyes I raised my arms, turned my snout to the heavens, and wept.

“Now, now,” came a male voice from behind me. “There’s no need for that.”

Standing, turning quickly and putting a hand to the mace at my belt, I was confronted by the most wonderous of sights. A wizened, golden-scaled dragonborn stood before me. His robes were white, and he carried a staff across his arms. Seven yellow birds flew in a circle about his head, and then in unison landed upon the staff.

Falling to my knees and then prostrate upon the ground, I covered my face with my hands, quickly wiping away the tears. Here before me was a vision, no it must have been the hallucination of an old man’s imagination. Rubbing my eyes, I looked up from the ground, but the image stood solidly before me.

“Rise, Torinn Clethtinthiallor, cleric of the Temple of Justice and Law. There should be no such formality between us. We should be old friends by now.”

“Old friends, but how? We’ve never met in person although I have dearly wanted it.” I immediately felt foolish for the first thing upon meeting him, I questioned my god.

“I heard all your prayers and was at your side all these years when you needed me. I sometimes wandered your cities as a beggar to judge the spirit of its people. You were a faithful servant and always saw to my needs. I am the one who should be honored to finally introduce myself to you!” he said with a booming, good-natured laugh.

“Wait, let me call for my daughter-in-law. She is only a few minutes away. She too is one of your clerics and must meet you. It will strengthen her faith.”

He held up one hand to stop me. “No, true faith is strongest without seeing.”

Intuiting my disappointment, he stated, “I tell you what. I will send one of my servants to her and lead her back if she’ll come. Sonngrad, go down again and give her an invitation.” One of the seven yellow birds flew from his staff and down the hill’s path. The others also took to flight in several directions as the ancient dragonborn whispered to them and pointed behind me with his staff.

I turned to see a white-tailed buck slowly sauntering into view along the path. It stopped, head bowed, antlers covered in velvet. “Do you care for some nourishment? It’s the least I can do based on the number of times you fed the poor.”

A bright light from the heavens instantly focused upon the deer. It must have died instantly, its skin flashed away leaving a cooked beast still standing on the trail. Not wanting to appear ungrateful I stepped forward, eyes glancing tentatively heavenward. I pinched a piece of meat from its flank and tasted it, fawning appreciation at the hint of burnt venison and hair. “Mmm, thank you.”

Bahamut approached the animal’s other side and took in a deep breath of its aroma. “I anticipated you’d come and wanted to see to your needs. The beast came at my request, like you. It knew full well it would be sacrificed in doing so, it but came anyway.”

Standing fully upright, shoulders squared back, I said “Are you asking me to sacrifice myself? Because I will. I have lived a full life. Even my grandchildren are fully grown. I was hoping this journey would be my last and have been looking for a fight to weight the scales of justice toward the law.” Looking downward, “My one regret is that I was not able to help the people of Rolaz-Garr. I don’t even fully understand their fate. What can you tell me of this?”

For the first time, this god before me looked uncomfortable and thought for many moments before replying. “The good news is that most of the people who lived at the time of your escape seventy years ago are still alive. They sleep in the city where time has stopped. I was instrumental in saving them so, working with another of the gods. The bad news is the spell will keep them off the table for a millennium.”

“A thousand years? I wouldn’t see them a month from now as my days are waning and I’m slated to return to Arkhosia,” I said, embarrassingly raising my voice.

“What would you say to instead accompanying me on a long adventure?” Bahamut’s deep blue eye’s locked with mine.

“My god, I don’t know what to say. I have served you all my life. I could not deny your request to serve you in what remains of it, but I am an old man. What use would you have for me?”

“About that… as I mentioned, I know someone who is very good with time manipulation. You would keep your mind, and your body would return to a youthful state. You would serve me until and if you died from an unresurrectable death.” A smile crept upon his lips as the knowledge of what he was asking shone in my eyes. My life was not coming to an end. I might not even be saying goodbye to my friends locked away in Rolaz-Garr. One day I may return there to find them all waking from a long sleep. I may have lost nothing after all this time.

“But I have a few responsibilities still in this old form. I agreed to test the seals on the doors to the city and document my findings,” I said while pacing a bit and fretting.

“Not a problem. I’ve taken the liberty of securing your journal and writing implements, and we can travel to the city in the blink of an eye.” Several of his golden servants flew into view carrying my personal items which were much too large for beings as apparently small as they were, alluding to their true strength. “What say you?”

Grabbing my items from the small hovering birds whose eyes flickered with lights of fire, ice or lightning. “Well, yes, by all means!”

As a large circular portal opened in the space between us and the ancient city, I could see within the fallen western gate which I had escaped those seventy years ago. It was just as I remembered it, though perhaps the plant life was more overgrown than the last time I checked. I was going home, just for a visit, but I had hope that in a thousand years or so, I could come home to stay.

Bahamut smiled. “Now I hope you’ll make me look good in your journal. We should leave it behind when you finish your entry.” Seven birds, one god, and I passed through the portal which quickly closed behind us.

As it did so the last voice I heard was Erlirinn’s arriving at the meadow. “I swear I saw at least three yellow birds flying this way carrying things. Torinn, where are you?” All they would have found however was an overcooked, ill-prepared deer carcass. I can only assume they made camp there for the night and resumed their journey to Rolaz-Garr the next day after finding no trace of me.

When they came upon the ancient city, they must have been surprised to see I had signed the seals upon the city gates with the previous day’s date and my initials. My journal was carefully wrapped and set obviously upon a boulder for them to find. The last entry read, “To my fellow clergy, friends and loved ones: I go now to serve my god more fully than ever. I have discerned Rolaz-Garr will sleep another nine hundred thirty years and doesn’t need us to check on it until then. I have it upon an ultimate authority that the city was locked away to keep a powerful weapon out of the hands of the demon prince Orcus’ worshipers who plague this region. I hope that you and I may cross paths again for time is now my ally. Yours in his debt, Torinn Clethtinthiallor, servant of Bahamut.”