Lysoskevevos's page

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As the only donors, Isat and Rufinus grasp the bier. It moves easily, drifting on nothing. A caryatid, the same one from yesterday, carries aged Lysoskevevos in its marble arms. He is dressed in fine white linen robes. Paper is carrying the staff of office.

As soon as you are off the slab, Lysoskevevos speaks.

Once this begins, it will happen inexorably. There is a chance that Hrothgar may be disoriented and confused by his ordeal. If he did not cross the Styx, he will remember all that has happened to him on the far side of death. He will need comfort, and understanding.

I trust you all to do what must be done to keep safe my legacy. Were my sons alive, they would not be better guardians than you. I see that the prophecy is fulfilled in my span, and that is as much as any man could ask.

I left the tower. I rested, and the gods in their mercy have granted me another day to perform my art. I am ready. Bathe yourselves completely. Wash from head to foot. The agencies I call to our side to perform the miracle of resurrection are proud. If you have left any piece of yourself unwashed, they will know. Take your time. When you are ready, I ask that all those who will give of their days take hold of the bier. If you will not give of your life to aid him, do not touch the bier, and do not touch the water.

Crassus is gone ahead. I had to give him a mission, or he would have tried to grant of his days. His pride would not have taken a refusal. Centaurs have some of the worst traits of men and horses. Stubbornness and pride among them.

Wash carefully, and decide now among yourselves how many of your years you will spare for your fallen. I warn you that the skein of his life may yet be short. Atropos has little sway here, but it may be that you give of your span, and he yet falls to the sword, or the pest. Be charitable, but not foolish.

My sons did not come here with me. All of them fell in fine battle. Allow an old man some secrets. He smiles, and waves to the attendant caryatid. It serenely stoops to pick him up, like a mother with a toddler, and bears him upward, into the chambers above you.

Age makes way for youth. It is wise that the gods made us so. You must make your own way. It is not my realm now, it is Imperator Gnaeus Cornelius Papyrus realm. Were I not to pass, I would choose exile. Do not make it seem like there is choice. I will go upstairs to my chambers now. It has been an honour to meet you all. I am sure my own small tales will be mere footnotes to the fate you carve for yourselves. The caryatids will attend to your needs. I will see you in eight turns of the dial.

In my prime, I could destroy these invaders with a word, turn them to dust, encase them in iron, send them to the abyss, or transform them to goats. Alas I feel I have little left unspent. I fear that raising the dead will be the death of me in turn, but I go to my reward knowing that I lived well, and dreamed large. I took a world from a god in a duel, and made of it a sanctuary for all that I loved. I sent my soul among distant stars, I lay with a woman of infinite worth, and she bore fine sons. I counselled Hector, and was taught by Chiron. I have been in many forms, and seen worlds that no other has seen. It is my time. I am content.

Time does not move here. You should all get some rest. You will not need refreshment, but we can serve you with illusory food if you will it. After you have slept, you can make your plans, and then bear me from the tower into the flow of time. I will then have my spells and dweomers anew, and I can wish for your companion to rejoin us. If I survive, carry me back into the tower, after young Isat here has done his physick to his satisfaction. You have all the tools I know how to give. If I die, which seems likely, bury me under the great hazel tree in the grove of the fauns. Crassus can show you the grove.

Now rest, You have bloody work ahead. Take joy in this time, for it may be I will have your company in Hades.

The old man beckons to the caryatid. He gives it an order, and it goes upstairs. It comes back down with a small chest, about two feet square. It places the chest at Isat's feet, then goes back to its post.

This is my old component case. Most of the items in there are very precious. For great magic, one needs offerings of great worth. Take what you need, but you may not have the rest until I am dead.

You have taken the magic weapons that I kept in the sky for you. Crassus can lead you to where King Thereus guards his people. The village you saw is where the rebels live. They must put aside their differences, and fight for their defense. The fires must be put out. You must get to the weather wheel, and make rain. You know how to control the conditions of this plane. Use that. Do not touch the path with the staff. That will whisk you back to your old world.

They have control of the weather and the time of day. Men are always afraid of night. If you can cut them off from the entry gate, and make nightfall and fog, you will scare them indeed.

You speak of the Helblight wraith. That must not be realeased. It hungers in a way that cannot be satisfied.

Be careful of the fey. They are not tame, and they will ask for favours in turn. Many are the heroes who saw their lives ruined by the court of change.

We must examine our attackers. Look ye into the pool, and think of what you must see.

I am sure that you have questions about this world, and how it came to be. This book is an attempt to codify my knowledge of this wondrous place. Take it, and look for your answers there, after I have passed to my reward.

This staff was made at the same time as the realm itself. It is the symbol of office, and all who dwell here know of it. None of the denizens, no matter how fae, will harm he who wields it.

The scrying pool will show what you will. It cannot look into the future, and it cannot look outside this realm. It can show the past. The wise will see more than the foolish.

This tower is outside of time. So long as you stay here, you will not age, and will not tire, nor hunger, nor thirst. When you enter, you will stay hung in the moment, like a fly in amber, and when you exit, be your stay a day, month or even year, you will exit at the same instant that you entered. I encourage you to rest and research before you leave. You will not heal here. You will not rest enough to learn incantations and prayers, nor will your time here change your fates.

The staff is the key. All of you may hold the staff, and place the end on the marble road. You will appear in my tomb, outside the chamber of the chorus.

Now look upon the invaders, and plan. When you are ready, I will impose upon you to carry me from the tower, with the mortal shell of Hrothgar, and place us on the path at the foot of the path of dread. Your friend did not eat a visitor's feast, and the shock of the fear would kill him otherwise. After I sleep, I may perish, or I may rise for another day. If I rise, I can prepare the spell that will restore him to you.

Make your plans and ask your questions.

This is an empire.

Lysoskevevos looks delighted.

I accept your sword, noble son of the mighty Roman tribe. As men do not share power well, I name you king of the lands of the marble tower. Your friends will swear to the land, but they should swear to you in turn, as I will not split the inheritance.

Your fallen friend can be returned to life, but only at grave risk to me. I must rest, and learn the spell to raise him. That I cannot do in this place outside of time. I would need to let the sands of my life flow again, for at least a day. We will see if your physick may ward Pluto from his fair claim on me. Those who wish to grant their time to his span will need to bathe in solemn ritual, and then must bleed into his cupped hands. I will not accept Crassus petition, as it is a mistake that compels him, and his guilt is misplaced.

There is instruction you will need, and that must happen here, before time finds me again. There are powers of the land that you may draw upon, and strange ways and paths that you must know how to open and close. You will need to know the numbers and disposition of your troops, before you lead them into battle, and you will need the way of entry and egress from the realm.

First, though, I ask that you swear your fealty to Gnaeus Cornelius Caesar, and to the lands of the marble tower.

Lysoskevevos looks openly to Isat and says

The tomb tested you. First, you showed your mettle in battle against the chorus. Then you gave fair challenge to Aiolos Chryses, Then you gave honest obeiscance to the door, Then you showed your will against Zeno, proving to yourselves that the heart is stronger than logic. You did not defile the words of the wise, but sought their council in the room of the shadow. Like wise Diogenes, you conquered your greed, and sought only the sun. You showed your patience, and received the panoply of the stars. You listened to the taboo against bloodshed and fire, and dealt in good conscience with those that many would call monsters, and you ate of the fruits of this world freely, which allowed you to enter this tower. Now one of you, son of the Tiber, pledges his sword, and all is as the Oracle foretold. Apollo himself told me of your coming. A spy with false testament. A healer who is a man, but makes milk. The slave who is a king. The gelder of the false king. The wizard who was last from the cave, but did not die. And one more that is not here. The turncoat killer. The fates brought you here. They wove this, and all is good. For fifteen score years and seven, I have waited for this moment. All is good.

Now, please, swear your allegiances.

The dying mage beckons to the silver bowl in the floor. Images of yourselves fighting the skeletons in the tomb float on the water.

I watched you all once you entered my realm. I have always known that this world would be discovered one day. I could have sealed it off in such a way that none could ever threaten it, but then I would not be able to achieve my ambitions. I left the gate open, and set the guardians in place, to find heroes such as yourselves. The Oracle at Delphi told me that my dream would be safe, but only with seven heroes guarding the gates.

I left the gate open so that you could find me. I seek heirs to my burden. I seek guardians of my realm, who will be free to wander from their world to this one, to guard against threats from without and within.

I have seen your character. I have seen your piety, and I have seen your steel. You are the heroes I seek. I do not know who the seventh could be, but the six of you are the answer to my prayers, and the fulfilment of the prophecies.

I offer you my world.

Then, Gnaeus Cornelius Papyrus, tell my why you have come here.

I am, perhaps in the last hour of my life, but by my art, I have stretched that hour into four centuries. I am beyond the art of mortal physick to cure.

What are your names, and your lines?

Welcome to my aerie. Please sit. I am Lysoskevos, and you have passed all of my tests. I am truly sorry to have caused the death of your comrade.

You are safe here. Please tell me whence you came. and which of the worlds you come from.