Preludes

Preludes

Book I of the Lion Chronicles

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Letter I

From Ekemet, a djinn bard, at Emberwilde Inn, in Kaf, the realm of djinns and efreets, to his wife in Femeref.

My Dear Jorael,

I received your letter yesterday, and was glad to know that our darling girl Panya has gotten such a good place in Femeref and likes her new mistress so well. Know that I don’t grumble about the gold that’s spent in sending you with Panya to take care of her. Poor child, she was too young to be trusted to make this journey to the world of humans alone. Naturally, you were the best person, to go with Panya—whose wellbeing is more precious to us than any gold. Besides, when I married you, I had promised you a trip someday to see the splendorous capital of the human kingdom. Finally, that promise has been fulfilled. So, once again, don’t fret about the gold that’s been spent, I shall soon repay it.

When you left, you know how bad the business at The Dancing Scimitar was getting. It was so bad that I thought to myself, “Wouldn’t it be better if I try my luck singing at Emberwilde Inn?” I flew there straight away, and, thank God, have got on well there. And now, I come to some strange news.

The third afternoon after you left, a young human came to the inn. He looked very pale and his clothes were wind blasted, and he asked for a bed. Before the landlady could answer, he got faint all of a sudden. He was so faint and ill, that I felt obliged to lend a hand in getting him upstairs. The next morning, I heard he was worse, and it was just the same story the morning after. He pretty much worried the landlady, being so restless a soul and talking to himself with strange mannerism, especially when night falls. He wouldn’t say what the matter was with him, or who he was, we could only find out that he had been stopping among the fishing folk further west and they had not behaved very well to him (shame on them, and fellow humans too!) Well, we djinns can never understand the afflictions of flesh, so in the end I went and fetched a medicine man for him. When we got into his room, we found him all pale and unmoving, and looking at the ceiling blankly, as if his soul was in some faraway plane. The medicine man described his condition with some hard names which I can’t remember, but it seems the illness is one of the mind rather than the physical shell, and that he must have been through some great shock which shattered his reality. The only way to do him good, as the medicine man said, was to have him carefully nursed by people he knew; familiar faces around him will likely draw his mind back to the real world. The medicine man asked where his family lived, but he wouldn’t speak to us. And lately, he’s gotten so much worse that he doesn’t seem to be listening to us anymore when we speak to him.

Yesterday evening, he gave us all a fright. The medicine man, hearing me below, asking after him, told me to come up the stairs to help move him to have his bed made. As soon as I raised him up (though I’m sure I touched him as gently as I could), he fainted dead away. While he was being attended to, a shiny object fell from the chain around his neck. Upon a closer look, it seemed to me that it was a small angel figurine crafted from some sort of crystal. Now, there are no angels in Kaf, or in Femeref, or in any other places in this part of the world. I recalled the alien accent with which he spoke when I first met him in the inn and I am sure that this young man must be from some distant kingdom across the Eternal Seas. I picked the crystal angel up, for I remembered the time, Jorael, when you and I were courting, and how precious the least thing given to me by you was. So I took care of it for him, thinking it might be a keepsake from his sweetheart. And sure enough, when he came to, he put his thin white hand to his neck, and looked at me in silent gratitude when I connected the little thing to his chain again. Just as I had done that, the medicine man beckons me to the other end of the room.

“This won’t do,” he whispered to me. “If he goes on like this, he’ll lose his reason, if not his life. I must search his backpack, to find out what friends he has, and you must help me.”

So the medicine man searched through his belongings, and among them was a crumpled tome. It is certainly arcane, for I sensed the wild electricity of magic sealed within its cluttered pages. The medicine man sensed it too, for he stared at me for a short while before placing the tome carefully on the floor. The young man was looking at us all the while without any trace of emotion on his visage; he didn’t seem to care for we were doing. Next, the medicine man found three letters tied together. Well, the medicine man said there was no reason to open them, for the direction on all the letters was the same and the name corresponded with his initials marked on his vest.

“I’m certain this is where he lived, so this is where I’ll write to,” said the medicine man.

“Shall my wife take the letter, Sir?” I said. “She’s in Femeref with our fledging, Panya.”

“Excellent, Ekemet!” he said; “we’ll do just that. Write to your wife and put my letter inside yours.”

Now, Jorael, dear, go at once and see what you can find out. Let us know directly what luck you have had, for there is no time to be lost.

This has become such a long letter, that I have no room left to write anymore. God bless you, Jorael, and God bless my darling Panya! Give her a kiss for father’s sake, and believe me,

Your loving husband,

Ekemet.