“Rune Lore is an art lost on the tides of Time. They exist everywhere and remain riddles simply because deeper studies reveal they are not all the same designs. Strongly suggesting our perceptions of history are ill conceived.” Lecture on Philosophy, Jeremiah Delalande.

The Necromage.

The Necromage walked across the desert, clutching a staff that carried a serpent twisted around the oak. The hand wrapped around it was bone with desiccated skin stretched taught.

“The Emerald has conditions. Iolas is to remain here as eyes to reveal when the infiltrators try to follow through with their task. Everyone else goes through. Afterwards, all return, including you, Ehrendil, and all those exiled. Your task is to regain control of the Ljósálfar and banish all who stand against you.”

Flynne smiled, recollecting the frustration Mortain was renowned for. Cryptic over clarity. Her mind was tempered by the allusion to another oncoming storm. She suspected he inferred the necromage was not dead

The three Key Masters convened an hour before the summons of the Assassins Guild Master, Lord Cresswell.

“Jeremiah, have you learned anything about the crow prophecy?” The Amanuensis added flame to candles on a large table inside the Vault’s antechamber.

“The greatest threat to peace are fanatics. I unearthed a parchment deep inside the vault. The Magi of Enigma were such a sect whose sole ambition was genocide.” Jeremiah Delalande, Lecture on Thaumaturgical Archaeology.

“It came from an imaginary dragon that was a carving of an owl on that staff wielded by a madman. He said it was a Dragon Stone.”

“The Sapphire,” Yish knelt to look at it. “Naz, that means….”