From the Pen of Mera Visi {Iaso's Death}

Translated from Keòen to Kevian by Lore Hieldin

One September the 2nd, in the 51st year of the reign of Kalo Freloch [1171]

They say that some of the best artists are the ones with the shortest day.

I've always known that the sun of life is setting much faster on my friends than me. Being a Terabikai, I know exactly when the sun will set on my life and I oft forget that the same knowledge does not hold true for anyone else except the Eldin. It further confirms to all who know me that Terabi and Osai both do not disclose everything that is to happen.

It is with heavy heart, on behalf of all of Leena, that Iaso Montàlo, son of Seo Montàlo, has gone the way of the sun in the very early hours of this day. He left his house sometime in the night, unaware of his surroundings and only in the company of his mind so awry, and ran down the rocky coast straight into the Mor Kean [Cayan Ocean]. It was along this abrupt and deep shore that his life ended and he was finally freed from the unsound mind that had caused so much pain, fear, and darkness to befall himself and all those around him.

In the early hours of morning he was discovered missing. Akèli looked all over the house and went down to the anvils, all the while hoping that he would be there, but knowing deep in her heart by the aura of Terabi that he was no longer on the earth. Both Kalo and I awoke from horrible dreams and knew in our hearts as well that something grave had happened. As soon as Akèli ran to my house with Kalo behind her, clearly distraught, I knew that Iaso had died. They did not know where he was but there was a certain eerie feeling of a soul gone from earth that all could feel. We immediately sent word throughout Leena that Iaso had gone missing and everyone that was able immediately set out to find him.

It was Ehry Freloch, the old woman who tended to the baths of the Ried Bhroch who found his body, safely resting on the sands of the coast, looking as if asleep, a look of final contentment on his wearied face. As we heard her cries and came running, I realized two things: firstly, that he was gone, and secondly that Terabi was the one who had laid him there, careful that his earthly shell would remain reverent and not lost at sea. I would later discover this to be Iaso's last wish-- that his body would be visible and in perfect form, not disfigured by the waves of the sea. By Kalo's vision, Iaso had left his home in the night shortly after all had gone to bed with the intent of going to the anvils but had again been overtaken by his broken mind and had run about a mile west, through the shallow waters of the Ried Bhroch, and down the grassy embankment to the small bit of shallow coastline that bordered the sharp cliffs of Dahsir. From here he entered the waters, still running without thought, past the point where the shallow waters suddenly drop. Still having no light, the waves and currents swallowed him up and it was at this place that the sun set on his life.

As those who were close to him arrived upon the scene, the cold aura of tragic death loomed above their heads. Knowing I could see him whether he was alive or not, I managed to hold my composure until Iaso's three children were brought down by their grandfather. It was then that Akèli ran to them shouting "He's gone! He's gone and he's not coming back!" Upon hearing her pained words and feeling so clearly of her grief and shock, the full realization that one of my closest friends was gone struck my all at once.

As she ran to the earthly shell of her husband to have a moment with him, I excused myself and fell to my knees, appearing in the comfort of the Realm. I stood, not entirely sure where to go. A feeling crossed my heart that I should go to the Gatherer's Hall and almost immediately I felt the unmistakable aura of Iaso, knowing that he was already there. I arrived seconds later and ran somewhat blindly towards the Hall of Windows. As soon as I reached the gardens however I saw him. There, to the left of the path, just in front of the marble steps leading inside the palace stood Iaso Montàlo. He had been restored to a state unmarred by his illness and his eyes twinkled as he looked at me with a soft, knowing grin. For the first time in my life, and for the first time in a long while for him, he was filled with life that flowed from him with no carnal restrictions. He stood tall and trim, his hands outstretched, and as I stood about ten measures back he bade me come forward. All sadness of his passing from earth left my heart and we ran towards each other, embracing and rejoicing in the perfection of his soul.

It was a while before I could speak, as I was overcome with emotion- gratitude that I was a medium and could visit anyone at any stage of their existence, sadness that nobody else had this power, happiness that Iaso was finally freed from his ailment, and riddled with questions. I started with the ones I knew that his family would want to know. He started by confirming what Kalo had seen and then began to answer all I could think to ask. The most comforting answer was to my question of if his death hurt. He smiled and simply stated:

"I didn't feel a thing. The last I remember was arising to finish some art pieces and then an immense vision to conquer the sea. The next thing I know, I was still and I could hear the hum of life itself. As I arose I was at first panicked and somewhat angry, realizing that I had died. However, almost as soon as I realized where I was, Terabi himself came to greet me. He knew of my state and calmed me, bidding me rise. I asked him to please place my body on the shore where it would be found undisturbed and he did so. Then he led me into the Realm of Aura where he knew it would be my desire to meet you here. While we waited for Leena to discover me dead I was treated to Gatherer's Hall and got to see wonderful art of mine and others and even got to read some literature to help piece my life together from the perspectives of others. Though my heart aches for my wife and children, being here feels as natural as life itself and I have never felt so free. Please tell them all of these things when you leave and tell my wife that I love her so much and that I will visit her through the Realm of Dreams."

I have been so fortunate as to remember these details clearly and have been able to write them down to look back upon. After we talked for a while I bade him farewell and returned to earth where I was again faced with the grief of an entire country in mourning. It is now late at night. Naidel and Jeffrey are both awake and weeping at the loss of such a treasured friend and artist. I have repeated the words which Iaso spoke to me to his lovely Akèli which has brought her some peace and comfort. A funeral pyre raft is being built and the earthly shell of Iaso lies in slumber in Dahsir Castle. It is common tradition, carrying over from our Catin cousins, that those who were inhibited by carnal defects are burned on a pyre to release their pure soul. Since he died at sea he is going to be burned at sea in a full, reverent, and loving ceremony.

To my dearest Iaso Montàlo, who has gone to the Realm of Souls much too soon at the age of 33, you will be forever loved and missed by all that knew you. Also, though nobody else could know this but me and Kalo, I even saw the ghost of Aranel among the rocks, grieving with everyone else. She will miss you most of all, as it will be a long time before she can see you again.

In loving memory of Iaso Eahron Montàlo, born on one 7 March in the 18th year of the reign of Kalo Freloch [1138] in Carohir, Montàlo and who went the way of the setting sun on one 2 September in the 51st year of the reign of Kalo Freloch [1171] in Leena, Freloch.

By the ink on this page we will visit oft.
Love,
Mera Visi

From the Pen of Mera Visi {A Night in the Realm}

Translated from Keòen to Kevian by Lore Hieldin

One October the 14th, in the 41st year of the reign of Kalo Freloch [1161]

Today, as I sit in my house, my young son sleeping in the bed within my view, I recollect the events of the night past. Today was mostly uneventful. Iaso is feeling much better and I saw him in the Law Hall this morning with sweet young Aio sitting in his arms and Akèli—her tired eyes the only sign of the previous night’s struggles—sitting with her head on her husband’s shoulder. It’s times like these when I realize how close we come to losing Iaso and how grateful we are that he escapes from the clouded nightmares hidden in his mind to return to us with a smiling face.

I looked over at him sitting there with his wife and son and our eyes met. He put his hand to his heart and bowed his head as a symbol of his eternal gratitude for my efforts to help him. As I look at him, a fresh and deep cut glistening red on the left side of his cheek near his eye, his eyes sunken and vacant, his expression blank, I can’t help but wonder how many can see past his appearance and feel of his dominating aura of good. What he lacks in physical appearance he negates with his ingenious ideas, quick wit, and charming friendliness. He is a good man, one with a great talent oft overshadowed by his cursed and imperfect body. I cherish my deep friendship with such a wonderful soul.

Last night, after a trying and frustrating evening, I retired to my house in the late hours; long after the sun had set. In a mindset of frustration, my soul ached for my dear Iaso who was struggling yet again with the ailment that stole away much of his judgment and mind. He fell yet again into another nightmarish vision of spectacular thought and image and had been anticipating it all day long. My latest potion is no doubt working but cannot stop everything, much like the stopper to the pipe that supplies water to the greenhouse on campus cannot stop all of the water that rushes forth with all its might. The aura of this one was very dark and fearful indeed. As he tried to describe to us what he was seeing he couldn’t get the words out so he feverishly grabbed at a pen and tried to sketch some sort of representation of the nightmare unfolding in his mind. We all stood by, recording as much as we could of his state of being, some growing fearful and others standing stone-faced, conditioned to his bizarre display. I was so hoping it wouldn’t turn to the loss of control that seemed to come so often now and he seemed to be coming back to us but then his burdened body was forced to surrender to that greater ailment and with a cry he was thrown back, his entire being like a stone. We were too late to reach him and the side of his head once again brushed forcefully against the shelving against the wall, creating a fresh new wound to add to his scarred appearance.

Those not used to this frightful scene ran out of the room while others looked on, their mouths covered with their hands in horror, as those conditioned to Iaso’s ailment ran forth to protect him from his surroundings. Being near the door, I kicked the threshold in anger and frustration. I truly hate seeing my good friend being stolen by something so evasive to help. No longer does this horrific scene shock me; it only angers me and pushes me to do more to find a potion that will cure him. Patience is the only aura that can make this terrible scene bearable and just my presence is enough to invite the aura of comfort into the room. After what feels like an eternity, Iaso is finally and eerily still and he is taken out in the arms of Eolan to my house where we quietly lay him on the cot and work to bandage his bleeding temple. I skillfully and carefully apply a numbing ointment to the deep wound which instantly stops the bleeding and will take away a lot of the sting when he awakens. While he sleeps here we also bundle him in blankets to prepare him for the cart ride back to his house. With his wife walking at my side, everyone is solemn and blank; we look like a dark procession of death underneath the starry night as Iaso lies on the cart, not moving a muscle. We carefully lay him on his bed and Aio, just a year old, sleeps nearby, watched by his grandmother who eyes us with pity, a look of earnest well-wishing on her face. As we turn to leave, I hand Akèli a small bottle with a new potion I have made to have him try the next morning. She manages a small smile as we retire into the night and I return home unhappy.

As I prepare myself for sleep, I walk out into the moonlit night, my dearest Naidel sleeping peacefully; Jeffrey asleep on his bed, unaware of what has just taken place earlier in the medicinal room of our house, being conditioned to all manner of people from Aranel to Iaso and beyond to anyone needing aid and barely opening an eye to the commotion. My soul is rent with anguish and I need to talk to someone specific.

Looking into the twinkling stars in the cold October night, I close my eyes and slip into the Realm, an immediate wave of warmth and peace overcoming my tired and burdened body. Opening my eyes, I am greeted by the familiar blue-lit cobblestone floors that stretch out in every direction. The aura of this place is one of warmth and peace and I head straight for the Gatherer’s Hall.

Upon arriving, I am greeted by the familiar alley of tall buildings alive with souls of living Terabikai and of all souls past. I make my way down the lovely avenue towards the majestic castle upon which Terabi resides. Entering the palace gates I stop to admire the lovely gardens aglow in many colors; the familiar blue glow radiating from all around. I slowly ascend the marble steps to the tall doors and with a wave of my hand they slowly open, exposing a very long hallway with a massive, vaulted ceiling. Ornate statues line the walls, alternating with pillars, and square windows the size and shapes of various portraits line both walls. This is a place I have been before; it is called by us the Hall of Windows. Here, we can communicate to anyone in Osai’s Realm of Vision. This place is especially made good use of by those who have died who have promised loved ones that they will always be in their dreams. It is also the place for those departed, as well as living Terabikai, to give counsel or warnings to those they love. As I look around I see a number of people looking through one of the many windows, quietly conversing with an ethereal face on the other side of the glass.

I continue onward, down the Hall of Windows, until at last I reach the clear door made of bright blue power that leads to the throne room. All initiates visit this room in their youth as it is here where they are given their weapon of Lovelight and taught in the ways of its use. Today I am in pressing need to talk to a powerful friend, my master himself. I stand tall at these double doors, glowing and almost alive, and kneel, bowing my head and placing my right hand over my glowing heart. As I do so, I feel an aura of great warmth and love and the doors slowly open. As I walk through, there in the middle of the room is the man I seek. He stands tall, his long, black hair framing his Catin face. His dark eyes glow white with his mark and his white robes emit a blue glow that carries the aura of his soft smile far beyond his physical being. In his right hand he holds a tall staff made of the same blue Lovelight that composes all of our weapons used to fight the cursebearers of the Realm.

As I walk closer to him, he lowers his chin as a sign of compassion and humility. Stopping a few paces from him, I draw my blade and take my stance, as is the ritualistic greeting of Terabikai in the Realm. He pulls his staff from the ground and holds it in both hands releasing a small flash of light with which I block skillfully with my sword. With this, he smiles and says, in a clear voice, “Mera Visi!” and returns his staff to the glowing blue of his chest. I do the same with my blade and, my hands together, whisper, “Terabi…”

“What brings you to my Realm this night?” he asked me.
I couldn’t hold it back and as I stood, looking into his eyes glowing with perfect and eternal compassion, I told him everything that had transpired from early morning until the moment I could finally go to the Realm. The whole time, Terabi didn’t move a muscle, waiting for me to finish. When at last I concluded my thoughts he simply nodded and held out his hands. Nothing was more inviting and I meekly walked up to him, embracing him. As soon as our beings connected I felt an immense power greater than my own which gave me newfound strength and comfort instantly.

After that, I asked him what I could do in my eternal quest to find the right combination of herbs that could possibly help Iaso and so many out there like him. We talked for hours within the walls of his throne room as we discussed my findings so far and things I could try and do. The most welcome thing that he did was give me comfort and strength with renewed patience to face the terrible affliction that my dear friend was born with. He suggested an area in Ardin that I have not yet visited which was home to some unique flora I would likely find useful. As our much needed and appreciated meeting drew to a close, I thanked him again for his love and for choosing me to be his servant in the lands of Jadali who would help shine a clear light on the lives of the Terabikai. Thank you, Terabi, for everything.

I am thankful tonight is of a completely different mood. As I conclude this journal covering the past two days I am in awe at how fast things change and how much people strengthen through their trials. May life go on in celebration of all things—good and bad—that shape us. I bid thee Nos Wha [good night].

From my pen,
Mera Visi

From the Pen of Mera Visi {First Encounter, Iaso Montàlo}

Translated from Keòen to Kevian by Lore Hieldin

One January the 2nd, in the 29th year of the reign of Kalo Freloch [1149]

Today marks the beginning of the fifth year of my life in Leena. In pursuit of my double mastery in Herblore I have had the opportunity to teach the young ones the inherent knowledge of the many properties of the various leaf and plant, as well as lecture those versed in the art on my new findings and discoveries. I am even beginning to be referred to by many as an Allan [one supremely gifted in the knowledge of plants].

This morning I was led by Mikal Egàlo to the commons [school house] of the 113th class [the children born of 1138] where I was greeted by those children of Leena who were mostly the age of 10, entering their 11th year of life. There, in the corner, lay a small boy with unkempt and wild hair. His eyes were wide and seemed to have a blank look to them. I remember the way they stared. He seemed to be disconnected from the rest of his class and I could see scars--fresh and faded--upon his crown. As I approached, Mikal and Eolan Salo (a doctor) turned to me, saying:

"This is Iaso Montàlo, of the Montàlo province. He has what we can only describe as 'a mind of unbalanced energy.' He constantly and oft sees things of spectacular magnitude and is able to recall them and dictate or write them down. He is aspiring to become an artist of metalwork and is very, very talented. I want for you, Mera Visi, to try and find a potion that will ease his unrest and help him to be more well than lost in his uneven emotions."

I do not know what to think of this yet. I can feel of his aura and it is one of purity and love unlike any I've felt. He is so innocent, his true intent often lost or masked by his broken body. His vacant eyes lit up upon my arrival and he was drawn to me like I was to him. I sat with him and talked with him a very long while. He told me he has heard of me and my interest and work in Herblore. His large eyes looked longingly at me and with love and trust, yearning for me to care for him and find relief to his frequent unrest. I vowed right there that among my studies I would go on a quest to find the right combination of herbs to aid his well being.

It is clear that he does not have the Curse of the Realm, but I have not seen anything like him. From what has been described to me, and what I was able to observe even on a day like today, all I can conclude is that he has an inherent condition that causes his emotions to go completely out of reality and his mind to throw itself into unsettling and warped visions. As I sit at my desk tonight after my daily studies, amidst more charts and graphs, after having made several hundred unfinished potions, this vision of the young Iaso Montàlo will not leave my mind. I shall traverse the Realm later tonight and inquire of Terabi on this matter.

From my pen,
Mera Visi

From the Pen of Mera Visi {Iaso's Sword}

Translated from Keòen to Kevian by Lore Hieldin

One May the 16th, in the 44th year of the reign of Kalo Freloch [1164]

It has been unveiled! Today marks a great day indeed. My good friend Iaso Montàlo has finished the replica of my sword and I am most pleased! Ever since he told me of making a full scale replica in the time past of one year, I have been eager to supply him with drawings, sketches, and personal descriptions. He has always had a keen interest in the Esthren del Terabi [Terabikai, or Men of Terabi] and has read through my older journals researching the Blades of Lovelight and studying their shape and grace. I have been, almost in secret, monitoring his work, with dear Iaso refusing to move on until I was satisfied with every bite and flare.

Finally it is finished and the sword is complete. There was a large ceremony held at Dahsir Castle and hundreds gathered on all levels to peer down into the central court gardens where Iaso stood tall, yet dwarfed, by Kalo Freloch, his beloved guards, Key Freloch, my wife Naidel, my son Jeffrey, and myself. As the multitude gathered, many who had only heard descriptions of my Blade of Lovelight through word alone were eagerly awaiting the replica. Finally the large and brilliantly white cloth that covered it was removed and a large sword of immense beauty was unveiled.

It was absolutely perfect and yet so perfectly also in Iaso's unique tempered style. It was cast in brass with an outer layer of eye-pleasing, metallic silver. The hilt was absolutely perfect, right down to the hand guards meant to represent the small twigs oft found in many potions. Even the detail of the likeness of cloth wrapping looked as real as when I hold the glowing, blue blade of power.

The crowd cheered as they saw it and my eyes filled with tears of gratitude and love of my dear friend Iaso. For a man with so broken a body, he had a truly brilliant mind and the man was a complete genius, a true gift to his craft. I gently took the sword, which was surprisingly light in my hands, and secured my hands around the hilt. He had even gotten the slightly oval shape correct! I held it high above my head and with all the familiarity I had ever known, shouted the Teracor 'Inne [Terabi's Creed]. My green eyes glowed so brightly with the mark that all could see that I was true to those words which rang through the whole castle. It was then set in a beautiful display case covered with glass, meant to be mounted in my house for all to see and admire. One day, when I leave this earth to permanently reside in the Realm, this sword will mark my memorial site in these very gardens. Until then, it will remain in my possession as something so very treasured of me, along with my many amulets and two beautiful handcrafted rings that he has made me.

My dear friend Iaso, how honored I am to call you a great friend. I shall never forget this day for all eternity. May this be a fond memory and a great story that I will share oft in the Realm forever more.

From my pen,
Mera Visi