Ah, and 'twas not just Dylan who slept that night, her dreams filled with fantasies of a better tomorrow and with hopeful visions of all the good things that might yet still be to come.
Donovan as well, was struggling to get to sleep on this very same auspicious night. His mind filled with thoughts and contemplations on what Searciara had said regarding Edvard Tan Crozier and what her father Colin had noted, regarding the tomb of Aloysius St. Abbot. That in the case of the former, St. Crozier had indeed come further than any other adventurer, when it came to this quest for the legendary tomb. He had left clear clues on how to get there, in one of his tomes. A tome ironically, which was in dispute, even before they got started. As Tan Crozier apparently in his past, had been known to make up tall tales for the sake of promoting himself and his reputation.
Something which then cost his reputation in the long run, as no one excluding Searciara or himself, believed the otter's writings on the journey to the tomb, to be real or reputable. A fact Donovan realized, as he sat up in bed and stared towards where a soft beam of pale moonlight was shining in through the window, then greatly frustrated him. As he knew, it was more than instinct, which was driving him and Colin's daughter to believe that the otter nobleman's last codex, was a key to safely navigating the tests and traps set by the six disciples of Aloysius St. Abbot.
What Searciara had said about the tablet her father had been carrying having an ancient word for 'cross,' encoded in it. A word which would've been inscribed around the time that Colin's order was really starting to grow and starting to come into its own, and when at the same time, was when Tan Crozier made the purported claims that he had found the lost last route of St. Abbot and his Disciples, before he gave the instructions on how and where, he was to be buried.
Donovan sighed, as he stood and went to the washbasin. The marten so as not to wake his sister, turned it on softly. The cool water as it came rushing down from the spigot, pooled into his cupped hands before he splashed it softly against his face, and looked up to the mirror with a refreshed but still slightly exhausted expression.
Dells. He needed something to eat. Maybe a piece from the Battenberg cake they'd savored last night would do?
The male marten shrugged. "It's worth a look," he murmured quietly, not wanting to wake his sister who as he tiptoed toward the door, was still sleeping soundly. Her form curled snugly beneath the sheets, she startled her brother but once, as she produced sounds of rustling beneath the covers and of quiet murmuring. Noises that but for a moment, led Donovan to believe he'd awakened his sister, until he turned slowly and was relieved to find she was still fast asleep. She had simply changed positions and apparently had been talking to herself while dreaming. Something in truth, Donovan was grateful for, as he brushed a paw across his brow and breathed a sigh of relief, before he left the room and carefully shut the door behind him. The young weasel as he proceeded to make his way downstairs, then did the best he could to not wake or disturb anyone else in the house. The only noise came from ticking of a clock. The only light, from day's first light, as it came creeping in through the kitchen window. A pale beam, just barely visible; but which was still the most evident sign, that the shadows of night were waning. That indeed, the time for the night time moon of Selene to have center stage was over. Her radiant presence soon to be replaced by the sun Sol and its partner the daytime moon Mani, who in only a few hours would come over the horizon ready to fulfill their role in a pageant, that had endured longer than any sentient creature could know.
Donovan yawned as he walked sleepily into the kitchen and through the path of that faint beam of light which broke in through the window. A shadow danced on his illumined back, his mahogany fur appearing like a pelt of rust-colored flames, as he leaned forward and opened the door to the icebox.
"Let's see..." Donovan mused, as he looked around. The marten trying to decide did anything look good. "Hmm..." he murmured. "I got some leftover roast, it looks like. Some Battenberg cake...Mmm. I was hoping that would be in there..."
"Ahem."
"Huh?"
Donovan turned and his eyes went wide. "Searciara," he exclaimed, surprised to see the young marmovulpine up and about, much less standing so close to him at the icebox. "What are you...I mean...what..."
"What am I doing up at fifth shadow of the day?"
Searciara issued a rather casual shrug. "This is my typical routine, "she explained, as she gently pushed past Donovan to get to the pitcher of fresh Yakobi milk at the back of the icebox. "I get up every morning at fifth shadow. I have a bowl of cereal and then I pour some cold milk over top of it."
"And it doesn't bother anyone, you being up this early?"
"Why should it?"
Donovan opened his mouth to retort, but then found himself closing his mouth, and simply blinking in a dumbfounded fashion, as he realized there was no way to retort properly against the eight-year old's simple, yet profound logic. True, she was getting up earlier than everyone else, but she was being quiet, and wasn't disturbing anyone. She was teaching herself to be self-reliant, which made less work for her parents, and which made life easier for everyone all around..."
Donovan chuckled. He rubbed the back of his head, as he sat down at the table with Searciara.
Again, feeling a bit intimidated by this girl, as she seemed way too wise and intelligent for her age. He was reminded of how on the Hoarfrost's Halberd, Colin had described her to him as being a child who knew more about certain topics, than most professors could claim to have forgot. That, she was a girl who looked at things from a very different perspective than most people in this world.
Oh. And that was not including what Colin had mentioned about her providing a useful resource, when it came to locating information about a lost tomb that adventurers had been seeking for 1200 years. The fact that she not only had been able to put the pieces together, to confirm that Edvard Tan Crozier, the one everyone called a charlatan and who they dismissed as being credible, truly had done as he'd said; that he'd come closer than any other, to finding the tomb. But also, she was the first since Crozier had written his last manuscript, to realize the code hidden within it. That indeed, he had hidden the route he'd taken in the seemingly fanciful and outlandish verses of his last written text. The Sonnets of Saints and Sinners.
Donovan poured himself some milk and cast his gaze back to Searciara. Speaking of the Sonnets, he noticed she had this exact book laid out on the table, as she mumbled some things to herself. She was flipping back and forth through certain sections, and was writing notes down on a notepad, while also flipping back, and examining some notes that she must've taken earlier. Most likely, during the night.
Donovan cleared his throat. "Ahem," he murmured. "Whatchya'doin?"
"Huh?"
"The book." Donovan nodded down to where Searciara had The Sonnets of Saints and Sinners laid open on the table. "I was curious about what you were doing with it," the marten clarified. "I mean, I guess I thought we got everything figured out last night. The hidden code. The fact that there are seventy-seven verses leading to seventy-seven landmarks..."
Searciara shook her head. "I was wrong," she stated plainly.
"Huh?"
Searciara smiled. "Not about the code, don't worry about that," she reassured Donovan. "Just the complexity of it. I got to thinking last night, how it all was so simple to solve. Then I got to thinking, if Tan Crozier only wanted someone worthy to find it, why make it that simple? He wouldn't, right? No, so I got my whole collection out, went through it, and I realized there were certain lines that repeated in other pieces. I counted 75, in fact. Which I realized; these are the lines that are false leads."
"False leads?"
Searciara nodded. "Yeah," she said. "They either put you way off the trail, are just some fictitious landmarks he made up to throw searchers into a wild Optheryxian chase, or they lead to some deadly location you don't have a chance of returning from. Anyway, the only thing they have in common, is none of them lead to the tomb."
"And the landmarks coded in these two true leads...they will?"
Searciara nodded. The first one, the one about Ana's Tears, you already know, so I won't bother telling you that one again. But the second one... well, it's a little harder to translate."
"Oh?"
Searciara nodded. "You have to remember," she explained. "Edvard was an otter. So, he uses a lot of Otterian spiritual symbolism. In this he talks about, "I stand before the tears, those joyous tears, and pass beneath the veil of our lady in gracious humility. Before me, I see my descent into darkness. The trial I know I will survive. For at the end of the tunnel lies paradise. And I will find it. For I know of the light at the end of the dark."
Searciara rubbed her head. I mean, we know that the tears, are the twin waterfalls. The veil.... I dunno. I mean you and father are going to see Miss Gloriana today. She might now a bit more about this, than I do. As for the rest, it sounds like it might refer to steps, and to some kind of tunnel, that connects the various underground cavern systems throughout this region, with some kind of sun-lit grotto. Possibly where the roof of the caved in. That would allow strange as it may sound, for plant life to grow underground."
"Wait...so you think we 're looking for a tree that's growing...let me get this straight, in a cave?"
Well, underground grotto with a caved in roof actually, but you know what, no use explaining the difference. Yes. A tree in a cave that has a hole in the ceiling. That's pretty much what you want.
Donovan smirked. "Oh, I can't wait to see Colin's reaction when he hears this," he murmured, now even more excited than before, for the upcoming journey. "Where is he anyway? Is he still sleeping or..."
Searciara chuckled. "Oh, he's up," she stated as she got up from her seat and went over to the sink with her dishes. The marmovulpine as she approached, then stepped up onto a foot stool, making it less of a reach to place her dishes in the basin. "He's just out getting some herbs and such," she explained. "It's...well it's for me," she said, her tone turning soft and self-conscious. I really...don't like to talk about it much. But you...I feel for some reason, I can trust you with this. The reason I mean, why he has to go out and collect these herbs and such."
"Oh?" Donovan was both confused and intrigued, as to why the young girl was being so cryptic. "And... why is that?" He asked, waiting expectantly for the reason, as Searciara took a deep breath and again began to speak. This time in a fashion, where it seemed each word was chosen with the most meticulous and precise intent as she stated, "My father...He goes out to collect these herbs because of their use in a medicine. In...my medicine," she clarified, hoping she was explaining correctly, as she shook her head, and tried to figure a better way to put this.
"Umm..." Searciara stated nervously. "So... yeah. I have a condition called HIS. Hybrid Instability Syndrome. It... well, it's very common in people like me who shall we say, are the result of a mixing of two 'non-traditional' genetic pairings. What it does, is it causes me to have a less stable genetic structure than in the case of most Mintarans. My body is in fact, in constant conflict with itself. So, this medicine which my father puts together for me, acts as a pain reliever."
Donovan raised a brow. "Oh," he murmured, never having imagined that this could've been the case for the young marmovulpine the way she seemed cheerful most of the time, and the way she was almost always smiling.
"So..." he asked cautiously, not wanting to be insensitive, "H-How are you now? Do you hurt not having the medicine on hand or..."
Searcey smiled a little. "I'm managing," she said. "I admit my legs ache a little this morning, so walking downstairs wasn't a super fun experience. But other than that, the pain isn't as bad as it's been on some days without my medicine. I think, it's because it's spring. This season and Autumn, usually are the least harsh on me, since the weather is neither in one extreme, nor the other."
"Oh?"
Donovan cast a glance toward the window. He was glad this was at least a season which the young hybrid could handle. He thought about how he did not want her to have to suffer any longer than she had to. And he prayed, as he witnessed the gray light of Sol break over the horizon, that Colin would soon be seen returning with the ingredients for the medicine that would alleviate Searciara's pain. For of course, Donovan had no way of knowing where Colin was right then. That in fact, the prairie dog had gathered all the ingredients for the medicine. That he had placed them in the safety of a leather satchel, and was about 300 paces from returning to the house. The only thing which now delayed the prairie dog, was an essential detour, which he had been trying to put off for as long as possible, ever since he'd gotten home. He just, really did not want to go where he was about to go. He'd been telling himself, it wasn't as important as he really knew it was. That it could be avoided and delayed. Even though he truthfully knew, this chore could not be avoided forever. Especially when he thought of what he'd seen thus far of Donovan. The the young marten who in the eyes of most, might've been seen as nothing more than your typical everyday young weasel. An individual who in their eyes, probably was someone not really worthy of special attention, or who didn't really garnered significant notice; he was seen by Colin, quite literally, in very different way. The gift of the minor visionary, then not only allowed the prairie dog to see future events in the current timeline for those he came in close proximity with, but also he was able to see the true color and nature of a person's soul. An aura, which then radiated off of Donovan, in a way he had never witnessed before. It was like being in the presence of a blinding light, or a raging, undying flame. So much, passion courage, and life, bundled into one slender, unseemly frame...the prairie dog, sighed, trying to figure out, what it was that made this marten so special, as he used his staff to pry open an iron gate, that blocked the entrance to the archway. He managed, after a few moments to get it open. Then once it had been opened, reached reached forth and took a long-extinguished torches from out of its brazier. He lifted the in front of his lips. "Igna," he whispered, before he observed the tip of the torch bloom to life, with a crackling, dazzling flame. The prairie dog, now satisfied he had a proper light source entered the archway and followed a set of steps which as he descended down, he noticed the familiar hallmark, that they were crumbling and showed clear signs of abandonment and forgone care. For the mortar had long since chipped away. And All that was left, for the most part, was crumbling stone and masonry work. The prairie dog as he went deeper, then saw more signs of what this place might have been in a bygone era. He saw colored murals and what looked like some strange form of writing and drawing on the walls. The latter, he surmised, being either a form of cultural and artistic expression, or possibly just vandalism. It was really hard to tell the difference either way, he thought, as he went deeper and deeper. His footsteps echoing, as he now walked along some kind of underground sidewalk. The prairie dog as he approached a long silver tube with faded lettering on the side that could barely be made out as, "Pacific Coastal Mag-Lev System," paused for a moment. For he knew, this was the kind of thing which would absolutely fascinate his daughter. He imagined, as he continued on his way, how if he brought her down here, she'd likely be able to give him all kinds of proposed theories on what this huge metal tube, must've been used for. She'd probably also want to climb aboard it, and would want to study it up close, and would want to get a feel for every aspect of what it must've been like to be someone who used this titanic device on a daily basis, while living in what is now, a long bygone era. Colin as he finally made it past the huge metal 'mag-lev,' to reach a caved in section of the room beyond it, then chuckled as he carefully began to work his way through a narrow open space, in the middle of all this collapsed debris. And stated, "Aye, that'd be her alright. Ever my curious foxglove, always out to learn how things work. Always learnin', explorin', discoverin'. That girl...ugh...she's goin' places fer' sure," the prairie dog murmured as he grunted and emerged from the other side of the narrow opening into an area that he had long ago decided, must've either been used as the central source for water management in this place. Or, he also thought, it was possible that this had been the main hub for providing water to whoever would've needed or wanted it while passing through here.
Either way, Colin had to admit, this place must've been darn impressive in its time. Not to say, it wasn't impressive now, as Colin could never truly take in, the size and scale of this room. The way at one time, the huge metal tubes, most of which were rusted and broken now with water gushing out of them; would've all been interconnected to create an unseen maze of metal, for the sole purpose of transporting water from one place to another.
Colin shook his head, so to snap himself out of his awestruck daydream. He remembered he had a job to do. He couldn't stand around and listen to the the torrential force of all that water pouring down from above, the sight and sound Colin could only think, which then was akin to Mintara's strongest waterfalls.
Colin sighed. Focusing on what he had to do. He steadied himself, took a deep breath, and called out.
"EAGNA!" he hollered his voice echoing in the chamber. "Great ancient one, Ah' would have words with you!"
Silence.
Colin waited. And waited. He listened to the waterfalls pour down in the background, and after a few minutes was about to leave, when he heard heavy, thunderous wing beats draw near. Colin looked down, where he heard the wing beats approaching from.
"WHOOSH!"
The rush of wind he was hit by, knocked him on his back as a blur of shimmering blue and black scales shot upward from the bottom of the chamber. Colin looked up, as he got to his feet, and saw a mighty Wyvern, coming about to rest, on a nearby pipe above him.
The prairie dog prepared himself for what was to come, as he felt the voice of the wyvern creep into the avenues of his mind.
"Ah, little one," the prairie dog heard the voice of dragonoid speak to him, her telepathic tones resonating in a way, that he both felt at ease, but also felt an uneasy chill creep down his spine. "Tell me," the wyvern continued, as he endured this. "For what reason is it this time, that you call and say you seek Eagna and the words which she can provide?"
Colin gulped.
"The last time Ah' came to see you," he stated loudly over the falls, "You said we all have a callin'. You said Ah' have a purpose like any other, only mine was greater than most. And that when the time came, I would know what that purpose was. Do you remember that?"
The wyvern nodded.
"I do little hatchling," she replied, her voice continuing to echo in his mind. "I told you there was one who would arrive here, who would be unlike anything this land has ever witnessed. That he would be the start of a change in this continent, which has long since been needed."
Colin sighed. "This person..." he inquired. "Could it be a marten? A marten named Donovan? I met this young man on a ship the other day. The energy he puts off...it's unlike anything I've ever seen. Could he be the one you spoke of?"
"He could."
"Truly?"
"Then again, he might not."
"Eagna!"
Colin felt gentle ripples in his mind, as the wyvern chuckled. "I only speak, what must be spoken," she said. "It is true. Donovan has the potential to be the one I spoke of. He has the soul of a leader. The compassion needed for one too. However, is it his destiny, to be the one I spoke of? We will see. At the moment, I see many events in Mintara, keeping this from being true. I see Donovan setting the ball rolling and you playing a part in it. But I also see the great tree which Donovan will plant and cultivate, must die and wither, before the prophecy I foretold to you, will come to pass."
"Wait...so Donovan is only the beginning?"
The wyvern chuckled once more. "I told you," she said as she began to take off. "I can only speak to that which is currently so. Life is like a river. It is fluid, and every decision creates for us new options and new tributaries to flow along!" she exclaimed, as she then took off. Colin having to brace himself, as the wind gust she left in her wake, splashed him with water from one of the falls.
Colin snarled. "Gee, thanks," he growled really hating that wyvern at times. The fact that her wisdom always came in riddles, and that she could never give a straight answer.
Well...Colin took that back. She did give a straight answer on one thing.
Donovan. Somehow, some way...he was going to play a bigger role in the shaping of Mintara history, than anyone realized. And it was up to Colin, to make sure that role was fulfilled.
The prairie dog shook his head.
"Wonderful," he murmured as he headed back to the surface. "Just...wonderful."