The Lost History of Sathyriel, Part Eight

It's done. 44 pages. 16,541 words. I actually finished writing it yesterday, but I held off on posting it so I could check for typos.

Of course, it isn't "done." I have to edit, make sure everything's consistent, rewrite some part, maybe change some stuff around. But draft number one is finished and that's what I always find to be the hard part.

Comments and such.


The world came back to Joren gradually. First it was the heavy, medicinal scent of ground herbs and thick, syrupy potions. Then he could feel the hard wooden chair he sat on and Anaskida’s feathery head brushing up against his cheek. He could hear her wings rustling and the soft footsteps of the healer who had remained in the back room with him. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Cyra was still lying on the bed before him. She hadn’t moved and her eyes weren’t yet open, but her breathing had a more regular rhythm to it. The dark energy was all but gone from her body. Only a faint trace of it remained, crackling around the scar on her cheek. Joren suspected that whatever choice Cyra made, that scar would never heal. It was not uncommon. Many of Joren’s former patients had such lingering scars, reminders of their ordeal and hopefully of what it had taught them.
The remaining healer had just noticed that Joren was stirring. Her grip on a small glad bottle she was carrying tightened visibly. She started to say something, but apparently thought the better of it.

“You’re awake?” she whispered. She was trying to keep steady eye contact with Joren, but her eyes kept falling back to Cyra.

“Give her a little time,” Joren said quietly, recognizing where the healer’s real concerns lay. He leaned back heavily in the chair.

“Can I get you anything?” asked the healer, still keeping her voice low.

“Just some water, if you would.”

The healer went over to the small table, picked up a wide, shallow cup, and filled it from a bucket of water. She brought it over to Joren, who thanked her. He drank about half of it, and then offered the rest to Anaskida, who took several delicate sips. Evidently unsure of what else to ask, the healer tried to busy herself with the soiled bandages, occasionally stealing a glance in Cyra’s direction. Joren sat and waited.

If the room had not been so quiet, they might have both missed the sound. It wasn’t so much a moan as an exhale with a slight tone to it. Were Joren and the healer not waiting for even the slightest sign, they might have dismissed it. But both of them looked up as soon as they heard it. They waited, hardly daring to move.

Cyra took another deep breath, quietly this time. She stirred, her body shifting slightly to one side. Then, she opened her eyes.

Joren smiled quietly to himself. The healer gave a squeal of excitement. The door to the front room flew open and almost immediately, the small back room was filled with a crowd of people. The elf general who had greeted Joren upon his arrival came in first, followed by several soldiers. The general in particular looked relieved and kept murmuring something Joren didn’t catch. The healers crowded in next. Both they and the soldiers began talking all at once and soon it was impossible to make out any one conversation. Close after the healers shoving her way through the crowd came the head healer, the one the general had called “Tolla”. Even over the din of the soldiers and the healers, Joren could hear her yelling at everyone to stand back and give Cyra some breathing room.

Joren slid out of his chair and held out an arm for Anaskida to climb onto. He could just smell the faint aroma of what was probably a stew hot off the fire and he was starting to realize how hungry he was. Once Anaskida was back on his shoulder, Joren made his way through the crowd. Some of the soldiers and healers stopped him to thank him or congratulate him. He gave them quick thanks and moved on.

About halfway across the room, Joren felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Tolla standing next to him. Her face looked nearly as serious as it had when he had first seen her, though maybe a little less severe. Without a word, she gave Joren a short, deliberate nod. Joren smiled and bowed slightly. Tolla turned and started pushing her way towards Cyra’s bedside again.

As he reached the door, Joren turned and took a last look into the room. The crowd was starting to spread out and Joren could just see Cyra. She had turned on her side and was looking straight at him. The noise in the room was still too loud for Joren to hear much and he doubted Cyra had her full voice back yet, but he could still make out the words from the shape of her lips.

“Thank you,” Cyra said to him.

Joren, smiled, nodded, and left in search of the stew.


Official History

The Keltarian forces were defeated late in the spring of 709 at the Battle of Kelja Reik. Cyra herself slew Talshak, effectively ending the Keltarian occupation and uniting the kingdom of Sathyriel. The capitol was moved to what is now known as Drey Fandhil. Today, Kelja Reik lies abandoned and Talshak’s castle is a crumbling ruin.

General Marehnu was killed during the Liberation of Isudra, a key battle that established a crucial stronghold for the rebel armies. His strategies were instrumental in the success of this and other major battles. He is one of the seven generals honored by the memorial at Generals’ Square just inside the gates of Drey Fandhil.

Tolla of Millshaven was a well-respected healer who saved many a life during major battles of the war. After the war’s end, Tolla was knighted and highly decorated for her services. Lady Tolla served as head healer of the Sathyrian army, and then went on to found the Whitecrest Healers’ School. Under Lady Tolla’s guidance, the school has become a highly regarded institution, which gives aspiring healers a strong education in the fundamentals of healing magic.

After a severe injury during the Liberation of Isudra crippled her left leg, Peren of Aeshur Keep spent the rest of the war analyzing intelligence. When the war ended, Peren left the military. She traveled to Drey Ossar, a former dragoncaller village where Peren’s own ancestors one lived. Peren befriended the local Mosa dragon clan and began a study of dragon and dragoncaller cultures. Today, thanks in part to Peren’s work, Drey Ossar is a well-known center for dragon studies.

Lusaya, the white dragon who raised Cyra, fought in many major battles during the Sathyrian Independence War, frequently alongside her adopted daughter. She is now one of the leaders of the Vaar dragon clan. Her image is Cyra’s family crest and one of the symbols of Sathyriel itself. She is not a frequent visitor to the castle, but Cyra often travels up to the Vaar clan weyr to visit with her.

The wandering hero Joren Roosdrahm never settled in any one place, even after the war. He continued to travel the kingdom healing those in need with his unconventional magic techniques. Though the exact circumstances are not known, it is generally accepted that Joren once healed Cyra or someone close to her, for the queen always held him in very high regard. Cyra offered Joren an official position at the castle, but he declined. He did come to speak at the Whitecrest Healers’ School on at least three occasions. His fame caused many young healers to seek him out and ask him to take them on as apprentices. Of the likely hundreds of potential students he approached him, Joren took on only a handful. Only six are known to have finished training under him.

Joren passed away in the summer of 721. His age and the cause of his death are both unknown, but those who knew him agreed that he was quite elderly. Cyra went to visit him in Orkanholt shortly before his death and may have been present when he died. By his own request, Joren was cremated and his ashes were scattered at an unknown location. His six students were summoned to Drey Fandhil by Cyra, who bestowed upon them the Order of the Golden Falcon. Joren’s students continue to carry on his legacy and pass on his teachings to those who wish to learn. The Order of the Golden Falcon is only awarded to healers who were trained by these six healers or by Joren himself and is a highly respected honor.

Of all Cyra’s visible battle scars, perhaps one of the most mysterious is the one running from the far corner of her left eye down her cheek to her jawline. No one seems to know exactly how Cyra got this scar and Cyra has never explained it. It is commonly referred to as “the Queen’s tear” and numerous stories – both realistic and fanciful – have been told to explain how it came to be.