Old and new, Mankind and Gods, again they both shall speak;
Names be named, lands confirmed, repentances two seek.
Eight and mates shall pave the way, shall build the holy hall.
Eight more and mates shall guard the world, to save or ruin all.
By eight who are kin, by six familiar, one runaway, one unknown,
By mates and friends, by guides and aides, by outworlder on throne.
Gone, all gone, the synod gone, brought back by exiled might;
By second try, the fiends must die, uncovered by the blight.
In dark and day shall living and dead assemble each worthy soul,
For each represents, to beg and assert, the world then remade whole.
Through dark and life, by ship and spell, by first, then second light.
Destroy the false, which spurs the lie, but for this world shall fight.
By one who will stay, and one to betray, and third who shall turn away;
Gone, all gone, but synod’s pawns shall come again one day.
With the last line recited, Saleria sat back on her heels, brow creased in puzzlement. She looked at the Darkhanan kneeling across from her on the other side of the open chest. “This thing speaks of the Convocation of the Gods? Are you sure of that?”
“Yes,” Aradin said. Reaching over the chest, he tapped the parchment “There are several lines that confirm it. ‘Synod’ is an ancient Fortunai word for when all the clergy, all the priests and Holy Orders, get together to discuss holy writ and holy law. Such things are—or were—done at the Convocations. The third line of the first verse speaks of Gods and Man both speaking, again an image of the Convocation. There is a ‘holy hall’ in the first line of the second verse, and an assembly of worthy souls in the third line of the third verse, both of which are signature elements of a Convocation, plus a true representative of each nation’s religious needs . . . which is covered in the second line of the second verse.
“We can tell that Darkhanan Witch-craft is involved, because it speaks of ‘dark and day’ and ‘living and dead’ which we interpret to mean the Hosts and Guides who navigate the Dark, the means by which we will assist the true representatives of each nation to attend the Convocation when it is time for it to begin. Plus one or two other signs we already knew about,” he added dismissively. “Or at least have had time to question the Dark about.”
“Question the Dark,” she repeated, skeptical.
“Yes. Remember, we can only ask questions and receive a true answer for things that are happening, or have already happened. Our best Witch has been questioning the Dark about this and other prophecies for a very long time. The ‘exiled might’ and the ‘eight who are kin’ have finally come into play, which usually means the rest of the prophecy is also due to come true,” Aradin told her. “You have no idea just how long our Order has been working on getting the Convocation of Gods and Man reinstated. Generations’ worth—basically since right after the Shattering ended the last one. We are very committed to seeing that all aspects of its reinstatement go smoothly.”
He didn’t say more than that. It was enough that he could tell from her softened frown that she was considering the truth of his words, paired with the truth of the scroll. Well, their words, technically. It was actually Teral who had worked the hardest on paying attention to this task, not him, but then Teral had heard about it long before his death by fallen tree. Aradin himself hadn’t cared, and would have continued not caring, if he hadn’t met the subjects of the “repentances two seek” part. Meeting a pair in as desperate straits as those two could change anyone’s mind.
(Best not to talk about it, though,) Teral murmured, following his Host’s thoughts. (Most people just don’t understand, and it takes too long to explain.)
(Why do you think I’m leaving it out?) Aradin shot back.
Lowering the scroll to her lap, Saleria shook her head, blonde curls sliding over her white-clad shoulders. “It’s rather strange . . .”
“What is?” Aradin asked. Since she seemed done with the scroll, he reached across the chest to take it.
She handed it back with a shrug. “When I was in my teens, I had a . . . a revelation that I was meant to serve the Gods. Life-changing. But if this scroll of yours is a true prophecy, and you think I am destined to be a ‘worthy soul’ sent to represent my people at the next Convocation . . . I’d think I should feel like I was part of a prophecy. But it’s a different feeling from my moment of revelation. This does feel important, like there is something there, but . . . it’s not life-changing.”
That made him smile wryly. “Not all revelations are life-changing. And not all life-changes are revelations.” Closing the lid, Aradin caught her hand and gently squeezed it. “Now I’m not saying you are the absolute perfect choice for being the Katani representative at the next Convocation of the Gods . . . mainly because neither I nor Teral have asked the Dark yet if you will be . . . but from everything we’ve heard about you on our way here, and after speaking with you, I’d like to think you have that potential.