ISLAND OF THE BIRDS

By A.M. Arktos

Brother Eleph could feel the sea-mist soaking his thick brown hair. The hood of his cloak was down and

he stood, hands grasped tightly on the railing near the bow of the small fishing boat that he was a passenger on.

He could feel the boat bobbing up and down as it moved gradually through the gray waters of the Outer Ocean,

only a tiny sliver of land visible far behind them. He took a deep and hearty breath, letting the salty air fill his

lungs; cool, refreshing, invigorating. He let it all out as he observed his surroundings. Behind where he stood,

Captain Marus and his two teenage sons were busy working the shiptending to the sails, tying off ropes, or

making sure the large torch near the bow stayed dry. Eleph himself was content to observe the sea; he had had

enough conversation during the start of their journey and had told himself that he would manage at least some

moments of solid reflection before his true work began.

For nearly two hours, the waves had been placid, lapping gently against the sides of the boat as the gray

ocean bobbed serenely around them. Now Brother Eleph could feel the wind picking up; a light but chilling

breeze spraying across his cheek as the waters crashed against the side of the boat. Still, it was no storm, and

neither captain Marus nor his two sons seemed to notice anything amiss. Eleph figured they were likely better

judges of the sea than he, who had grown up in a land-bound farming community.

Thus, he continued to remain above deck, his cold hands grasping onto the ships wooden railing as he

felt the boat bobbing up and down, drifting slowly through the cool waters off the Eastern Seaboard. They had

told him that this journey would be brief; Jaelug Isle stood only a few hours journey from the mainland; and

besides, Eleph liked the sea, despite a slight unease he still felt while on a ship. To be sure, there was a certain

subtle terror in all the vastness around him; the open ocean, no land in sight, below him an immense oceanic

depth that could hide anything. Yet with that sort of terror, at least for Brother Eleph, came a fascination. The

way to deal with fears, said the teachings of his order, was to face them and observe them. When he first saw it

at fifteen years old, he had feared the sea; had feared the endless vastness of it all, the mystery of it, the terror of

squamous and unseen beings lurking below the waves. As a man he had learned to look at that fear from a

detached perspective; to observe it, to know it, to separate it from himself and know that it was but an

experience, not the core of his being. So he kept his eyes fixated on the waves; watching as they formed their

continuous patterns across the oceans surface, observing the briny foam as it gathered across the ships hull,

and smelling the salty waters as they sprayed up in the ships wake. It was a kind of mediation, as anything

could be.

Soon he saw what must have been the isle, visible as a dark gray rock jutting out from the still waters of

the endless sea. The boat drew onward and Brother Eleph remained near the prow, grasping his railing and

staring intently at his destination while it gradually grew larger and larger over the course of about an hour and

a half. One of the first things he noticed were the birds: masses of both white and black forms, gliding and

darting about the isle, or nesting within the nooks of its stone. Even from this distance he could see them as a

swarm, like the bees in the hives at Saint Mandors, where he had been stationed a year ago. Eleph had never

seen so many birds, in truth, and in a way it almost disturbed himthe sheer mass of the things, their clustered

and hectic behavior as they swooped down into the ocean to fight over meals or nested among the hole-covered

rocks like so many boring insects. Their constant cawing and screeching became a regular thing as he drew

closer to the isle, and he wondered if he would ever get used to it during his stay here. Soon the details of the

isle came into view; the jagged and irregular shaped rock that it was, rising up in successive levels out of the

cool gray ocean, its stones covered in patches of moss or lichen, in greens, reds and even purples; its sooty

black earth host to sporadic patches of surprising white flowers that broke up the scenes bleakness. It was

practically split down the middle by a cliff-lined pit: a bowl-shaped depression where the waters gathered,

churned and dashed against the cliffs. Fog wreathed the isles lower reaches, cloaking it in white garments that

swirled about the shores as the waves crashed in and out. From above the fog, he could see parts of the

monastery; a dull gray stone that was slightly lighter than the isles rock. The residencesunimaginatively built

rectangular buildingsstood closer to the stony shore, the mists partially obscuring the cloaked figures of

clergy moving about. Up above, perched like a bird itself atop the rock, stood the chapel; equally bleak and

uninviting, save for a few delicate pillars and adornments.

Within moments, the boat was deep inside of that fog, and for the next twenty minutes, all was a haze to

Elephs sight, as his vision became nothing more than the view of the waves just a few feet from the boat. As

the fog enclosed them, Eleph could hear the hundreds of birds above, squawking and yelping while diving for

their morning meal through the haze. Occasionally one of their dark forms would pass overhead, from over the

fog.

Left to his own thoughts as the fog enshrouded the vessel, Brother Eleph could not help but wonder why

they were sending him to Jaelug Isle, a barren island off the Eastern Seaboard, once called the Isle of Birds

after the only creature that dwelt upon it. Was this a den of corruption? This isolated little rock, bereft of outside

contact? The rock was so barren, he had been told, that the brothers and sisters had to rely on boats to supply

them with food. He pushed back his coarse brown hair, wiping away some condensation. The monastery had

been built here specifically because of its isolation. Mostly populated by adherents to Saint Caudila, the monks

here were asceticsthey who swore off all worldly pleasures in order to more fully embrace the Virtue of

Moderation. By all common understanding, such men and women should be the least prone to temptation or

madness. But Brother Eleph had long ago learned that common understanding was usually the grossest of

ignorance. After all, it was in the deepest isolation that a mans mind could wander to all sorts of mad topics

that would not normally intrude upon the thoughts of the busy and the social. Left to his own notions, bereft of

companionship and conversation, dark and devious concepts could easily intrude upon his mind. A lonely man

might readily fall to the temptation of lust, and in his deprived mind, ordinary fantasies might quickly become

diabolical perversions.

Such were the teachings of the Lakkisites: a holy order within the United Church named for Saint

Lakkis. Following the sacred Virtue of Reason, their purpose was a dual one: first, to seek knowledge of holy

things, and also to watch the minds of their fellow Churchmen to keep them on the correct course; thus their

role as internal investigators for the rest of the Church. They were called the Observers, for their role was to

watch both the actions and thoughts of their fellows. Eleph himself had only been a full Observer for two years,

since his twenty-eighth year. Since that time, his most strenuous assignments had involved investigating local

scandals; a priest suspected of adultery, a holy knight overstepping his authority, or even certain cases of clergy

possessing banned books. His assignment here was a tad more serious in nature, if also more ambiguous.

Eleph took a deep breath in and then exhaled out, mentally sending away any thoughts of prejudgment

for these monastics. He was no Red Priest, after all; he had pledged to temper his faith with reason. Any

judgment would be cast after the investigation, not before; and his role was to gather facts, not proclaim guilt.

All the facts he knew so far were hearsay, other than the simple fact of three individuals falling from the cliffs.

The latest, Brother Morsi, had died over a month ago, his body plunging into the cold waters just below the

cliffs of the isles bowl. Normally such a thing would be passed off as an accident, he surmised; even from this

distance the cliffs looked steep, and on an obscured day it would not be unheard of for a man to slip and fall to

his death. Yet there had been two other similar deaths over the past year, a rare occurrence even in such a

hazardous locale. His superiors had been unclear as to what they actually suspected. Was it a murderer? Some

sort of suicide pact? Perhaps the only supporting evidence was the words of a visiting abbess from two months

back, who had come back reporting a most definite strangeness to the monks here, particularly Brother Morsi.

Lustful glances, leering glares, and what to her seemed like a strange kind of disconnectedness in their attitudes.

In truth, to Eleph it did not seem enough to go on; not nearly enough to launch an investigation. Abbess Hasila

was certainly respected: the head of a flourishing nunnery just outside of Coridine itself, which is why, he

supposed, her letter had received any reception at all.

Well, he supposed, thats why they sent me and not a red-robed Savorite with a platoon of soldiers.

Elephs mission was to be subtle: an investigation. He was to keep as low a profile as possible. For this short

week, he was but a simple monk from Beladren, seeking a respite and time of meditation. The Savorites

commonly referred to as the Red Priests for the color of their clothingwhere a far more martial wing of the

Church than Elephs own Lakkisites, and known for their heavy-handed judgment and often lethal tactics. Eleph

had seen and worked with a few of the Reds; bald-headed eunuchs who seemed single-minded in their desire to

root out corruption, and would not hesitate to bring violence to those who stood against them or the Churchs

ideals.

Eleph was pulled from his thoughts by the sudden appearance of land from the fog; only a few yards

away, they had already come to the stone pier that marked the landing site for Jaelug. The boat hit the pier with

a thud, and soon the captain and his sons were off to tie it to the mooring post and inform the isle of their

arrival. Eleph took his satchel in hand and pulled the hood of his gray cloak up. The fog was still present, but

thinner here on shore. Less than ten yards away, nestled beneath an overhanging moss-covered rock, stood a

hunched wooden shack with peeling white paint and a single shuttered window. Beyond, a twisting pathway led

further up into the rest of the small isle, precariously positioned along the edges of the bowl-shaped depression

that nearly bisected the little island. All around, the birds still lingered, squawking and jeering, flittering up into

their nests as Eleph and the captain moved to the shack. Some of the thingsmostly gulls, but a few of them

curiously colored puffin birdslooked down at them with a mix of interest and mockery as they passed.

A figure emerged from the lonely homes doorway; a fellow that must have been the islands caretaker

or ship-master. He was a grim-faced man with lines on his face that brought to mind one of the dried-up

riverbeds down in the Feltemar Deserts. Wrapped in a tattered old coat, his left hand grasping a lit lantern for

the fog, the old fellow grunted, nodded to Eleph and pointed to the pathway that led up and around the bowl

depression. The caretaker said not a word, but began to shuffle toward the path, his right arm holding onto a

rusted-over harpoon like the sort he had seen on the fishing ship, clearly now used as a walking stick.

So he followed the wrinkly-faced caretaker as the man hobbled up the trail, a rocky overhang to their

right, sprawling with red moss and dotted with puffin nests. Less than two feet to their left, the path ended in

sheer cliff. He could see fifty feet below, into the great churning bowl at the isles center; the dark gray water

foaming around algae-covered rocks that sometimes jutted up out of the sea. This, he realized as he looked

down, must have been the spot; two Brothers and a Sister had fallen to their deaths on these cliffs, all within the

year. His stomach tightened as he felt himself instinctively wanting to NOT look down. Eleph suppressed the

vertigo with a well-trained thought. He could feel an increased wetness on his face now, the crashing waves

below creating a misty vapor that floated up. The rocks felt slippery at points, though the old caretaker barely

seemed to notice. Eleph caught himself taking a few cautionary glances at the man. Out here, it would have

been so easy for a man to push another man to his death. Just one surprise shove and a fellow would plummet

fifty feet, his body breaking on the rocks below. If he survived the fall, he would drown, his limbs likely

broken, his corpse pulled below by the constant movement of the waters.

Eleph considered such grim notions as he followed quietly along, his hood pulled forward, not saying a

word to the deathly caretaker who plodded silently along, bearing his lantern like a sea-ghost from a story. He

let himself absorb his thoughts, to take in his observations and process them without concluding a thing. Such

was his training; such was his role. Eleph pushed away thoughts of panic or fear, and took in what he could: his

eyes noted a scrap of black cloth, hanging from a rock some twenty feet below. From Brother Morsis robes? It

was too far to tell, and venturing down the cliff-side in this weather would be impractical, if not straight-out

suicidal. For later, he noted. They walked onward, following the lip of the cliff as it traversed the great bowl in

a semi-circle.

A few minutes later, they found themselves on more certain ground. A bit higher than the dock where he

had landed, now, he realized. Their traverse up the bowls side had taken them about twenty feet higher. They

were now at the residences he had spied from the boat. Figures in coarse brown robes moved about the area; the

men and women of the monastery, their forms obscured by their clothes and the fog as they went about their

business, seemingly oblivious to his arrival.

Eleph began the climb up the winding stone stairway that was carved from the rock of the island and

twisted its way through the dark rocks, providing him an ever lofty view of the sea below while puffins and

seagulls continued to circle overhead, their cacophonies echoing off the solid stone around him. Minutes later

he passed what must have been the womens living quarters; a smaller and yet somewhat newer looking section.

Finally, he came to the topmost part of the island; the solid chapel, black stone brick and a gabled wood roof.

The chapel was only a hand more decorated than the simple dwellings below, its entrance presided over by two

statues: one a carving of Michaleus the Liberator himself, the god-man holding his hands clasped together, his

traditional twin swords sheathed at his hips. The other statue was slightly smaller, depicting a thin woman with

a sallow face and lowered head: Saint Caudila, Eleph knew, patroness of the monastery. Through a tinted

window he could detect the faint flickering of candlelight. Not hesitating a moment, he pushed open the heavy

oak doors and stepped inside.

The chapel was lit by flickering lights from eight candelabras. The main room was a roughly square

chamber, the crumbly brick walls plastered white. Elephs eyes were drawn to the faded tapestry on the right

walla five-color woven piece depicting the Seven Prime SaintsBeleves, Jamascia, Caudila, Lunadro,

Jusnarian, Lakkis and Savoreseach said to embody one of Michaleus Seven Virtues, and all standing side-

by-side in front of rolling green hills and pasture land. At the far end of the chapel stood an alcove with a simple

wood altar that held a chalice, where the morning and evening offerings to the God would be burned. Between

Eleph and the altar, two rows of four wooden benches sat for the supplicants, though at the moment he was the

only person in the room.

Greetings! he said at a slightly louder than talking voice. Father Jaynus? Elephs eyes waited on the

closed door to the right of the altar, which opened mere moments later. A sleepy looking fellow shuffled

through, clothed in white with a violet-colored stole across his shoulders. Closing the door behind him, the man

slowly moved over to Eleph and lowered his head for a moment.

With only a half-circle of hair remaining on his head, the man who must have been Father Jaynus was

almost entirely bald, and Eleph couldnt help but notice his pale skin appearing almost gray in the dim

flickering light of the chapel. He looked up at the taller Eleph with sleepy eyes.

Ah, the visitor, he stated, his right hand making the customary M-shaped star in the air in front of him.

Brother Eleph.

Indeed, Father Jaynus, if that is who I am speaking with?

The older man nodded absently.

I take it the parish in Beladren sent appropriate notice of my arrival, then.

Again, the priest nodded, barely looking at him.

Then, I shall get to the point, Father, he continued. As you have been informed, I am here

investigating the death of Brother Morsi, who recently served under you at the monastery. Nobody here is under

any suspicion at the moment, and there is no need to worry. We are all servants of the Liberator, and I am

merely here to make sure all is well. Eleph did his best to smile. He still felt he had a hard time with this part

of the work: the people part.

Father Jaynus seemed not to notice, at least. The ageing priest merely nodded again and looked to his

right, just over Elephs shoulder, as if staring transfixed at some mystical aura.

Father? Is everything well?

Ohohyes, answered Jaynus, shaking his head as if waking from a dream. II understand that

you will be doing some.some investigation here. As an agent of our holy Church, you are, of course,

permitted full use of our facilities. You have free reign of the grounds, provided you keep the peace, and may

partake in our twice-daily meals

Father, interrupted Eleph, I feel it is best if I spoke with you about the matter beforehand, as I will be

maintaining an inconspicuous presence among the general monastics. I shall get to the point. Did you observe

anything unusual about Brother Morsi before hishis fall?

Oh, that. Jaynus shook his head. No, nothing at all. I suppose he had been bit distant, but it is hardly

considered unusual for a monk to prefer his solitude. I am still of the belief that what occurred to our brother

was a sad accident.

And tell me, how did events that day play out? When was his body discovered, how and by whom?

I the priest looked to the left, to where a candelabrum was steadily burning away, its light

illuminating his thin, pale-skinned features. He began to speak some more, but trailed off into a fit of muttering.

I dont recall all of the specifics, the priest finally said, again looking at Eleph. As the clergyman in charge

of this monastery, I find myself overburdened by such details. Alas, I was not there to witness the event.

And what of the other deaths this past year? asked Eleph, his voice tightening. Sister Arvina, Brother

Yoselus? According to my reports, both fell to their deaths at various points along the same cliffs.

Again, Jaynus seemed to wait a moment to respond. Was he contemplating a lie?

Well, Jaynus said, finally. The cliffs can indeed be treacherous, particularly as it draws closer to the

winter months. Our isle is blessed by the Liberator for its solitude and beauty, though with that comes inherent

dangers.

I see, said Eleph, flatly. As for these others; did either of them exhibit any signs of depression or

melancholy?

The old priest shook his head in denial.

Also, I must ask if any of the deceased displayed any unusual amount of sexual behavior? Did any of

them appear outwardly promiscuous, flirtatious or romantically aggressive with others?

No, not at all, said the priest, still distant in his tone. Eleph would have expected that question to rile

him up a bit more, but he remained as placid as ever. Please, continued Jaynus. Like I said, I am rather busy

with matters of delegation, as well as my own personal prayers. I allow the monastics to manage their own

lives, and tend to my own business when I may. I assure you, I am not a man to keep track of mundane details

such as those you speak of.

Eleph looked straight at the priest, who was still not meeting his gaze. What was this mans ploy? Was

he attempting to hide something, or merely a fool?

Very well, Father. With whom may I speak to for more information?

Brother Cardon knows more than I, said Jaynus. He is our records-keeper at the monastery, and

maintains such details.

I see.

Yes. You will be able to find him in our library room on the morrow. Sister Myla will be bringing your

morning meals. Shell be able to direct you to him at your pleasure.

Thank you, Father, said Eleph, neutrally.

Indeed, said Jaynus, nodding. I am sure, Liberator willing, that you will solve this matter with much

haste. Now, he said, once more glancing at the ever-so-entrancing candelabra. Is there more I can do for your,

Brother?

No, Father, answered Eleph, wondering just why this man was being so unhelpful, I observe that

there is not.

Well then, said the priest, turning fully away from Eleph. May the Liberator clothe you in light, and

may your work flow unobstructed.

***

Eleph believed it to be late afternoon by the time he had become situated to the monastery layout and

had been shown his room. Still the fog was ever-present, and Eleph watched from his window as it drifted down

the gravel paths of the isle, rolling over rocks, shrubs and the humble gardens outside of the living quarters,

where the residents grew an assortment of root vegetables. In the hours until supper, he spent his time inscribing

a few notes into the onion-leaf notebook that he kept tucked into his satchel. The notes were sparse at besta

few peoples names, a general sketch of the isles layout. Eleph had precious little to go on just yet, and as of

this moment there still remained the distinct possibility that his endeavor here would prove pointless. Already

he worked by candlelight, as the fog blocked out a good portion of the sun. His chamber was as he expected: a

simple room with a cloth cot in one corner and a straw-covered brick floor, affording him enough room to lay

down, with a foots extra length. At one end, a crude shrine to Michaleus was set into the wall; the Liberators

indistinct image molded from clay and colored with two types of ochre. The chamber smelled of wet earth.

Humble, for certain; but it would serve his purposes. In many ways, Eleph was glad for it. Certainly, an

assignment to a wealthy parish would have granted him finer luxuries, but this was good. Simplicity would help

him focus, keep him away from distractions.

As the clouded-over sky grew darker, he spied a figure behind the crack in his door. Opening it up he

saw that it was one of the sisters; Myla, most likelythe one who Jaynus had said would bring him his meals.

She was young for the clergy; probably no older than seventeen years. She peered up at him from behind her

gray livery, revealing a moon-shaped face, two handfuls of freckles and a hint of carrot-colored hair. The girl

carried a wooden tray that held a bowl of steaming broth and half a loaf of thick brown bread.

Thank you, Sister, he said with a smile. You may place the tray next to my cot.

Myla stared at him for a moment, as if transfixed, then quickly placed the tray down and turned around

to leave. He noticed her glancing back for an instant, as if to say something more to him, then just as quickly

she turned back to her duties and walked around the corner.

Eleph closed the door that the Sister had entirely forgotten about, then took the bowl and placed it onto

his lap. Curious behavior, he noted. Shyness would have been his first guess about the Sister. The girl was still

young, and would have little contact with the outside world. Perhaps she fancied him, though Eleph knew that

most adherents to Saint Caudila took vows of chastity. Shyness; probably. Yet the probable answer was not

always the actual one. He made a note of that, and put the bowl to his lips. It was fish broth; salty and not

pleasant, but nourishing enough.

By the time he was done with his meal, and had taken a handful of notes, Eleph was feeling the

drowsiness of the day settling down upon him. Already the sun was beginning to set, and long shadows were

stretching out over Jaelug Isle. Little sounds issued from the neighboring cells, and as he looked from his sole

window, only a few cloaked monks were still outside. As the darkness set over the monastery, more fog rolled

in, obscuring the moons pale light and cloaking the isle in darkness. The loud cries of the birds died down,

giving way to the ever-present and steady crash of the oceans waves. Eleph said a short prayer and put out his

candle, letting the blackness spread around him as the melody of the waves gradually put him to sleep.

***

Eleph awoke to diluted sunlight spilling onto him from the sole window in his room, along with a faint

but chilling breeze that snuck in through the curtain. The remnants of dreams lingered in his mind, quickly

leaving him like water from a cracked pitcher. Yes, water. He reached over to where his notebook lay, atop his

satchel next to bed, quickly noting with his leaden pencil what he could recall from those dreams. They had

been liquid in nature. Water. Swimming; swimming through a vast and endless sea. Warmth all around him; but

not comforting. The sort of warmth that bred life; slimy, crawling, teeming life. For a moment, he could almost

feel tendrils slithering across his skin. Eleph shook the feeling, but noted it in his book. Despite his revulsion,

perhaps even related to it, he realized that his body was aroused, a strong bulge still present beneath the

underclothes he had slept in. His thoughts naturally went to the girl, to Sister Myla; to her shy demeanor and

that curious look she had thrown at him. A part of him wondered what she looked like beneath the livery; young

and supple and plump. Eleph shook off such thoughts as he took on more of his waking mind-state.

Liberator guide me and focus my intent, he thought in a silent prayer. All such thoughts and notions

were ordinary; expected things. He was no Savorian Eunuch, but a man in his prime. Saint Lakkis himself had

said that It is not a mans thoughts which harm him, but rather the actions caused by those thoughts. I am not

my thoughts, they are but a tool, Eleph told himself as he began his normal morning prayer and focusing

meditation. Even those dreams were ordinary; perhaps a result of spending too much time on a boat the

previous day, or inspired by the fact that he was, indeed, surrounded by water.

That day he made a concerted effort to mingle among the monastics. For breakfast he went to the

common room that stood in the middle of the living quarters, in a large rectangular building nestled between the

dormitories. Inside, it was oddly quiet for a common roomthough he saw that thirteen of the residents were

already there, seated at two long wooden tables. Nobody raised an eye when Eleph walked in, all keeping their

gazes locked onto their lumpy brown porridge as they shoveled it into their mouths with wooden spoons. Not a

word was said as he made his way to the serving counter, where a bone-thin old sister stood, a dirty apron over

her livery, her hands clasped around the serving ladle like she was wielding a sword. The old crone was as silent

as the others as he approached with bowl in hand. Eleph tried a half-smile and a nod of his head at her, but the

ancient sister simply plopped a ladle full of plaster-shaded porridge into his bowl and gave him not a glance.

Shrugging, Eleph walked over to one of the tables and sat between two monks, a plain-faced sister

opposite him.

Good morning and God bless, all, he stated, finding that it came out more like a question than a

statement.

The nun looked up, a glazed-over look in her eyes, but said nothing. The brother to his right issued forth

a mumbled response, but didnt even look Elephs way. Eleph placed his bowl to the table and the spoon to his

mouth. The porridge was likely one of the blandest things he had ever tasted; though a moment after

swallowing it he noticed an unpleasantly fishy aftertaste to it, as if the cook had boiled it in the same pot as last

nights dinner. Still, he lowered his head in thanks to the Liberator. Over the course of the next uncomfortable

forty minutes, Eleph attempted to make conversation with the people around him, though the most he got out of

any of them were grunts and automatic responses. They seemed not to speak to one another either, and for a

moment he wondered if Jaelugs monastery had a vow of silence in place that he was not aware of. Where these

people drugged? Under a kind of mental influence?

After his fifth attempt at conversation ended in him being stonewalled by stares and mutterings, Eleph

gave up. Quickly swallowing down the rest of his porridge, he dropped his bowl and spoon in a tub next to the

kitchen and made his way out of the hall and back to the chilled environs of outside, where he was greeted with

a cloudy sky and Jaelugs usually oppressive atmosphere. Eleph realized that he was starting to feel frustrated,

like everyone but him was in on some private joke and nobody would interact with him for fear of giving it up.

This island was getting to him too: its constant nasty weather, its gloomy environs, and always those birds. He

saw two puffins perched on the rooftop of the common building as he exited. One of them squawked at him and

a part of Eleph wished for nothing more than to take out a rock and crush the thing. He took a deep breath and

focused inward, on his mediation; on the prayer of Saint Lakkis. Observing his surroundings, he let out all of his

frustration and began to walk away, towards his room. There was still work to do.

Leaving the living area, Eleph began walking the island grounds. This day, the fog had grown less

dense, affording him an increased sight of the isle, with its dozens of gray stone outcroppings where birds

nested in every little nook; where ancient stone stairs were chiseled out of the earth and wound their way from

the chapel on the highest elevation to the womens residences on the middle level and the mens on the lower

level, and then finally to the cliff-side pathway that ringed the great bowl and ended in the lone dock and the

caretakers hut. He spent the better part of two hours walking the grounds; casually strolling by and waving at

the occasional cloaked figure of a monastic about their daily routine. A few waved back, though most seemed

content to keep their hoods low, seeming to either overlook or ignore his presence. He examined more closely

their communal gardena sparse bed of root vegetables and hard-leafed lettucewhich grew just outside of

the second-tier dorms he was housed in. Eleph then made his way back up to the chapel itself, and spent a

moment observing the twenty-or-so residents gathered for a group chanting; a ponderous hymn to Michaleus

that praised the Living Gods prowess in battle against the Old Pantheon, sung in a deep baritone that seemed

somehow off-key to Eleph, who was used to hearing the hymn in a more upbeat style. From there, he stepped

twenty paces from the chapel to where the isles graveyard was; a collection of forty-five tombstones, from

more recent additions to some weathered markers dating back nearly five hundred years. This brought up in his

mind the curious fact of this monasterys age, and how it had been established very close to the Churchs rise in

power, back when the disaster at Nenkal was fresh in mens minds and the corrupt old religion was starting to

fade. Eleph briefly pondered as to what ancient things might lie buried here; but set his mind to more recent

affairs. The graves of the three killed this year were strangely small; only thin posts struck into the ground, each

bearing one of the decedents names. His eyes were naturally drawn to the ground near each of them, where he

noticed that the earth had not been recently dug. Another curious fact. Where had the bodies gone if not into the

ground? Another question for Brother Cardon, for when Eleph had a chance to visit the man.

He took a breather after he examined the last of the graves. Now the fog was nearly gone. From his

vantage at the graveyard, which stood on a high point and overlooked much of the bleak isle, Eleph could see

that Jaelug was a bit more than merely the church lands, if not enough ground for village, field or flock. Still,

amid the boulder-strewn vistas and maze-work of rock he spied some stones that displayed a most fascinating

angle to them, as if they had not been formed by natures hand alone. The stones weren't far: on the southern

side of the isle; just over some boulders near the lower residences. The off-trail areas, as far as he could tell,

featured moss-covered boulders and rock that was likely volcanic in origin; at times being sharp enough to cut

an ungloved hand, and at other times crumbly and unreliable.

Nevertheless, Eleph began his walk around the grounds beyond the monastery, dashing down the steps

to the lower tiers and scrambling up the mossy boulders as best he could in his travelling cloak. He soon found

himself among overgrown land: a veritable labyrinth of lichen-covered boulders, squat shrubs and tiny withered

trees that pushed their way out of cracks in the stony ground and displayed only the barest hint of life. As he

made his way past the normal bounds of human travel here at Jaelug, the birds darted up and away, squawking

menacingly as Eleph skirted around their treasured nests and hunting grounds.

There he spied what must have been his goal. From here, the old wall looked barely discernible; a line of

semi-regular stones that had once been piled atop one another but now lay fallen upon the ground in a pattern

that was only recognizable as manmade from afar. But at the end of the wall; at the end of the wall was

something far more definite. It was a pillar, or rather, the bottom half of a pillar; its top uneven and covered in a

mass of vines. It was clear to Elephs eyes that it was not built by the same men who had put up any of the isles

current structures. Even in its weathered and crumbling state, it was clearly of a more delicate construction,

made from a stone that while similar to the isles own gray, had a subtle vein of blue set into it. Eleph took a

step closer, leaning onto his knees to get a better look.

While Brother Eleph had not studied much architecture, he was more than a bit of an antiquarian.

Immediately he could tell that the pillar was not modern; by its rounded corners and the lines on its curves, it

was clear to him that the pillar belonged in the old days of the Markenian Empire, from before that fated day

when the old capitals Holy Mountain had erupted and slain thousands, forever shifting the lives and beliefs of

its citizens.

He noticed too that the topmost part of the pillar that still remained was flat, and contained the remnant

of some sort of script; a fluid alphabet whose letters ended in sharp points. This was not Old Markenian; Eleph

knew that for certain: the old language was archaic but not foreign to the modern script. This was foreign, its

character bringing to mind alien traditions and strange ways. Eleph felt shivers running down the back of his

neck; shivers of fascination. For a moment, he knew it must all be connected; this old ruin, the deaths, the

strange behavior among the clergy here. Or at least, he admitted that he wanted it to be connected. Eleph took a

deep breath and stopped his line of thinking, calming himself with a simple mental prayer. It would not do, he

told himself, to jump to conclusions. He had learned years ago that he had a mind that tended to see patterns,

even when there were no such patterns to be found. Part of the Virtue of Reason was seeing your own habits

and accounting for them. Still, he would get to the bottom of this. First thing first, he needed to study those

symbols more. Charcoal and rubbing paper would do for that; perhaps the islands small library might contain

some.

By the time Eleph had finished inspecting the ruins, twilight was already descending over the isle, and

the shadows cast from the nearby boulders were growing longer and longer by the minute. He made his way

back to the living quarters and walked past the room where Jaynus had indicated Brother Cardon kept his small

library. The stone above the door was marked with the Old Markenian letter Ota, often used as a symbol of

knowledge. This was indeed the library, though Eleph noticed no lights on beneath the door, and his three

knocks yielded no answer. As it was already growing late, he decided to make a trip to the library on the

morrow.

***

Brother Eleph stood upon the cliffs edge, his thin frame propped up against a moss-covered boulder, his

thick brown hair blown back by the salt-scented winds. His eyes stared out at the slowly drifting waves,

watching as the last light of the days sun cast its glimmer onto the seemingly endless expanse of ocean that

surrounded the isle. He took a deep breath in and a deep breath out, each to the count of four heartbeats. Eleph

could feel the cool wind on his skin, the damp and salty air that seemed an ever-present thing on Jaelug Isle.

Below him, the sounds of ocean birds echoed across the rocks. He pushed back the hood of his thick woolen

cloak, but still kept his gaze focused on the waves and their constant rhythm. Now he needed focus.

Michaleus, he began his prayer, intoning the words in his mind. Grant me clarity. Liberator, Light-

bringer, shed your rays of illumination upon my minds eye. He closed his eyes, envisioning a clear image of a

golden grail, its sides inlaid with three purple gems. Within it burned a violet flame; the symbol of his God, the

one True God; He who had walked the world as the warrior-prophet Michaleus, he who had liberated humanity

from the oppression of the corrupt Old Gods and freed all from their lies. Eleph breathed in and out again, and

with the last out-breath he imagined all of his worries and fears falling into the cleansing violet flame within the

grail and burning away.

Two full days now, he had been here, on this desolate and dreary little isle; home to only a lonely

monastery and twelve thousand sea birds. Still, he had uncovered very little to aid him in his mission. The

monks and nuns were a closed-mouthed lot, almost uniform in their dismal and apathetic character. He was

little closer to solving the riddle of the deaths. Suicide? Murder? Simple accidents? It all seemed equally likely.

All he could say was that Jaelug was an odd place, and that there was a certain quiet dread in the locale; a dread

mixed with an equally silent and subtle beauty, both likely linked to its isolation.

The past few days had seemed to pass both slowly and with an amazing rapidity. Much of that time had

been spent shrouded in the encompassing fog that seemed to cling to the island, limiting vision to about ten feet,

except when the wind blew. The birds were a constant companion, to be certain; their regular chirping,

squawking, the ever-present white stains of their excrement and the sight of their ratty nests, sprawled all over

the island in every nook and cranny. The rains had fallen liberally on those two days, drenching the already wet

rocks in water and keeping the residents inside at most hours. Eleph knew he had spent too much time

dawdling, too many moments scribing in his notebook and casually exploring the grounds.

Now he needed focus. Now he needed purpose; direction. In a way he could imagine dead Brother

Morsis feelings, how the monk could have gone mad living in this desolate spot, the constant tedium of life

simply driving him to throw his body into the deep gray ocean to become food for fish. Eleph again

concentrated on his prayer, once more pushing away such morose thoughts. He was not a depressed man, not

normally; but his time at Jaelug seemed to bring out such spirits. There was certainly a melancholy here. His

logical training said it was likely due to the weather; the lack of sunlight. That was the logical answer, but deep

in his heart he could feel something more; a silent malice here, lurking just below the surface.

None of that was the sort of information he could supply to his superiors in the order. He needed true

and provable facts. The ruins today had been a start. That was something; something to at least point him in a

direction: but not enough. Tomorrow, he affirmed, he would find Cardon and his library, and get his facts. As

he took one last look out at the ocean, he saw that storm-clouds were once again gathering above, drifting down

upon the eastern winds. Their dark masses were already obscuring the moons silvery light. Rain again, he

surmised, glad it was only rain and not snow, which would likely starting falling in the north during Tebral, a

few months away.

Eleph began to feel the first droplets, cold against his cheeks and exposed hair. In less than a minute he

was back inside his darkening cell, preparing to light the lone candle he kept by his bedside. By then he could

hear the waters falling regularly, making a tittering sound as they splattered down on the rough flagstones

outside.

It was not long before Sister Myla came with tonights supper; a thick and milky chowder of fish that

seemed to resemble that mornings breakfast, albeit with somewhat altered ingredients. Though her hood was

up, the girl looked soaked, the food only protected from the wetness by a cover that had been on the tray. Again,

Myla looked like she was about to say something to him as she put the food tray down next to his cot. He

looked at her and motioned for her to speak, but she once more turned away shyly and walked straight out, into

the cool rain.

Hold a moment, he said, stepping out after her.

The rain was falling in sheets now, pushed nearly sideways by a howling wind that wrenched across the

isles surface. He could see Myla a few paces away, quickening her stride as she made for the higher ground of

the womens quarters. He increased his own pace, easily catching up to the shorter sister despite the rains

catapulting his face.

Stop! he shouted, his voice barely audible over the cacophonous howl. He grabbed her shoulder and

Myla spun to meet him, looking as startled as a doe in a hunters sights.

Eleph gently pulled her into a nearby doorway, at least half-way shielded from the storm.

Twice, it seems you wished to speak with me, but twice you delayed. I suggest you tell me whatever

has been troubling you, before we both become far too busy for it, he said.

The girl shuddered, her small body shaking under her livery, only partially from the rain.

Come now, he added, I wish you no harm.

Eleph took Mylas arm and led her back to his cell. They were both dripping wet by then, their heavy

clothing looking like they had taken a plunge into the ocean.

B-brother, she began, looking up at him from between waterlogged strands of hair, D-did you come

here to have us taken away. Punished?

He looked down at her and shook his head. No, he said, taking a gentler tone than he often used. I am

merely here to find out what happened to those people: the ones who fell from the cliffs.

Butbut youre an Observer, arent you? Yes, theythey only send you out if things are going wrong,

and, well She trailed off and looked away.

Well, he began, Are they going wrong?

I only came here a bit over a month ago, at the end of Hadrel. But already I feelwell, troubled.

What do you mean by troubled?

My thoughts; they dont feel like my own. I feel so tired at times, though I know Ive gotten enough

sleepbut not tired, exactly, but more likelike a lonely kind of boredom, as if theres nothing I want to do in

all the world and like Im all alone. Every night I have these dreams; dreams I know must be terrible. I wake

feeling shivery and dirty, but I cant seem to remember a bit of them. Then the days begin andwell, I told you

already. I was always a happy girl back home, but here its as if the Fallen One himself is trying to bring my

spirits down.

Have you spoken to any of the others about this? Father Jaynus? Eleph already knew the answer.

Yes; and they ignored me. Father Jaynus seemed to think it was only the weather making me feel so.

Youve seen the others; all so distant, so unfriendly. I fear that something terrible is happening here.

Yet you cannot fully define it, I presume?

She nodded.

Hmm, he continued, A general moroseness, then; a kind of creeping ennui that seems to lurk in the

background, subtly affecting the moods and thoughts of those around itmost curious.

Excuse me, brother?

Merely muttering to myself, I suppose. Pay no heed to it. He gave a half-smile.

Anyway, continued Eleph, you have only been on the grounds for around a month, so presumably

you have not seen the worst of what has occurred here. Eleph paused to wring some water out of his robe. But

I suppose you might have known Brother Morsi?

Only a little, she said softly. Hethe Liberator took him only a week after I arrived here. II did

speak with the brother on one occasion. He seemed a quiet type at first; withdrawn, the sort more focused on his

own thoughts than on the world around him. We walked along seaside as we talkedmainly of our prayers,

about our faithbut as he stared out into the ocean he seemed to take on a most odd character. He spoke only in

vague terms, but told me that he would soon be returning home, that he was being called away. He looked out at

the waves, and I assumed him to be referring to a distant home on the mainland, or that he was being re-

assigned by the Beladren diocese. When he jumped, I. She trailed off, her eyes shifting away from Eleph

and to the shut-up window, where rain could be seen falling steadily.

So, you believe he willingly jumped?

I dont know, said Myla, still looking away. He didnt seem a sad man, exactly. He spoke so

distantly, it seemed, like his words werent even his own: like some demon had been speaking into his ears and

making him say those things.

You believe there to be a supernatural influence here?

Myla let out a light gasp and shook her head. No, she let out, I just.its not like that, itsI

meanI dont know what to say. Things have just been so odd here; with what happened to Brother Morsi, and

the way Ive been feeling lately. It all feels so unnatural, so strange, and yet I cant say where any of it is

coming from. Please, she continued, now looking at him, Were not heretics here or anything of the sort.

Dont send the Reds in, Brother. None of us have been praying to Chevultegon, or conjuring spirits, or doing

any other sinful things. Im sure its all just like Father Jaynus said; an accident

No, no, he said softly. I dont intend to do anything of the sort. Worry not, sister, Ive seen nothing to

indicate that the Order of Saint Savores should be sent to this place. Remain calm; Im merely looking into

things, and so far youve been a great help. He tried to put on his finest, fakest, smile. If anything, Ill send

the diocese a letter of commendation for you.

Myla returned his smile with one of her own, the tears ceasing to fall from her eyes as she let out a sigh.

For a moment, she just stood there in the cell and looked up at the taller Eleph. In the faint light of one candle,

her features looked so innocent, so young and inexperienced, like the child she wasnt far off from being. He

silently berated himself for his earlier lustful thoughts of her.

Eleph reached over and gently touched her shoulder, feeling the dampness of her rain-soaked livery.

All will be well, he told her. Whatever is transpiring here, sister, we will solve it.

Thank you, she said, reaching out and embracing him. Despite the wetness, her body felt warm against

his own, though he could feel her shaking beneath the besotted garments. Another burst of lust filled him, then;

a brief fantasy of having her remove those soaked garments; of drying off her young, supple, body and having

her spend the rest of the cold night in his quarters, away from the others, lying close together for warmth

through the night. Eleph severed that line of thoughta mere fantasy, after all, and one he knew he would never

allow. Myla was an innocent; it was his role to protect her, not prey upon her.

Well, he said, after a pause. I suppose it is time you get back to your own dormitory and begin trying

off. I would suggest you eat well, focus on your prayers and get some rest.

Yes, I suppose that would be best, she said, moving towards the door.

An hour after Myla was gone, Eleph was in bed, his mind filled with his evening prayer, his soaked robes

drying upon a hook in the wall. Sleep came harder for him this night, as he lay there, his body still shivering

from the cold and the wetness.

His dreams that night were different, nearing the point of lucidity at several moments. In them, he stood

upon the shores of Jaelug Isle; on a stony, flat beach he had never seen in his waking hours. He looked out at

the vast ocean, watching as the waters coursed and flowed around one another, his perspective gradually

spreading further and further into the sea, until land vanished from sight and only the churning waves of the

cold outer ocean filled his senses. He felt himself drawn down and down, into the gray waters and the half-lit

vastness below. Elephs mind could feel the cool waters surrounding him, could hear the distant echoing cries

of the sea-beasts and the alien whispers of beings whose flesh had never known warmth.

Here in the depths, he could hear their minds, could sense their inhuman desires throbbing all around

him, reaching to him and calling out to him. He did not see the things, but it did not matter. Their minds were

there; vast and alien things, their thoughts pulsating masses of hunger, fear and unknowable desire.

Elephs every instinct told him to open his eyes and wake up. He knew he could do it, could simply step

out of this dream and back into his bed. Yet he chose not to. With all his training present, he remained in the

moment, feeling the horrific presence scanning over him as waves of terror surrounded him. Images filled his

mind; sunken masses of squirming flesh and writhing sea-filth; cyclopean in proportion and unthinkable in their

putrescence, dotted with oversized anemones, tubes and other gelatinous monstrosities. He saw beings living

among this mass: things with vaguely anthropomorphic features that swam over the ocean floor with only

squirming tails where legs should have been and long tentacles in the place of arms. They had no mouths, but

only empty black eyes, pitiless and unconscious. They swarmed around their squamous cities of filth, massing

in the thousands, or perhaps millions, their numbers so great that they practically blocked out the sight of the

oceans bed below. From above, near the surface, something called to them, pulsing with that same unholy

thought-pattern and reaching out to those teeming masses of monstrosities that waited below. He could hear it in

his thoughts; a thrumming, continuous rhythm that called to them like a dinner bell. Down below, the thousands

of octopoid beings began to stir.

***

Eleph awoke with a start, his mouth dry and a slight ache between his temples. As he lay in his cot,

Elephs mind went over the fleeting images from the night before. It was all quickly spilling from his mind, like

water from a damaged bucket, so he reached for his pencil and journal and began to write what he could. Some

might call it madness, he observed; as fanciful as any sailors tales of octopoid men and unseen entities. Still,

Eleph did his best to note it all. Dreams, he knew, seldom made sense on the surface, though only fools

dismissed them.

Eleph had spent some time studying dreaming, during his seminary time at the Order of Saint Lakkis.

There were some among the priesthood that took dreams very seriously. Officially, the Church taught that

dreams could be a portal to the Divine. It was in the sleep state that mans lesser nature was suppressed and the

veils of consciousness were lowered. During certain dream states, they claimed, a man could receive messages

from supernatural sources; whether it was benevolent communication with Michaleus and his Saints, or

messages from the fallen Aeter, those dark spirits who had betrayed the One God and still existed. The second

option was generally thought to be the most common, sadly. Eleph had even observed a few trials where the

Savorians presented dreams as evidence that the accused was in contact with Chevultegon or one of the Fallen.

The Lakkisites were seldom so literal in their views, but could be even more obsessive about dreams, and had

put together exhaustive volumes for interpreting the symbols found within.

As to what symbols Eleph could pick out of his most recent dream, he was not certain. The depths of the

sea could easily be construed as a message to look below the surface and delve deeper into unseen matters.

Following the same school of thought, the creatures in the dream would represent repressed thoughts, desires or

unpleasant secrets. That explanation seemed simple enough, and could even point to Elephs own repressed

desires, which he was more aware of than most people. Still, it seemed incomplete, and the sheer vivid

grotesquerie of the dream could not be so easily dismissed.

Eleph shrugged, rubbing his temples to push away the remainder of the mild headache he had awoken

with. He would have plenty of time to think about the dream later. Today, he had to focus on his mission. He

pushed himself up out of the cot and took a swig of water from the half-full cup by his bedside. Eleph knew he

needed to plan his course of action, and do it efficiently if he was to get anything at all done here. He took

another gulp of water, leaned over his satchel and pulled out his notebook.

Eleph looked down at his notebook, his eyes scanning over the four pages of scrawl that seemed

haphazardly thrown aroundbundles of associated words grouped together, with arrows pointing between

various spots. His notes were a mess, in truth. During his seminary days at Coridine, Eleph had studied a bit of

cryptography, and fancied that it would take a rather decent cryptographer to actually figure out his notebook,

with its poor penmanship, hastily-scrawled symbols and intermixed doodles. These notes were only for his own

eyes; to help him gather his thoughts. Elegantly-worded letters would be prepared later, carefully detailing the

case for the benefit of his superiors.

For now he was intent on making something of this situation, or at least coming to an understanding of

it. Jaelug Isle was a riddle. On the surface, very little was happening here. The monastics were a nearly

inanimate bunch, barely talking even to one another, let alone Eleph. That in itself was a riddle. Eleph knew

monastic communities, having spent years in them himself. They were like small villages, but exaggerated.

Every person knew every other person. Try as they might to be holy and proper, it was an environment that felt

nearly incestuous at times, and was brimming with gossip and cliquishness. The arrival of an outsider like

himself into such close-knit community as Jaelug should have been stirring things up, and yet few seemed to

notice; either that or they were being evasive. Eleph had been trained to expect evasiveness at times. It was a

natural defense for those who felt an outsider was trying to intrude in their affairs. Father Jaynus might be doing

so; such would be the most logical excuse for his behavior, and also for the behavior of the unresponsive people

in the common room. Yet there was something more to it all; a general sluggishness to the lot of them, as if they

were not fully awake or aware of their surroundings. It seemed to have been growing steadily since his arrival.

Elephs notes on the people confirmed this. Usually he would have all sorts of arrows on his pages, linking one

person to another in possible friendships, infatuations and even affairs. Here it seemed like every person was an

island, as isolated as the physical island they all dwelt upon. It was as if there was something else; something

standing between them all, separating the brothers and sisters like some kind of mental fence. Only Sister Myla

had shown even the vaguest interest in his arrival.

A part of Eleph stirred up at the thought of the sister, barely in her womanhood; that part of him which

he had largely suppressed since joining the clergy in his late teenage years. He thought about the curves of her

body, so modestly hidden beneath the billowing livery she wore, her soft carrot-colored hair and moon-shaped

face. All too often he found himself thinking of women in this way. He supposed it was natural, considering

how much he had denied such urges in recent years. Oh, he had taken no oaths. Few among the Lakkisites did.

Only three of the seven main Orders in the church practiced any sort of celibacy, and his was not among them.

He could take a wife if he wished, it was within his rights. Yet Eleph found himself having so little time to even

consider such matters. He was always busy with his duties; studying the Churchs vast collections of lore or else

engaged in missions such as this one. He had spent so much time among books, clergy and academics that he

had barely an idea of what to do with a woman. How would he even approach one?

He forced away such thoughts, and looked back to his notes. He would have to speak with Myla again, if

only for answersnothing more. The current matter was vital, of course. What had killed those people? Were

the monastics all covering up for some kind of murder, or something even more insidious? They all seemed to

have that same look in their eyes; sleepy and distracted. Eleph had not seen it himself, but had heard of a few

occasions where isolated Church communities fell into cult activity, all becoming entranced by some insidious

heresy and developing a kind of group-think that inevitably led to their downfall. In each of those cases, the

Church had ended up sending in the Reds, resulting in dozens of needless deaths. He did not want it to happen

here; not when he could prevent it. But was this a cult? He didnt think so. Where was their charismatic leader?

Father Jaynus didnt suit the role, and neither did any of those Eleph had met. It had to be something elsebut

what? Could it be related to those old ruins? At this point, he had little basis for any conclusion without taking a

logical leap.

He closed the cloth cover of his notebook, placing it back into his satchel. Eleph knew he would get

little else from mere thinking. Thus, after a trip to the nearby well for some more water, followed by a quick

meal of dried fruit, Eleph found himself strolling to the opposite end of the mens living quarters, to where

Brother Cardon kept his books. This time, the door was unlocked. After a polite knock, Eleph walked right in.

Jaelug Isles so-called library was a single room; about twice the size of the chamber Eleph slept in. A

simple chamber of clay and brick; it contained two shoddily-built bookshelves and a table with a stack of

haphazardly-balanced paperwork and books. Elephs eyes briefly scanned the chamber, noting that most of the

books on the half-empty shelves were religious in nature: all seven volumes of the Tracts of Unity, The

Memoirs of Saint Beledar and about two dozen books of prayers or hymns. There were texts that stood out to

Eleph; Jomar Trayths Early History of the Markenian Empire, along with Heresies of the Old Age, which

Eleph knew dealt explicitly with the pre-Church Empires faith. Neither book was openly blasphemous; with

both mentioning the Old Religion, albeit not in a positive light. Other than that, there was nothing of any real

note, unless it was contained in the large wooden box that Brother Cardon kept under his desk. At least it

smelled like a library, noted Eleph, his nostrils taking in the all-too-familiar old book scent that held a fond

place in his memories of the seminary.

Cardon himself was sitting down as Eleph entered, his hands clasped around his protruding belly, over

which his brown cassock seemed rather tight. The man was perhaps around forty years old, with graying black

hair and a long nose. Cardon barely noticed him as he walked into the chamber, as he seemed deep into a cloth-

bound book that was sitting on his desk. The fat monk looked up as Eleph let out an intentional cough.

Yes? asked the monk, looking up from his studies with bulging brown eyes. Eleph noticed his eye-lids

were both rather puffed-out, and when he opened his mouth, the left side twitched slightly.

Are you Brother Cardon?

The other man nodded.

Eleph is my name. Most likely you were told of my arrival by Father Jaynus. As you might have

already heard, I am here investigating certain matters for the Church.

Cardons eyes immediately rose, while a smile came to his lips. Ah, yes, he said. I do recall the good

Father speaking of you nearly a week ago. I had not realized you had already arrived. A pleasure to meet you,

Brother Eleph.

Brother Cardon rose up out of his chair, both of his hands firmly pressing into the armrests in order to

lift his considerable bulk out of it. Fully on his feet, he faced Eleph and made a traditional bow.

It is rather nice to have a new guest at our monastery, Brother Eleph, he continued. While I am fond

of the monastic life, at times even a recluse like myself can enjoy a bit of company; and of Saint Lakkis Order,

at that. At times I wonder if I should have joined your Order instead of my own. I do enjoy the contemplative

life, yet at times I find myself craving all the diverse knowledge the Lakkisites have at their disposal.

There is no fault in that, responded Eleph, a half-smile coming to his own lips. Even the Church does

not blame a man for having too much passion for knowledge, provided it is of a sort condoned by our

institution.

Of course, of course, added Cardon with a chuckle. You have questions for me, then?

Yes, stated Eleph, his tone growing more serious, I do. It is not a pleasant topic, but three people

have died here this past year, all in similar circumstances. Father Jaynus stated that you might have more details

on their deaths.

The smile slowly receded from Cardons face, though his eyes kept their luster. He turned his head back

towards his cluttered table, reached slowly down and pulled out a leather-bound stack of vellum. Pulling it forth

and muttering to himself about details, Brother Cardon shuffled through the heavy sheets of vellum for several

minutes, sending a subtle crackling sound throughout the room.

Yes, he finally said, looking up from his work, These are my notes from each of the three deaths this

year. Cardon handed Eleph one of the vellum sheets, looking crinkly and stained with ink. A couple of

details you should know of, he continued, as Eleph began to scan over the relevant lines, is that all three

perished while walking between the lower dormitories and the caretakers shack. Two died on days with a slight

drizzle, and one on a clear day. Sister Arvina was known to be withdrawn and prone to fits of melancholy; I can

see why people might suspect her of jumping, though I cannot say for certain. Yoselus was elderly and prone to

forget himself; his death was most likely accidental. As for Morsi; well, our late brother was clear-headed and

quick-witteda master of memorization and rather unemotional.

Interesting, commented Eleph, his eyes looking over the notes. Only Sister Arvina had actually been

seen falling; and only at a distance, by one of her fellow sisters airing out laundry upon a nearby cliff. Brother

Yoselus had merely vanished on his way to the caretakers shack to bring in the morning shipment of food. He

had never returned and his basket of fish had been found discarded on the cliff side. Morsi, the most recent loss,

had not even been seen going in the direction, though a bit of blood, along with tattered fragments of his robe

exactly what Eleph had seen on his way inhad been found upon the jagged rocks.

What of the bodies? asked Eleph, noticing the missing detail. How were they discovered?

Cardon shrugged and shook his head. They were not, Brother. Sadly, the sea is a savage predator. All

were lost; their corpses assumed to have been sucked out to sea by the strong currents in the bowl.

The fat monk stared down at the table and shook his head. Eleph felt the hairs on the back of his neck

stand up. Yes, he realized; the reason there had been no graves dug out, but only markers. This was connected.

He knew it. It had to be important. There had to have been a reason no bodies were found, other than the

explanation of the sea having dragged them off. Elephs mind ran through the possibilities: were the bodies

hidden by a secret killer? Were the people still alive somewhere? Was there some conspiracy among the clergy

to hide these facts? Eleph quickly stopped the train of thought and concentrated on the facts he had. Again, he

knew his mind was prone to formulating such theories, whether they were true or not. Still, that chill across his

neck had been something; an intuition. His best teachers had told him to never ignore that.

Eleph placed the vellum back down to the table and let out a bit of a breath. Cardon looked up at him

curiously, his rather bulging eyelids appearing almost batrachian.

To change the subject, Brother, began Eleph, again, I noticed as I walked the grounds today that

there are a few old ruins here, seeming to predate the current monastery. Do you happen to know much of

these?

Oh, yes, said Brother Cardon with delight, his fat jowls bouncing, This island is quite the old place,

indeed. Oh, mind you, all islands are old places, made by your Creator and minewhat I mean to say is that

mans presence here far predates that of our own Church.

That much was made to clear to me when I spied those ruins, replied Eleph. By the fact that the vines

were cleared away from the one pillar, I surmise that you too have been studying them.

For certain, Brother, he said hungrily. There are old thing here; old things indeed. From what I have

gathered in my searches, this isle has long stood as a holy site. This is not the first, but the third monastery to be

built here. Its predecessor was a simple structure of wood, built by the post-Nenkal priesthood during our

Churchs missionary days. It stood where the current chapel stands, though was torn down three centuries ago.

Before that, records say that Jaelug Isle was used by the early Churchmen, when our faith was forbidden across

the Empire and men were murdered for praying to the Liberator. It is said that they sought Jaelug for its hiding

places; deep sea-caves where our predecessors could pray in secret.

Eleph shook his head. No, stated, The pillar I found was something else entirely. It was aged, but the

script upon it was not Old Markenian, and I know for a fact that none among our brethren dwelt this far north

when there was still a local dialect.

Cardon grinned ecstatically. Yes, he said, You are learned indeed, Brother. That pillar, I have

surmised, must predate even our earliest Church settlement here.

You mean

Yes, this site has been sacred long before our Church found it. That writing was of no local dialect, but

rather a religious script, from one of the cults of the old Empire.

Again, a shiver ran across the back of his neck, but Eleph was not surprised. This was the sort of thing

he had been trained to look for, after allsigns of the heretical; the blasphemous; the occult. That was exactly

what he had felt when first visiting Jaelug. It had the feel of an old place, a primordial place, the sort of place

that had existed since the dawn of time and had a tendency to pull men to it. Locations like this felt different;

subtle and yet powerful, the effects of nature somehow stronger and the habits of the people altered in strange

ways. It was like visiting the holy city of Coridine; where Michaleus himself was said to have ascended to the

heavens in a shower of light, or what Nenkal Isle must have been like before the eruption of the sacred mount,

or like over two dozen monolithic sites scattered across the remnants of the Markenian Empire. This place was

different.

Eleph could feel the shaky sensation all over his body now. Finally, since he started this mission, he felt

excitement. Things were going to come together soon, he knew it. Knowing that a brightness must be gathering

in his own eyes now, he smiled at Brother Cardon and nodded in acknowledgement.

Fascinating, is all he could say. Ill have to get a better look at the pillar; get some rubbings of the

symbols. Would you have any suitable paper for the task, and some charcoal?

Brother Cardon nodded enthusiastically, moving with surprising agility as he retrieved both of the items

from a nearby chest. Within moments, their conversation was done, and Eleph was on his way back to the ruin

site.

He marched past the rest of the dormitories, then proceeded to hoist himself up over the nearby rocks

and began walking towards where he had found the pillar. In the daylight he had no trouble finding it again, and

in mere moments he once more stood next to the centuries-old foundation, looking down at the vine-encrusted

pillar that stood out from one corner.

He pressed the paper down with a crinkle and began to make an impression upon it with his charcoal. It

only produced a barely-legible mess, the surface of the pillar was so encrusted with vines. Eleph began to brush

them off, most of the withered plants falling away at his hands touch. Soon he had scraped off enough vines to

get a better view of the writing. It was then that he saw a truth which had previously eluded him: the top of the

pillar was broken off, a clear chisel-mark visible where the breaker had done their work. No, this was no

supporting pillar, but rather a pedestal. Perhaps it had held a piece of art; a statue or a symbol of some sort.

Eleph put his wax paper on the ground and began to move his hands over the jagged break. This had been done

intentionally, and not in ancient times. The break had been covered by about a years worth of old vines, no

more, and as he examined the ground nearby, a few rock chips looked like they might have belonged on the

pedestal. Curious, thought Eleph, feeling once more the tingle of intuition.

That moment, a chorus of squawks filled his ears. Eleph spun around, still holding onto his paper. He

wasnt able to react in time as a seagull, now level with his face, thrust the tip of its beak into his cheek. He

screamed in both surprise and pain, reflexively using the charcoal in his right hand to swat the bird away,

though it continued to flaps its wings, hovering a foot away from his face. Eleph felt a sudden stab of pain in his

shoulder too, and could barely make out another seagull perched atop his back as it tried to repeatedly peck at

him. In his peripheral sight he could see several more of them, circling just above him. Eleph could already feel

a stream of warm blood pouring down his cheek.

With his pulse quickening and his left cheek throbbing, Eleph could barely think. The birds screeched as

they circled him, the more distant ones quickly drawing closer. Reflexively, he punched forward with his

charcoal-laden hand, striking the one who had wounded his cheek in the wing, sending it off balance as it spun

and hit the ground.

Eleph let loose a guttural howl as he swung wildly at the birds still flapping their wings above him. The

gulls darted back for an instant, out of his reach. At that moment he ran, grasping his bleeding cheek with one

hand as he clasped the rolled-up paper in another, doing his best to maintain his footing while he leapt and

hurdled over unsteady rocks. Eleph could the gulls behind him, their fiendish chirping following him for some

time, though it gradually faded off by the time he arrived back in sight of the dormitories and practically hurled

himself down the boulder-lined ridge and back down to the cobbled pathway behind Cardons library.

Eleph gasped for breath as he stumbled back to his room, the frantic mindset of the chase leaving him at

last as his heart-rate slowed and he regained his ordinary composure. Finally, back in his chamber, he looked

over his wounds using the small hand mirror he had taken along in his pack. The hole in his cheek was not deep,

though it had drawn a remarkable amount of blood, and on his back there was nothing much more than a welt

where the bird had pecked at him. Still, he washed both thoroughly with the water and cloth that he had, and

then laid down upon his cot, feeling exhausted.

Still, the thoughts ran through his mind like a rapid stream. What in the Liberators name was happening

here? Gulls would not normally attack a man, not in such an aggressive manner. Yet they had, and had done so

with a barely-relenting madness. It was as if the subtle strangeness of Jaelug were affecting them as well as it

had the people. Or had they been protecting that old ruin?

That thought sent a shiver up Elephs spine. Yes, he realized. The birds had struck the moment he had

uncovered the break in the pedestal. Something about his actions had driven them on, he knew, driven them to

madness. But what? All possible answers to that question were somewhat beyond the range of reason, bordering

on the paranormal if not outright supernatural.

Eleph immediately sat straight up in his cot, feeling the shivers covering his whole body and creeping

across his flesh. His eyes wide, he could barely feel the pain now, as the strange feeling washed over his body.

It was like he was being watched; like a thousand alien eyes were looking at him from every possible angle. The

feeling was a frightening one, but at the same time invigoratinga welcome change from the morose dreariness

that had been his constant companion on Jaelug.

It all had to be connected, he realized, as his mind began spinning together the various threads he had

uncovered: the oddly withdrawn monastics, the isles mysterious past and even those dreams he been having.

They were all related; each one, woven together in some sort of blasphemous tapestry. All he needed were a

few more details; and it began with finding out how that pedestal had been broken, and what had been atop it.

Eleph stood up. Cardon must have done it, he realized. He was the only man who had known about the

ruin, the only monk around curious enough to care about it. He must have chipped it off some time ago. A

wonder the loquacious Brother hadn't said a thing, but Eleph was already starting to feel that something else

entirely was happening with that frog-faced fellow back in the library.

Eleph stepped out of the room, seeing that the sun was already drifting lower in the sky. He must have

lain in his room longer than he thought. He began walking, and a minute later he was back at Cardons library.

Oddly, the door was open a crack, but as Eleph peeked in at the haphazardly arranged books and papers, he

noticed that the room was quite empty of Cardon himself.

Brother? he called in, softly, before deciding to step within the room. Cardon was indeed absent, he

realized, and neither was he in the small chamber in the back that served as his sleeping area. The room was a

tad altered from Elephs last visit: Brother Cardons chair was knocked onto its side, and a stack of thick papers

had also been thrown from the nearby table and now lay scattered across the stone floor.

Elephs eyes scanned the room, also noticing a small puddle of some kind of liquid between the door

and table: water, by the look of it; salty-smelling sea-water with tiny blue-green algae floating in it. Eleph took

mental note of the entire scene, also of his unusual revulsion at the waters smell. His mind kept going back to

the dream of last nightthe ocean, the squirming beings.

He focused once more on the present moment. A vague notion told him to look under the table. It looked

like one of those boxes beneath had been shifted a bit in whatever commotion had occurred here. Eleph pulled

the box fully into view. A large object inside was covered by a tarp. When he pulled that aside he was not

surprised to see a fragment of gray stone, ringed with veins of blue. It was the missing top of the pedestal, an

irregularly-shaped object about the size of two fists. Eleph pulled it from the box. It was, as he might have

guessed, a sort of statue, which his order would have referred to as an idol. Carved from that same blue-veined

rock, it resembled nothing so much as a gross hybridization of fish and cephalopod, with all the most unpleasant

features of shark and octopus combined in its hateful glare, dagger-sharp teeth and body of entwined tentacles.

Immediately he knew, and in a part of Elephs mind, this should have been obvious to him all along.

This was Knour: the old god of the sea, a pitiless stalker of the deep that the ancients prayed to not so much out

of reverence but rather fearsacrificing bloody offerings to keep him and his dreaded offspring at bay. Shark,

octopus, or some combination of the two: he was often depicted such, or in some equally grotesque form. Jaelug

Isle must have once been his temple, perhaps in some ways was still his temple; this quiet rock where humble

people said their prayers to a God of humanity, knowing little of the abominable horrors once practiced here.

Eleph was sure, now, that they were practiced still: the seemingly accidental deaths, all bodies lost to the

sea, the ruins, the dreams of both himself and Sister Myla. It all came together in a rush of realization. The

legends spoke of the Knourel, servants to the sea god, who would call sailors to their doom by entrancing their

minds; loathsome monsters who ate the flesh of men and used their still-living bodies as incubators for their

offspring. Most men today spoke of such things as mere legend, the domain of sailors stories and old

mythology. The poor and uneducated believed in such tales; civilized men were prone not to. Despite the

Churchs official stance, which said that the creations of the Old Gods were alive and real, many among even

the Lakkisites claimed that the old stories of the Knourel and others were but allegory. Eleph was starting to

suspect they were very, very wrong.

He could feel his heart beating faster, the abominable statue cold in his hands. He quickly placed it back

into the box, but as Eleph began to put the tarp back over it, he noticed something else within, a small leather-

bound book that had been pressed against the boxs side by the heavy statue. Immediately he pulled it out and

placed it on the table. The book was worn; its black leather faded into gray, many of its fifty-or-so pages

sticking together or turning yellow.

Nevertheless, Eleph opened it to the first page. It was a journal, Cardons own. The handwriting

matched that on the ledger Eleph had looked over earlier. The journal looked to have been started shortly over a

year ago, beginning last Juercondel, with each entry dated. Most were mundanethe notations of a quiet life,

concerning the migratory patterns of the isles birds, the sea-life found in tidal pools, or complaints about

Cardons own poor health. Eleph skimmed over most of these, finding little of interest, save for a few

comments on the monastics habits. As he read on, however, he noticed the handwriting shifting a bit, growing

shakier and more cluttered as he neared the middle of the book. He turned a few pages back, and began to read

more carefully:

7 Hadrel: I have begun exploring the grounds more, and it seems that the old church fathers

journals are right; this place does indeed have quite the history. I found a barren old ruin among the

rocks; a vine-encrusted foundation and a single pedestal remaining intact. Under the vines I found a

most blasphemous sight; a statue clearly dedicated to old Knour, foul lord of the seas. I prayed to the

Liberator to shield me from the dead gods curses, and then promptly removed the monstrous statue

from its base with my hammer and chisel. I will get Caretaker Homir to help me smash the thing in a

few days and rid us of such a frightful relic.

9 Hadrel: I have spent a full day studying the blasphemous statue. Though I am rightfully

disturbed by its unpleasant features, as well as the memory of what it invokes, I cannot help but be

fascinated by its skilled construction and material composition. The blue veins running through the stone

are most curious, and may contain trace amounts of Maerentium, a substance rarely found south of the

polar climes of Amdariak. Surisos classic Treatise clearly states how the metal was treasured by

occultists of old, and I dread to think what the old Knour worshippers did with such a vile thing. Yes,

indeed, I will have it smashed to bits as soon as I am able. Still, such relics have much to tell us in terms

of history and culture, so I will extract what I can from it beforehand.

11 Hadrel: I began walking the grounds again, though I must admit to a certain weariness, due to

odd dreams. Still, my walk was a fruitful one. I went past where I found the curious idol, traversing a

barely-discernible footpath that wound its way between heavy boulders and slowly snaked down to the

western shore of Jaelug. There, between a cleft in the rocks I found it: an ancient sea-cave, its walls

carved with faded bas-reliefs depicting the fish of the sea, along with a peculiar sort of ship that I am

unfamiliar with. Perhaps this site was once used by ancestors of Markenias nomadic harbor-men?

Rumors still abound of those squat and filthy folk worshipping unwholesome entities, so I would not be

surprised at such a fact. Sadly, the cavern did not go deeply into the ground before ending in a heavy

slab that I was unable to move by hand.

14 Hadrel: The rains were of the icy sort today. The season is shifting, and soon it will grow too

hazardous to conduct my research here. I must move that slab in the cave, and uncover whatever secrets

this isle still hides. Earlier today I borrowed the caretakers sledge for the task. I was also planning on

using it to smash that abominable idol, but again I could not bear to destroy such a valuable find. Later it

shall be done, after I open up the rest of the cave and am able to fully reveal what is inside of it to Father

Jaynus. Then we will conduct a purge of all this foulness.

15 Hadrel: Finally, I have managed to push aside heavy slab over the deep cave. The sledge did

not do for it, but I was able to use the caretakers crowbar as a lever, and pried the slab aside enough to

look inside. There in the darkness I found that the cavern opened up to a yawning grotto that seemed to

spread out to nearly half the length of Jaelug itself! The stench of untold centuries of rot assailed my

senses, but still I explored onward, climbing down a series of ledges until I a