Stars twinkled in the dim skies above Istarion, and the scent of lilies filled the palace courtyard with a sweet fragrance as Queen Sariontari frowned in deep concentration. As she studied the crownwood table before her, her eyes suddenly brightened, and she reached for a gamepiece, displacing the qui of her atavian opponent with a triumphant smile. With a courteous nod to the queen's clever move, Samakhulis Nightingale-Moonflair reached for the dice and began her turn.

"Stars favour my roll, for I will need it against such a sharp challenger," Samakhulis spoke in eloquent Tsol'dasi, complimenting the queen's strategy while taking care not to flatter. Sariontari gave a soft smile, and resumed the story she had begun telling only a few moments earlier.

"... and so he came to a place of sublime beauty: a hollow amidst three icy hills. There, sheltered from the howling winds, grew a single fir tree. Snow fell lightly all round it, and Carme felt utter peace. As he rested beneath the boughs of the fir, he began to reflect upon the past. By the time Carme resumed his journey, he was overwhelmed by his memories. He wept for his family and for the idyllic times that could never again be. As he crossed the frozen wasteland, his tears fell hot to the ground, melting the ice behind him and creating a great chasm."

Samakhulis laughed as Sariontari finished. "Surely the tears of a man, even one as great as Carme, could not have such an effect," she protested. The queen gave a knowing smile.

"The tale is difficult to believe, yes... but there is indisputable truth at its core. A great chasm lies far east of here, and at its bottom lies a lake of salt. But be warned that it is a perilous place... those who enter seldom return." Samakhulis' mind worked silently as the pair continued their game of N'ai-an'tzai-an'har, and at last she conceded defeat to the queen. Excusing herself, Samakhulis stepped outside, her gaze turned thoughtfully to the east.

~ ~ ~

The next morning, bolstered by the protection of a mighty draconic form, Samakhulis soared through the air, skimming the surface of the frigid tundra. As she came upon the great crevasse she had passed many times before, she alighted upon the ground, contemplating a stunted and twisted tree with both wonder and skepticism. Was this the fir of the Tsol'dasi queen's tale?

Carefully Samakhulis made her way along the rim of the chasm, and soon she came upon a ledge that descended into what appeared to be a bottomless fissure. Even with the steadiness of an experienced explorer, more than once she nearly lost her footing, narrowly avoiding a deadly plunge into the unknown.

It was not more than a day later when Samakhulis emerged from the icy depths. Winded and marred by fresh wounds, she had clearly survived a harrowing battle within this, the Fissure of Echoes... but against whom? Or what?

Penned by My hand on the 11th of Phaestian, in the year 671 AF.