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By Root 902 0

one last look at Pierce and then bolted skyward. Matter became energy, and his rising black star soared ever upwards.

Outside the tall walls the snow was a good half foot deep. Inside however the morning sun shone down on green grass still wet from the frost melting. The sap in the maples dripped merrily into silver buckets. There was a constant buzz of people and insects as the Academy churned with the excitement over the recent battle and the ascendence of a new god.

Things like that didn't happen every day but those who knew what to look for would have seen another history in the making: Doctor Pierce. The aged veteran stood at the base of a huge felled maple and chopped away with an axe. Five men could have wrapped their arms around the trunk and still not completed the circle. There he stood for hours, axe working away steadily at the trunk of the tree, envisioning the horse and rider that lay within.

In less than a week the statue would be complete and it would be a monument for all those who followed. The marble walls of the Academy and the limbs of its founder would be dust in the wind before the wooden statue lay to rest. Its hard surface would endure the elements for many generations of students at the Academy. It would bear graffiti and have to be scrubbed clean by the offenders before the century was done. Its colour would take on a classic aged look but still be just as strong. Much the same could be said of the artist when he was done for his grey hair had the classic look of a man who had grown wise and strong with his years. At the base of the statue, he inscribed in block letters the words "WITTER, MY IDOL, MY MENTOR, MY COMRADE, AND MY FRIEND".

The drow bard overlooked the vast city from the eastern cliff. In the distance she could see the sharp blue of the Swordcoast. She hoped this would not be the last time she saw the City of Splendours and yet at the same time she hoped she would never return. She loved this city dearly. It had been her haven for many, many years of exile. If she survived the next few weeks however, she could only hope that she never saw it's wonders again.

It would be awhile before Pierce noticed that his horse was missing, indeed he might never notice. Already Valeska had determined that Bartholomew was the most tempersome brute she had ever come across. She would need the huge stallion where she was going however.

She turned the horse stiffly and Bartholomew gave a great shrudder as he raced away from the city at gallop. The snow and dirt under his feet churned and left a muddy wake of chaos.

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Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue