Chapter 8

Jorm and Miowni rode towards an old elden temple which lay to the west of
the ringstones. They did not retrace their steps completely but travelled
slightly south of their outward journey, passing two small homesteads whose
inhabitants aided them with food and water. They tarried only a short while
at these places, and Goronaks kingdom which lay to the north was by-passed
completely. Even when they spotted the seven stones, Jorm only paused for a
short while saying, 'It is not for me again to set foot in the circle,'
then they rode on.

Again their path westward was not totally deserted but Jorm insisted on
pushing on, stopping only at nightfall for sleep and short intervals
through the day for sustenance. Eventually the temple came into view. Both
were weary and saddle sore and the sight of their destination cheered them
though Miowni remained cautious.

The building retained little of its former glory, it dated back countless
years and although its pillars and ornate designs had weathered well, time
had taken its toll.

'Alas, this is what an elden temple looks like,' said Miowni in a weary
voice.

'The remains of one,' said Jorm. 'If indeed the eldens considered it a
temple. We often attach our own names to strange places. It is the place of
the shrine, which in times past held the doorway to the darkworld firmly
shut. That was until Nomarn created the 'seeing glass,' whatever and
wherever that may be.' Jorm sighed. 'Useless information. It is said that
only the Queen of the elden can destroy the glass - and even then it would
only serve to trap these evil wraiths in our world.'

Miowni gave a disenchanted look, then in an inquisitive voice said, 'Does
anyone live here?'

Jorm shrugged his shoulders. 'There is only one way to find out.'

The ground before the temple was unkempt. Tall grass grew here, and there
was a scattering of trees. They rode almost to the cold stone walls before
they dismounted. After tethering their horses they made their way towards a
large wooden door which stood atop a staircase of stone.

'Should we enter?' suggested Miowni.

Jorm glanced at the deepening sky, then looked at the door which had a
large brass knocker which looked recently polished. 'I think we should make
use of the knocker.'

The knocker made a loud deep sound when Jorm struck the door - not once but
three times. They waited... Jorm knocked again. No one came. He pushed the
door; it slid silently open. They entered a large hallway which stretched
twenty paces before them; above shafts of light struck patterned walls
through small windows. They walked quietly forward as if the slightest
sound would give away their presence, though their aim was to attract
attention. They passed through an archway to stand in a large chamber.
The shrine stood against the far wall, it looked not unlike a large bronze
eagle. Before it, crouched a bent figure.

'Welcome Jorm, I have been waiting for you.'

Miowni and Jorm looked at one another.

'Are you expected?' questioned Miowni in a quiet voice.

'It would seem so,' replied Jorm.

The figure rose and turned to reveal an aged face, a full set of greying
hair and a short white beard. 'Come closer, my children.'

They both moved a little closer.

'Are you an elden, little old man?' asked Miowni.

'No, I am a little old man.'

'Oh,' said Miowni.

'I am the 'keeper of the shrine'. The caretaker of all that stands about
you.'

Jorms eyes were studying the shrine. 'Yes, we noticed the door knocker that
had been cleaned.' He gave a tired smile.

'It is good that you can still jest,' said the keeper.

'I find it more difficult by the day,' replied Jorm.

'Nevertheless your spirit is still strong.'

'If you are the keeper - for whom are you tending this place?' asked
Miowni, in a curious voice.

'Perhaps myself. This was the home of the elden wise; wizards some called
them. I feel it is their power which holds this stonework together, though
the shrine these walls were built to protect is now no more than an
ornament - a rather beautiful one, I may add.' The keeper cast his eyes
around the chamber, then to the shrine.

'It seems you expect the wise to return,' said Jorm, his eyes widening.

'Who knows?' replied the keeper.

'I deem you know more than you are telling,' said Miowni. 'You expected
Jorms arrival. Was this meeting pre-arranged.' Miownis eyes flitted from
the keeper to Jorm.

Jorm shook his head. 'I knew this place was tended, but word of our coming
did not precede us.' Jorm cast his own eyes on the keeper.

The keeper smiled. 'I am the wizards sage. Some call me the soothsayer,
others call me an oracle.'

'A seer,' said Miowni. 'You see the future.'

'A sage,' replied the keeper, 'I am wise enough to foresee the future.'

Miowni thought for a moment. 'Ah... Yes... Well if you are so wise then why
are you the keeper.'

'I am the keeper because there is no one else.'

Jorm studied the little old man. 'You are telling us nothing.'

'You knew I would be here,' replied the keeper. 'My family has tended this
place for countless years. We bear much of the knowledge and wisdom that
dwelt here in the elden days. No one can really be certain of the future,
but I, like those before me, can project my mind forward to glimpse the
many roads of destiny. You came here for my help. You wish to know the
outcome of your story.'

'And.'

'First you must eat and rest. You travel well ahead of your friends. You
have time in hand.'

'How...?'

The old man simply turned and beckoned them to follow. 'All in good time,
my friends, All in good time.'
