Prologue

The Great Library

When you look down from the cliffs on the south side of the island Doasm, not very far from the city of Wa-Gorzd, somewhere halfway down you can see a gigantic structure built in the cliff itself. It simply defies space and time. To reach this structure you descend the spiral staircase which is wide but without any bannister. They lower from the edge of the cliff circling down to the entrance.

There are some rumors that, if you collapse the very top of the stairs, the structure will fall. None, though, have ever dared to do so.

A mysterious figure has been descending the stairs. His robe was hanging off him unnaturally. A giant Loner Treasurekeeper was dressed in the best equipment wish listed by all the guards ever, and many a warrior too. He felt naked though as this person came in front of him. He stood his guard not saying a word as he knew that these kinds of characters bring trouble if you spoke out of terms. The figure under the robe stopped for a moment just a step away from the Loner looking for something to leave the giant uncomfortable. The next moment from under the robe an Emperor's Decree for using the Great Library was displayed.

-Fine, thou can pass. – said the keeper and for a moment, while he was pushing the huge door, he turned his back to the newcomer.  Spikes of chill went down his spine, but it all passed as soon as the robed figure was inside behind the doors that were sealed with a double magical word which only knew the keeper of the Great Library.

-Finally - spoke the mysterious person now that he's found himself in the dark within the library hall. He was looking like a twenty-year-old, with messy grey hair and piercing blue-green eyes. This could have been seen when he took off the hood, only if wasn't dark.

-Where to start...? - he mumbled to himself.

He made a few steps, obviously seeing in the dark, but he stopped suddenly carefully pointing his hands toward the direction which sensed dangerously. From that direction, firstly feeble, then brighter appeared light and in it a gargoyle which lazily waddled lighting up candelabrums along the way.

-I am terribly sorry master Kilbar Yoncel for not welcoming you. - Stone cold voice echoed the hall of the Great Library. Even though the purpose was to be a hall, the place was filled with shelves topped up with books and scrolls. Kilbar didn't notice them though, completely taken aback by the gargoyle and its behaviour. - And you are early a day though.

-How come you know that? – Kilbar was intrigued because for all the time he has walked this World of Zamrock nobody knew of his name. And his walk was a long one… -Is there some know-it-all magic? You would be the first in Zamrock to know my name.

-I would say no. Magic as such doesn’t exist. All beings and things have their name which they carry out loud. You should only know how to read. And if there is such magic you are talking about, it would be rather boring. Already I know too much, and it’s getting rather dull.

-Idea of knowledge would be to use it not to get bored and advance in life, right?

-I thought so too when I was young and inexperienced. Life was endeavouring, but when you know the outcome of all you do it simply makes you lose interest.

-It does make sense what you are saying, but I will dare to find something to change your mind. Fine! Where can I work?

Gargoyle waddled again through the hallways while his voice echoed through the library.

-From the list I received with the subjects that interest you, I separated all the books and placed them in the main reading room since we do not plan to have visitors anytime soon. There are only eighteen times thirteen and eight books. That is if we exclude maps, sketches and books of senibulein.

-Great. I won’t be wasting any moment gargoyle… What did you say your name was?

-I did not. Forgive my rudeness. – Gently taking a bow the gargoyle said his earthly name followed by his elven. – Hobble Pidon Andun or Solon Garagalias.

-I will call you First which your elven name says. Lead the way, Solon.

-As you wish.

They followed a few more hallways where they passed a collection of dwarven short stories from the Second age. Solon led through the series of passages, then up the stairs, down the spiral ones, across the short bridge over the rocky shores and sea, to enter a large room with numerous desks. Walls were covered with books. Two massive windows shaped like an open book and bordered by relieved rocks were allowing the light to step in just a bit. The other end of the room was still pretty much dark.

Raising his torch high, the gargoyle lighted some sort of a string that blazed and the flame raced up to be split in two ways which burned their way across the ceiling in parallel. They split each in two again, and all parts split again. They fired up and lit to finally meet in the center. The room, which was the main reading room, was lit like the brightest day. Just like the one Kilbar left to be here. Or at least partly like on his ship (wherever in the orbit it was) where he needs to get back to finish the job started. Somewhere nearing the end of the reading room, some desks were filled with books.

-My new working place. – Said Kilbar mostly for himself and while going toward the piles of books, he laid his robe on one of the chairs. He was wearing a yellow silken blouse and a blue woollen dress dotted with silver shapes. Underneath were the bare feet in sandals which flopped their way forward. It was the fashion of the northern barbarian tribes where he was before coming to the Great Library.

Solon stood firm at the place he torched the fire ropes. After some time, he said that he will bring dinner at the twentieth hour and left. Kilbar did hear him but said nothing while he looked at the books. He instinctively picked up one and opened it. It was about angels.

Dnarkalean.

He was one of the pieces in this Forgotten Story puzzle. Good enough for the start. He grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it next to him and placed the book on it. He sat on the floor in front of the chair crossing his legs and from his belt unfastened a hefty bag. When he opened it, a great sum of glowing yellow seeds shuns across his face. He swallowed one seed while thinking how much he loved travelling.

-May the Forgotten story begin. – He officially announced and smiled to his silly self. He looked around just to make sure that all-knowing gargoyle Solon isn’t looking, but he went away on his business some time ago.

The feeling of sinking overcome all the other senses. He was falling through time and space. This was the first time using these seeds and he had no clue how it will work. Up until now.

Strong pain in his head, and then throughout his body, followed by a strong shriek were just a small piece of the orchestra and pains that have suddenly plaid their theme.

Kilbar almost cursed the seeds when he suddenly snapped out of some half-dream of pain and many an unpleasant sound which were just like that forgotten and now, he was floating over the eastern walls of the city of Zamrock.

Flashy colorless young dawn was confusing, but Yoncel’s senses gradually accustomed themselves to this way of watching outside the body. Colors have crawled up the walls of the city and all surroundings and flashiness disappeared in the whole landscape. Nearby, Dnarkalean the angel sat. Long curly hair was falling covering his whole back. He had sharp, almost carved lines on his scrawny face. It looked like he had eaten too much knowledge and too little food. The angel was danging his legs watching the far horizon.

Kilbar Yoncel gave in to the Forgotten Tale and it took him in gently in its unstoppable flow.

In the endlessness of some long-lost thoughts, he searched for long-forgotten reasons. Sitting on the east side of the wall of the castle, he carelessly danged his legs watching the birth of Eghark, this world's Sun. It rose above the Dragon breath, the majestic fog that was coming out of the volcano Tahinev, or how some call it a Sleeping God Tahinev. The eternal fog was spreading all over the eastern part of the Eye of Zamrock.

He was just thinking to himself how the day is perfect for an adventure. Then he just wondered in what kind of trouble his friends got themselves now. He was especially interested where did that Zackary Bennet go now? It’s been a whole twelve years since they last saw each other. But what are a mere twelve years to the whole of eternity?

Dnarkalean’s thoughts were interrupted by a wonderous fragrance in the air, unusual power for which he understood that it was the music from the earth itself, from the depths of Gaean, an echo from the heart of Zamrock.

He shut his eyes and gave in to the melody…

Kilbar Yoncel resisted the melody because he knew it was not a piece of music from Gaean, but from his heart. Forgotten Tale was too powerful, and it took over control over its passenger who sank into the darkness behind the Dnarkalean’s eyelids.