Save your strength.  You must rest, old man.

Nay, I'm done for.  Ye must seek it, Sir Tecil.

What must I seek?

I've long studied the ancient records

– cough –

in the archives at the University of Marrow

– cough –

Know this, the Kingdom will not survive without it.

Without what, old man? (Quick, more stew!)

You must seek the Silver Beam from Heaven.

'Tis but a myth.

Nay, not a myth. But part of prophecy most solemn.

You speak of the Beam that bequeaths the "Gifts of the Dead?"

Aye, Gifts 

– cough –

Gifts that ye surely need.

None can match my sword,

neither can any match the stout hearts of my fellow knights.

Nevertheless... Ye are doomed, Sir Tecil. 

Without the gifts, your sword will fail you.

Your men will scatter to the Four Winds of the Four Chambers.

And dead we all... wi...

​

The Silver Beam?  A channel come down from Heaven, 

bestowing the mysterious Gifts of the Dead

from the associates of the Rose herself?  Could it be true?

The old man's words needle me so.

​

​

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