Chapter Sixteen
“Lord Raloren will see you now.”
Sephi and I stepped through a set of double doors to a seventh-story office with a grand view over the campus.
“Greetings,” said a silver-haired elven gentleman with bright blue eyes.
We bowed.
“When I founded this academy, I vowed to guide it for a century, no more. And here, 153 years later, I still find myself dragged back into things.”
“We regret the intrusion, Lord Raloren,” said Sephi.
He waved his hands. “Oh, it is quite all right. If you deal with an old man, you have to allow him his gripes and quirks. Please, sit.”
“You have a reputation,” I said. “The principles of this institution… the words on the mosaic.”
Sephi sighed. “We did not know who else to go to.”
Lord Raloren rested his chin on tented hands. “Not certain if ‘Enlightenment, Integrity, Egality’ are just empty words, are you?”
“We didn’t say that,” I blurted.
He frowned. “In a way, they are. It is up to people to make them more. Now, the name Barynor Faexalim certainly caught my attention.”
Sephi handed him the journal, explained the events, elaborating on certain passages within it, families whose names might be tarnished.
“You know, I met Barynor on a few occasions. Enthusiastic fellow. Wicked sense of humor as well. I suppose he needed it, though, seeing what he did, knowing what he did, and having to keep a level head and perform his duty day after day.” He leaned back in his chair.
“Ironic that a Melandrach elf and a provincial human—”
“Mister Thistlewood is not a provincial—”
Lord Raloren raised both hands. “Poor choice of words on my part. But your reaction proves a point. He is from a small town on the former frontier. It is a fact. But it doesn’t have to be a judgment. Your journal contains facts. It is up to people to guide judgments.”
“So you intend to…” Sephi’s voice faltered.
“I intend to do nothing.” He gazed solemnly.
My gut sank.
I glanced at her. Took her hand in mine. Decorum be damned.
“I will, however,” said Lord Raloren, “afford you the opportunity to do something. The journal alone is merely a seed. You must grow it into something greater. I have connections at the Halamar Herald. You two will jointly write a story. Each week, a new chapter. Be truthful, but be tactful. Tell a story to inspire, not just defame. There are many from the time of the Empire who could afford to be knocked down a peg. Yet there are others whose courage and deeds have gone unrecognized for far too long. You may interview me from time to time if there are gaps in the journal. I am willing to elaborate where I am able. What do you say?”
As Sephi and I glanced at each other, she squeezed my hand, reminding me that I still held hers.
She nodded.
I nodded.
“I had rather expected to be done with the whole affair one way or another,” she said. “And it appears we will both become more deeply entangled.”
Lord Raloren nodded. “That is the nature of life, I fear. It is always far more messy than we would wish.”
“I’d like to point out that neither of us are skilled storytellers,” I said.
He smiled, “Rumor has it you both attend an institute of learning. And a rather good one, if I do say so myself.”