Lore: The Paxultek King
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If this account is found, I will surely die. But I love my empress. Whatever happens to me, the truth must be written down for her sake.
I who write this am a Thaenkeeper, one of many. My existence has been devoted to caring for the Tree of Life and, through it, the empress and her Immortals. Few know the hearts of both the Thaen and Empress Jinas better than I.
What she did, she did for love.
It began with the visit of the Krell’s paxultek king. Although the war between Pan and Krell ended years ago, raiding parties from both worlds continued to attack the weak and defenseless. Our truce was a sham, and our people still suffered.
So it was that the paxultek king came through the door from their world to seek an audience with the empress. And Jinas, our gracious ruler, gave him this audience and listened to his tale.
The goblin king told a tale of sorrow, of a terrible cyclops who had demanded tribute of the Krell’s youngest daughter. It had long been this way—that was the reason the king had called the truce in the first place—but after years of fruitless attempts to save his daughter, the king came to Empress Jinas as a desperate father seeking a boon.
The Krell, he said, have ancient stories of other worlds, stretching back even to the times before the Pan had sailed the Dark Sea. Those stories drew them to Yaesha in search of the Tree of Life, but their tales said nothing about the Pan, and the Krell were surprised at our resistance and had to revise their estimation of our people. They came seeking life, not war, and they were as surprised as we were.
But the king did not come before our empress asking for the fruit of life. He sought a means to destroy his enemy and save his daughter. He spoke of secrets that only the Thaenkeepers knew—of deep caverns where the roots of the Thaen wend and wind into Yaesha’s belly and sprout a very different kind of fruit. For the Thaen not only produces the beautiful fruit that gives the Immortals life but also a gnarled gourd that gives certain death.
The goblin king begged Jinas for this twisted fruit. “Please,” he said, “my daughter is all I have left.” In return, he swore to destroy the painting connecting our worlds, thus ending the war for good.
Jinas was wary, of course, but also moved by the king’s sorrow. After two days and two nights of consideration, she summoned him and said, “None of us swim alone. Take what you need and go.”
It was love that moved her hand, for that is who our empress is.
She could not have foreseen what would happen.
Hours after the gourd was plucked and the goblin king returned to his world, a single leaf fell from the branches of the Tree that Never Changes. More have fallen since, slow and seldom, but they are the first to fall in the Thaen’s lifetime, and they will not be the last.
The Thaen is dying. Many do not want to believe, for the Thaen’s life is the Pan’s, but as one who has spent my life communing with the tree, who knows its song by heart, I can tell you with certainty that it is true.
And I am equally certain of what will happen next. The fruit will fail. Her majesty will grow afraid—afraid to lose both life and power. For who would not be? She will hoard what fruit is left, like the gnorrbear hoards its bread. It may be tens, even hundreds, of years before any but Thaenkeepers and empress know the truth, but when the others learn... There will be war.
I know this as I know the beating of my own heart. When that day comes, let it be known that Empress Jinas acted for the good of all peoples and that she could not possibly have foreseen the cost. I know not why Yaesha seems to have repaid good with ill, but I know that our empress is, now and always, worthy of our love.
I who write this am a Thaenkeeper, one of many. My existence has been devoted to caring for the Tree of Life and, through it, the empress and her Immortals. Few know the hearts of both the Thaen and Empress Jinas better than I.
What she did, she did for love.
It began with the visit of the Krell’s paxultek king. Although the war between Pan and Krell ended years ago, raiding parties from both worlds continued to attack the weak and defenseless. Our truce was a sham, and our people still suffered.
So it was that the paxultek king came through the door from their world to seek an audience with the empress. And Jinas, our gracious ruler, gave him this audience and listened to his tale.
The goblin king told a tale of sorrow, of a terrible cyclops who had demanded tribute of the Krell’s youngest daughter. It had long been this way—that was the reason the king had called the truce in the first place—but after years of fruitless attempts to save his daughter, the king came to Empress Jinas as a desperate father seeking a boon.
The Krell, he said, have ancient stories of other worlds, stretching back even to the times before the Pan had sailed the Dark Sea. Those stories drew them to Yaesha in search of the Tree of Life, but their tales said nothing about the Pan, and the Krell were surprised at our resistance and had to revise their estimation of our people. They came seeking life, not war, and they were as surprised as we were.
But the king did not come before our empress asking for the fruit of life. He sought a means to destroy his enemy and save his daughter. He spoke of secrets that only the Thaenkeepers knew—of deep caverns where the roots of the Thaen wend and wind into Yaesha’s belly and sprout a very different kind of fruit. For the Thaen not only produces the beautiful fruit that gives the Immortals life but also a gnarled gourd that gives certain death.
The goblin king begged Jinas for this twisted fruit. “Please,” he said, “my daughter is all I have left.” In return, he swore to destroy the painting connecting our worlds, thus ending the war for good.
Jinas was wary, of course, but also moved by the king’s sorrow. After two days and two nights of consideration, she summoned him and said, “None of us swim alone. Take what you need and go.”
It was love that moved her hand, for that is who our empress is.
She could not have foreseen what would happen.
Hours after the gourd was plucked and the goblin king returned to his world, a single leaf fell from the branches of the Tree that Never Changes. More have fallen since, slow and seldom, but they are the first to fall in the Thaen’s lifetime, and they will not be the last.
The Thaen is dying. Many do not want to believe, for the Thaen’s life is the Pan’s, but as one who has spent my life communing with the tree, who knows its song by heart, I can tell you with certainty that it is true.
And I am equally certain of what will happen next. The fruit will fail. Her majesty will grow afraid—afraid to lose both life and power. For who would not be? She will hoard what fruit is left, like the gnorrbear hoards its bread. It may be tens, even hundreds, of years before any but Thaenkeepers and empress know the truth, but when the others learn... There will be war.
I know this as I know the beating of my own heart. When that day comes, let it be known that Empress Jinas acted for the good of all peoples and that she could not possibly have foreseen the cost. I know not why Yaesha seems to have repaid good with ill, but I know that our empress is, now and always, worthy of our love.