Silver Chains

Zane Joly

Comprehensive Summarized List of Living Wer Clans

By Kamedin Zemfose, inquisitor of the Silver Order

DRAGONS:

Bestial Form: Komodo dragon lizard

Unique Abilities: Pyromancy (control of fire), a bite that causes magical infection, unusual strength even for werfolk

Cycle and Times of Power: Dragons follow the day and night cycle and have power during the day. They are strongest at noon and summer solstice.

Method of Turning: Bite

Additional Note: They are not to be confused with the winged “True dragons”, which possessed wings and are extinct. Dragons are also related to the minor naga clan, also now extinct.

LYCANS:

Bestial Form: Wolf

Unique Abilities: Control over beasts (especially wolves), forming mental links with other “pack members”, unnaturally sharp claws and teeth.

Method of Turning: Bite

Cycle and Times of Power: Lycans follow the moon cycle, but are also connected to the cycle of day and night. They are stronger at night when the moon is half or more full, favoring when the moon is waxing, and strongest at the full moon.

Additional Note: Lycans are often accompanied by ordinary wolves, but many lycans do spend long periods of time in wolf form. Exposure to truesilver is the most reliable means of telling the difference between lycans and normal wolves.

SHADOWCLAWS:

Bestial Form: Different species of feline, most are capable of both a large and small feline form

Unique Abilities: Illusion, including invisibility and sound muffling. These abilities are somehow different from similar whisperwing ones, the author has been unable to discover what the distinction is. Unusually quick, even for werfolk.

Method of Turning: Claw scratch

Cycle and Times of Power: Shadowclaws follow the day and night cycle and have power at dawn and dusk. They are strongest at the fall and spring equinoxes.

Additional Note: At the time of this recording, the shadowclaw wer clan is still not extinct. The author is well aware their numbers are sharply declining, and may soon be extinct.

WHISPERWINGS:

Bestial Form: Different species of owl

Unique Abilities: Invisibility and soundless movement, summoning physical darkness, brief creation of light, ability to magically track individuals (rumored and unconfirmed)

Cycle and Times of Power: Whisperwings follow the day and night cycle and have power during the night. They are strongest at midnight and winter solstice.

Method of Turning: Talon scratch

Additional Note: Whisperwings are highly offended when their invisibility abilities are compared to that of shadowclaws, or when their affinity for night is compared to that of lycans. If you offend a whisperwing, make very sure it has no weapons in close reach and that you are a safe distance away.

CEPHOSI (singular: cephos):

Bestial Form: Typically octopus, occasionally squid

Unique Abilities: Control of water and aquatic life, able to breathe underwater, sometimes venom, unusually strong when using tentacles, even for werfolk

Method of Turning: Beak bite

Cycle and Times of Power: Cephosi follow the tide cycle, which is connected to the moon cycle. They gain power at high tide, and are weak at low tide. They are also stronger when near large saltwater bodies. Cephosi are strongest at high spring tide, which occurs at times of full and new moon. They have middling power at neap tide, which occurs at one and three quarter moons. Weakest at low spring tide. For more information on the nature of tides, locate a different source.

Additional Note: The wer clans seem to show lines of relation, such as how shadowclaws, dragons, and whisperwings all follow the day and night cycle. The cephosi seem the most distantly related to the other four, given that the cycle they follow and powers are so different. Cephosi rarely interact with the other wer clans and are considered much less of an abomination by seafaring communities. All evidence indicates however they share the moral corruption of the other wer clans.

Prologue: The Warning

Anwir

I dreamt of a forest. Rain fell around me, and dark clouds concealed the stars. There was a gap in between them that let the moon’s radiance shine down. It was full. That wasn’t good. My shoes sank in the mud and I looked around me. Creatures moved in the dark between the trees. There were growls and hoots, and I occasionally saw the shining eyes. Their silhouettes shifted and writhed, shadows melting from human, then to animal, then to something in between. I could see the roots of the trees slowly reaching for my legs. 

Nightmares weren’t uncommon for me, but I could feel this one was different. It was one of those dreams. “Silverlord Anwir…” said a voice. It was distorted and muffled, but I could understand it. Most nights I couldn’t. All the truesilver around my sleeping body blocked the being’s attempts at messaging me. The voice only came for me when it was raining, when it was strongest.

“What do you want with me, demon?” I asked. My voice sounded too old. Too frail.

“Your order…” the voice said, “... Took what was ours… the stone circle… the time is… soon.”

“You don’t scare me,” I said, but I was unable to control the waver in my voice as I could when I was awake, “You never have.”

“The forest… the Wer Wood… will rise… the clans… march together.” My feet sank deeper into the mud and I could feel my entire being burn. “Submit… Anwir,” the voice continued, “And lives… will be spared.”

“I will not submit to your corruption!” I yelled, but my voice was consumed by the winds that suddenly rose around me.

“You cannot… stop… the clans… together... the wer clans… will break… your order…”

The voice faded away, and the shadows and rain and wind and trees around me melted together into a swirling sea of darkness that consumed me. I woke up, breathing heavily. I had hoped they had forgotten. But they had not. The time was approaching.

Part I: Silver Lies From A Silver Tongue

Chapter 1: The Doctor

Nemros

“I hereby swear to serve the Silver Order, and to ensure the safety and protection of the silverlord with my life. I will dedicate all that I have to the purification and rehabilitation of those afflicted with the wer curse, for all deserve mercy and redemption. May truesilver eternally guide my path,” I said as I kneeled on the stone floor, reciting the memorized oath.

“Rise, Nemros, and go in service of the Silver Order,” said Silverlord Anwir, standing above me. I slowly stood up from my kneeling position and bowed my head to him.

“Thank you, silverlord.”

Anwir was a slightly short man with graying hair, a wrinkled face, honey skin, and bright green eyes. He had a truesilver ring on his right hand and wore a gray chunk of stone about an inch long with a swirling design carved into it on a truesilver chain around his neck. He was dressed in high quality clothes, a gray vest over a white tunic and gray pants.

He waved his hand at the softly glowing knights around him and said, “Alright, enough with the ceremony, you have more important things to do, don’t you?”

The honor guards were the elite knights of the Silver Order, and there were only ever forty at a time. They were covered head to foot in plate armor made from truesilver, the divine metal. This made them almost entirely impervious to werfolk and their dark magic. Their armor gave off a perpetual slight glow. This, combined with the helmets they wore, made it impossible to see their faces, and I suspected this was by design. A lot of effort was put into making the members of the Honor Guard nearly indistinguishable from each other.

Most of the fifteen gathered honor guards dispersed to see to their other duties, but four stayed behind as the silverlord’s bodyguards. There were kings who would envy at Anwir’s security. His health and safety was absolutely paramount to the Silver Order, as Anwir had no heir and the position of silverlord had always been hereditary since Anwir’s grandfather had founded the Order. Which is why I had been chosen to be Anwir’s personal physician.

Anwir began strolling out of the room with his personal guards keeping formation around him. I followed him, unsure of how to speak to the silverlord. “Nemros,” he said conversationally, “I must say, I look forward to working with you. You have made a name for yourself quite quickly. One of the best doctors and medics there is! Terrana vouched for you rather strongly, though that’s hardly a surprise.” 

“Yes,” I said, nervously, “My sister is certainly enthusiastic. I tried to stop her from being one of my references, since she doesn’t exactly have much of an official role in the Order, but she’s quite difficult to stop when she sets her mind to something.”

Anwir chuckled a little at that, “She is spirited, yes. And despite the fact that her position in the headquarters is as a cook, she did have a compelling argument for your promotion. She is well-liked by many in the headquarters, and has a social connection with nearly everyone, so I thought Terrana would be a good judge of character, even when considering her personal attachment to her little brother. She seemed to really emphasize that you were her little brother.”

“She’s only a year older than me,” I muttered, which made Anwir laugh. The guards remained as silent as ever. I felt a little calmer. I hadn’t talked with Anwir much before now, but his casual demeanor helped put me at ease. I expected something different from the leader of one of the world’s most powerful organizations, especially one with such a great and important task.

“I have a meeting to get to,” the silverlord said, “Meet me in my office in an hour, and we can discuss your future role in the Silver Order.”

“Of course, my lord.”

My sister Terrana didn’t get a work break for a couple of hours so I had to talk to her while she was preparing meals in the kitchen. Terrana had dark skin like me and her hair was kept behind her head in a puff.

“And he was surprisingly nice. I expected him to be cold and stoic like the honor guards, but he’s not,” I said as I chopped some onions for her, ignoring the sting it brought to my eyes.

“I know what you mean about the honor guards,” Terrana said as she rushed over to stop a kettle of stew from boiling, “I serve them meals like everyone else, and every time I try to get a reaction. Every time: nothing. Watch.”

An honor guard was just coming up to the long rectangle opening in the wall between the dining hall and the kitchen. Terrana handed him a plate with a bowl of stew, an apple, and a piece of bread on it.

She gasped in horror and pointed behind the truesilver knight, saying, “Oh no! There’s a whisperwing behind you!”

The honor guard didn’t even turn around. They just took the plate, grabbed a spoon, and walked out of the dining hall. I imagined they ate alone, as honor guard helmets didn’t have openings for mouths and they never showed their faces in the presence of others. 

“A whisperwing? Really?” I asked, “It’s noon. They get their powers from the night itself. And this place is coated in truesilver, no one with the wer curse could get in. Furthermore, whisperwings generally prefer ambushes as opposed to sneaking up on targets from behind, that being-”

Terrana rolled her eyes and cut me off, saying, “No need to show off your knowledge of owl people Rosie, I was there when you would stay up all night studying. And I’ve already used up all my realistic lies trying to get reactions”

I returned to the task of chopping onions. A thought came to me. “Hey, Terrana, I need to ask Silverlord Anwir some health questions soon, do you know what his meals typically are is?”

“Nah, they don’t trust me to make his food,” said Terrana, “Top security and all that. Either he makes his food himself or has a personal cook.” She began to snicker at that. “Imagine if one of the honor guards made him food.” She put on a pair of oven mitts and an apron and made her face perfectly blank, saying in monotone, “Silverlord, here is the pie you requested. Apple, your favorite. I made it with extra love. Make sure to eat it all, you are skin and bones. A growing boy needs his food.” Then she cracked up and I chuckled a bit too.

Terrana’s eyes widened with urgency and she said in her normal voice, “Oh wait, I’ve got an actual pie about to burn”, and rushed off.

I waited patiently for my sister to return. “You know,” she said, “You shouldn’t always be so focused on work. Celebrate a little. You're officially a resident of the Silver Order headquarters now! You took the oath! I mean, I got in before you, but whatever. I’m your older sister, you being in my shadow comes naturally.”

“I’m a doctor and researcher. You make sandwiches,” I said, taking special care to keep my tone light.

Terrana paused for a second as she held a meat cleaver, about to chop up some sausages. Over her shoulder she said, “I know how to make a body disappear you know. Just saying.”

“Well with the amount of sugar you put into those pies, you can certainly make body shapes disappear,” I said drily.

I dodged an orange as it sailed towards my head. “Go to the library and do nerdy stuff,” said Terrana.

I picked up the orange and began peeling it while walking away, saying, “I was actually on my way there now. I have some research to do on the silverlord.”

Chapter 2: The Lord of Dragons

Fen

Moving a millimeter at a time, I dipped my brush into the indigo paint, lifted it up, and began tracing a path on the paper. Then the door to my chambers opened and my hand jerked across the page and I fell out of my chair. In an instant I shifted to my typical hybrid form, scales racing across my skin, a tail forming, and my features taking on a much more reptilian nature overall. I remained bipedal and roughly human in size with opposable thumbs.

I glared at the dragon who had burst into my room, Baethan. He was in a similar hybrid form, coated in the gray scales of a komodo dragon with a long tail swinging behind him. I got up from my position on the floor as gracefully as I could. “What did you see?” I asked. I prayed to the Cycle that he hadn't had time to register my human form.

“I saw a blur of movement, then you standing up,” said the dragon, confused. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“How many times have I told you to knock before entering my room?” I asked.

Baethan seemed to think. “Never,” he answered, “Once, counting just now, but that wasn’t really you directly telling me.”

I pinched the point on my face that ordinarily would have been my nose if I didn’t have a reptilian head. “Well, knock. You nearly scared me to death. I mean look at this!” I gestured to the watercolor painting I had been working on. A wild streak of indigo veered away from the rest of the illustration.

“Sorry, Lord Fen,” Baethan responded mechanically. He looked at the paper and tilted his head at it. “What is it?”

“It wasn’t really anything,” I said, cleaning up the small amount of paint that had gotten on the table and dipping the brush in water to clean it of paint. “It was an abstract painting. A kaleidoscope of brilliant hues and colors that doesn’t directly resemble anything in reality.” I held up the painting and looked at it. The indigo streak actually gave it a little variety. It caught the eye and gave the piece passion. “It actually looks better now,” I commented, “Thank you Baethan. But knock in the future.”

“I live to serve the dragon council, Lord Fen,” responded the guard, his voice monotone. I didn’t much like Baethan. But he was the easiest to bribe and among the most commonly used servants of the high dragon council, and giving him a personal salary of twice what he was otherwise paid had proved a few different times to be a worthy investment.

“Why did you barge in here in the first place?” I asked.

“Speaker Nathara sent me to tell you that you are late to the morning meeting,” he reported.

“Is it nine already?” I asked. Looking outside I noted that, sure enough, the sun was about a quarter of the way across the sky. With my solar wer affinity, I could usually tell what time of day it was, but I had become so focused on my painting I hadn’t checked.

“Are you coming, my lord?” asked Baethan.

“Nothing happens in the morning meetings anyways, and I don’t want to spend any more time in Nathara’s presence than I have to,” I said, “You can go tell her she can jump from a balcony for all I care.”

Baethan nodded and turned around. He had a tendency to take my personal musings a bit too literally. “Don’t actually tell her that!” I yelped, and he stopped and turned back around. “What you should actually tell her is that I’m terribly sick, and can’t come. But with the morning light, I should regenerate and be ready to attend the afternoon meeting.”

He nodded again and went to deliver my message. I closed the door behind him. I sat down at my table and looked at my work for a few more seconds. Inspired by the indigo, I added a few wild splotches of lime for contrast. I was satisfied enough, so I took the painting and clipped it to a piece of string that ran across my room above my desk. When it dried, I’d add it to the horde of personal art pieces that coated my walls. None of them were particularly good, but I liked the vibrant color they provided, illuminated by my room's many windows.

I realized that if it was past eight, she would be arriving shortly. I wrapped my tail around a nearby spyglass and opened one of my windows. I crawled out of it and up the wall with ease. No other wer could match my climbing prowess. When I finally reached the roof of my section of the Scalehome fortress, I laid down and breathed. Climbing was tiring, even for me. I didn’t get enough exercise though, so it was probably good for me.

The sun shone down on my scales and I stretched, letting it warm me and replenish my magic. I checked to make sure there was no one around, and of course there wasn’t. I let myself return to human form, my scales fading into ordinary skin, and my tail disappearing. Because of this, nothing was holding my spyglass and it gently rolled towards the edge of the roof. I managed to grab it before it fell off.

I looked at the golden and green farm fields. Dragon farmers used their magic to intensify the sunlight’s energy radiating down to the crops, producing unusually good yields. Beyond that was a forest, the Wer Wood, a mix of bright emerald and brown shadow. On the left, I saw the tall trees of the whisperwing domain and their thick foliage, providing darkness and cover for the wer-owls. On the left were the shorter trees of the lycan domain, and more sunlight managed to get through their leaves, nourishing plants below that fed the lycans and the deer they hunted. It always struck me as odd how perfectly designed the Wer Wood was for the different wer clans’ needs. Like it was engineered.

I scanned the trees at the edge of the whisperwing domain. She wasn’t exactly consistent, but she typically kept to a rough schedule. Several times I spotted movement, but it usually proved to be just animals. Then I saw something else, so small I almost missed it. I took out my spyglass and pointed it at the figure. It took me a while to calibrate the spyglass and get it at exactly the right position, but finally I had it trained on the woman. She was pale and had blond hair cut short. She wore leather armor and had a bow and arrow slung over her shoulder. The woman had her own spyglass, and she slowly surveyed the dragon refuge of Scalehome and the surrounding fields.

I’d first seen her a few weeks before. At first I’d thought she was one of the “owl hunters” who patrolled the whisperwing domain, looking for their hidden village. Then, when she appeared regularly, I suspected she was an inquisitor from the Silver Order scouting. But I never saw the soft glow of truesilver on her. I’d asked around about her description, curious. One of the guards who had formerly been a soldier fighting the whisperwings had recognized my account of the woman’s appearance. Apparently she was Kacela, captain of the whisperwing wardens, deadly archer, and fierce strategist. They said she was one of the greatest warriors the whisperwings had, second only to the even more infamous Night Queen. I probably should have reported her regular activity so we could set up an ambush, but from what I’d heard of her that wouldn’t have worked. And I’d never seen her do anything aggressive. She just seemed to be checking whether or not we were sending an army at the domain she was supposed to protect. I couldn’t fault Kacela for that. And frankly, I didn’t have much motivation to further conflict between the wer clans. I found the whole war rather stupid.

She had also seen me a few times, and I could tell her spyglass was going to my usual spot. Out of reflex, I shifted to my hybrid form. I didn’t know how well she could see through that thing, and she probably didn’t know who I was, but turning reptilian when people looked was an old habit of mine that did not disappear easily. I stood up and did as exaggerated a wave as possible, so she could see it. Then I checked my own spyglass. I couldn’t be sure, but she looked like she was chuckling, which made me smile. Despite my absolutely enchanting and divine personality, I didn’t have a lot of friends.

Kacela finished her assessment of Scalehome and seemed to find nothing alarming. She gave an equally intense wave back and in an instant disappeared once more into the shadows of the forest. I had no idea how she did it so quickly.

I decided I wanted to stay on the roof a bit longer. Shielding my eyes, I looked up at the sun, then at the moon, visible even in the day sky. It was about two and a half months until the two aligned. It would be a rather ugly sight if the wer clans were still at war. I prayed with all the strength I had to the Cycle that something happened to save us before then.

Chapter 3: Questions

Nemros

I was on a chair in front of the silverlord’s desk, while Anwir sat behind it, drumming his fingers. There were a couple of honor guards in the room, as Anwir’s bodyguards. He had assured me that I could speak plainly around them. 

“On average, how many hours of sleep do you get a night?” I asked.

“On a good night, maybe seven hours. Work has a tendency to keep me busy.”

I made a note of it on my clipboard and said, “Alright, that’s not ideal, but it seems fine enough,” pushing aside the thought that I often got less sleep than that, staying up reading.

I continued to question Anwir, and his answers indicated that he was fairly healthy on the whole, he ate well, but didn’t exercise quite enough. It seemed the silverlord got sick uncommonly often, which implied a weak immune system. But he didn’t ingest or use any harmful substances.

Anwir was, according to the records, at the age of fifty-two. Yet he appeared at least a decade older. I’d tried to find something about it in his family history but I didn’t see any hereditary diseases or conditions. The only remotely useful thing I found was that his grandfather, the founder of the Silver Order, also reportedly had quite frail health for his age, and died at the age of fifty-nine from health conditions, despite the fact he was a fairly rich man who, as far as I could tell in the records, lived a healthy lifestyle. I had also noticed a few discrepancies in the records, dates that didn’t seem to quite match up.

I chose my words carefully, as I didn’t want to get fired on my first day on the job. “Lord Anwir, with all possible due respect, you logically should be in near perfect health but your apparent physical condition, well, disagrees.”

“The stress of work certainly does gray one’s hair, doesn’t it?” the silverlord commented, running a hand through his hair. He maintained his relaxed air and slight smile.

“Sir, this is more than that. I am your physician, and you can trust me with whatever personal secrets. Are you actually older than the records say?”

Anwir’s hand seemed to freeze for a second, then continued drumming along the desk. “I assure you, I am no older than the records indicate,” he said, “I know there are certain errors with dates in the records, and I have intended to fix them for quite some time, but I’ve always been distracted by this or that important crisis and forgotten about it. Nothing to worry about.”

“Well, your condition relative to age is still unusual,” I said, “Silverlord, are there any irregular health habits you practice, substances you ingest, or dangerous materials you might be regularly exposed to you haven’t told me about?” As I finished saying the question, my eyes involuntarily looked at the glow radiating from the honor guards’ armor. Was it possible that it in some way gave off an unhealthy radiation? But the honor guards were healthy, skilled warriors, the truesilver hadn’t hurt them. No one knew what the process was for making truesilver, it might be possible it created some sort of toxic waste that negatively affected the silverlord. I decided to consider that more later.

Anwir seemed to be thinking. Finally he said, “I take a nightly elixir, which I brew myself. It helps me fall asleep, in addition to being good for my health. But I find it unlikely this is the root cause of my condition.”

But this seemed to be one of the best leads I had, so I politely said, “I’m sure, Silverlord Anwir, but I would still like to see this elixir myself. Also I’d like a list of ingredients if you could.”

After a careful pause, Anwir got up from his seat and walked through a door in the back of his office and closed it behind him, leaving me alone with the honor guards. They might as well have been statues, but I could tell that the eyes behind those glowing helmets were watching me.

Anwir returned with an unlabeled blue glass bottle, as well as a small glass cup. I was going to nervously make some joke about hiding wine in a medicine bottle, but the silent gaze of the honor guards stopped me.

He poured some of the medicine into the glass and pushed it towards me, “Observe for yourself. It’s harmless.”

I wasn’t sure what I could find out about the medicine without the right equipment, but I picked it up and looked closely at it, sloshing it around in the cup. I noticed that it was oddly reflective. I cupped my hands around the top of the cup, blocking out the light and peered very closely. The liquid was glowing slightly. “This has truesilver in it,” I said in surprise

Anwir’s face was passive as he said, “It does indeed, in addition to a mixture of herbs and other ingredients.”

My mind was buzzing with the possible ramifications of this. “My lord, we don’t know how truesilver reacts with the digestive system of a human.”

“It is a necessary safety precaution,” said Anwir, “The regular consumption of truesilver makes one immune to being turned by a wer. Truesilver is valuable enough that this cannot be done for most. But if I were ever turned, it would be catastrophic for the Order and its morale. So I consume truesilver in my medicine to avoid that terrible eventuality. Besides, it’s not that different than a treatment given to many of the werfolk in our monasteries. I was under the impression you knew this.”

I had worked in the monasteries, though my job had been making sure newly arrived werfolk survived so they could be rehabilitated, not the actual rehabilitation itself. One of the means used to suppress the werfolk’s dark powers was feeding them a concoction with truesilver in it. “I have said before that I find that treatment to be harsh,” I responded, “And it is only used on wer who try to shift and kill those around them. It’s painful and unhealthy, but it's the best short term solution until they can be properly contained by truesilver outside their body.”

“Well, yes,” said Anwir, “It can be uncomfortable for a wer, but to a human, truesilver actually has very minor revitalizing properties, when ingested in the right amounts.”

I had been a doctor for many years, and worked around truesilver for some time, and I had never noticed anything like that. It could repress the dark magic of the wer, helping them lead a healthier life, but it had no special effect on humans that I knew of. “My lord, for a moment, I beg we put aside the more mystical aspects of this and focus purely on the practical. I am a physician, not a philosopher or magician. Humans can only ingest very small amounts of metal, and it has to be processed by some other organic creature, such as the iron in certain meats. But not only is truesilver unprocessed and undiluted by nature, we have no biological need for it, and so logically wouldn’t be able to properly digest it. Furthermore, truesilver is nearly indestructible, so it might be impossible to digest at all. This may well contribute to your condition. You say it is to safeguard against the eventuality of being turned, but I think it would be better for you to increase your personal security than to drink a substance we don’t know the health properties of.”

The silverlord gave me a stare more intimidating than the honor guards. With a voice as hard and cold as the divine metal, Anwir said, “You have admitted to knowing little about the mystical and divine. I appreciate your help, but this is a matter beyond your expertise. Leave it alone.”

With some hesitation, I bowed my head and said “Of course, silverlord.”

Anwir’s gaze and expression softened, and in an instant I was facing the gentle man who you could imagine playing with his grandkids once again. “Is there anything else?” he asked.

“No sir,” I said, “That is all.”

“Good,” said Anwir, “I have somewhere I need to be. The ritual for making truesilver, as a matter of fact. If you are curious, you are welcome to come along.”

“I would very much like that, my lord. If the elixir isn’t the cause, I was considering following up on a few other theories, and the truesilver making ritual was one of them,” I said, making sure not to show disrespect.

Anwir smiled a bit and said, “You know, it’s a shame you chose to be a doctor. You would have made an excellent inquisitor.”

“Uh, thank you my lord,” I said, “I, like most, am not familiar with the process for making truesilver. One of my theories is that it might create some kind of waste as a byproduct that is bad for your health.”

Anwir seemed to think. “Well then, follow me and observe.”

The silverlord got up from his desk and exited his office, through a different door this time. I followed behind him, and the honor guards followed close behind me. Anwir talked as he strode along stone hallways I had never seen before, “You are a man who focuses quite intensely on the physical and scientific aspects of reality. So I am going to ask that you withhold your questions about what you will soon witness. No ‘how does that work’ or ‘how is this possible’, understood?”

“Yes, my lord,” I said. I tapped my pencil against my clipboard excitedly. I would soon see how truesilver was made. Throughout history, truesilver had existed, but there was a sudden and dramatic surge of it about sixty years ago, when the Silver Order was founded. It was essentially their one advantage against the wer clans, as the cursed ones could regenerate from most wounds that were not immediately fatal, except those caused by the divine metal.

Finally we reached a large pair of double doors which Anwir pushed open. I softly gasped. Inside was a truly massive circular chamber, about a hundred and fifty feet across, illuminated by torches and truesilver. Dominating most of the room was a large chipped stone circular platform of sorts, a few feet tall, and a hundred feet in diameter. Carved into the platform was a circle. I couldn’t explain it but something about that great stone platform seemed… old. Older than the entire rest of the headquarters. I tried to work it out in my head, and this room seemed like it was in the middle of the headquarters, and I knew we were on the bottom floor. There was the strange sense that this entire building had been built around this single object.

There were three long lines of truesilver embedded in the rock, running across the circle carved into the stone, parallel to each other. There was another truesilver line that ran across the platform, perpendicular to the other three. A circle with three lines running from the upper left to lower right, and another line running from the upper right to the lower left. The symbol of the Silver Order.

From other doors, other people entered. I recognized a couple of them from around the headquarters. They were all high-ranking. One of them was a tan woman with black hair in a ponytail. The moment her eyes rested on me, she glared and strode towards Anwir. But at a glance from the silverlord, she stopped and turned away, annoyed.

“Stay here and don’t say anything,” said Anwir, walking towards the stone platform.

So I stood still next to the two honor guards and silently observed. One of the doors opened to reveal five honor guards carrying metal weapons and armor, as well as a few other objects like rings and chains, all made from ordinary metal.

The honor guards climbed onto the platform and carefully set the objects down on the stone inside the circle. I noticed every object had at least part of it lying across the lines of truesilver. I counted five knives, a couple axes and a spear, as well as a set of chainmail armor, a length of chain, and three rings.

The honor guards stepped off the platform and retreated to the edge of the room.

The Silver Order leaders gathered in a circle around the stone, and each of them took out a small piece of rock, similar to the one Anwir had on his necklace, which the silverlord had now wrapped a hand around.

The figures stood perfectly still for a moment. Then they began to chant, in whispering voices. I couldn’t make out the words and was going to walk closer, but an honor guard laid a hand on my shoulder and moved me back slightly, saying nothing.

As the chant continued, I noticed the lines of truesilver in the stone begin to glow brighter and brighter, casting shadows around the room. Before long, it was almost too bright to look at. The metal objects on the stone were shining with the same light. After about ten seconds of blinding radiance, the light slowly faded, returning to the lesser glow truesilver usually had, and all of the metal on the objects inside the circle were now truesilver. I had heard it was a requirement that the metal be normal silver first, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

Then the chanting stopped, and there was only silence.

The honor guards gathered up the new truesilver objects and exited the room. The gathered leaders of the Silver Order hid their stones once more and walked out of the large chamber, the woman with black hair giving me one final glare.

Anwir silently walked back through the doors we came in through, and gestured for the honor guards and I to follow. As he strode through the stone halls, he said, “So does that answer your questions?”

I had been so entranced by the truesilver ceremony I had forgotten my original reason for seeing it. There didn’t seem like there was any kind of physical residue that could be bad for Anwir, and the other members of the strange ritual all seemed to be in good health.

“I do have one question, my lord. The woman with the black hair who glared at me, how long has she performed the ritual?” I asked. I had gotten the best look at her of everyone there, and she seemed to be in excellent physical condition from what I could observe.

“Her name is Morana,” said Anwir, “She commands the Honor Guard, and the martial aspects of our war with the werfolk. Don’t mind her glares, she just takes some time to warm up to people. And she has been in her position, and so has been part of the ritual, for about eight years. I can guess your next question. I have been part of the ritual for twenty years.”

It seemed unlikely that she wouldn't seem to exhibit any of Anwir’s characteristics if the ritual was the cause of his condition. But as I was about to respond, something about what he said registered in my brain and I did a quick calculation. “My lord… if you’ve been doing it for twenty years, then you started doing the ritual when you were thirty-two. But you became the leader of the Order when you were twenty three. And it seems like it's the leaders who do the ritual, so you would have been the leader of the Silver Order for nine years and not participated in the ritual.”

Anwir stopped walking. “Perceptive aren’t you,” he murmured. A moment later, he said, “Well, it's a delicate ritual, so I was training for it for quite some time. My father, the former leader of the Order, did the task for me until I mastered it. So twenty years since I began to truly perform in the ritual, but thirty since I began training.”

I tried to remember more facts and did more math, and eventually I arrived at a conclusion. “But your father died when you were twenty-nine, leaving two years unaccounted for. And if it takes nine years of training, which seems odd given it seems to just involve a carefully memorized chant, then why can Morana participate when she’s only been in her position eight years? And if she trained for the ritual before gaining the position that doesn’t make sense either because this seems to be kept secret and wouldn’t you also have learned it before, as you were born to one day take on this role?”

Anwir stared at me blankly and blinked for a few seconds. Then he began laughing and said, “My inquisitors could learn a thing or two from you. But as I mentioned before, the records have quite a few mistakes when it comes to precise details. And I think I got a few years wrong in my answers. You shouldn’t concern yourself too much with these things.”

But Anwir never really answered all of my questions.