Life in the Kingdom of Mavinor had long been lived by the precepts of a set of holy documents known as The Scrolls. The Scrolls provided a set of rules and principles setting forth how the people of Mavinor should live their lives and had been written a long time in the past by men believed to be inspired by a deity known as The Author.
In these latter times, the people of Mavinor have begun to turn away from the precepts contained in The Scrolls. When they were attacked by the army of the neighboring kingdom of Xamnon, every copy of The Scrolls was destroyed. The content lived on in the minds only of those who had taken pains to learn it. This knowledge was passed down from one generation to the next, but over time, fewer and fewer remembered. The effort to rewrite them continues, but the task is incomplete in the time of the reign of King Onestus…a time when the king finds that he needs their guidance more than ever.
The sun rose slowly over the mountains in the east, its rays of light trickling down onto the surface of the sea directly south of Mavinor. They crawled across the sand of the shoreline and angled up the walls of Mavinor’s majestic palace, sending light glittering along the mica-chipped surface of the stone. From a distance, the city appeared to rise from the sand and shadows like a mirage, shimmering in the heat of the new day.
From where Onestus lay, however, the warmth seemed a thousand miles away. He rested on a pile of pillows that somehow failed to prevent the aching in his bones; he was tucked in beneath a pile of soft furs and blankets that failed equally against the chill of the early morning air. He stared out the window, dreading the moment when he’d have to slide his legs over the side of the bed, entrust himself to servants, and dress for the day.
Onestus was a tall man, broad of shoulder and thick boned. His hair, once a magnificent dark mane, had mostly turned to gray. His eyes, still sharp and filled with life, were the focus of a weakened visage. They diverted attention from his failing body to his active mind and aided him with the illusion of health he sought to weave.