"To save you?" Jasper squinted suspiciously at the woman. He wasn't sure how many centuries had passed since Iltabrīt's final days, but since Qas̆pûl had survived the intervening era, he supposed it wasn't impossible the woman before him was also a survivor. But why had Qas̆pûl stayed behind to protect her? Just who was she?

He flinched as the woman reached over and plunged her hand down his shirt. "Uh-"

Her hand reemerged a moment later, dragging the necklace with it that glimmered in the light of the fire. The old woman's eyes were dewy as she studied the silver chain, rubbing her thumb up and down the tear-shaped sapphire dangling at its end. "I never thought I'd see this again. But to see it this way must mean…" She smiled sadly. "How did he die?"

Jasper searched for the right words. It was obvious the woman had cared about the Fey lord and he didn't wish to burden her with the truth of his insanity. "He died…a warrior's death," he replied carefully.

But the old woman was not deceived. Clutching the necklace tighter, she pulled him forward, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Please, just tell me the truth. I know his fate was not kind but after all these years of wondering…not knowing is worse."

"Lord Qas̆pûl had cemented himself as a leader of those who remained in the city," Jasper slowly replied. "I'm unsure how many there were, a few thousand perhaps, maybe more, centered around the fortress of Birat-S̆ahor. We were fortunate enough to avoid fighting most of them when we escaped, but we couldn't avoid them all. Qas̆pûl and a hundred of his men were waiting for us when we reached the fortress, barring the only exit. We had to fight our way out; there was no other way. I'm sorry, Lady Tahanat," he added, having guessed her identity.

"Ah, so you recognized beneath all the wrinkles. Not quite how you remembered me looking I suppose," her lips twisted wryly, "but old age spares none."

"I remembered the necklace," Jasper unfastened it and held it out to her. "That's why I took it. In truth, I never expected to find you still alive, but I was hoping I'd find someone from the city who had survived, someone like your grandson," he explained.

Her fingers, bent with arthritis, fumbled with the clasp, and he helped her put it on. "Was he one of them," she asked again.

"Them?"

"The knockers; those who stepped through the door."

Jasper winced. "He was…raving about a door. When we first met him, he claimed he had refused to answer the 'door' for centuries just so he could take his revenge on us. When he opened it, it seemed to make him stronger."

"Oh, Qas̆pûl…" Grief flooded the old woman's face. "Why make yourself live through that…" she murmured.

Jasper shifted uncomfortably on the bench, his curiosity warring with his sense of decency. Finally, he decided to broach the question. "Forgive me if this is too personal, but what happened in Iltabrīt? What was up with all those mummies? And who are the knockers?"

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she fingered the necklace, staring silently at the fire, and Jasper regretted indulging his curiosity.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No," Tahanat interrupted him. "Without your aid, I would be dead and our goddess would still be trapped in that cursed city. You have every right to know." Despite her words, her voice was thick with emotion as she continued.

"You should have seen Iltabrīt before the fall. 'The City of Wonders,' they called it. You probably didn't get to see the Cliffs of Amnakku, to sail the sea and see the Isle of Lallāru, or any other of the many natural marvels that made our city one of the greatest in the realms."

"Iltabrīt was perfectly placed to thrive. For those merchants able to afford it, our portals provided an easy way to skip the Abulmaḫḫu Mountains, shortening travel time between the capital and the western provinces by months. Even without any resources of its own, the city would have prospered, but our mines were laden with precious gems, expertly carved and enchanted by the priests of Bēlet-Imtu."

"So what happened?" Jasper asked.

"War," she replied simply. "I assume you're familiar with the Fey wars?"

"Vaguely," Jasper agreed. "I know it was a series of wars that devastated the southern third of the Empire before the Fey were eventually pushed back and destroyed in turn, but I'm not familiar with the details."

"The wars were a travesty," Tahanat sighed. "Despite the millennia of peace between our peoples, Taks̆ulatar, lord of the Ya'ari, had long grown envious of the Empire's power. After the Empire was weakened by its war against Gemlir's people, he saw a chance to strike."

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"He whipped the other Fey races into a frenzy, claiming that it was the Corsyths' fault that our magic was weakening. He convinced them that now was their chance to reclaim the southern lands 'stolen' from us and wipe out the 'leeches.'"

"Was there any truth to that?" Jasper interrupted.

Tahanat pursed her lips. "A little," she admitted reluctantly. "Unlike the races created by the gods, Corsyths do not have a separate pool of essence set aside to power their magic. Instead, they drew upon the magic of their ancestors, be they elves, Fey, or even durgū. Their reckless use of magic in the Desolyton may have contributed slightly to our decline, but make no mistake: Taks̆ulatar was fueled by greed for the Empire's resources, not true concern for his people. And, in the end, it was the war he started that hastened our demise, not the Corsyths' struggle against Gemlir."

"While technically, each tribe of Fey is independent, the Ya'ari have always ruled from the shadows. Taks̆ulatar got his war, and when the Fey marched north, every tribe was represented save two: the satyrs and the Children of St. Martin. No one expected the satyrs, who lived far to the west and dwelt among the durgū, to join the war but we were another matter."

"Unlike the rest, we had no quarrel with the Empire. Our lands did not overlap, nor did we desire to go to war with our richest trading partner, so, despite the Ya'ari's imperious summons, we stayed out of the conflict. Though Taks̆ulatar was enraged by our refusal to join his folly, he was too distracted by the war at first to do anything about it, but after his apparent victory at the end of the first Fey war, the lord of the Ya'ari plotted his revenge."

"Supposedly, Taks̆ulatar decreed that since we refused to go to war, he would bring the war to us. He bartered with a dark god, one whose name we have never been able to discover, to cast a curse on us. He wished to punish us for our 'disobedience,' but the fool was again deceived," she said bitterly, "For not even he intended what followed."

"Iltabrīt was one of the first cities affected by the madness. It started slow. A few individuals complained of hearing 'knocking' in their mind, as if someone was knocking on an unseen door. The knocking progressed until a door manifested in their mind and, desperate to get rid of the knocking, they opened it."

"Perhaps if we had acted faster, we could have nipped it off in the bud, but we didn't recognize the danger that the strange affliction posed at first. No one knew then what Taks̆ulatar had done, so we could only judge the phenomena by its results. When those affected by the knocking finally opened the door, they became more powerful, receiving spells and magical affinities that none of their ancestors could perform and sharpening their minds. Many began to believe that it was a blessing."

"It had already spread widely amongst our people before we realized the truth. Those who opened the door ceased to care about their family and friends. They became cold and cruel, ever grasping for power and seeking violence, as they slowly slipped into madness."

"Thousands fled the city as Iltabrīt descended into civil war while our scholars and priests searched for a cure. It took two years for them to find something, two years that saw half our city flee or perish, but we held out, believing we would reap the rewards once the crisis was averted."

"But their research was flawed. Unbeknownst to us, many of the researchers had fallen prey to the madness, twisting their work to a different purpose. The 'cure' they gave us killed those who took it, raising them as the undead that now swarm the city. It was then we knew that Iltabrīt was lost."

"Damn," Jasper whistled. "I hope this Taks̆ulatar got his comeuppance. There's one thing I don't get, though - why were you planning to kill yourself in the first place? Why not flee the city?"

"Once someone heard the knocking in their mind, their fate was already sealed," Tahanat explained. "To this day, the Children of St. Martin have not found a cure for the curse. But, we came to realize that it spread like a disease, requiring contact between the afflicted and the unafflicted. None of us knew for sure if we were safe or if we had already been infected and the elders decided it was better to kill us all than to risk spreading it further."

"It was…a reasonable decision with what we knew," Tahanat conceded reluctantly, "but it was too much to ask. No one wanted to die like that, and all it took was the slightest spark of hope - you - for the plan to fall apart."

"So our actions caused the disease to spread further?" Jasper asked with dread, but she shook her head.

"It turned out not to matter. While the curse spreads by contact, it is also able to pop up on its own. Many Fey realms cut themselves off completely from all outside contact when hearing of Iltabrīt's fall, but it did not save them. The curse struck every one of our gilded cities, devastating the population and leading to the fall of several others. Fortunately, some of the cities learned from our mistakes. By ruthlessly purging any who were afflicted, they managed to survive, albeit in a humbled condition, although, even now, the curse remains a thorn in our side, as it occasionally reappears in populations that should be safe."

"So Taks̆ulatar almost wiped out your people."

"He will get his comeuppance," she spat angrily. "Barely a third of his realm survived the final Fey war, and the Ḫuedar have grown restless. We shall soon see if he is as immortal as he claims, but…" She visibly swallowed her anger, smoothing down the lines of her dress before she continued. "I did not seek you out tonight to discuss Taks̆ulatar's folly."

"You want the statue?" Jasper surmised.

"Obviously," Tahanat agreed. "I failed my duty that day; I should have taken her with me, but I didn't think there was time to break the binding spell. But now," she smiled sadly, "now our goddess can be restored to her people."

While Jasper wanted to hand the statue right over, he stayed his hand, uncertainty gnawing at his mind. "I'm sorry to have to ask this, but do you have a temple here? I know I didn't explore the whole village, but…it seems too small to be hiding a temple. I'd love nothing more than to return Bēlet-Imtu to her people but, unfortunately, the quest the goddess gave me specifies that I have to return the statue to a temple to complete it."

Surprisingly Tahanat didn't seem upset. "You've seen the village," she agreed, "but you haven't seen the city."

"City?" Jasper raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "I know I'm not the most observant, but I'm pretty sure I would have noticed a city."

"Not if it was underground," she replied smugly. "The temple of Bēlet-Imtu awaits its goddess, Lord Yas̆peh. Come find me tomorrow, and I shall take you there."

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