A Chance Encounter In The Crosseye Tavern

The aged Iaché sits huddled in his pale robes by the fire, seemingly unable to warm himself. He clutches close his cup of wine as it sparkles and glistens red as blood in the ruddy glow of the hearth. Taking another sip, he pulls his robes tighter around his emaciated form and shivers. You cannot ever recall having seen an Iaché that looked so old, and considering the longevity of his race he must be ancient indeed.

As you sit nearby, he glances up, the firelight reflecting off his bald pate and striking glints from the depths of his eyes. His frame may be marked by many, many winters but his gaze is as bright and clear as ever, almost breathtaking in its piercing intensity. You sense an intelligence of razor sharpness hiding behind that ancient furrowed brow.

"Have you heard?" he asks. "Have you heard the madness they are talking in the streets of late?"

You shake your head, uncertain of what he is talking about. Unwilling to meet his gaze, your eyes rove his attire, taking in the rich fabric, the Elementalist runes and sigils embroidered in gold thread. He continues talking, seemingly indifferent as to whether or not anyone is actually listening to his diatribe.

"Beware the number five. Five is a number containing the potential for great danger, the number of discord and chaos. Five fingers you say? No, four fingers, four for the four base Elements, and a thumb to combine them in unity and keep their unbalance in check. For in Elemental terms four is two too short, and hence must needs be watched with care and well warded. All know the mischief four fingers can get up to when not kept under control."

"Yet at least four is constructed of two dynamic polarities, each a balance in itself, and together balancing each other in a fashion. Less stable by far than the full Elemental sextet, but far less dangerous than five. When five Elements are present, but the sixth is lacking, then pray, pray to all the deities and dæmons that you know of, yea and even the Elementals, they too, for they know balance when they see it, pray I tell you for the mercy of a mere four Elements."

"Consider the Spirits. You may not know the details, unless you have studied in the Lorewarden's Guild or listened closely to their sermons, but there are three factions of Spirits. Ever the Fellowship of the Heavenly Road and the Court of the Eternal Wheel oppose each other in their struggles to gain power in this realm, and their dynamic polarity is kept in balance by the Natural Spirits. I may not be a Lorewarden, but even i have picked up that much in my time. A triad, you see?"

He looks up at you, and you nod hastily, uncertain as to precisely what he is getting at, but unwilling to evoke his displeasure. He shakes his head wearily, takes another sip of his wine, and continues...

"Three is the most stable of all numbers. One alone has no support, and two are vulnerable to unbalance in the forces between them, and more vulnerable still to external influences. But three, ah, three can stand against anything. Some see the Elements as a pair of triads, the upper triad of Air, Fire and Light and the lower triad of Earth, Water and Shadow. Both in a continually revolving dynamic equilibrium, ever changing yet ever the same, like the aleth-ileth..."

He seems to sense your sudden confusion at the introduction of this unknown Iaché word, and raising his left index finger he sketches a living pattern of ice-blue fire in the air between you, that flares brightly for a moment before fading like a swiftly dying ember. You are left with the fleeting impression of a circle, split into two halves that swirl around and around, simultaneously chasing and fleeing each other, yet each containing a seed of the opposing half.
The conversation in the rest of the tavern continues unabated, seemingly used to this kind of behaviour, or maybe against the flames of the hearth they just didn't notice, and he continues with his lesson,

"...with its eternal opposition in unity and unity in opposition. Others see the Elements as a triad of dynamic polarities, Earth and Air, Fire and Water, Shadow and Light, each pair in harmony with the others, and the three pairs together correcting any unbalance in any individual dichotomy."

He pauses a second, and you think you catch the hint of a twinkle in his eye.

"Myself? Well, those of us who have studied these matters deeply, and I have studied them for many, many years,"
He sighs, as if contemplating all the lost summers of his past, and for a moment his age seems to weigh heavy on his shoulders. Yet the fire in his eyes remains undimmed, and a hint of it catches in his voice,
"We know that both are true. A dichotomy of triads, and a triad of dichotomies. Always in dynamic equilibrium, and yet twice balanced, harmony incarnate in the forces of the universe."

"Yet if one of those six Elements is scorned, oh, the tragedy which will ensue! It would be as like a man chopping off his own foot and then trying to run, or tearing out his eyes and then trying to fire a bow. Yet worse, far worse than that, for the disaster that follows will engulf not only the one who commits the unbalance. The disharmony will spread to the very Elements of the area around him, and will infect those he meets, until all are caught up in the spread of the dire contagion. These tales I hear worry me. Perhaps this is the true reason behind the rumours of terror and destruction from the North."

He stares into the fire, as if seeing deep within its flames the sack of cities and the burning of corpses.

"I worry, my child, sometimes I worry so much..."