““The Whisper Rings are a magical means of conveying information over great distance, developed long before the formation of either Skrande or Corsinthia, that utilize the natural inconsistencies found within the winds that blow across the entirety of the world of Theria. Any words spoken into one of these famous rings, which in actuality are large enough such that they might more appropriately be called bracelets, will be magically sent through the skies to a chosen whisper ring elsewhere as a message encoded in the fluctuations of the breeze. As the motion of any given gust is neither consistent in texture, nor speed, it becomes nigh on impossible for any given third party to differentiate between winds containing within themself a secret message from those that have none at all. Furthermore, even if wind containing a secret message could be identified, without possessing a ring properly tuned such that it mimicked the actually intended target ring, the interloping group would be able to derive nothing meaningful from the magically encased information passing them by.

All of this being said, interference from over powering other winds during times of storms have been known to muddle – or sometimes even obliterate entirely – the clarity of the message obtained on the receiving end.”

- Excerpt from the Encyclopedia Corsinthia

Chapter 9: “The Glein Empire”

The somewhat small room that Miran Via led the two wandering swordsmen to apparently, from a quick cursory glance of its contents, served as the great Corsinthian Sage’s place of study and research. Thickly lining all three of the walls that opposed the location’s only entrance were tightly packed shelves filled to the brim with books and tomes of various shapes and sizes, and furthermore - judging from the lack of dust collecting upon their covers - it was safe to say that they were frequently put to use in his work. What’s more, the reading volumes within this place were not alone found just on the many bookcases present; there were also - to be sure - a truly copious amount of books stacked both upon the floor, and all over the table that – save for some chairs – served as the only piece of furniture contained therein that did not take the form of storage for texts.

Miran Via - immediately after locking the door to the somewhat cramped room behind them - wasted no time in quickly moving over to, and occupying, one of the chairs to be found sitting around the table that was partially obscured by the many tomes currently laid upon it. Running a hand agitatedly through the strands of his magnificent beard as he spoke, the master of the house commanded towards Jysalef – and his ward – with an air of great impatience, “Now that it seems I at long last have in my possession the attention of the two whom my former student was so terribly insistent that I deliver a message unto, I would ask that you both quickly take a seat such that this whole matter can at last be put to rest and I can finally get back to other affairs.”

Jysalef, as if a commanding officer had – back during the days of the war with the lands of Skrande – just commanded him to immediately jump forward in order to preserve his very life from destruction at the hands of the enemy, lunged towards the seat that was erected closest to where he presently stood. Once seated, despite previous mentions made by the Corsinthian Sage to the effect that he had no patience for sitting through such talk, Jysalef launched – with post haste – a great declaration of how sorry he, a lowly ex-soldier, was to have wasted any amount of time belonging to a person of such great import, “Great sir, I apologize that my folly lead to the arrival of Terus and myself being at so late an hour such that you could not put forth the message, that you most graciously still wish to bestow upon us, within a time frame that was more properly conducive to your schedule.”

The impatient sage angrily rubbed the temples of his forehead whilst the warrior before him continued yet again to make this whole matter draw out even longer still, during which time Terus moved into the sole remaining open seat with a polite nod towards the famous – but currently displeased – man of renown. Once Jysalef’s third formal apology had at last come to its conclusion, Miran Via – with his hand still vigorously massaging the side of his face – finally dived into the subject he had sent out Latte to fetch these men back exclusively for the purpose of hearing, “So, tell me swordsman, how much do you actually know about the way under which came forth the unfortunate demise that befell the ancient gifted lands of the kingdom known as the Glein Empire?”

For a protracted - and greatly uncomfortable - moment of silence, the eyes of Jysalef Soresh seemed to glaze over as he went deeply into though about the question that had just been set upon the table before him by his country’s greatest sage. Eventually, with a heavy and disappointed sigh, the man looked up towards Miran Via from a head hung low as he at last responded, “I am terribly sorry, Master Via, but the only matters of which I am respectably knowledgeable of pertain primarily to the education that I received either in the training camps of the former Corsinthian Royal Army, or upon the fields of battle whilst locking blades with those uneducatable Skrandonese heathens.”

For some most peculiar and unfathomable reason, seeing Jysalef sheepishly explain what little he knew of Ancient Therian History caused all the pent up agitation and impatience to leave Miran’s face in much the same way a chef would expect to see butter roll off a greased pan once heated. Now in a much more cordial tone, the greatly bearded sage began to educate the two wandering swordsmen sitting before him about a matter that occurred roughly a whole millennium ago upon the world of Theria, “Well, the Glein Empire - of which I now see that you have most likely never heard of before in the entirety of your life’s experience - was a land gifted with – according to the ancient texts – the greatest of marvels and wonders, such that nothing ever again has been seen by the eyes of man that came even close to approaching their majesty in all the years that followed that kingdom’s most lamentable demise.”

With a smile upon his face the grew steadily as he spoke, until at last it went nearly from the ear on one side of his head all the way over to the other, the sage continued to issue forth his lecture on the matter of ancient history, “However, it would seem that perhaps the creator did not intend for any Therians to have such amazing splendor, as Glein’s denouement came raining down from the hands of a great demon – by the title of Jasmodeus – while nary a thing was done to save a single last one of them despite their many screaming prayers for salvation sent forth to the lord upon that day.”

Suddenly, Miran Via interrupted his own diatribe with nervous heavy coughing, as one might do when they realized that were rambling on so freely that they were about to enter a dangerous territory of things best left unsaid, and then – once his unpanicked composure was at last regained – stated, “Anyways, the reason, Jysalef Soresh, that I had for summoning you here is that a former student of mine presently residing in the city of Kyosem, known as Tallus Osmaard, has recently received an oracular vision from his divine majesty informing him that this very same demon lord will soon be returning once again; and that furthermore, only the ‘Great Corsinthian Vagrant Swordsman’ can have any hope of preventing him from gleefully setting ablaze to all of Theria this time.”

Then, standing up and leaning forward across the table - such that his face was most disagreeably close to Jysalef’s own visage, the sage at long last returned to his formerly agitated tone as he finished the delivery of his message, “What confounds me to no end is why that former student of mine, Tallus, would come to such a ridiculous conclusion as the one wherein he might assume that this hero spoke of in the oracular vision could actually be the likes of one as unprompt and unmannered as your most uncouth self. Still, I was not the one chosen by the divinity to be given this vision, and thus I can only assume that mayhaps there are details that Tallus left out of his letter that make the whole matter of why it is you who are so important more clear.”

After once again calming down somewhat, the sage then rose up from the table that was addled with a great many books and walked back over to the room’s sole portal to unlock it now that his words with the summoned party were at last completed. As he moved to open the room’s door, as the end of the proceedings meant their privacy was no longer required, he spoke one final line to Terus and Jysalef, “There, I’ve now seen to it such that my part in this whole matter has at last been satisfied. Tallus, in the urgent communiqué he sent me a few moons back, declared that it was of the utmost urgency he speak with the people he believed to be the wandering heroes foretold of in his oracular vision, and thusly that I simply must send them his way to Kyosem if chance ever happened to see them travelling through Elpsiod.”

As Miran Via walked out of the study that was filled to the brim with various tomes containing within themselves all sorts of knowledge, Jysalef Soresh remained still sitting at the desk with a most troubled look upon his countenance. If Miran Via was privy to so little faith that Jysalef was actually someone capable of defending the world of Theria - as foretold in an oracular message bestowed by the divine himself - from an impending destruction to be issued forth by a powerful and terrible abomination, then the Great Corsinthian Sage was not the only one presently under the roof of this household that doubted the efficacy of such a reality. While a man who as properly god fearing as was the former soldier, Jysalef, would never once think to enact the blasphemy of crying foul upon the words that his great divinity had handed down to a Corsinthian Sage; it was not beyond the realm of possibility for him to accept the existence of a scenario wherein that sage - being only human himself – was so thoroughly panicked by the visions of impending disaster at the hands of a terrible demon that he in haste misinterpreted the instructions of how to prevent the onset of the aforementioned horrible destruction.

A short distance from the doorway to the study wherein a discussion upon the possible soon to be devastation of all the lands of Theria had just been concluded, fully within earshot of the now troubled man still inside whom had not yet stood up from the table the Corsinthian Sage had left him at upon concluding his message, Miran Via bumped into the girl Latte, “Ah, Latte, how most fortunate it is that I should chance upon you so expediently after concluding the matter with our guests that I had you summon them here for. You see, these men will be leaving us now for Kyosem to pay visit to my colleague that dwells there, and I greatly need for you to accompany them on this trip as my personal envoy of verification as to their identities.”

Latte, whom so greatly admired the man that had taken her in all those years ago when he had first found her wandering about frightened and half starved, nervously put forth a weak protest addressing a problem in the orders he had just laid before her, “Ah, Master Via, Sir… if I accompanied them as you ask, then who would be present here to help you in looking after all the children such that you still had time for your important studies?”

Miran Via smiled as he calmly placed a hand reassuringly upon the shoulder of the pink haired girl, whom had done so much over the years to enable him to effectively run this orphanage that he had begun in Elpsiod some time after the war with Skrande had fallen apart, and stated, “Oh, don’t worry for me so much, Latte, I’m sure I can do just fine in taking care of Konik and all the others while you’re away accompanying our guests. Besides, a trip all the way out to the city of Kyosem and back would really be far too great a burden for an old man such as myself to have to travel, far more so than seeing to the children by myself could ever prove to be. Lastly, I really don’t believe it would be fair for someone of your age to never have truly experienced more of the world than just Elpsiod while time and opportunity are both still available.”

Latte nervously responded, “Ah, I guess…”

First removing his hand from where he had previously laid it upon Latte’s shoulder, the sage then reached into one of the many pocket scattered about the inside of his robes and withdrew from it a silver whisper ring, “Yes, that’s a good girl. Just be sure to see to it that you keep me privy at all times of what happens during the trip, okay?”