Prologue, Part 1

40 years ago in the Land of Canceri…
To Grissom val’Inares:
Your son Gilan has disappeared, as has your daughter- in- law. Neither were present at the church today, an uncommon occurrence for them. Your daughter- in- law appeared later, entering the Pits in the Corpse Quarter. Your son has yet to reappear. In such an instance, I have taken your grandchild with me on my pilgrimage.
The church has decided to take the boy in, since his illness has increased as of late in its intensity. Should you wish to find him; the boy will arrive at the main gate of the Holy City in a day or so. May many blessings come on you from the Dark Triumvirate.
--From the Letters of Rhadvi the Elder

The old Priestess rested a while. The burden she carried seemed heavier, despite the frailty and thinness of the child. The priestess’s robes were still dark with the blood of boy’s mother, although the wet blood was unnoticeable on her black robes. The small child was asleep, his diseased hands clutching the holy about the priestess’s neck in comfort.
The Blood Plain was silent on this night, the cold air bringing nothing but a white mist out of the boy’s mouth. Once this red plain had been the sight of a awesome battle, one in which all Cancerese remembered: here, so much blood fell that the land itself bleed. It was here that the Nerothians and Nierrites joined forces to battle the invasion of the Coryani empire so long ago. Here was where the center of Canceri was built, the city of whispers, the city of secrets, the city of Nishanpur. The priestess whispered an old prayer to the boy. How long, thought the priestess, had this boy been sick? The boy’s mother was an ardent member of the church, and her god. She aided her fellow Canceri, but her greedy husband destroyed all of that. He had died, and she went to the Pits in the Corpse Quarter of Nishanpur. With no one else to take the boy, the Church had requested that the priestess take the child with her on her pilgrimage. Ah, Nishanpur, that City of Secrets. Those fool enough to go there die there as well, as the Nerothians are apt to say.