Open now, the blind revealed motes of dust in the light. “The Keeper's Enclave is, relatively speaking, a new organisation,” Orlan explained. “A thousand years ago, the maps say that Yeflam was nothing more than a small crop of islands, home to a culture based on fishing. It was not until six cursed men and women driven out of the Kalahan Mountains arrived that it changed. The oldest of them was Jaelyn Meah, just under fifteen hundred years of age at the time, if I remember right. She and her companions constructed a sanctuary for the Cursed, though as to date, their number is only twenty seven. Of course, that is the largest group of known cursed men and women, but they are not the Immortals, nor Aela Ren, whose rule of the Eastern Kingdoms has been characterised by genocide.”
“You talk about the years as if they mean nothing,” she said. “Ren's rule had lasted five thousand years before the wars began.”
“I am the eighty second Samuel Orlan.” The short man grinned. “My perspective may be slightly askew.”
Shaking her head, Ayae eased herself down onto a chair. “The Keeper said I was to go to him tomorrow,” she said.
Dawn lit the edges of the cartographer again. “Demanding sort, but perhaps for the best. The Keepers do understand their curses well. And—”
“I am afraid,” he said, the light enveloping him, “the only way to understand something is to ask the people who have experienced it.”
Just a random quote about immortal people who are involved in campaigns of genocide and now, back to work.