“We took The Ring for our moniker for many reasons. It symbolises wholeness, oneness, fullness – the relationship with the natural world that we aspire to. It is a shape with a single edge, and made of an infinite number of points, the unity and simplicity of purpose our order is built on. It symbolises equality – no point on a ring is more important than another, no one point defines it as a ring or in its removal prevents the ring from existing. It symbolises a cycle – life and death, birth and rebirth, the cycle of the natural world and the cycle of our order. But most of all, it symbolises resilience. The ring can be any size, any number can make its form, and it is no less or more a ring. Even at its smallest, its form can be discerned and identified readily, and it is no better or worse at fulfilling its shape and purpose. Thus it is with our order. Though our number may wax and wane with the years, so long as even one of our order remains, the Ring lives on.”
“The Ring”, Master Halos
Shimmerback flitted through the air, the beating of their gossamer wings creating a dull, low throb throughout their body, complimented by the thrum of a creature bound with great purpose. The beetle, not of this realm and yet entrusted with the message that it may very well live or die upon, sped throughout the halls of Imeldris and broke into the world beyond, carrying the druid’s words to all that would listen.
“I am Master H’rafn, former student of Nelerian…”
The trees listened, a gentle shiver passing through the forest as the message was repeated.
“This is a message to all druids and those of the Council…”
The birds listened, their songs changing imperceptibly as they passed the words spoken in the old tongue to others in their flocks.
“A great, great danger is upon our realm, and it will require the effort of many druids of the Ring to stop it…”
The beasts listened, growing silent as they took in the message and its import, bounding off to spread it.
“Any druid that this message reaches, seek me out…”
The grass itself listened, bending and trembling in a wave that spread across the very continent itself as they shouted the words to all that could hear.
“I shall be in Scale.”
Immortal In My People’s Memory raised his head from his reading to heed the message, a smile breaking below the impassive mask over his golden face.
With A Final Confession Of True Love raised hers elsewhere and breathed deeply, sighing.
And in the air above, the earth below, and the seas beyond, the druids heard.
