Spring, usually a celebration of rebirth, brought strange tidings to the
Serenwilde. Instead of newborn creatures and budding leaves, Miakoda
cried out with alarm at the Mother Moonhart, sensing a fear in the trees
themselves. Leaves were falling early, a foulness leeching their life
away. Iasmos came to investigate, and found the Wheel of the Goloths had
moved once more, coming to rest at the entrance to Moon River. The
Serenwilde gathered to attempt to move it, but it was not to be. None of
the inhabitants of the forest, nor Maeve of the Fae, knew how to shift
the Wheel away.

Only one had even an inkling of what the Wheel might do. Upon hearing
that it was poised at the mouth of the river, having some impact upon
the water, Eurytus hurriedly threw together a bag of necessities and
left the Serenguard Lodge for parts unknown, promising to return once he
had determined whether a long-kept secret might be affected.

Days passed peacefully. Abruptly, the Wheel was once more on the move.
Visions blossomed across the sky of the past as the Wheel made its way
up Moon River. The Serens could not impede its progress, and the images
grew darker and darker. It came to rest ominously at a fork in the
river. Those gathered girded themselves for battle, but nothing emerged
to challenge them.

Eurytus reappeared at the Mother Moonhart, entreating those of the
Serenwilde to remove the Wheel from the borders of the forest lest an
ancient evil be loosed once more. At his behest, many travelled to speak
to Albion, and gathered the essence that she asked for. Hundreds and
hundreds of bits of essence were brought, and with them Albion formed a
sphere of pure moonlight. Wielding this, Enyalida Zayah drove the Wheel
of the Goloths down the river and back into the sea beyond, where it
sank out of sight.

But it was too late. Twisted glah'rai naiads had emerged, loyal to an
unknown Fiabelhie Stillriver. They were quickly dispatched, but more
appeared, and with them the water of Moon River rose in murky waves as
though trying to drown every living thing. Eurytus gathered the Serens
at the Moonhart to tell a sobering tale.

One of the unfortunate victims of the Taint many years ago was Fiabelhie
Stillriver. Caught in the insubstantial Mistwalker form of the
Lakedancers, it took decades for the lost furrikin to coalesce, and by
that time her beloved Ackleberry was long lost. And she blamed the
Serenwilde. Filled with fury, she advanced upon the forest and attempted
to flood and destroy. Only with the combined might of all was she caught
within a crystalline prison, tended by the fledgling Serenguard. Over
time, as she slept, only the tutor was charged to remember the pledge,
should Fiabelhie ever wake.

The Wheel had twisted time itself, creating a loop that moved an early
version of Fiabelhie Stillriver forward through the timestream to the
present, creating a paradox whereby she was never imprisoned at all.
Eurytus asked help of all of the Serenwilde to find the steel magnolia
that he could use to forge a living lock that might bind her once more.
Many rose to the cause, and even as more and more naiads emerged, the
lock was made. All that remained was to locate the prison, and soon
enough Fiabelhie Stillriver freed herself.

Shouting insults, the former Lakedancer emerged from her prison -
beneath the place that the Wheel had so recently paused - and trudged
down Moon River towards the Mother tree. A first attempt at vanquishing
her left many dead, but as she moved towards the Moonhart, the tree
itself repelled her. Serenwilde fought her once more, and this time met
with success. They took the corpse to the shattered remains of the
prison, and the Magnolia Lock was used to bind her once more with a
single steel strand.

Eurytus charged the Serenguard to keep watch over the prison, for it is
the duty of the tribe to keep Fiabelhie entrapped, lest she ever emerge
to flood the Serenwilde once more.

Meanwhile, the mysterious Wheel of the Goloths has been repelled back to
the Inner Sea, where it has sank down to the depths. And there it
lingers, as though biding its time for whatever unknown purpose that
compels it.


Penned by My hand on the 19th of Vestian, in the year 323 CE.