Waykeepers

Keepers of Roads That No Longer Open

Waykeepers were the men and women entrusted with the knowledge, maintenance, and protection of Eonil’s Waygates. In the high days of the Age of Light, their work made it possible to step from one side of the world to the other in a single breath.

In the present Fifth Era, no living Waykeeper is publicly known. Their guild has passed into history, their craft into legend. Most people now speak of Waykeepers the way they speak of dragons and lost continents: as something the world once had, and lost, and is not sure it wants back.

Origins

The first Waykeepers emerged after the Ee’dornil returned to the islands and, with Quintra’s wary blessing, began building Waygates under the guidance of dragonkind. The dragons understood gate-magic instinctively; mortals did not.

To bridge that gap, certain mortals were chosen and trained to:

• Understand the sigils and anchor-stones that bound each gate.

• Read and balance the flows of power running through the network.

• Stand as neutral custodians, sworn to keep the roads open to all who travelled in good faith.

These were the first Waykeepers—servants of the road rather than of any one kingdom or faith.

Role and Responsibilities (Then)

At the height of their order, Waykeepers:

• Activated and stabilised gates for travellers, trade caravans, and diplomatic envoys.

• Calibrated links between paired gates, ensuring that travel remained safe and predictable.

• Maintained records of who passed through, when, and under what banners.

• Investigated disturbances, from simple malfunctions to more frightening anomalies in the magic.

• Guarded the neutrality of the roads: many refused to close a gate even under pressure from kings, unless there was clear danger to the world beyond.

Their training combined:

• Dragon-taught magical theory and ritual.

• Practical warding and protection work.

• A strict discipline that emphasised patience, clarity of mind, and resistance to manipulation.

Waykeepers were not soldiers in the usual sense, but they were seldom unguarded. Many travelled in the company of sworn protectors—Amazons, druids, or Ee’dornil warriors—especially as the Age of Light darkened.

Becoming a Waykeeper

In the days when the roads were open, anyone with the will and aptitude could, in theory, become a Waykeeper. In practice, the path was long and demanding:

• Aspirants began as apprentices, serving under a single mentor for years.

• They learned to read gate-scripts, sense disturbances in the stone, and perform the exacting rituals of opening and closing.

• Only after successful service at multiple gates—often on more than one continent—would an apprentice be recognised as a full Waykeeper.

The dragons, and later the Ee’dornil elders, oversaw this process. It was widely accepted that no mortal should be taught gatecraft without both draconic and Ee’dornil approval; the dangers of misuse were simply too great.

Symbols and Attire

Waykeepers were once instantly recognisable:

• Their most common insignia was a stylised open ring or arch, sometimes marked with the faint suggestion of twin horizons within.

• Dragon motifs—coiled tails, wings framing an arch, or a single draconic eye above a gate—were often worked into jewellery or cloak clasps as a sign of who had first taught them.

• Their clothing was chosen for travel and ritual both: sturdy boots and neutral-toned layers, with a ceremonial sash or cloak in the colours of their home region or the gate they primarily served.

In the Fifth Era, such insignia are rare museum pieces and heirlooms. Many temples and collectors lock them away, fearing they may draw the wrong sort of attention from cultists or the desperate.

The Fall of the Waykeepers

The decline of the Waykeepers was not a single event, but a long unravelling.

The First Cult of Ghor

As Ghor’s worship spread, the First Cult began targeting the gate network:

• Waykeepers vanished—kidnapped for their knowledge, sacrificed in dark rites, or simply slain at remote gates.

• Misoura, the blue dragon who had devoted herself to teaching mortals the art of gatecraft, was killed. Her death shattered a living line of instruction that no archive could fully replace.

• Fear grew among the order. Some Waykeepers abandoned their posts; others retreated to safer, more heavily guarded gates.

In response, the Ee’dornil Amazons and druids stepped forward as protectors, and many major gates came to resemble fortified shrines, watched day and night.

War at the Gates

As the Age of Darkness deepened, the Waygates themselves became battlegrounds.

• Cultists and corrupted creatures tried to seize key gates to move forces unseen.

• In some places, the gates began disgorging horrors instead of travellers, as Ghor’s corruption twisted the roads between worlds.

• Heroes died holding lines at the thresholds while Ee’dornil and dragons argued over whether the network could be saved.

Gate after gate was sealed, sabotaged, or destroyed outright to prevent worse disasters. By the time Eedrasil fell and the Night of the Flare struck the western sea, the Waykeepers were already a broken, scattered remnant.

Waykeepers in the Fifth Era

In the current Fifth Era, especially by Year 22, Waykeepers belong to the past:

• No openly acknowledged Waykeeper is known to operate any surviving gate.

• The title is rarely used outside of historical texts, songs, and a few dusty orders that claim lineage but no living road to prove it.

• The knowledge of how to truly open and stabilise a Waygate is believed to be lost.

A handful of rumours persist:

• Ancient families or cloisters who quietly pass down fragments of gate-lore.

• A “last Waykeeper” tending a dormant arch on some forgotten shore.

• Ee’dornil who still remember, but refuse to teach.

None of these stories have been verified. Most scholars consider them wishful tales grafted onto the bones of a dead craft.

Legacy and Perception

To ordinary folk of the islands today, “Waykeeper” is:

• A word from old tales, associated with distant lands, lost dragons, and an age when the world felt larger and yet more reachable.

• A badge of trust and neutrality; calling someone “a Waykeeper at heart” is still a compliment among sailors and traders.

• A reminder that certain kinds of power, once loosed into the world, can never be fully controlled.

Priests and rulers take a more cautious view. Many quietly decree that if any true Waykeeper ever did appear again—with the knowledge to wake the gates—they would need to be watched very carefully… or silenced very quickly. The memory of what was unleashed in the Age of Darkness still bites deep.

For now, the roads the Waykeepers once tended stand silent. Their order survives only in relics, records, and the patient work of historians piecing together how the world moved when doors could open from one end of Eonil to the other in a single step.