"My name is Nathan, Richard. I've been looking forward to meeting you. I didn't expect you would find your way in alone."
"I wanted to come alone so we could talk freely."
"And do you know that I am a prophet?"
"I didn't come here to learn to bake bread."
Nathan's smile widened, but he didn't laugh. His brows pulled together like a hawk's. His voice took on a hiss. "Would you like me to tell you of your death, Richard? How you are to die?"
Richard flopped down on the couch and plunked his feet up on a table. He returned the hawklike glare and threatening smile in kind. "Sure. I'd love to hear all about it. And then when you're done, I will tell you how you are to die."
Nathan lifted an eyebrow. "And are you a prophet?"
"Enough of one to tell you how you are to die."
The frown turned curious. "Really. Tell me then."
Richard took a pear from a bowl on the table, polished it on his pant leg, and took a bite. He spoke as he chewed. "You are going to die right here, in these rooms, of old age, without ever seeing the outside world again."
The creases in Nathan's face deepened as his expression sagged. "Seems you are a prophet, my boy."
"Unless you help me. Maybe if you help me, I'll be able to come back here and help you get out, too."
"And what is it you want?"
"I want this collar off."
Nathan gave him a sly grin. "Seems we share a common interest, Richard."
"But the Sisters say I will die without it."
The sly grin widened. "They demand truthfulness from others, but rarely inconvenience themselves with it. The Sisters have their own agenda, Richard. There is more than one path through the woods."
"The Sisters say I must learn to use my Han, in order to get it off. They don't seem to be helping much in that."
"It would be easier to teach a stump to sing than for a mere Sister to teach you to use your Han. You have Subtractive Magic. They can't help you."
"Can you help me, Nathan?"
"Perhaps." Nathan sat down in his chair, leaning forward intently. "Tell me, Richard, have you ever read the Adventures of Bonnie Day?"
"Read it? It's my favorite book. I read it until my eyes nearly wore the words off the page. I'd love to meet the person who wrote it, and tell them how much I liked the book."
A broad, childlike grin came to Nathan's face. "You just have, my boy. You just have."
Richard came forward from the back of the couch. "You! You wrote the Adventures of Bonnie Day?"
Nathan quoted a few passages, to prove his intimate knowledge. "I gave the book to your father, to give to you when you were old enough to read. You were just born, at the time."
"You were there with the Prelate? She didn't tell me that."
"I doubt the truth occurred to her. You see, Ann doesn't have the power to get into the Wizard's Keep in Aydindril. I helped George get in, so he could get the Book of Counted shadows. They have some very interesting books of prophecy there."
Richard stared in astonishment. "Seems we are old acquaintances, then."
"More than acquaintances, Richard Rahl." Nathan gave him a meaningful look. "My name is Nathan Rahl."
Richard's mouth dropped open. "You are my... great, great, something or other?"
"Too many 'greats' to count. I am nearly a thousand years old, my boy." He waggled a finger in the air. "I have had an interest in you for a long time. You are in the prophecies.
"I wrote the Adventures of Bonnie Day for some of those who had potential. It is a book of prophecy, of sorts. A primer of prophecy, one you would be able to understand, so it would help you. It did help you, didn't it?"
"More than once," Richard said, still having trouble keeping his jaw up.
"Good. I'm pleased then. We gave the book to a few, special boys. You are the only one still alive. The rest died in 'inexplicable' accidents."
Richard finished the pear while he thought. He definitely didn't like the part about Subtractive Magic. "So can you help me with using my power?"
"Think, Richard. The Sisters have not given you pain with the collar, have they."
"No. But they will."
"Fighting the last war, Richard. What did Bonnie Day tell the Warwick troops guarding the moors? That the enemy would not come the same way as they had before. That they were foolishly wasting their energy trying to fight the last war." Nathan lifted an eyebrow. "You seem to have missed the lesson. Just because something happened to you before, that does not mean it will happen again. Think ahead, Richard, not behind."
Richard hesitated. "I... had a vision in one of the towers. A vision that Sister verna used the collar to hurt me."
"And it brought the anger forth."
Richard nodded. "I called the magic and killed her."
Nathan gave a small, disappointed shake of his head. "The vision was your own mind trying to tell you something, trying to show you that you could defend yourself if they did that, that you could defeat them. It was your gift, and your mind working together, trying to help you. You were too busy fighting the last war to heed the message."
Chagrined, Richard kept his mouth shut. He had worried about them hurting him, to the exclusion of everything else. He had ignored the true meaning of what Kahlan had done, because he had been so afraid of the past coming to life again. Think of the solution, not the problem; that was what Zedd had taught him. He had been blinded to the future by the past.
"I see what you mean, Nathan," he admitted. "What did you mean about the Sisters not giving me pain with the collar?"
"Ann knows you are a war wizard, I told her before you were born. I told her near to five hundred years ago. She would have given orders to the Sisters. Giving pain to a war wizard is like kicking a badger on his rump."
"You mean that pain is somehow the secret to my power?"
"No. The result of pain. Anger." He gestured to the sword at Richard's hip. "You use the sword in that way. Anger calls forth the magic. Actually, you call the magic, it brings you anger, and so the magic works. Would you like me to show you how to touch your Han?"
Richard scooted forward. "Yes. I never thought I would say that, but yes. I need to be able to get out of here."
"Hold up your palm. Good." He seemed to pull an aura of authority around himself. "Now, lose yourself in my eyes."
Richard stared into the hooded, deep, dark, azure eyes. The gaze drew him in. Richard felt as if he were falling up into the clear, blue sky. His breath came in ragged pulls, not of his own will. He felt Nathan's commanding words more than heard them.
"Call forth the anger, Richard. Call forth the rage. Call forth the hate and fury." Richard felt it, just as when he drew the sword; as he felt his breath being drawn for him, he felt the anger being drawn. "Now, feel the heat of that rage. Feel the flames of it. Good. Now focus those feelings in the palm of your hand."
Richard funneled the rage of the magic to his hand, directed its flow, feeling its force. His teeth gritted with the power of it.
"Look in your hand, Richard. See it there. See what you are feeling."
Richard's eyes moved slowly to his hand. A ball of blue and yellow fire tumbled slowly above his outstretched palm. He could feel the energy flowing from himself, into the fire. He increased the flow of rage, and the angry ball of flame grew.
"Now, cast the rage, the hate, the anger, the fire, at the hearth."
Richard threw his hand out. The slowly tumbling sphere of flame stayed with his hand. He looked to the hearth, focusing the rage outward, casting it away from himself.
The liquid light howled as it streaked to the hearth, exploding there with a crack, like lightning.
Nathan smiled with pride. "That is how it's done, my boy. I doubt the Sisters could teach you that in a hundred years. You're a natural. No doubt about it. You are a war wizard."
"But Nathan, I didn't feel my Han. I didn't sense anything different. All I felt was angry, like when I use the sword. For th
at matter, like when I shut my finger in a door."
Nathan nodded knowingly. "Of course not. You are a war wizard. Others have only one side of the gift. They use what is around them; the air, heat, cold, fire, water, whatever they need.
"War wizards aren't like others. They instead tap the core of power within themselves. You don't direct your Han, you direct your feelings. The Sisters teach the "how" of how everything is done. That is irrelevant to your power. For you, results are all that are important, because you draw power from within. That is why the Sisters cannot teach you."
"What do you mean that's why they cannot teach me?"
"Have you ever seen a seamstress miss a pincushion? The Sisters want you to watch you hand, the pin, and the pincushion. That is the way other wizards use their magic. War wizards do not watch, they just do. Their Han acts instinctively."
"Was that... wizard's fire?"
Nathan gave a deep chuckle. "That was to wizard's fire what an annoyed moth is to an enraged bull."
Richard tried again, but the fire would not come. The anger would not come. He could draw the sword's anger, but it was not the same kind he had done with Nathan, from within himself.
"It won't work. Why can't I do it again?"
"Because I was helping you, showing you with my own power what it is like. You are not yet able to do it on your own."
"Why?"
Nathan reached over and tapped Richard's head. "Because it must come from in here. You have yet to accept yourself, who you are. You don't believe. You still fight who you are. Until you accept yourself, until you believe, you won't be able to call forth your Han, your power, except in great anger."
"What of the headaches that came from my gift? The Sisters said they would kill me without the collar."
"The Sisters nibble around the truth like it were gristle in a piece of meat. They only eat it if they're starving. They want us prisoners so they can bring us to their ways.
"What they attempt to do when they train with you is what I have just done. The headaches are dangerous, but only if a young wizard is left alone with his power. When you had the headaches, were you ever able to make them go away?"
"Yes. Sometimes when I concentrated on shooting arrows, or when something inside warned me of danger, or when I was angry and used the magic of the sword, then they went away for a time."
"That is because you were bringing the gift into harmony with your mind. The only thing required to keep the gift from harming you is a bit of instruction—like I just gave you.
"Teaching wizards should be a wizard's business. For a wizard, bringing your mind into harmony with your gift is a simple matter, because it is the male gift teaching the male gift. What I have just done with you is enough to keep the gift from harming you for a good long time—without the Rada'Han.
"In the future, joining with a wizard will take you the next step, and protect you until you reach the following plain. It is only important to have help available when you need it. The Sisters need a hundred years to show you what I have just done.
"They use the collar as an excuse to take us prisoner for their own purposes. They have their own ideas about the training of wizards. Their idea is to control wizards."
"Why?"
"They think wizards are responsible for all the evil that has befallen mankind, and if they collar the power, control it, and indoctrinate it, they will bring the light of their theology to the people. They are zealots who believe they are the only ones who know the true way to eternal reward in the Creator's light. They feel justified in using any means to gain that end."
"You mean that what you have just showed me, with my power, is enough to keep the gift from killing me, without the collar?"
"It's enough to keep the gift from killing you, but it would take many more lessons to teach you to be a real wizard. All I have done is to hold the stallion's bit, so he won't buck you off. It would take much more work to teach you to ride with grace."
Richard could feel the muscles in his face draw tight. "If this is true, then they are kicking the rump of a badger. Thank you, for helping me." Richard rubbed his fingers together. "Nathan, there is great trouble coming. Coming very soon. I need to know a few things. Do you know the Wizard's Second Rule?"
"Of course. But you must learn the first, before you have the second."
"I already know the first. I killed Darken Rahl with the first. It states that people can be made to believe any lie, either because they want to believe it's true, or because they are afraid it's true."
"And the counter to it?"
"The secret is that there is no counter. I must be always vigilant, knowing that I, too, am vulnerable, and never arrogantly believe I am immune. I must always be alert that I can fall prey."
"Very good."
"And the Second Rule?"
Nathan's white eyebrows hooded his azure eyes. "The Second Rule involves unintended results."
"So, what is it?"
"The Second Rule is that the greatest harm can result from the best intentions. It sounds a paradox, but kindness and good intentions can be an insidious path to destruction. Sometimes doing what seems right is wrong, and can cause harm. The only counter to it is knowledge, wisdom, forethought, and understanding the First Rule. Even then, that is not always enough."
"Good intentions, or doing right, can cause harm? Such as?"
Nathan shrugged. "It would seem kind to give candy to a small child, because they like it so. Knowledge, wisdom, and forethought tell us that it would make the child sick if we continued this "kindness" at the expense of good food."
"That's obvious. Anyone would know that."
"Say a person hurts their leg, and you bring them food while they heal, but after time they still don't wish to get up, because it hurts at first. So, you continue to be kind and bring them food. Over time, their legs will shrivel, and it will be even more painful to get up, so you are kind and continue bringing food. In the end, they will be bedridden, unable to ever walk again, because of your kindness. Your good intentions have brought harm."
"I don't think that happens often enough to be a problem."
"I am trying to give you obvious examples, Richard, so you will be better able to extrapolate to more difficult problems, and understand an obscure principle.
"Good intentions, being kind, can encourage the lazy, and motivate sound minds to become indolent. The more help you give them, the more help they need. As long as your kindness is open-ended, they never gain discipline, dignity, or self-reliance. Your kindness impoverishes their humanity.
"If you give a coin to a begger because he says his family is hungry, and he uses it to get drunk, and then kills someone, is it your fault? No. He did the killing, but had you given him food instead, or gone and given his family food, the killing would not have happened. It was a a good intention that resulted in harm.
"Wizard's Second Rule: the greatest harm can result from the best intentions. Violation can cause anything from discomfort, to disaster, to death.
"Some leaders have preached peace, saying that even self-defense is wrong. It seems the best of intentions to shun violence. In the end, it often leads to a slaughter, where their threat of violence in the beginning would have prevented attack, and resulted in no violence. They put their good intentions above the realities of life. They accuse warriors of being bloodthirsty, when the warriors would have actually prevented bloodshed.
"Are you trying to say I should feel no shame at being a war wizard?"
"It does the sheep no good to preach the goodness of a diet of grass, if the wolves are of a different mind."
Richard felt like he were having a conversation with Zedd. "But kindness can't always be wrong."
"Of course not. That is where wisdom comes in. You must be wise enough to foresee the consequences of your actions.
"But the problem with the Second Rule is that you can't always tell for sure whether you are violating it, or simply doing right. Worse, magic is dangerou
s. When you add magic to the good intentions, violation of the Second Rule can lead to catastrophe.
"Using magic is easy. Knowing when to use magic is the hard part. Every time you use it, you can bring unexpected ruin.
"Do you know, Richard, that it is the weight of one flake of snow that is one too many, and causes an avalanche? Without that one, last flake, the catastrophe would not happen. When using magic, you must know which is the one snowflake too many before you add its weight. The avalanche will be out of all proportion to what you think the weight of that flake could invoke."
Richard rubbed his thumb on the hilt of his sword. "Nathan, I think I may have torn the veil because I violated the Wizard's Second Rule."
"You did."
"What did I do?"
"You used your magic, through the Wizard's First Rule, to win. In so doing, you fed magic to the boxes, the gateway, tearing the veil. You did it through ignorance. You didn't know that the unintended results of doing what seemed right could be the destruction of all life. One snowflake indeed. Magic is dangerous."
"How can I fix it?"
"The Stone of Tears must be put back on the Keeper. The lock, the seal, must be restored. The Stone of Tears must be sent back to its rightful place, in the underworld, where it will serve to restrain the Keeper's power in this world. To do that requires both powers.
"The key must then be turned in the lock, so to speak, by closing the gateway. This also requires both Magics. Doing any of this with only one side of the magic would rip the veil, so a wizard with the gift for only the Additive, such as myself, would be of no help. Only one such as you can accomplish the task.
"Until it is done, we are in terrible danger. If you act wrongly, use the stone for your own reasons, you have the power to destroy the balance and tear the veil the rest of the way, sending us all into eternal night."
Richard stared at the table while he thought. "Do you know what an 'agent' is?"