Magician's End
‘Before we begin,’ said Miranda, ‘can you explain how you resemble my father down to the tiniest detail?’
Guide paused, and smiled exactly as the now-dead Black Sorcerer had in life. ‘Certainly,’ he said with another pause, again exactly as Macros would have. ‘We exist in a realm of energy, we who serve the One. We are forever in the Bliss, part of the One until we are needed and we are then given form and substance, given an identity commensurate with our purpose; to ensure efficiency, all memories of previous service in that role are returned. So, currently, I think of myself as “I”, a single entity, but that will dissipate when I rejoin the One in the Bliss.
‘I am only an abstraction of energy, a being of light and heat if you will, a thing of mind alone. Hence, the One gives me the ability to … suggest to your mortal minds any shape and quality suitable to sustain communications.’
‘But we are not mortal,’ said Nakor, indicating Miranda and himself.
‘You are more mortal than you might guess,’ returned Guide, ‘for it is of the mind I speak, and while your fundamental being is demonic, your minds are human, more so each day. Moreover, your demonic bodies are things of flux energy, imperfect imitations of beings of the higher plane.
‘And you are becoming that which you appear to me, with limits, of course. You would never mate with humans and produce offspring, nor would you be subject to their illnesses and injuries, and those who battle demon-kind can still destroy you, returning your essence to the Fifth Circle.’ He lowered his voice and seemed to be attempting kindness. ‘Nor do you have a mortal soul. Those beings whose memories you possess have travelled on to the place where they have been judged and are now on their path to the next state of existence, or have returned to the Wheel of Life for another turn.
‘In short, you will never truly be Miranda and Nakor. But you’re as close as any being will ever get.’
Turning, he began to walk away. ‘Please, we must travel far and while time here is not measured as it is in the mortal realm, it is still passing and the longer you are away from Midkemia, the more the One’s Adversary stands to gain.’
Pug and the others fell in next to Guide and Pug said, ‘Then I believe you had best tell us in your own fashion what it is we need to know, but could you begin with why we are here?’
‘That’s the simple part,’ said Guide. ‘You fell into a trap. The Adversary has been waiting a very long time to rid Midkemia of the four of you. To do it in one moment, that approaches genius.’
‘This Adversary you speak of,’ said Nakor. ‘Who or what is it?’
The guide paused. ‘It will be easier if we wait on questions until I finish explaining to you what has befallen you. You are vital to what transpires, but still just a tiny part of the whole. To leap to attempting the larger picture might confuse.
‘You are stranded in a reality that is not your own, and have no easy means of returning. You are, not to put too fine a point on it, marooned here.’
He kept walking and as the four companions glanced at one another, they hurried to keep up with his brisk pace. Pug overtook him in three strides and said, ‘If we are marooned, where are we going?’
‘To find one who may facilitate your release from this place.’
‘But I thought you said this world was naught but blight and desolation?’
In a perfect duplication of Macros’s smile, Guide said, ‘This is true, but that doesn’t mean it’s unoccupied.’
Pug considered that for a moment, but decided that among the thousands of questions demanding answers, the meaning of that riddle was one he could wait for.
They forged across the bed of a long-absent sea. As they trudged across the rough channels and gullies, Miranda asked, ‘Why are we walking?’
Guide said, ‘You have a better alternative?’
With an all-too-familiar smug smile, she glanced at Pug, then vanished.
A hundred yards ahead they heard her scream.
Scrambling as best they could across the broken, sun-baked sands of the dry sea bottom, they reached her quickly, finding her sitting up, a look of confusion on her face as she held her hands to her temples.
‘That which you call magic,’ said Guide, ‘does not respond here as it would in your own world.’
‘But what of the protective spells we employed?’ asked Magnus.
‘Did it not occur to you that it was surprisingly easy to create those protections against this world’s energy states?’
Magnus nodded. ‘Now that you mention it, it was easy.’
Nakor chuckled as he and Pug helped Miranda to her feet. ‘Different energy states, my friends,’ said the bandy-legged little man. ‘If you light a small pot of oil, you get a flame to read by. If you refine and distil that same oil and light it, you get a really big, hot flame.’
‘In time you should be able to learn to temper your arts to transport yourself from place to place,’ said Guide. ‘But we do not have the time for you to learn. Rather, you do not have that time. So, we walk.’ With that he began walking again.
Pug asked Miranda, ‘Are you all right?’
‘Besides feeling supremely foolish, yes.’ She glanced up and saw the concern in his eyes. ‘Sorry.’
Pug felt conflicting urges to say different things at once, paused, then nodded.
Time passed and they forged on. Guide provided illumination as they traversed the broken seabed. He created bridges as they crossed massive trenches in the former ocean’s floor, and seemingly kept them alive by some magic that rid them of need for food or water.
But they did need to rest, even if only for short periods, while they regained strength rapidly in this high-energy-state universe.
During one such rest, Pug asked, ‘Are we to know why you’re here?’
Guide answered, ‘I am here as willed by One.’
Pug couldn’t help but laugh. ‘When I was a Tsurani Great One on Kelewan, my every command was answered by “Your Will, Great One”, ah … for some reason this strikes me as humorous.’
A great wave of sadness swept over Pug as he remembered Kelewan. Since his actions had destroyed that world and countless lives on it, he had effectively walled off the profoundly deep sorrow and guilt associated with that terrible decision. Yet from time to time, usually when he was alone, it would return to haunt him.
‘How are you able to keep hunger and thirst at bay for us?’ asked Nakor. ‘It’s a very good trick.’
Guide shrugged. ‘The universe is aware, on many levels. My perceptions and knowledge are vastly different to your own. What I need to know, I know. What I do not know, I do not know.’ He shrugged. ‘You are mortals, and in need of food and water, so I provide such …’ He waved his hand as if the concept was alien to him and difficult to explain. ‘I just make it so, you are fed; you have drunk … what is needed.’ Then he opened his eyes slightly and said, ‘Ah, curiosity!’
‘You have none?’ asked Magnus.
‘I am created for a purpose,’ said Guide.
Nakor laughed. ‘We all are.’
‘But my purpose is unique and short-lived. Once I start you on your way home, I will have completed my task and cease to exist in this form,’ said Guide. ‘I will return to the One and rejoin the Bliss.’
‘Who sent you to find us?’ asked Magnus.
‘The One,’ said Guide with a tone that suggested it was obvious.
‘Why here?’ asked Nakor, fixing Guide with a narrow gaze. ‘Why not on Midkemia before we destroyed an entire city and the best part of a race?’
Guide cocked his head for a second as if considering. ‘I do not know.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and said, ‘Rider.’
‘What rider?’ asked Miranda.
‘Rider. She was sent by the One to warn you.’ He pointed at Pug. ‘But she was … prevented.’ His face became a mask of confusion. He stood up. ‘Come. We must hurry. Time grows short.’
‘How much farther?’ asked Magnus.
&
nbsp; ‘Why the sudden hurry?’ asked Miranda.
‘I can only know what I am to know.’ Guide now looked completely confused. ‘Your questions will … be answered as it is … as the One …’ Frustration overcame him and he almost shouted, ‘I do not know why these things are so! I am only a means of …’ He continued in an almost alien voice, ‘I am only a means of expression, an interpreter if you will, of a higher mind which must carefully choose how to touch you without harm. Your lack of belief in the form your minds chose … it is wearing on me. Come, I will take you to someone who may be better able to answer these and other questions.’
They trudged along and Pug said, ‘When we pulled Macros back from his attempted ascension into godhood, I remember him describing his experience as seeing all of vast creation through the knothole of a fence, and as we pulled him back his perspective shifted and he saw less and less.’
‘Yes?’ asked Miranda.
‘He later explained that the other aspect of the experience was that the closer he got to that fence, the less of his “self” remained; as he ascended to godhood, identity faded as consciousness expanded.’
Guide said, ‘Yes. The One could simply impart knowledge, but it would overwhelm you. For you to know, but to be squatting on the side of a hill, unable to move because your mind was damaged, that would serve no one.’
‘That’s hard to deny!’ said Nakor.
They moved as best they could over the broken terrain and at times found themselves facing seemingly insurmountable obstacles, for they were moving down a miles-long slope that wended its way through once-undersea mountains. Yet Guide always seemed to find a way, even if it was treacherous.
Finally they crested a rise and he pointed. ‘There!’
In the distance they could see a vast table of land, surrounded by deep trenches. Pug said, ‘Those crevasses are vast. Can you fashion us a bridge that far?’
Before Guide could answer, Magnus said, ‘I think I can get us there.’
Miranda looked at him. ‘Are you certain? I found the short excursion I attempted very painful.’
‘I’ve been attuning myself as best I’m able to the energy states here …’ Magnus paused and they both knew he had almost called her ‘Mother’, and a smile was exchanged. ‘I doubt it will be pain-free, but I think I can manage this one attempt without incapacitating myself. As I can see our destination, much of the risk is abated.’
Pug and Miranda glanced at one another, then at Nakor, who nodded. ‘It’s been a long time since I tried to forbid you a risk,’ said Pug. He took Magnus’s hand as Miranda and Nakor joined hands, and Nakor grabbed Magnus’s arm. Pug gripped Guide’s arm with his free hand and found it unexpectedly cold.
Suddenly they were standing on a plateau miles from where they had been a moment before. Pug looked at his son and saw Magnus’s expression was pained, and perspiration was beading on his forehead. His pale complexion was drained of what little colour he normally possessed. He shook his head slightly and said, ‘I’ll be fine in a moment. If we have to do it again, I can adjust. This is not the easiest adjustment I’ve made, but it’s not the most difficult either.’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ said Nakor, then he pointed past Guide. ‘Who’s that?’
Guide didn’t look, but said, ‘That is Pepan the Thrice-cursed.’ Then he vanished without a word.
The being left before them was as alien a creature as any of them had met, and in demonic form Nakor and Miranda had met many. He, if gender could be determined, was as miserable-looking a creature as any had seen. His head was three times the size of a normal man’s, but the body was slender and seemed barely able to hold it up. A bulbous stomach protruded so far that only the lower portions of spindly legs where it sat could be seen, and the arms were almost withered.
His face was long, from an almost hairless pate to a long, broad jaw, and a nose covered in pustules and scabs was at its centre. Rheumy eyes of pale blue surrounded by jaundiced yellow shed a constant stream of tears and heavy lips generated a constant flow of froth and bubbles.
Miranda said softly, ‘I’ve seen worse.’
Nakor said, ‘I’m older than you. No you haven’t.’
The creature seemed unaware of them until Pug ventured closer. ‘You are Pepan?’
‘That’s what Guide said,’ snapped the creature angrily. ‘Do you see anyone else here?’
Nakor pressed forward, his insatiable curiosity pushing aside other considerations. ‘Tell us why you are called the Thrice-cursed.’
‘Listen and be wiser for it, mortal!’ shouted the creature. ‘In this world once was I a man among men, a king among kings, a being of power and wealth, wisdom and beauty. Did I sit upon thrones and did subjects tremble at my beauty? Yes! Did I possess all that any man might desire? Yes!’
Pug saw Miranda about to interrupt and slightly shook his head to indicate he wanted to hear this tale: perhaps there was knowledge to be gained here.
‘In my arrogance I did conspire to elevate myself beyond the wealth and power I had, to rise to the heavens and seek a place among the gods.’
Nakor grinned, and nodded. ‘Go on.’
‘In my vanity, I did create engines of destruction unmatched in the history of my people. Nations I conquered to gather mighty armies around me: those who were vanquished served or died.
‘Then in the tenth age of my reign, I came here to the Tent of Heaven, and led my hordes up the Path of the Gods, to the top of the tallest mountain on this world!’
Nakor glanced around, for they were on what had once been an undersea plateau. ‘I see no mountain, Pepan.’
‘Washed away by the ocean, for no sooner had I approached the Gates of Heaven to demand my due as the newest of the gods, they picked up the entire mountain and thousands of my soldiers fell screaming to their deaths. Then, for my vanity, the gods cursed me by washing away all knowledge of me, sweeping my people into the sea with me, while I was chained to that very mountain. I listened to their screams of terror and pleas for mercy, until there was only silence.
‘Then I knew the price of vanity, perhaps the worst of all sins, for alone I waited, eons passing as the waters wore away the very rocks to which I was chained. The sea became my home and I abided.
‘Above, time passed; I had but scant knowledge of it, only suggestions carried to me on fickle tides. A strange scrap of fabric, unlike any I had beheld, drifted close and I seized it. I wondered who had woven it and what manner of creature now walked in the world above me. I treasured that fabric until the salt of the water had faded it and the very fabric wore away.
‘Once a ship passed directly above, blocking out the faint light of the sun as it passed. I wondered who voyaged upon it, from whence they came and where they were bound.
‘As the mountain wore away, sections sheared off and I was carried deeper into the depths, until no light reached me from above.’
Miranda said, ‘That is far more than three curses; that’s damnation without ending.’
‘But there you are wrong, mortal!’ shouted Pepan. ‘For after a time I found peace, an acceptance of my lot. I was content to let my mind go void, to simply be in harmony with the rhythms of the sea.
‘Angry gods at last took note of my peace, and chose then to inflict the second of my curses. A day, a month, mere moments, I do not know how long passed, for time had become meaningless to one dwelling blind in the depths of the sea, but suddenly the waters receded and I was again in the light and air! Fire rained down from above, and majestic clouds of flame and ash tore across the heavens as war on a scale unimagined by mortals raged across the land. Engines of destruction vast beyond my imagining, making my proud fleet seem like mere toys, cruised the skies, delivering obliteration to all below.
‘Mortals in armour unlike any seen before hurried across broken lands with lances of red light and fire-belching engines on treads, destroying all before them.
‘Then hordes of demons appeared, sweeping mortals away as a
scythe shears grain, and answering them was a host of angels, swords aflame, horns sounding notes so pure that I was reduced to weeping at the first note.
‘This world was torn asunder and oceans vanished as energies hotter than a star burned across the lands. And yet I abided.’
He fell silent for a moment, and to the four travellers it was unclear if he was merely organizing his thoughts or experiencing some emotion at the memory of this unbelievable narrative.
‘So, in sum, my second curse was to watch any shred of a thing I might have loved destroyed in the war between gods and men.’ His voice softened. ‘A war I began. Ages passed and my third curse was made apparent.’
‘What is that?’ asked Nakor.
‘Upon this world remain scattered remnants of nations, which I gathered.’ He pointed to the assembled bits and scraps he had cobbled together to make a shelter. A bit of something served as a chair; there was also an ancient-looking table. Shreds of fabric had been woven together into a quilt. Pepan himself wore a simple breechclout that was revealed when he finally stood up.
‘For uncounted days I wandered, gathering what I could find, always to return here.’
‘Why here?’ asked Magnus. ‘There must be more hospitable places on this world.’
‘Not really,’ answered Pepan. ‘And this is where the gods left me. This is where I am to abide. I no longer rebel but I do question.’ Raising his eyes to the sky, he shouted, ‘I was a sinner, All Father! I admit my transgressions, All Mother! I sinned most of my days!’ His voice broke. ‘But not every day. I lived but a few score years, yet I have paid for my sins for an eternity.’ With a sob, he whispered, ‘Enough, please.’
Just as Pug and the others were verging on sympathy for the abject creature, Pepan erupted in a howl of rage. ‘And my third curse, most hateful of all, making me the gatekeeper!’
‘Gatekeeper?’ asked Nakor.
‘See you then, mortal, that the ultimate jest piled upon me by the gods is that when those who wander this destroyed world, or who fall here from some other realm, when at last they find their way here, I am obliged to help them on their way. I cannot, even out of lonely spite, keep them here to mitigate my endless sorrow through pleasant discourse, nor may I exchange tales of lives spent in other realms, but rather I must endure solitude.