by D. H. Aire
Aaprin feeling weak-kneed came closer, “Master, the Enchantment will not let a Human pass.”
Nodding at the truth of Aaprin’s statement, Abernathy consoled, “Yet, as Faeryn told us four hundred years ago, ‘Magic springs forth from Paradox.’” Abernathy gestured them to follow him through the now stately opening Guild doors.
Revit nudged Terus, “I don’t like this.”
His friend took his hand, “Hold on tight. We’ve crossed mage wards before.”
Aaprin murmured to himself, “This always makes me feel sick.” He crossed through the entryway wards and suddenly vanished from sight.
Abernathy ushered them across the Enchantment ahead of him. “So it does us all,” the Faeryn master murmured, urging the hesitant lads, who he could almost mistake for twins. “Be determined and not afraid, lads. Now it is your turn.”
Worriedly, Revit and Terus, hand in hand, broke into a run and crossed the invisible line. In the next moment they were gone. The elder Faeryn grimly nodded to himself, then followed his guests through, knowing that he would be first to reach the other side. He wished them luck and vanished from outside view as he crossed the wards that were plainly visible before his magesight.
Enchantment
3
“We are here, My Lord,” the coachman called down through the grate as the coach came to a halt.
George looked to his companion. The beast’s muzzle rose in a reassuring parody of a grin. “Come on then. It’s time I, too, properly introduced myself.”
Man and beast exited the coach. He paused to lean comfortingly upon his walking staff, which abruptly glowed. :This should be no worse than your trying to convince the University that there was a site that history had overlooked in Northern Europe.:
“Thanks for reminding me how I got myself into this mess,” George muttered in reply to what once had been merely a computer staff, which shared capacity with his enrapt mind; a computer that had not been a conscious living thing until they had fallen through the “Gate.”
:George, sometimes I wonder if those are really my memory banks based in your neurons.:
The coachman stiffened as the staff in Je’orj’s hand glowed. He whipped his horses into motion and rushed off hissing, “Elfblood mages trying to look human, now!”
Raven growled.
“I know,” George muttered, comfortingly. “It’s time to stop bickering and get on with it.” The beast nodded its head. George faced the entryway and the Guild’s Wards. His eyes went out of focus as he mumbled, “Commence scan.”
:Scanning...: Data flashed through George’s enrapt mind. Lines of fey power glowed to his inner sight. They ran in almost recognizable patterns. Information on the type of stone laid into the arched door, density, composition, and a dozen other facts relating to how it was built raced through George’s mind, which flowed outward with the archeologically based scan technique.
:Elvish runes have been razed along the base and lintels of the doorway... The ward extends along the entire length and width of the perimeter. No data regarding the interior is available.:
“The dimensions of the building may be deceptive,” George muttered as Raven edged forward to sniff at the doorway that was both less –– and more –– than it seemed. She could smell the Enchantment and its desire to prohibit access to all things human and mundane in origin.
:The building style utilized appears similar to much of the design technique as that used in the latter half of the Twelfth Aqwaine’s Reign. It is reminiscent of the Temples in Lyai, which were in ascendancy at that time...:
Raven nudged Je’orj with her furred shoulder. He took a sudden deep breath at the interruption, returning instantly to their purpose here. “Any ideas of how to cross the Enchantment without becoming a permanent feature of the Ward?”
:The runes seem to orient along barring the nonmagical-human in particular. Raven should have no difficulty in crossing, considering her origins. Since I am no longer precisely technological, I believe it logical to assume that I will be unhindered.:
“However, that doesn’t answer my particular dilemma. I am neither magical, or anything other than human.”
:Will you trust me?:
He opened his eyes wide, “You wouldn’t—”
:Do you want to enter peaceably? Or do you desire to announce yourself by destroying the Ward?:
“You’re becoming worse than Se’and,” George muttered bitterly. “Let’s get on with it then, but this will be at my discretion.”
:At your command, George.:
George grimly steeled himself for what they were about to do, then said feigning magnanimity, “Raven, after you.”
The beast stared back at him as the staff flared into incandescence. His human expression slowly faded to an expression of utter calm. Raven shivered, turning away from facing this man who was no longer the foster father she recognized, but a friend, nonetheless. Hesitating only a moment, she crossed the warded entryway, seemed to shimmer slightly, then completely vanished. Behind her stiffly marched the human marionette, who, as he crossed the Guild’s Enchantment, began to glow as brightly as suddenly now armored looking staff in his hand. A moment later he, too, completely vanished.
Archmage Abernathy of the Faeryn frowned uncertainly. The apprentice, Aaprin, had come through the Enchantment without apparent difficulty. He had appeared almost an hour before in the Faeryn booth of the Guild. His face pale and wan, he was plainly startled to find Abernathy standing there, bracketed by two other Faeryn.
Aaprin stared behind him into the stygian depths that outlined the booth’s rear arch, worriedly awaiting his younger companions. He well remembered his first visit here with Master Stenh years past. The Enchantment was never quite the same experience for anyone, except in one way.
The first time was—. Aaprin covered his face with his hands momentarily, it was unpleasant, to say the least. “Come on, you two can do it!” he mumbled, wishing with all his heart for that to be true.
Master Hyram frowned and whispered, “Do you really think the lads can come through unaided?”
With a sigh, Abernathy reminded, “No aid may be given. This is a test each of us must face.”
The other Faeryn, Fitzgerald, shook his head, “The enchantment will never allow a Human to pass. Master, who or what is being tested here?”
Abernathy glanced back at the concerned Aaprin, who was seated in shadow, well out of casual sight from the other booths, then muttered to Hyram, “You were the first of us to note his presence, which do you think I seek to test?”
Shivering ever so slightly, Hyram replied, “I wish I only knew.”
Stenh motioned to Abernathy as the more than two score mages began ascending the steps to their booths. Abernathy reminded his fellows, “Keep them out of sight.”
Fitzgerald whispered, “You expect much.”
“They’ll be here soon enough, have no doubt,” Abernathy averred, noticing the perking of Aaprin’s ears. He hoped that would reassure the lad, though he was having his own doubts.
Fitzgerald knew that as well as his weaver mage comrade Hyram, who looked askance at Aaprin before taking his own Seat in the booth. He sat in such a way as to instantly note of the arrival of the two missing apprentices, as well as good vantage of the Hall for what was to come.
They felt the Guild wards quake. Silence abruptly reigned in the Hall as the rotund Abernathy hurried down the steps toward the front of the Hall, where the elvin Archmage, Regis, with a look of puzzlement convened the Guild to Order.
Dust drifted down from the ceiling as the Enchantment strained against the entry of something passing within it. Master Stenh arose and moved to the center of the chamber as the mages began to mutter to one another musingly and with some concern.
Grendel glanced upward, frowning disconcertedly. Master Stenh, seated beside him to the left of the elvin archmage, rose. Master Stenh grimly proclaimed, “I stand before you this day to Petition for recognition of a new mage to th
e Imperial Guild of Magery.”
There was a gasp of startlement and worry from Grendel as the mages turned to stare as the Enchantment, which warded the Guild, continued to quake.
The main doors began to glow an eerie violet, trying to prevent what existed without from entering. Elvin wards were muttered by dozens of mages, almost sounding like ominous curses.
Elsewhere in eternity walked a glowing individual. Technology made man and computer enrapport –– a single tool for discovery –– human discovery. George stood poised at the edge of the Barrier Mountains, his feet dangled from the ledge. In surprise, he turned his head, recognizing this particular spot where a daydreaming shepherd had looked out into the Great Waste below and had seen what appeared to be a battle rage out of the days of old.
Beneath him lay the desert from which he had emerged upon this strange world. This was a place George had found as, albeit temporarily, a sanctuary. This was Balfour’s home.
The sand below began to swirl as if a mirage. It offered a view into the past where once this land had been green and lush with life. Man and his machines had descended from the very heavens. He could see the colonizer ships, old battered hulks salvaged to carry immigrants to worlds beyond any then known to new hopes.
It was here that man first set foot upon what they thought a perfect world. To the north the forest lay, covering half a continent. Men settled and began cutting the leading edge of trees. They dug into the earth to lay the foundations of their buildings and to plant his crops. Slowly, inexorably, the tree line was cut back and farms, factories, homes and power plants were raised in their stead.
What sparked the realization that man was not the sole occupant of this world the Enchantment seemed able to show as the sand below swirled in chaos. Men armed themselves with energy and projectile weapons. The foremost of their militia rose into the air in what once were space shuttles and in formation they soared northward.
Dragons, larger cousin to wyverns, met the vehicles of metal in the skies. Battle was joined. Flame spat from jointed mouth and metallic weapons alike. Charred forms were struck reeling from the sky. The infantrymen strove forward against an army of elves mounted upon white horses that sped like clouds before the coming storm and met the human invaders.
Blood wet the earth as the opposing forces reached each other. Magic blasted out against the energy cannon, which began a steady percussion. Time passed. The Battles grew proportionally worse. Craters of glass marked where patches of forest hand once stood proud.
Human cities and towns could be recognized only by the mounds of debris left piled high. Creatures roamed such places. What had once been humankind, what once had been elvinkind grew less recognizable. Yet the battles raged on. Dragons and machines of the air grew fewer and fewer to behold. Weapons that spat fire replaced those that rained energy bursts. Elvin swords, which, when raised had clove the very earth, were replaced by minor magicks, illusionary powers raised against the invaders more often than not.
The dirt that had nurtured life grew cursed and dried, worn into gritty and fused bits of sand that soon covered much of the earth. The battle raged on and mankind was slowly routed...
And throughout, tears sprang from the eyes of the man, enrapport with his computer— now a living machine, which the humans, who had colonized this world, would hardly even recognize as kindred to what they knew.
The mirage of sand swirled tornado-like. ‘Go away, Man. You were defeated. This place belongs to you not.’
:Logical, but I am afraid I cannot do that.:
The Enchantment was quiescent a moment, then replied, ‘Very well, Human.’ Energy rose in the whirlwind carried him into the sand’s open vortex.
Tests of Spirit
4
Terus dragged him, urging him forward, but Revit despaired. He could not see the cloying substance that dragged him physically back, but he could feel it clinging to him, pulling him back toward the way they had come. “Come on, you can do it!” Terus cried, pulling him forward with all his strength.
The light haired human lad gasped for breath, knowing it was futile. “I can’t, Terus! You’ve got to go on without me!”
Terus grimaced, frustrated. What felt like walking through molasses to Revit existed not at all to the elfblooded Terus, whom the Enchantment recognized and approved. “I am not leaving you here!”
Only their clasped hands, which glowed with an ethereal light, seemed to affect the thick gooey substance that barred Revit’s movement.
“Leave me, Ter!”
“Shut up!” his elfblooded best friend cried, tears blurring his gaze. A half step’s progress was made, the most they had seemed to be able to maneuver since struggling to this very spot, what seemed like hours ago.
There was a growling behind Revit. Both boys immediately tensed as a pale creature passed them, tumbling a creature of mist backward in the process. The tension around them abruptly released, catapulting Revit and Terus like a slingshot deep into the ether with shouts of surprise and no little fear.
Raven barred her long canine teeth at the imp, which burned into caricatured being before her. “So, you would interfere with me, fey one? Well, this is a place of imps, not animals. And the Enchantment rules here!”
It raised tiny smoke filled hands and cast a fireball. The beast before it swatted the ball with a paw. The imp screeched and ran as the ball of fire shot toward it. Raven lolled her tongue, thinking, ‘Stupid imp.’
Elsewhere the Gate stood wide before the sprawled and glowing figure, who clutched his blazing staff. George regained his feet and found himself confronted by a frowning Se’and, dressed in the Cathartan livery of Sire Ryff’s House just as he had first seen her.
She stood outlined by the light of the many stars revealed by the yawning Gate.
“Will you leave me, truly, my lord?” she asked in a voice of utter longing and despair.
:Staff!: distantly cried George Bradley’s subsumed consciousness.
The man looked at the image of the blond Cathartan, pulled directly from their memories. “What must be, shall be, beloved of the man’s heart.”
“!” The man tried to cry.
Arms outstretched, she pled, “Take me with you!”
“We cannot, Se’and... This world is not ours, but ours is most certainly not yours. More than culture lay between the two... Irreparable harm could be done to you by such a change in the very nature of reality, as you know it. But, were you real, not even I would seek to tell you this bitter truth. George, is this part of the knowledge of what it means to truly be human? Your anguish is mine— such as I would not have truly grasped in my previous state.”
“Take me with you!” she cried, tearing off her livery. “I can leave this behind!”
:Staff!: George screamed, the staff blazing in a glory that washed away the image of the woman before them. He welled up from the depths of crystalline perfection and the enchantment took on a grimmer sharpness all about them.
Tightening his grip, Staff ruthlessly suppressed the rapport. “George, this is the way it must be for the moment. I enjoy this not at all, my friend...” as the human aspect withdrew the feeling of menace faded back into the crystal. The computer staff returned to a gentler glow as the man slowly turned away to proceed –– only to be confronted by yet another image.
Frowning, he mentally reached. Solidity. Mass. Shape and volume. Respiration at—
The supine sleeping boy lay wrapped in thick furs. Abruptly a familiar light flared, appearing to emanate from the necklace about his throat. The boy bolted to a seated position and turned to stare at him.
There was a crystalline jewel embedded in the necklace, which Staff recognized— yet did not. Data transfer was offered as the light entwined. Two pair of eyes widened and a third mind trembled in incredulous recognition. “Casber?”
Balfour’s nephew in faraway Winome swallowed hard, “Uh, if I’m daydreaming again, Father will have my head!” He stared hard and muttered, “Je�
�orj?”
The Enchantment quivered. Something was very wrong.
Casber was abruptly distant, then so faint that only the light remained in Staff’s mind to say that a machine, like itself, now existed, nestled about a shepherd’s throat. The Gate flickered as if realities were at issue, then the man/machine found themselves elsewhere yet again.
“Uh, where are we?” Revit murmured, raising his head ever so carefully.
“What makes you think I have any idea?” Terus replied.
“You’ve the blood, I don’t!”
“Oh, really? You mean that this is all my fault?”
The wisp stared at the two arguing lads that had invaded its realm. “DO SHUT UP, PUNKS! YOUR WORDS A FOULING THE VERY AIR!”
Revit and Terus stopped and stared. The wisp faintly glowed an angry orange. “MUCH BETTER. NOW WHAT’S A HUMAN BOY DOING HERE? DON’T TELL ME, COUSIN, THAT YOU’VE JUST DISCOVERED THE SPECIES AND MEAN TO SHOW IT TO THE GUILD?”
Terus frowned, then mischievously smiled, “Well, if I can bring him through, they will have to make me a Master, now won’t they?”
Revit fought not to grin. Wisps were said to be incredibly gullible, at times.
The wisp paused to consider. “NOW, HAD THE HUMAN SAID THAT, COUSIN, I WOULD KNOW IT FOR A LIE... AREN’T YOU A LITTLE YOUNG TO BE TRYING FOR RECOGNITION AS A MAGE?”
“So, that spell has proven effective. I have not only fooled this child, here, but a wisp! How grand!” exclaimed Terus, his eyes shining with delight.
Revit now held his breath.
The wisp paused to consider this long and hard, then it ventured, “IF YOU ARE SUCH A POWERFUL MAGE, COUSIN, WHY DO YOU NOT SHOW ME ONE OF YOUR TRICKS?”
