“Presumably, yes.” Zelin said. “But we cannot know if this would resurrect Yan, Tarthur.”
“But there is a chance, isn’t there?” Tarthur was pressing his question forward, trying to make Zelin confirm something that he could not possibly know. “If there’s any chance at all we need to take it.”
Zelin smiled at Tarthur to reassure him. “There is a chance, yes. But, remember, when an alahim transforms into something, that object still exists independently of the shapeshifter. Rather than becoming an object, he becomes a copy of the object. If Yan were to transform into this table, there would be two tables in the room. Now, since the Power of Air was lost to the world, I do not know if Yan transformed into a copy of the Power of Air or the Power of Air itself. It may be that the Power of Air that is restored by Tivu will have nothing to do with Yan.”
Tarthur nodded, comprehending. After all, Tarthur was a relatively powerful magician himself, and transmorphication was his specialty. He had read every book that he could find relating to shapeshifters. Unfortunately, no books existed that offered him insight on how to revive someone who had been sent out of the world.
“Still,” Addyean interjected, “even if we do not succeed in reviving Yan, it is important for us to try to reclaim the Power of Air. We already have control over the other three powers, and this would safeguard our realm for decades to come.”
All three were in agreement on the last point. They all recognized the importance of obtaining the power of the four elemental forces.
“So what do we do, then?” Tarthur cut straight to the point. “The most reasonable course of action seems to go to Walis and have a talk with Tivu.”
Zelin shook his head. “I do not believe that is our best course of action at the moment. First, we must learn everything we can about the One and the Wall of Glass. There are several prophecies, but they will not all turn out to be correct. We must also check all of the known manuscripts to see if there is anything that has gone unnoticed. We cannot trust Tivu. We can only trust that he will do everything possible to get into the Eternal Vale, but I do not know what he would sacrifice to make it there.”
Tarthur pondered Zelin’s words for a moment. “So we will head to the library of Deguz, then?” Tarthur had been to the library a few times before. Anyone who had known Tarthur as a teenager would have been more than a little surprised that he now not only knew how to read but even enjoyed going to libraries. Change was the way of the world. In his youth Tarthur had mocked Baron Morty for being forced to spend all day with a tutor, yet recently Tarthur had donated the funds to start up a local school for the children of Krendon and the neighboring environs.
“That is the best place for now. Once we get there, we may be able to discern more about who the One is.” Zelin spoke as if he was dreading any travel. They would take the wagon, but the trip would still be difficult for the old man. “Once there, we will make a new plan. Perhaps I can stay at the library and search old documents while you follow leads,” he finished, pointing at Tarthur.
“I will join you also,” Addyean added. “The planting season does not begin for many months, and I was planning to let the majority of my fields lie fallow this year anyway.” Addyean worked hard farming the land, although he was a spy for King Garkin. He was a good spy, but Tarthur believed his heart was really in the land that he tilled.
Tarthur was so excited to begin his journey that he had quite forgotten about his family. He asked his question haltingly. “What about Yvonne and Alahim?” As a family, they had traveled together to many places in Daranor, but they had just returned from a trip to the metropolis of Freeton and as Yvonne had aged, she had become more comfortable living a home life. Alahim, too, while he liked to travel, did not have Tarthur’s burning desire for adventure. He was just starting a new class at school.
“It is up to them,” Zelin responded. “I am old and cannot travel fast at any rate. Having two more people will not slow us down. Now,” He said with finality that closed the discussion, “Tarthur, can you go to Judith and let her know that we once again need food packed for us?”
Tarthur left Zelin’s house visibly excited. He was trying not to get his hopes up too much, because he knew that they very well could be chasing phantom illusions and false prophecies.
It was well past midnight but not yet dawn when Tarthur finally returned home, opening the door to see Yvonne dozing in her rocking chair. Tarthur cringed as he suddenly realized that he had lost track of time. His wife must have put Alahim to bed in his room upstairs while she waited up for Tarthur. The gentle rocking of the chair was too much for her, however, and she had finally given in to slumber. Yvonne had been a light sleeper since her youth, and as Tarthur closed the door the creak of the hinges woke her.
“Where were you? I was starting to get worried.” Yvonne’s tone had a faint hint of irritability in it, both from concern over Tarthur and displeasure at having been awakened so suddenly. “You missed our son’s birthday, you know.”
Tarthur winced. “I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to Alahim tomorrow. I got called to a meeting at Zelin’s, and it looks like it might finally be time!”
Yvonne did not ask what time it was and Tarthur knew she didn’t have to. More than anyone, she knew of her husband’s obsessive quest to find some way to bring Yan back to the world of the living. She was the one who wiped the sweat from his brow each time he woke up screaming, “You don’t have to! There is another way!” in the middle of the night.
When she spoke, she was almost relieved. “So what happens now?”
“We are traveling to the library of Deguz. Zelin wants to check up on the prophecy there to see if there are any clues as to who ‘the One’ might be. We must leave the day after tomorrow.” Tarthur talked breathlessly. In his mind, it was like he was already halfway there.
“We?” Yvonne asked.
“Well, we—Zelin, Addyean and I. But I would like you and Alahim to come as well.”
Yvonne thought about it for a moment. They had been traveling for the past few months, and Tarthur knew she had been looking forward to spending some peaceful time at home with Alahim. “I’m not sure, Tarthur. I mean, we just got back, and Alahim’s school is starting…”
Tarthur felt the pit of his stomach drop out. He didn’t want to be separated from Yvonne and Alahim. Still, he knew it was a lot to ask. Also, he did not want to put his wife and son in any danger. Thinking of them being attacked sent shivers down Tarthur’s spine. Plus, despite what Zelin had said, it would be faster without them. “Well, how about this, then,” Tarthur floated his compromise. “You will stay here while Zelin and I research the prophecy. Then, once we know where we are going, perhaps you can join us later.”
Yvonne nodded several times as she was mulling it over in her head. After fifteen years of living together, Yvonne was remarkably good at accepting compromises, as long as they were reasonable. This plan would not disrupt Alahim’s life drastically. She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, why don’t we sleep on it and talk about it in the morning? It’s too late tonight….”
Tarthur agreed. He helped Yvonne up from her chair and brought her into their bedroom where he laid her softly down on the bed. He slipped off his boots and went to change into his nightclothes.
Lying silently awake together that night, both thought of the coming months with apprehension. After fifteen years, it wasn’t as if the obsession with Yan had completely taken Tarthur over. Time had brought acceptance. Rather, it was just that there was enough of it there that was always lurking under the surface, ready to spring up at unpredictable moments.
She turned her body towards him and set her head down on his chest. Tarthur put his arm around her and held her close. He knew his heart was beating furiously with a mixture of excitement and worry, pounding away close to her ear.
Unable to sleep, after a few minutes she turned away, fixing her eyes on the far wall. Tarthur shifted his weight, moving closer to her. He stroked her smoot
h golden hair, gently placing it on the pillow next to her. He leaned in and kissed her softly on the point of her chin before whispering words of reassurance into her ear. He allowed himself to linger for just a moment longer, inhaling through his nose and taking in her distinctive, familiar smell. She no longer wore the perfume that gave her the fiery cool scent that had given Tarthur a smooth burn the first time they met. He closed his eyes, trying to etch Yvonne’s essence in his memory so that he could turn to it in the days ahead
He hoped to see Yvonne and Alahim soon after he determined whether or not it would be possible to return Yan, probably within a few weeks or months. The lessons of history were not lost on Tarthur, however. He remembered when he and Derlin had set out on a ‘two-day’ journey north to see the merwizard. They had been swept up in a storm of events that did not allow them to return for more than a year, and they were very lucky to have returned at all.
Finally, sleep overcame them both as the first grey streaks of dawn were just beginning to peak over the horizon.
Over the next two days they talked about their decision again, and Tarthur agreed to leave Yvonne and Alahim in Krendon, at least until he had a better idea of what the arrival of the Shade of Tivu meant and whether or not Yvonne and Alahim would be in any danger.
Now, Yvonne stood waiting to say her goodbyes at the edge of town. She was wearing a loose-fitting white and yellow dress that was tight about her waist and wrists. Alahim pressed against her leg and held her tenderly. He was usually more independent, but in times of impending crisis, he sometimes reverted to a more childish state. She didn’t believe he understood everything that was happening, but she could see he knew it was important for his father to leave for awhile. Yvonne had always been proud of how perceptive Alahim was. She could tell he was apprehensive by the way he stared off into the distance, as though if he looked far enough he could see what the future held. Although Tarthur had traveled alone many times before, the sense in the air was that this time unfamiliar dangers lurked beyond the horizon.
Zelin was too old to ride comfortably, so they had loaded everything into a wagon drawn by four horses. Addyean would drive, and Tarthur and Zelin were set to ride in the back. Zelin had packed numerous bags as well as two large trunks overflowing with magical equipment. Tarthur and Addyean were straining as they lifted everything. Books, powders, and scales landed with a crunch on the wagon floor. The way the wagon wheels visibly sank, even into the hard-packed earth, made Yvonne feel sorry for the horses. Zelin looked like he planned to spend a great deal of time in Deguz, and wanted to be prepared for everything.
Addyean was helping Zelin into the wagon as Tarthur said goodbye. She wasn’t sure what to say.
“If there’s even a chance…” Tarthur started to say.
Yvonne stepped forward and brought a finger to his lips to quiet him. “I know,” she said. Her gaze wandered over to her son. “We know,” she amended. Alahim was reminded of the lost shapeshifter every time someone spoke his name.
“The time will pass swiftly,” Tarthur said. He had never been known for his eloquence.
Yvonne forced a smile. “We will see you soon in Deguz or Tealsburg perhaps.”
Tarthur smiled back, and reached down to rustle Alahim’s hair. “Take good care of your mom while I’m gone. You’re the man of the house now!” It wasn’t the first time he had said it, but this time Alahim beamed as if Tarthur meant it more than ever.
Tarthur and Yvonne embraced once more, and then he hopped up into the wagon. Addyean gave the order to the team and they started away down the king’s highway.
Zelin took a long look back at the small village he had lived in for centuries, the village that he had watched over and protected. He was the only one who knew that this would be the last time he ever looked upon Krendon.
***********************
Tarthur peered out the back of the covered wagon to see the awesome form of the Tabletop Plateau off to his left. There were actually several separate plateaus that abruptly rose above the plain. Tarthur let his gaze drift upward, mentally filling in the mountaintops that were missing, as if some gigantic sword had sliced them off eons ago. Would those mountains have been larger than those guarding the Eternal Vale?
The various plateaus were crisscrossed with goblin caves. No one knew for sure how many goblins and other creatures lived there, but there was a rumor of an entire city underground. In the last war, what was now being referred to as the War of the Orb, Queen Marhyn, had hidden a portion of her army in those caves. Queen Marhyn was the sister of the Death Lord Darhyn and a potent sorceress herself. They had led a surprise attack against the company of the king’s army commanded by General Cilio. Two ferocious personal confrontations had decided the fate of the battle that day. Yan, fighting as a dragon, had defeated a body replica of Queen Marhyn and her black dragon. Yonathan, aided by the Light Sword and fighting to avenge the destruction of Freeton, had killed General Lithar Lifehater. Yan’s victory over Queen Marhyn’s double had destroyed the brain of her army, while Yonathan’s victory had destroyed its heart.
It had been about two weeks since they had left Krendon. They weren’t overexerting the horses, yet they were still making good time. They had stopped in Tealsburg for two nights to resupply their provisions and to hear news from the intelligence network. The king had a fantastic network of spies spread throughout the kingdom. There was no new information, however. As far as anyone knew, Tivu was still appearing, and his pleadings had become more urgent.
Tarthur turned to look at Zelin. The old man seemed to be doing well. Although he wanted to press on and get to Deguz as quickly as possible, Tarthur was actually enjoying the trip very much. Being a fellow magician, Tarthur frequently worked with Zelin on magical problems, but he still couldn’t say that he really knew the man well. He was relishing this chance to get to know the magician better and to drink from his vast cup of knowledge. “Zelin, what happened to those mountain tops?”
The old wizard simply shrugged his shoulders and replied. “I don’t know.”
It was rare that Zelin flat out admitted not knowing something fundamental about the world, so Tarthur decided to press with a half-joke. “I thought you knew everything. Isn’t that why you’re the most powerful wizard on the face of Daranor?”
Zelin responded with a half-chuckle, deflecting away Tarthur’s question. “I’m afraid you still share many of the common misconceptions of the world, Tarthur. Knowledge is not the same thing as power.”
Tarthur pushed the conversation further. “They are not the same, yet, they are related. Knowledge leads to power. You might call power the child of knowledge. Just as one man who unlocks the secrets of forging iron into a sword can defeat two unarmed opponents, the man with more knowledge can defeat the man with less. The ability to defeat another—that is power.”
“Power is the ability to affect the workings of the world and bend them, even in only some small way, to your own will.” Zelin replied in a calm voice. “The knowledge of one man, when shared, increases the power of many. What if your blacksmith loses his weapon by the side of the forest? The one who finds it can defeat him. His knowledge has led to others having power over him.”
Tarthur tried to force the argument into a conclusion he knew Zelin couldn’t support. “So, are you saying we shouldn’t try to obtain or disseminate any knowledge, because it might come back to hurt us later?”
Zelin’s pause made Tarthur wonder if the question was more valid than he had originally thought. The wizard looked around at his magical books. For the first time Tarthur wondered what it had cost to gain the information hidden behind their worn leather bindings. Had the first person who discovered how to call forth the power of fire burnt himself? Did the first man to enchant an ax to aid his chores chop down his house…or worse?
“In general, we must still try to obtain information, but we must do so with another quality, something that I’m afraid is often no more than a distant cousin to knowledg
e, and even more unrelated to power—wisdom. We need power, because it can help us to do good in the world. Yet, because the universe constantly tends to disorder, it is always easier to destroy than to build.”
Tarthur took a moment to reflect on what Zelin was saying, as the old wizard continued. “So with each greater power that we uncover, the danger of its misuse becomes ever greater. There is some knowledge where the temptation to use the power discerned is too strong—no one yet has been able to unlock it without unleashing havoc on the world. Not that many have tried, but the names Frehu, Darhyn and Marhyn spring immediately to mind.”
Although usually reserved, once Zelin got to speaking on a certain topic, he would expound on it at length, laying out not only his position, but the positions of others with opposing views and why he considered them flawed.
“The triangular relationship of the human mind, body, and soul is perhaps the greatest mystery we have. I yearn to understand this completely, yet doing so would require sacrificing one part to understand how it functions in the whole. I would pay a great price to learn this, but we cannot pay the price of destroying innocent lives. The ends cannot always justify the means, because what ends may come cannot be known in advance. Beware those who promise that good will come from the evil that they are bringing.”
“What if a large good can come from a small evil? Surely it is worth a few lives to gain incredible knowledge!”
Lands of Daranor: Book 02 - ProphecyQuest Page 3
