What could one do with so much emptiness?
That was the question that pervaded Dru’s thoughts as he continued to float helplessly in… in… this void, he finally decided. It was a shorter, more succinct name and, more importantly, had pushed back his boredom for at least a hundred or so breaths.
Breaths. There was no way of telling time here, if time was even a familiar concept in this nondimension. The number of breaths he took was the only way he could make any estimate. Even then, it was tricky, for Dru had discovered earlier that it was not necessary to breathe in the Void.
He was at a loss as to what to do. Several failed attempts had proven to him the uselessness of Vraad sorcery here. That had come as a shock. Even with all the chaos on Nimth, Dru had never conceived that there might be a time when he had no sorcery at his command. There had been times when he had abstained from the use of it, but he had always known the magic was ready should he need it.
In growing desperation, he had tried pushing himself along with his arms and legs, an awkward parody of swimming. There were problems with that, however, chief among them being that it was impossible to tell if he was making any progress. Everything looked the same and he could feel nothing on his face. He soon gave the attempt up. Where was there to go, even if he was moving? There was nothing to see from his position save for more nothing.
A part of him did marvel at this place, however. The realm beyond the veil had been amazing enough, but this was truly something the Vraad had never conceived of in all their years. What was the Void? he wondered. Just emptiness? If he had accidentally fallen into it, had others? If so, what had happened to them?
With nothing else to do, Dru chose to rest. He was only now feeling the exhaustion caused by his transition from Nimth to this place. Perhaps, the sorcerer hoped, when he was rested he would be able to conceive a feasible plan. Perhaps something in his surroundings would change by the time he woke.
No sooner had he closed his eyes than he opened them again with a start. Suddenly Dru felt refreshed, as if he had slept for hours. The Vraad frowned, puzzled at the change. What could have given him so much energy?
Then a tiny orb floated into his range of vision. It shocked him at first, being the one object other than himself that he had seen, but then he recognized it as one of his own possessions. As he retrieved it, he noted other objects from his pockets. They all floated in lazy fashion about his person. Two questions were answered then. He was moving, albeit at an incredibly slow rate, else his belongings would have been scattered farther apart. He had also slept, yet there had been no feeling of time passage. It dawned on Dru then that he might float here for the rest of… of whatever… with only sleep to entertain him.
It was a Vraadish version of hell.
One by one the sorcerer retrieved his errant possessions, studying each in turn in the hopes of finding something that would aid him in his escape from this horrible place. They were all useless trinkets now, even the ones that had once been his most powerful tools. Everything he had derived from Vraad sorcery… and he could not touch upon that here, it seemed.
In a fit of anger, he took a hand mirror, once used for scrying but now only sufficient for staring at his frustrated features, and threw it from him. To his horror, while the mirror went one way, he went the opposite. Not far at first, but far enough so that the remainder of his escaped items were now out of reach.
The horror was quickly exchanged with an almost childlike glee. He could travel. There might not be anything to find, but at least Dru now knew that he could explore. His exploring was limited, however. Waving his arms did little to keep him moving; throwing an object in the opposite direction—a nebulous term at best—was the only way to assure himself of momentum.
Reaching into one of his voluminous pockets, he pulled out the orb that had originally begun the present chain of events. It was no more than a piece of metal now, but one that should start him on his way. Using the other floating trinkets as his means of perspective, the sorcerer threw the orb. His momentum was not great, but he slowly returned to somewhere very near his earlier position. Utilizing the cloak he wore, Dru scooped up as many of the other pieces as he could. He might need them later.
The drifting spellcaster’s present course took him nowhere in particular, which was the only place to go in the Void. Nonetheless, he now had purpose. As he floated, an act he more or less had to assume, he kept watch for something, anything, that might also exist here.
His euphoria passed into boredom again without one change in his surroundings. Dru could not say whether he had been floating for a very long time, but he knew that more than a thousand breaths had passed before he lost count. Still his eyes were greeted with nothing, great and endless quantities of nothing. There was nothing as far as the eye could see. Dru wondered if he would know when he finally turned completely mad at the sight… if one could call emptiness a sight.
Then, an object in the distance caught his eyes. It was only a speck, but, in so much emptiness, it stood out like a glittering crystal beacon. Dru discarded another of his items and altered his direction. Perspective was a problem, he realized. The object might be very close and very small or it might be far, far away and larger than his castle of pearl.
More than two hundred breaths passed before he was close enough to make out what it was. Deep disappointment vied with the simple pleasure of actually touching something else.
It was a rock. A jagged, brown rock that looked as if it had been torn from some hillside.
Through sheer luck, he had aimed himself near enough so that the rock would pass within arm’s reach of him. As the two of them closed the gap, Dru stretched his left arm out, intending on taking hold of the object and using it to send him in another direction.
He caught the rock… and was sent spinning away madly, his arm twisted back and wracked with mind-piercing pain. The rock continued on its oblivious way.
Despite the agony, the calculating portion of Dru’s mind knew what had happened. He had assumed, because it seemed to float so serenely, that the massive stone had been moving slowly. Not so. The Void had played him for a fool. Perhaps the rock had been falling when it entered this place; he could not be certain. Dru only knew that what he had tried to catch had been moving faster than the swiftest steed, so fast, in fact, that it had broken his arm.
It was an arm that would remain broken, too, for he had no sorcery with which to repair it.
With deliberate effort, he forced himself to put the broken limb back in place. It was a difficult enough task, what with the unceasing spin. Dru screamed readily, unashamed to do so since no one would hear him. Pain gripped him without pause. Once he had the arm back the way it should have been, he pulled off his cloak and turned it into a sling of sorts.
The pain still rocked him, but Dru knew he would have to live with that. His next quest was to cease his twirling before he grew too dizzy. The arm was draining his strength too much already.
How could he stop himself? Dru reached into his pocket, but the angle at which he was spinning made it an awkward movement that in turn put pressure on his broken limb. The Vraad screamed again and nearly passed out.
“It does! It makes sounds! Loud ones!”
The voice seemed to boom within his head. Through tear-drenched eyes, Dru hurriedly scanned his vicinity. More nothing, yet… he had heard a voice. Felt was perhaps just as good a description, but the point was that he was not alone.
So where was the other?
“Hello, little one! Do you talk? I am coming to you!”
“Where?” the sorcerer managed to choke out. His arm was on fire now; at least, that was how it felt.
“You do talk! Patience, patience! This is one is not far!”
Dru screamed once more, but not because of pain. He screamed now because the emptiness to his right had suddenly burst into a huge, ever-shifting field of darkness. His first thought was that it was the point of intersection and he had somehow been drawn back to it. Then it
shifted form, as if an inky liquid. It was no liquid, however; Dru, staring at it, felt himself seem to fall toward the thing, as if it were a bottomless pit and he had been thrown into it. Fear battled with pain.
The massive blot changed form again, solidifying a bit. The falling sensation passed.
“There! That is better!”
“What—what’s better?” He could still see no sign of the newcomer. Was the blot his method of travel? Is that why Dru had felt he could fall into it? Hope for an escape from the Void stimulated him. “Where are you?”
“Here! Where else is there, little voice?”
“But…” The sorcerer’s gaze narrowed on the inky darkness through which he had expected the other to enter. “Are you… is that…”
This time, he saw the darkness quiver. “You are a funny thing! I will not have you join with me yet!”
The blot was no path, save perhaps to death. It was, despite Dru’s inner protest, a living thing. It was the voice he had heard in his head.
“What do you mean about ‘joining with you’?”
The sensation of falling into the darkness overwhelmed him once more. It lasted only a moment, however. That was far and away more than enough for Dru. It was all he could do to keep from passing out.
“I have not taken from you, have I? You seem to be less than whole.” The thing sounded annoyed, as if it had underestimated itself.
“My arm… this”—he indicated the broken appendage—“I injured it badly.”
“Injured?”
Did this monstrosity not comprehend pain? the sorcerer wondered. Perhaps not. How could one harm a blot?
“It does not work properly.”
“Silly little voice! Take it in and make another!”
Now it was Dru who did not comprehend again. “Take it in?”
“As I.” A crude limb formed, little more than a narrow bit of darkness. It stretched forth for nearly a yard, then slowly sank back into the primary mass of the blot. “How else?”
Dru shook his head, partly in response and partly because it kept him conscious. “I cannot do what you do and the way I heal does not work here.”
“Too bad! Would you prefer I take you now? You will no longer know pain.”
“No!”
“Your voice grows! I must try that!” The blot commenced with a variety of sounds, some higher and some lower than what so far had passed for its voice. Dru did not interrupt; if such entertainment took the creature’s mind from the prospect of devouring him, then so much the better. As it was, the agony continually raking through his system was making it impossible to think of any other way to save himself.
The ever-shifting creature’s interest in the noises it was making soon waned. “Not so much fun after all! Tell me, one of many voices, why you cannot do like I do?”
It took Dru a moment to realize his unnerving companion was speaking of the broken arm again. “I am a man. A Vraad. We can shift our forms, but not like you and not without sorcery.”
“What is sorcery?”
This creature did not know what sorcery was? The Vraad was astonished. Based on what little he had already seen, Dru was certain that the entity was part inherent magic itself. How else to explain its existence and its method of travel?
If he could somehow get it to take him back to Nimth…
“It’s…” Pain made him grimace. “It’s an ability that allows one to change things about them.”
“What is there to change? With the exception of curious little entertainments—like you—all is as it always is.”
Dru shook his head. “Not where I come from. If I was there, for instance, I could make this arm work properly again. I could make the hair on my head”—he indicated each part of his body that he spoke of in case the creature did not understand—“so long that it would go down to my knees.”
“Is that all? I know this ‘sorcery’!”
“So I thought. Tell me—do you have a name?”
“Name?”
“I am Dru. Dru is my name. If we had a third voice with us and he wanted to speak to me but not you, he would say something like ‘I will speak with Dru.’” The explanation sounded weak to the sorcerer, but it was the best he could do. Unconsciousness was becoming more and more inviting and he did not dare let that happen until he was certain he would wake up again.
The mass of darkness grew and shrunk, twisted and reshaped itself. Several breaths passed before it finally replied. “I am ‘I’ or ‘Other.’”
“No…” Dru held his forehead as he tried to think. “That’s not what… not what…”
“Come! This is too interesting! Do not fade away!”
The Vraad shrieked as raw power filled his being. He felt both omnipotent and helpless. The world was at his beck and call, yet he was the lowest form of existence. Pain and rapture tossed him from one to another like a rag doll.
He was suddenly himself again and the initial sensation was like striking the earth after falling from the highest peak. When that had passed, Dru found himself feeling stronger and more alive than he had ever felt before. The amazed spellcaster undid the makeshift sling; his arm was whole again!
“You were saying I could not be called ‘I’! Why is that?”
Dru flexed the arm. It was perfect. “You did this?”
“You did not finish explaining this thing about names and I thought I would help if I gave to you a little of I!”
“Thank you.” His mind as clear of fog as the Void was of everything but itself, Dru asked a question that had just occurred to him. “How is it we can speak? Are you—?”
“We speak because I wished to speak! That is nothing! I want to know about names!” The darkness shifted menacingly.
The entity had somehow picked at his surface thoughts, the sorcerer suspected, and learned the language of the Vraad instantly in that way. Yet, it did not understand many concepts, which either meant that it lacked the power to delve deeper or it had not wanted to damage him. Dru was willing to bet on the latter.
“Perhaps I shall take you now.”
“Names!” Dru shouted with such vehemence that the living hole shifted away despite its obvious superiority. “What do you want to know?”
“Know? I want a name! Can I be Dru also?”
“That wouldn’t do for you.” A huge, living pit of darkness bearing his name! It might have been humorous if his predicament had not been so tense.
“What, then?”
What, indeed? If he could give the creature some name it found entertaining enough, it might reward him by helping to find a way out of here… providing there was one.
Descriptions! Descriptions were always a good starting point! “Let’s draw a name from the way you look and act.”
“I act like me!”
“But what are you? Powerful, ever-changing, dark, compassionate…” Dru trailed off, hoping his strange companion would pick up on the flattery while it pondered what it wished to be called. At this point, ingratiating himself in any way to the shifting horror seemed his only hope.
“I am all that and more, but ‘Powerfuleverchangingdark’ is too long a name for my tastes! I want something short, like you have!”
The sorcerer was willing to just fling names at the monster and let it pick one, but he suspected that such an act might just bore the entity into forgetting the entire thing. If that happened, the blot might decide it was time to absorb him.
The mass of darkness pulsated, evidently pondering its choices so far. Apparently unable to come to any decision, it flowed nearer to the hapless mage and said, “I see only me! I cannot describe me! Give me more to choose from!”
Dru took a deep breath. Much of what he would have liked to have said would probably stir the dark creature to anger. Still, it might pick up on something… “I was not whole when you first came to me, so my thoughts were muddled… there was a burst… the darkness was suddenly there before me… where there had only been emptiness before.” The nebulou
s form was still. “I thought you were a hole yourself, an emptiness that led to… to a place far from where I float now. I—”
“I like that! That will be my name!”
“Your name?” Already? What had he said?
“Not so short as yours, but I am more than you! It has good, strong sounds!”
After a brief moment of soul-searching, the Vraad dared ask, “What is your name now?”
“I am the Darkness! Does it not ring with me?”
“Ring with…” Dru could not help smiling. “Darkness is truly a good name for you!”
Darkness shifted form again and again, openly gleeful about its new possession. “A name! I have a name! It is a good thing!”
“No one can take it from you, either. No matter what they do it will always be yours.” The sorcerer was reminded of Sharissa as a tiny child. The blot—Darkness, Dru corrected himself—was as much an infant as a godlike entity.
Sharissa. Thinking of her made Dru double his efforts now to gain his odd companion’s aid.
“I’ve helped to give you that name, Darkness,” he pointedly reminded the other. “Will you give me something now?”
“You wish to be taken? Very well—”
“I do not wish to be taken! No, I want you to help me find my way home. You have the power, don’t you?”
Swelling, Darkness responded, “I can do anything… and if I cannot, then Other I can!”
Dru puzzled over the being’s words. “‘Other I’?”
“The one from which Darkness was formed, of course!”
“Of course.” The sorcerer decided not to press, suspecting he would not care for the answer.
“So tell me… Dru… what ‘home’ is.”
Another concept his companion did not understand. “Home is where I came from, where I stay when I am not doing anything—hmmm—where I was made.” He spread his arms wide. “The Void is your home, though you were only made in one particular portion of it.”
An appendage rose from the creature’s disturbing form. It came toward Dru, pausing only a foot or two from him. To his surprise, part of it folded away, revealing… an eye. It was an ice-blue eye with no pupil and a stare that made the Vraad turn away before he became lost in it. Darkness pulled the ghastly eye away, using it to scan their very meager surroundings.
Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. II Page 39
