by Larry Crow
A few days passed. All was quiet.
The great door of the mountain once again opened and the wizard again walked toward to the escarpment high above the desert floor.
Baalsa'n raised his hand, extending it in a great sweeping motion. The surface of the land seemed to fold, to bend to some demand to do so.
He willed a view of Barnota, the seaport on the distant eastern shoreline of the Wasteland, and it rose before him.
Looking nearer, he saw a man walking along the dock through the morning fog. He watched him amble along the boardwalk, carrying his belongings stuffed into the duffel thrown over his shoulder. He trudged along under the weight.
Quickly he engulfed the man with a great flash of light, streaming around and blinding him. Surprised, the man stumbled, almost falling. He dropped his burden and raised his hands to shield his eyes from the light erupting around him.
"Mano’n!" a voice thundered.
"Baalsa'n?" Mano’n asked hesitantly. He tried to peer into the light, but he knew who called his name.
"In deed," Baalsa'n answered. A soft rumbling, but demanding, voice rolled from the brightness, "You must come to Esclar'e. We must begin. Now."
As suddenly as it had appeared, the light vanished.
Mano’n staggered from the release. He shook his head to clear his vision. He looked around to determine if anyone else saw, but the dock was empty.
From all around came the sounds of the sea; horns hauntingly blaring their purpose into the night; birds gathered here and there along the dock noisily waiting for the sun.
The air was of the water, moist and salty; the sky was leaden with moisture. Out beyond the edge, the first light glinted off the water, smooth with no breeze to ruffle it, moving in the rhythms of the slow progress of the tide.
With a grimace, he looked out over the water and shook his head, a haunting look in his eyes; something was unfinished inside him.
He shrugged his shoulders to relax his tension, turned, picked up his duffel and hurriedly walked away; the fog folding behind his passing.
Meanwhile, Baalsa'n turned his attention to other concerns; he assumed his orders would be obeyed.