by Jeff Inlo
Chapter 5
“Hello, brother.” The voice that greeted Enin filled the air with emotion, and this emotion spanned the spectrum of feelings. It held joy drifting toward anger, happiness betrayed by sadness, enthusiasm cut off by indifference. The inhabitant of this otherwise hollow region made no attempt to temper the tone of his voice. Instead, he allowed the opposing passions of these two simple words to vibrate incessantly around the space of this shadowy realm that he himself created.
Enin firmed himself against the icy shivers that always rode down his spine whenever he entered this place. He could feel the intense emotions biting at his very flesh and the cold tingle reminded him just how much he hated coming here. He spoke quickly in response as if hoping to brush off any lasting echoes or at the very least to quickly diminish the sentiment of the greeting.
“I am not your brother, Baannat.”
Enin’s tone held no such dueling emotional ambiguity. His words rang quite clearly of caution and distrust.
Baannat, however, was not so easily swayed. Even more emotion spilled out of his words that followed.
“Not brothers? Well, no. Perhaps not in the way lesser creatures see relations, but you have to admit they are rather limited in their understanding of things. Sometimes you have to go beyond the limits, expand your definition. Think of that, brother. We do that all the time, you and I. We constantly expand what we can do, what we can sense, what we understand. In this context, we are more closely related than these inferior things that call themselves siblings. Just because they spilled out of the same mindless creature that bore them, that’s enough for them to feel some kind of bond. You wish to ignore the bond we have? You acknowledge it every time you come here. We certainly are brothers. Look at the similarities. It goes far beyond our simple meetings here, it goes to the very breadth of our abilities, abilities that no other can match. We both cast white magic, and we both cast with two perfect circles…”
“That is where the similarities end.”
“Perhaps they do, but in that alone we are more alike than any so-called ‘relation’ of these lesser beings with which you tend to waste so much time.”
In truth, Enin could not be exactly sure if there were any further similarities, for while Baannat was eager to be heard, he remained less willing to be seen. He masked his visual presence from Enin with shadow and distortion. Enin never got a good look at his adversary, thus he could only guess as to what Baannat truly was. Despite this lack of knowledge, Enin remained resolute in his belief that he had little in common with Baannat, and they were certainly not brothers.
“We are not alike, we are very much opposite,” Enin stated.
Baannat almost allowed a cackle to slip across his tongue, but he held it back in order to torment his guest further. “Opposites, you’ve talked about that with me before, haven’t you? Opposing sides and such, it is almost necessary according to your concept of existence. It is all for the sake of balance. Isn’t that what you always say? And balance is so very important. It explains those things which you can’t explain. Perfection is impossible to obtain because perfection is out of balance. These lesser creatures must face hardships for the sake of balance.”
“That is only part of it,” Enin replied stoically.
“And what are the other parts again?”
“You know them as well as I do. Lessons need to be learned. Paths need to be followed. When the time comes, decisions need to be made. These ‘lesser beings’, as you refer to them, must be allowed to make certain choices…”
“But not everything is a choice,” Baannat quickly interrupted.
“Choices must be made without prejudice—with balance.”
“And is that why you won’t act against this serp that is currently making problems for you and your friends? You’re afraid of tipping the balance?”
At the mention of the serp, Enin grew slightly more suspicious of Baannat. He had not mentioned Sazar as of yet, but in truth, that meant little. Baannat certainly had ways to see into the land, to know of events as they happened. It was not beyond reason to expect that Baannat knew of the serp’s actions.
“I do not act for many reasons, it’s not my time, nor is it my place,” Enin declared with a distinct tone of certainty. “I will not interfere in the workings of grander designs.”
“Ahh, when we don’t talk about balance we always come back to these thoughts of destiny and fate. You think we all have some part to play in this grand scheme, it’s all pretty much set in stone.”
“No, not set in stone, as I’ve said to you many times before. The event may be set, but the choice is not. I’ve tried to explain it to you, but you just can’t grasp it. Is it because you can’t see it?”
“I see everything that is important to see,” Baannat growled with more than a hint of displeasure.
“Your weakness,” Enin noted. “You don’t like to admit that there are things beyond your understanding.”
“There are many more beyond yours.” This time, there existed a great mix of emotion in these words, and again, Baannat allowed the depth of these opposing feelings to pulsate freely through the air of his realm.
Enin did his best to brush the vibrations from his being. “Those things I do not understand, I do not wish to know. It does not benefit me to know why some twisted individuals gain favor in taking advantage of others. I do not profit from insight of actions spawned by selfish greed. And I certainly do not grow in spirit from understanding why some beings, whether they be lesser or greater, would choose to bring pain and torment to the innocent. You have clearly probed such things, and you understand them far better than I. With that, there is one clear truth—this knowledge has not strengthened you in any way shape or form.”
“One day you will discover that is not as clear a truth as you would like to believe,” Baannat growled, holding only the emotion of hate.
“That day shall not come to pass.”
Baannat’s tone returned to its previous mix of emotions—the hate remaining, but mixed in with so many other trembling sentiments. “And yet again we return to the anchor of your miscalculated beliefs, your ideas of fate. You think you won’t have to face me because it falls to this delver. You keep on believing that.”
Thinking of the delver, Enin allowed his own passions to stir much more intensely. “And you go right on hoping you won’t have to face Ryson Acumen. He senses you.” With that said, Enin seized on a new vibration he had not felt before. “You know that, don’t you? You are aware the delver can feel your presence, even though you are in hiding, he can actually sense you.”
Baannat did not reveal any concern. “He’s a delver, he senses lots of things, or maybe I’m just playing with him, or playing with you for that matter. However, my patience is not limitless as you well know. Why are you here?”
Enin made no attempt to mask his intentions. “I am here because of the serp you have already mentioned. I am also here because of the delver. The moment that the serp attacked an abandon town, Ryson Acumen sensed you. I came here to find out if you are in any way connected to the serp’s most recent actions or if it is simple coincidence.”
“Is that a question?”
“I never intended on asking you directly, because I know I would not be able to trust whatever answer you gave me.”
“Then a pointless trip here?”
“Baannat, your power nearly equals mine. You know what I can do, because you know what you can do. Do you really think I need to speak to you to find out if you are involved with this serp’s actions?”
“You always get me with your logic.”
“It’s not logic, it is truth. I came here simply to gauge the echoes of magic. If you were involved, I would feel it, and thus, I would know it. I have been here long enough to see that you do not have a hand in this as of yet. That, Baannat, is quite long enough for me. Hopefully, I will not see you again any time soon.”
Before Enin could leave, however, Baannat spoke up to ensure he woul
d be heard.
“You wish to leave before we have had our fun? That is not very nice of you. I’m almost embarrassed to call you brother.”
“Must we go through this every time I come here?” Enin asked without masking his tone of annoyance.
Baannat matched Enin’s tone with an expression of indignation. “You are the one complaining? You come to my realm unannounced, come here of your own volition and without invitation, and yet you always wish to protest when I ask this small thing of you. It’s not like I asked you here and it’s not like I put any barriers to prevent you from entering. You come when you like, you leave just as quickly. Is it so much to ask for you to carry out this one little thing for me?”
“It is tiresome and wasteful,” Enin replied plainly. “We accomplish nothing, the result is always the same and yet you insist on this silly game each time I come here.”
“Would you rather I spend my time designing ways to prevent you from coming here? Or perhaps you would rather me focus on finding ways to drop in on you when you are in your home? Hmmmm, that’s an idea. How would you like that, brother? How would you like it if I just popped in on you without word or notice?”
“I would not like it, nor would I allow it to happen more than once.”
“A threat?” Baannat laughed.
“Call it what you like.”
Baannat became hostile at the indifference in Enin’s voice. “Very well, I will call it an empty threat.”
“As I said, call it what you like.”
Long silence gripped the space between the two magic-casters. Finally, Baannat spoke again, but this time with glee in his voice. “You have not left yet, so I take it you are willing to have a bit of fun.”
“If you are intent on wasting your time, then I will not prevent you in seeing the outcome we already know.”
“Excellent! What shall we work with today? Fire against ice?”
“We did that last time. If we are to do this, let us at least try to make it somewhat interesting.”
The moment Enin finished his sentence, he could not see Baannat’s glare, but he could most definitely feel it.
“Very well,” Baannat responded with a cold chill. “Let us try something new and a bit different. We will both try to fill the space of my realm, as always, but this time I will cast light and you will cast shadow. Let us see if you can cast darkness with the same power as you cast the others.”
“Shadow is not necessarily darkness or a dark power as you imply,” Enin responded confidently. “Shadow is the byproduct of light, plain and simple. There is nothing inherently evil about it, only when it is corrupted by the magic-caster. Shadow is cooling shade on a hot day, shadow is relief to tired eyes from a bright sun, shadow is the contrast for even more vibrant colors. You see, Baannat, I can find the true power in all the facets of the magic we possess. That is why I always win this game.”
Baannat giggled. “We shall see.”
In an instant, the shadowed figure opposing Enin waved his hands and two rings of white energy danced at his finger tips. They exploded in a blast of white hot light which flowed outward as if radiating from a pulsating star. The white light quickly changed to a deep yellow as if the midday sun filled the room. The light began to swirl about taking the shape of a pinwheel twirling in a gale wind.
Enin raised his hands and two circles of pure white power flowed about his wrists. He threw his arms outward and the two circles flew from him in opposite directions. The moment they struck the yellow twirling light bathing the very air, the white circles turned gray and the darkness began to intertwine in the space between the ribbons of pale gold.
The pulsating light fought back against being invaded. It pushed to one side and then another, but as it did Enin’s creation of shadow circled around and filled more areas between the swirls. Back and forth the two forces pressed against each other, twisting and twirling about this empty space like two intertwined tornados of completely opposite rotations.
Eventually the give and take between the two forces ebbed, and the areas of yellow light and dark gray became fixed. The weight of the two were very close to equal, but even to an unassuming eye it was clear that there was slightly more shadow than light.
“It was an interesting show,” Enin offered almost apologetically, “but we always come to the same conclusion, don’t we?”
“So far,” Baannat replied without bitterness in losing. If anything, the blurred figure appeared to be smiling, but Enin could never be sure.
“Since our game is over, I will be on my way.”
“It is over—for now.”
With that said, Enin simply walked out of this shapeless place and returned to his study where he would await the entrance of another.