As if to demonstrate his point, suddenly Xaarus flickered and vanished from sight. Wide-eyed, Tvrdik leapt to his feet. But in a moment the older man reappeared, tottered, and would have sunk to the floor if he hadn’t been caught by his former student and lowered onto the nearest bench.
“My apologies – I confess I am growing a little weary after the journey, and the hour is late.”
“Perhaps it would be better if you rested now and we continued this conversation tomorrow?”
“No! No. I have found my focus again, and there is still so much more I need to tell you tonight. At any rate, you can see my dilemma. I have calculated that, giving all I have to this venture, I should be able to remain in this time just long enough to accomplish my goals, but only this once. After I am pulled back to my future position for good, it could take years to accumulate the strength and power needed to try again. Unless of course, I find the key I seek to unlock my prison and return here once and for all. I fear I may still be far from that hope, though. I have already spent some of the precious days I have here seeking you in this remote place, and I cannot know with any certainty when my visit will end.”
“But, hold on. Do you mean to say that you were able to choose this place, this moment in which to appear?”
“Of course. Years of study have enabled me to aim more accurately at a given time frame. I at least had that benefit this time.”
“But if you knew you could only do this one time, why did you not go back to a time before the accident, as you originally intended? Why not stop all of this from happening to begin with?”
Xaarus was hoping to be asked that question, “Because, in the interim, I have discovered a far more important mission demanding our attention.”
Tvrdik threw up his hands in exasperation, “What could be more important than having a second chance to put everything to right? To give Ailianne and Benjin back their lives and free yourself to come back where you belong?”
“Changing the future.”
“Say again?”
“Tvrdik, we may have one chance to change the course of history for good.”
The hoot of a very distant owl could be heard in the silence that followed. Tvrdik stared at his master, speechless for a moment, and then found his voice. “Is that wise?”
“If you had been there with me, son, lived among the people, you would not have to ask that question.”
Xaarus motioned for his student to sit, and leaned in close to him, “Tvrdik, the future is a gray and grim place, filled with fear and violence, divisions and inequities. We see all of those things in our own world of course, but in the time to come they have grown to such overwhelming proportions that they are nearly irreversible. There is no balance, no light, no magic anywhere. The people hate, exploit, and enslave one another; war breaks out everywhere, often over greed and lies and folly. It is only a matter of time before they all wipe each other out. To make matters worse, they have treated their lands selfishly and without wisdom. Only a small remnant of the ancient forests still stand, and the seas are all poisoned. Many creatures have perished; all the naiads and dryads have long gone away. There are no dragons, no unicorns, no talking beasts, and most certainly no wizards. It is a time of great hopelessness and joylessness. Oh, folk still laugh and sing, form friendships, fall in love and bring babes into the world. But these things seem as flickering candles in a very dark room. The downward spiral has begun, and in that time, I fear, cannot be reversed.”
“From your description, Master, I…I am greatly relieved not to have to exist in such a world. And more than ever, I am disturbed at your own misfortune in finding yourself there. But what does any of this have to do with here and now? And with the reason you have come to find me?”
Xaarus leaned even closer. “My recent explorations in time theory have taken me into the matrix of possibilities more than once – the field of chaos where causality, probability, and free will meet to summon forth our physical experience. And after some searching and pulling at the threads of time, I have found a parallel reality – an alternate story, if you wish, one which is as radiant and joyful as my current prison is grim. It is not so far-off or unlikely that it cannot be retrieved, but is fading, almost by the minute, as human choices and errors tick by. I have tracked its strands backward over the warp and woof of history, through crossroads and missed opportunities. And I have discovered, through some grand stroke of irony, lo and behold, they originate here and now. Here is the intersection of roads. This is the moment, my son, when we are gifted with one last dazzling possibility of changing the very fabric of the future, and all the lives it touches, for the better.”
Tvrdik was silent for a moment, the enormity of that last pronouncement filtering into his consciousness. When he spoke, it was barely audible. “And just what exactly do ‘we’ have to do in order to accomplish this incredible task?”
“That, my boy, if you will allow me, I was hoping to divulge to you over the next few weeks that we are together. The hour is late for me to go into detail, but suffice it to say it will require a great many dangerous and unorthodox choices. Those who sign on must have enormous faith, courage, and resourcefulness. There may be heavy sacrifices as well, but the rewards that stand to be gained are immeasurable.”
“You speak as if there were a number of folk already committed to this scheme, whatever it is. I must ask again why you have come to me?”
“I have as yet told no one else my fantastical story, and shared with no one else my hopes. Success will depend on the concerted efforts of those at the Palace of Theriole, along with a wide array of supporting players. But they will not win the day, Tvrdik, without the help of a gifted mage. I regret I cannot be here in the critical moments. My job this time will be to pass the torch. The real work ahead will fall to you.”
Another long silence, while Tvrdik stood, head down, wrestling with his very soul. He looked up to meet the elder wizard’s eyes. “Surely there is someone else you can seek out – another, more powerful wizard – somewhere in all the world?”
Xaarus regarded him with compassion, and his voice was soft, “My dear boy, when we began our studies together all those years ago, it was the proudest moment of my life, but also one of the most anxious. Long before that, I had watched my own teachers and the few colleagues I had known, age and pass into oblivion. Our kind ages differently from ordinary men, but we are not immortal. We wrestle time, face disease, accident, and violence like any other. Finding myself alone, I set forth to scour the countryside, searching, searching for anyone, especially for young people, with something of the spark – some talent and potential. I questioned thousands of families from castle to humblest cot, tracked down rumors, followed every lead and every tale, tested hundreds of candidates. And when I finally brought the three of you together to form our little school, I had such high hopes for you all. You were so bright and eager and talented, all of you. You were my insurance against the future in precarious times. You were my hope and my legacy. You will begin to understand now why the loss of Benjin and Ailianne affected me so profoundly. It was a greater blow in many ways than you could have known then. Tvrdik, I …I could be wrong…I pray I overlooked something, someone, somewhere in my search. But as far as I know, you are the last wizard in the world. There is no other to whom I may pass my knowledge or plead my cause. It is a heavy responsibility, I know, but it is for you alone to either put on the mantle destiny has assigned you – or to allow a great and ancient tradition of service to fade and die. The choice is yours.”
Tvrdik was stunned. “I am the last?”
“It is not certain, but I think so. Tvrdik, come outside with me.”
The young hermit looked up, startled, then snatched one of the threadbare blankets up from his corner pallet and threw it around the old wizard’s shoulders as they edged through the low doorway out into the clear, chill night. Xaarus shrugged into the extra
wrap with gratitude, as he strode into the center of the clearing, stopped and stood gazing up at the sky, his protégé right behind him. It was an uncharacteristically clear night for early spring. There was no breath of wind, and the invisible new moon left the cloudless sky dark and clear, sprinkled liberally with tiny bright lights in an explosion of glitter. Familiar pictures began to form themselves from some of the most prominent among them, and stood out from the sky-scape in three-dimensional relief. On a night like this, you could almost follow the subtle movements of these night-time wanderers as you watched, or hear the music they were said to sing on their journey. Xaarus pointed up.
“What do you see, boy?”
Tvrdik shivered, “Boundless sky…stars…the ancient constellations by which the wise may navigate, divine the weather, the seasons, the whims of providence and fortune…”
“The old books tell a story of the race of wizards being star-seeded.”
“Star….seeded?”
“What if I told you that each of those bright lights is a distant sun, and that under many of those suns are worlds upon worlds like ours, peopled by civilizations of every kind, like ours, and not like…”
Tvrdik’s mouth fell open in awe. He could not reply, but felt the tingle of truth resonate throughout every corner of his being. Xaarus went on.
“It is written that long ago, travelers from a great race of wisdom and power far exceeding that of men, sojourned to this place and found it good. They lingered in the pleasant woods and valleys, enjoying the warm sun, sweet waters, and peaceful peoples of whom they grew to be quite fond. Like gods they were to the local tribes, and taught them many useful skills. Some of them partnered with the native folk and begat children, who were firmly of this world, but had inherited something of the qualities of their star-fathers and star-mothers. The visitors wished to bless their adopted home with something of themselves, so that when they died or returned home, there would be those who could serve and help men as visionaries, creators, guides, and guardians. It is said that the original half-bloods were radiant beings, and very powerful. Over millennia, the bloodlines have been diluted, scattered, and hidden. But the gift of those star-people has always survived somehow in our race of wizards. We, who have found ourselves to be inexplicably different from our fellows, who have discovered hidden talents and unusual powers, who find ourselves drawn to the old texts and ancient wisdom, we are descended from those visitors from the stars. And it is bred into our bones to learn and grow, to create, to discover, to exercise power, and above all, to serve.
“Unless I mistake myself, or unless we succeed in changing the shape of what is to come, that noble line ends here. Can you turn your back on such a heritage? The life you were born to?”
Tvrdik stood very still, eyes fixed on the constellations, numb with cold or with revelations too profound to take in all at once. In a few brief hours, the life he had crafted for himself stone by stone over the course of twelve long years, had been pulled out from beneath his feet, and had crumbled to dust. Tomorrow seemed impossibly distant, foreign, inconcievable. Somewhere deep within his chest, he felt an enormous crack, so loud he was sure Xaarus and the whole world must have heard it. A sturdy wall around his heart had broken clean down the center, and something huge, warm and alive rushed through, filling him up from toe to crown with power like that of his beloved waterfall. Bone, flesh, and sinew began to vibrate with the energy coursing through him. He was the waterfall, tumbling and racing and pushing ahead on its journey. But now he was expanding joyfully – limitless, his feet rooted deep in the heart of the earth, and his head among the stars, looking out on eons of creation working itself out in time, and outside of time. All around him the scene was decked in marvelous colors, and everything was singing, dancing a stately dance that went on eternally, in perfect order. He smiled.
A flash of light shocked him back into his slim body and limited mind. Tvrdik lowered his head from its upward gaze and hugged himself tightly, as if to assure himself that he was still real and alive. He found, to his surprise, that his face was wet with tears, and for the first time in his life, he knew who he was.
He turned to face Xaarus, who waited beside him for an answer, and saw him as if for the first time. There was the face he remembered of his beloved teacher, mentor, and surrogate father. It was older, lined with pain and weariness, imperfect and vulnerable. But the eyes were eternal, wise, compassionate. Fires in them were apt to flare up in visions of great moment. Yet, there were lights in them that were personal too, shining just for him – for Tvrdik. They looked at him now with recognition, love, pride…and hope. He breathed deeply, as a great icy wall in his chest thawed and melted. He put his arm around the old man’s shoulders and turned him toward the vine-covered door.
“Come inside,” Tvrdik said, “It is cold and we must rest. You take my pallet; it is rude but not too uncomfortable. I will lay a blanket for myself by the hearth. Get some sleep. Tomorrow we have a lifetime of lessons to cover and a whole world to save.”
FOUR
Fond Farewells and First Meetings
TVRDIK SAT ON HIS FAVORITE flat stone, so near the waterfall it was almost under the thundering stream. Normally, in that position, a body would be soaking wet in just a few moments. But he had erected a sort of protective, invisible shield around himself which deflected the water away. It was one of a thousand simple, useful tricks he had recently learned. If there had been anyone there to notice him, they would have been at pains to recognize this young lad as the same hermit of a few short weeks ago. He had bathed, washed his clothing in the pools below, and used his sharpest knife to shave his face clean and trim the tangle of pale gold hair to a manageable shoulder-length. Tvrdik was preparing to re-enter the world from which he had retreated years ago, and he was more than a little anxious. He sat in this cherished place that had always brought him comfort and peace, and tried to summon the courage to say goodbye.
As his mind wandered ahead and back in time, the pointer finger of his right hand was absently levitating small stones from the stream’s bank, and letting them fall with a resounding sploosh. With every sploosh, a shower of spray leapt up to catch the warm afternoon sun in an explosion of tiny rainbows. The general effect was like a little symphony of sound and color, running continuously for the better part of an hour. The activity was more than play, however. Xaarus had insisted on continuous practice for Tvrdik, who hadn’t the luxury of time to hone and master his magical skills. Tvrdik had gotten used to taking every opportunity to apply his new abilities until they became second nature, and he could summon them almost in his sleep. Despite his earlier, humble self-assessment, he had proved a quick study, and quite talented. But two short weeks was hardly enough time for anyone to absorb the entire catechism of wizard lore. Two weeks! That was all they had had for training before Xaarus, as predicted, had vanished into the future.
Tvrdik had thrown himself heart and soul into his education, studying and practicing long hours as he strove to memorize countless complex formulae. When Xaarus had finally outlined the details of his grand plan, however, the younger wizard had come close to throwing up his hands and walking out again. For a moment, he had wondered if his old master had gone mad with age and care. It all seemed so impossible, so counter to all of nature, so naïve, that he could not imagine this plan ever accomplishing much of anything except to get all of its proponents killed. And yet, the more he learned, the more he studied and considered what Xaarus laid out for him, the more he understood its beauty, its inevitability, and, ultimately, its truth. Soon, he could feel its rightness in the depths of his heart, and began to develop a passionate belief in what the old wizard was trying to achieve.
Redoubling his efforts to learn as much as possible in the time he had with Master Xaarus, Tvrdik had begun to neglect simple essentials like food, sleep, chores, exercise. Even the fire on the hearth almost went out one day from lack of attention. It was after th
at unfortunate incident that Xaarus had come up with his remarkable shortcut which carried with it a wonderful extra bonus. Xaarus guessed that, because of their long relationship as master and student, he might be able to use that seed of familiarity to create a bond between their minds which would link them indelibly in consciousness. His first intention was to give his student a sort of window into his mind, allowing Tvrdik to pluck whole concepts, rituals, deeper understandings, and entire packages of information, straight from the old wizard’s thoughts. There were still the matters of process, practice, and integration, but the trick worked to make learning swifter and more efficient. As the two mages became accustomed to, and more adept at using this unusual telepathic link, Xaarus posed the possibility that they might be able to keep it at least partially open through time and space, so that they could stay in some contact after he had returned to the future.
“I’m sure it would work,” he exclaimed, “but mind you, I would only be present in your head. You would see and hear me because of our unique connection, but no one else would. And I couldn’t do anything physical – cast any spells or the like…it would take a great deal of energy to keep the lines open over that distance, too, so I would not be overseeing your every move. I could, however, be there for you at greatest need, to give guidance and support you.”
The idea was more than agreeable to Tvrdik, who was already feeling a bit overwhelmed, and still nursing so many doubts about his own quality.
“You must know how much faith I have in your ability to succeed, my son. You do not need me at every turn in the road. You are courageous, strong, bright, creative, resourceful, gifted, and above all, I know your heart. It will always lead you down the right path.” Xaarus spoke during one of their simple meals toward the end of their time together. He could sense, that, though Tvrdik was growing by leaps and bounds, the young man was still in need of a boost to his self-esteem.
The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare Page 4