From a Far Land

by G David Walker

  “Yeah? How’d they know I was here?”

  “I apologize if you wished your presence here to remain secret. But, as a Loremaster, it was my duty to report receiving a visitor from the Far Planes. So, after getting you to bed last night, I contacted a colleague of mine to let them know of your arrival.”

  “Oh. How?”

  “I used the portal. Do you remember me telling you last night that we had been able to create successful portals within our world?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It was through the portal you saw in the front room that I made contact with those who wish to meet you.”

  “Are they, um, what did you call yourself? Loremaster? Are they Loremasters too?”

  “Yes, there is a group of Loremasters that wishes to see you, and to learn about you and about your world.”

  “Can they help me get back home? You said that there were some people who were working on portals to other worlds. Is that them?”

  Reyga shook his head. “No, those that are studying portal creation do not reside at Lore’s Haven.”

  “Well, I want to meet them. If there’s any way for me to get back home, I want to know.”

  “I understand your desire to return home,” Reyga said, “but we must first meet with the Loremasters at Lore’s Haven. After that, we may be able to meet with the others.”

  “So, what is a Loremaster anyway? Are there a bunch of you guys running around?”

  “Let us finish preparing,” Reyga said. “Then, while we travel to the village, I will tell you of Loremasters.”

  *****

  As he walked through the bustling halls of Lore's Haven, Tal Vardyn, Pearl Loremaster and the High One of the Circle of Nine, did not need to consult with the ancient texts. After studying them for decades, he could recite all twenty-three volumes from memory. What had come unbidden to his mind the night before filled him with foreboding, and had been a constant theme winding its way in and out of his restless dreams.

  It was a prophecy given over eight hundred years before by a seer named Taleth…

  From a far land, Jaben shall come.

  The last to arrive, he will already be here.

  Powerful and powerless,

  Our hope and our doom are in his hands.

  His destruction is our hope.

  His denial is our doom.

  For our land to live, the far land must die.

  When Reyga mentioned Jason Bennett’s name, the prophecy leapt into Tal’s mind like a Beja cat pouncing upon its prey. And like the feline hunter’s finger-long claws, the words of the prophecy sank into the High One’s thoughts and refused to be dislodged.

  Even with his head muddled from the futile attempts at sleep the night before, Tal knew that his actions regarding this young man could very well determine Teleria’s fate for generations to come. He spotted a page and gave him instructions to assemble the Circle.

  He also knew that he would be unable to make any rational decisions with his thoughts racing as they were. He found a relatively quiet corner, closed his eyes, and concentrated upon stilling his mind. After a few moments, he opened his eyes. Better. He would have time for a more thorough period of meditation later.

  “At least I hope I will,” he said to himself, and headed for the Circle chamber to prepare.

  *****

  The sun was climbing into the clear morning sky as Jason and Reyga walked out the door. The first thing Jason noticed as he stepped outside was the multitude of odors filling the air. He looked upwind, and then slowed until he finally came to a complete stop. He had seen plenty of backyard gardens before, but this was surely the king of all gardens, if there was such a thing.

  There were at least a dozen different species of plants, each bearing a crop that would be the envy of any farmer back in Missouri. Some looked a little like tomato plants, but the fruits that hung from them were as large as soccer balls. He wondered how they kept from collapsing under the load.

  He heard Reyga chuckle behind him. “Ah, I see you have noticed my modest attempt at gardening.”

  ‘Modest’ was not the word he would have chosen to describe Reyga’s garden. “Are you kidding? We have neighbors back home that would give their right arms to be able to grow a garden like this!”

  Reyga smiled. “I must confess that I too am pleased with how it turned out this year. Gardening and growing things has long been a…well, a hobby of mine, as it were.”

  “Man, if this is what you consider a hobby, then you give the word a whole new meaning.”

  “You are most kind, Jason,” Reyga said, bowing his head slightly. “Now,” he continued, “we must be on our way. There is an escort awaiting us in the village.”

  “Escort?”

  “Yes. Those who wish to meet you have sent some people to accompany us on our way. Their presence is merely for our protection.”

  “What about the portals? Didn’t you say you have stable portals in your world? Isn’t there a portal to where we want to go?”

  “There is, but considering your first portal experience, it was decided that this route would be better. This will also give you a chance to see more of our world and our culture.”

  He wasn’t sure he agreed, but didn’t say anything. Now that he knew what to expect, especially the tasty fruit, he didn’t think a portal trip would be all that bad.

  “How do the portals work anyway?” he asked.

  Reyga started to answer, and then stopped. “I am afraid that is a question better answered by others,” he finally said. “Perhaps when we get to Lore’s Haven, someone there will be able to explain the process to you.”

  “Oh. Well, okay.”

  Reyga strode off toward one end of the glade. Jason noticed a small trail there. As he fell in behind the old man, he gazed about, taking in his surroundings. The trees surrounding them were clothed in robust foliage. Most of the leaves and shrubs were the various standard shades of green, but here and there, sprinkled among the green, were plants with leaves of delicate teal, vibrant purple, or even an occasional pastel pink. A bright blue sky peeked down at them through the leaves and branches, and a light breeze playfully ruffled Jason’s hair.

  The woods were unmistakably full of life. Screeches, tweets, and trills filled the air. They seemed to blend together into one harmonious song, like an orchestra playing an intricate concerto. He was about to remind Reyga of his promise to tell him what a Loremaster was when he heard the flutter of wings. With a startling gust of air beside his ear, a bird the size of a small hawk landed on his shoulder.

  Sharp talons gripped his shoulder through his shirt. He came to a stop. “Um, Reyga?”

  Reyga turned. When he saw the bird, his eyes widened. He seemed to be at a loss for words.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jason tried to get a look at his unexpected passenger. The bird was yellow, with a burst of red and blue on its chest. The beak less than two inches from his eye had a cruel hook that marked this bird as a predator. It returned his gaze without blinking,

  He tried not to flinch as the bird shifted. “What should I do?”

  Reyga’s glance wandered from the bird back to Jason’s face. “Hm? Oh! I apologize. I was rather surprised to see a bird, especially one of this kind, on your shoulder. Be at ease. You are in no danger.”

  He relaxed, and then stiffened once again as the bird tightened its razor sharp grip. “Okay,” he said. “That’s good to know, but how do I get this bird off me?”

  Reyga slowly began walking toward him. As the Loremaster approached, the bird screeched as if to warn him away. After holding its ground for a few moments, it launched into the air and winged its way toward the clear morning sky, giving another offended screech as it flew. They watched as it came to roost at the top of a tall tree. Once more, the bird sounded its defiance.

  “What was that all about?” Jason asked, rubbing his shoulder. “I thought for a moment you forgot how to breathe when you turned around and saw that bird.”


  “Hmm?” Reyga responded, his eyes still on the bird. Then he turned his attention back to his companion. “Please forgive me, Jason. It is somewhat unusual to actually see a bird of this species. They are rather rare. I can recall only two other times in my entire life when I have actually seen one in the wild.”

  “Really? What kind of bird is it?” Jason asked. He looked up at the top of the tree where the bird still watched them.

  Reyga looked at the bird again. “It is a carilian, although it is more commonly called a fortunewing.”

  “Why?”

  “Legend has it that one’s experience with the bird can predict their future. To hear the call of the fortunewing as it is perched is said to be a good omen, but to hear its call in flight is considered a bad omen.”

  “Uh huh. So what kind of omen is it when it lands on you?”

  “I do not know,” Reyga said as his gaze returned to Jason. “I have never heard tell of one actually landing on someone.”

  Then, with one last glance at the bird, he said, “Well! To be sure, it was an interesting experience to begin our day, but we need to continue on. We still need to buy supplies for the journey, and our escort is, by now, no doubt awaiting us.”

  “Okay,” Jason said, as they began walking again. “You were going to tell me about Loremasters. What is a Loremaster? How does someone become one? Are there a lot of you?”

  Reyga walked for a few moments before answering. Finally, he said, “A Loremaster is a man or woman who has chosen to be the caretaker of a certain area of knowledge. It is the responsibility of the Loremaster to preserve the knowledge in his or her area of expertise, and to add to that knowledge whenever possible.

  “As they start getting on in years, they select an apprentice to whom they will pass on everything they know. When the old Loremaster becomes too feeble to retain the post, or when they pass on, the apprentice takes over and the knowledge is preserved. And no, to answer your last question, there are not many Loremasters. There are nine on the Circle to be precise.”

  “And you’re one of them.”

  “Yes.”

  “What, one day you just said, ‘Hey, I think I’ll be a Loremaster’?”

  Reyga chuckled. “Oh no, Jason, there is much more to it than that. Each Loremaster has a group of young men and women who share an affinity for the same area of knowledge. They assist him in his studies. They will serve together working with the Loremaster for many years. From this group, one will be chosen to be the Loremaster’s apprentice. It has been this way since the system of Loremasters was established almost fifteen centuries ago.”

  “Alright. You said you were the Emerald Loremaster. What is that? What are you the Loremaster of? And where are your people?”

  “My assistants are at Lore's Haven, where we are headed. The place we just left is my home. I was taking a few days of rest, when you arrived. Your timing was fortuitous, for I usually spend more time at the Haven than I do at home.”

  “Lucky for me, I guess. So what’s an Emerald Loremaster? What exactly are you the Loremaster of?”

  “Each Loremaster is given an insignia, or symbol, signifying their office. It was decided long ago that the symbols would incorporate gemstones, to indicate the beauty and desirability of knowledge. For my office, it is the emerald, as you see in my staff. Other Loremasters will have different gems depending upon their area of study.”

  “Okay,” Jason said, a little impatiently. “So, once again, what is your area of knowledge? What does the emerald stand for? What are you the Loremaster of?”

  Reyga looked somewhat embarrassed. “The Emerald Loremaster preserves the knowledge of plants and agriculture.”

  Jason stopped walking. “Sooo, the garden…” he began.

  “Is not quite so impressive an accomplishment as it would have been had it been grown by someone else.” Reyga finished, turning back to the path with a slight smile on his face.

  “Not exactly a hobby then, is it?” He’d caught the smile as Reyga turned away. He thought about the garden and the earlier incident with the calintha fruit. “You’re an ornery, old goat, aren’t you?” he muttered under his breath

  Reyga turned back to him. “I beg your pardon? What does it mean to be an ‘ornery, old goat’?”

  As Jason stammered for an answer, he mentally filed away the fact that Reyga must have exceptional hearing. Trying to keep his face from turning red, he said quickly, “It’s, ah, a term of, um, respect. Yes! It’s, uh, something we say back home to people we admire, that’s all.” He hoped he sounded convincing as he watched to see how Reyga would respond.

  Reyga considered his words for a moment, then smiled and inclined his head. “I thank you then, Jason, for your kind words.” Then he turned back to the trail and resumed walking.

  Jason breathed a sigh of relief and vowed to himself never to say anything about Reyga unless the old man was nowhere within a two-mile radius.

  After a few minutes of walking, he spoke up again. “So, let’s go back to what you were talking about yesterday. What happened after the war? If they had all this technology, why didn’t they just rebuild everything?”

  “Indeed, why did they not just rebuild? That is the obvious question. Very well, let me think. Where did I stop yesterday? Hmmm...” Reyga paused for a moment as he thought, and then his eyes brightened. “Ah yes,” he said. “Now I remember.” As he resumed walking, he continued his tale from the previous day.

  “In the days before the Devastation, we have learned that our world had a population of over seven billion people. After the dust had settled, it is estimated that there were less than thirty million left alive.” He gave a heavy sigh. “Over ninety-nine percent of the population dead, with many more to die in the sixdays and spans following. Mankind, once dominant on our world, had been reduced to a mere shadow of what he once was.

  “The planet also paid a high price for our foolishness,” he said. “Because of the terrible weapons used, large sections of our lands were rendered uninhabitable for generations. But even that paled in comparison to the effects of the most devastating weapons.”

  The light breeze suddenly felt cooler, and a solitary cloud obscured the sun, casting a pall on the forest around them. Reyga didn’t seem to notice as he went on with his tale.

  “While we do not know what they were, we have learned that the combatants had developed frightening weapons. These terrible devices could literally tear rifts in the very fabric of space, essentially opening holes into other dimensions.

  “From what we have learned, the rifts would usually collapse upon themselves within a matter of moments. A small number, though, did not close, and began to let in forces and energies completely alien to our world. It was one such rift that ended the Devastation.

  “It happened on the second day of the war. A rift opened up, and some type of energy began pouring into our world. The energy that came through this rift nullified something the ancients called 'electricity.' Apparently, all of their amazing technology, from the greatest machine to the smallest, depended upon this force for its operation. With it gone, all of mankind’s technology was rendered useless.

  “Within the space of a few hours, mankind had gone from being master of the planet, to being just another contender for survival, with less natural skills than the plants and animals we had dominated for so long.”

  As the sun re-emerged from behind the cloud, Reyga paused to glance at the sky. He took out a cloth to wipe his face and neck, and then turned to Jason as he continued the story.

  “To be sure,” he said, “this rift is quite probably the only thing that allowed anything at all to survive the Devastation. With the electricity gone, the rulers found it impossible to use any more of their weapons. So, as suddenly as it began, the Devastation was over, with only the lingering effects of the weapons remaining. Those lingering effects, however, changed our world forever.”

  Reyga glanced around at the lush foliage surrounding them. With a sorrowful s
hake of his head, he continued. “The days following the end of the Devastation were full of confusion, anger, and despair. With our world in ruins, no one knew what to do, where to begin rebuilding, or if rebuilding would even be possible.

  “As the people began exploring the tattered remnants of their lands, they mapped out the areas of the greatest desolation in order to avoid them. They marked these on whatever maps they could find or make. Eventually, they found places where they could begin the slow process of rebuilding.”

  Reyga began walking once more as he went on with his tale.

  “As the survivors began to spread out and explore, reports started circulating about strange and bizarre creatures. Stories were told about areas where the world seemed almost alien. There were even rumors about visitors from other worlds.

  “At first, of course, these tales were dismissed as nothing more than dreams, or the ranting of the insane, or perhaps words spoken from the depths of a bottle of spirits. Some, however, did not discount these stories. They went out in search of the things they had heard about.

  “These explorers came back with strange creatures,” he said. “Animals were found, and sometimes people, with extra limbs, or sometimes even an extra head. Some had become extremely sensitive to light, or to heat. Most eventually died out without ever passing these traits to offspring. But not all. Of those that survived, a few became the progenitors of some of the races in Teleria today.

  “These were all explained away as strange mutations. But then other creatures were found, creatures that seemed almost to be some sort of merger between two different living things. These could not be explained by mutation.

  “The most horrific unions were the ones where one of the living beings was, or had been, a human. In most cases, the creature produced from these unions was quite insane and either very violent, or almost catatonic from despair. No one knew how these shocking mergers had happened, or what to do for these unfortunate souls. Eventually, a few that survived their change also became the forefathers of new races.”