by Mark Tyson
“So where is it?” Loris asked pointedly.
Dorenn closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “I have no idea.” Dorenn opened his eyes again and looked at his hosts intently. Loris and Zarl were adamant that he knew where to find the tome; both were transfixed and hanging over him like ghouls. “There is something more to the story than what you are willing to reveal to me,” he said. Zarl and Loris stared at each other with maniacal grins and faded away.
After a moment, the room dissolved, and Dorenn found himself on the side of a mountain. It was late winter or early spring because the air was brisk but there was no snow. A cool breeze made him shiver and pull his cloak around him tightly. He had not been aware he had a cloak. Tall grass swayed in patches of greenery between rock outcroppings.
“What was all that nonsense about?” Dorenn was startled by a voice immediately behind him. “Whose idea was it to put you in that chamber?” Dorenn spun around to see a familiar old man with a long grey beard and grey robes standing behind him. He had a long walking stick he leaned on for support.
“I remember you,” Dorenn said. “You were the man in the shop that sold me the jade statuette I gave to Tatrice.”
“You have a remarkable memory, Dorenn Adair of Brookhaven.”
“What are you doing here?” He glanced at his surroundings. “What am I doing here?”
“I am here for you. It seems you have had the unfortunate experiences of both essence sickness and its cure.” He took a step forward, planting the walking stick firmly in the ground. “You are here because I willed it so. We need to have a conversation away from all those other wielders you now have rattling around in your head.”
“Why is that? I mean, what purpose does it serve?” Dorenn asked. He felt he could trust the old man for some reason.
“What, all the wielders bonding with you?”
“Aye, why did that happen? What are they doing?”
“Well, that is a tough question to answer, but I will give it a shot.” He gestured to a nearby boulder that might serve as a spot to sit down. Dorenn was glad to get off his feet. The old man creaked and cracked as he found a spot to sit down. He still relied heavily on the walking stick.
“I am about to reveal to you the location of the Tome of Enlightenment. Those wielders knew long ago that your line would be the one I gave the knowledge to, so they wanted to be a part of it, some for their own gain. Those essence you took on have very real, live counterparts in this world, and they think they were clever enough with what they left behind to manipulate you into revealing the location to them.”
“How could you possibly know where the gods hid the tome?”
“Ah, you see, you already are gaining knowledge you did not have knocking around in that head before. How did you know the gods hid it? Hmm, you didn’t even know about the tome until a few minutes ago.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do. That was most likely Loris or Zarl. They have been blocked from you now so we can talk, but they have already left an imprint of knowledge.”
“If you reveal the location to me, what would stop them then, once you are gone?”
“I will make sure you absorb their knowledge and expel the rest. They will not be able to do what Loris and Zarl have already attempted, nor will they be able to reveal the location to their live selves and make a rush on the location of the tome.”
“How are you going to do that? You would have to be Fawlsbane Vex,” Dorenn stated.
“Aye, I would. It’s a good thing that I am then.”
“You are Fawlsbane Vex?” Dorenn exclaimed.
“I am Vex. The Fawlsbane half is a nickname I got when I slew Fawl and took his sister Loracia as my wife.”
“You are the father of dragons and the creator of men.”
“I am afraid so. You can continue to doubt, if you wish. This mountainside illusion is a moment lodged in time, so no rush.”
Dorenn immediately fell to his knees.
“Oh, do get up. I took this form so we could be comfortable and amiable, precisely to avoid what you are doing.”
Dorenn took his place on the boulder as before.
“There, that’s better. Now that we have all that out of the way, let me go ahead and bind those spirits in your head.”
“Wait, why not just get rid of them and make them leave me completely?”
“Because they will all impart knowledge into you once they are absorbed. It would be like having hundreds of masters teaching you how to wield all at once, rather than one master over hundreds of seasons. It is to our advantage.”
“Don’t I have a say in this?”
Fawlsbane Vex sat back like he had not considered that before. “All right, aye, you have a say. What say you?”
Dorenn thought for a long moment before answering. “Before I answer, why are you going to give me the location of the tome?”
“Ah, a good question. Because one wielder should not have so much of an advantage over another. I am sure you have heard of the wild magic.” Dorenn nodded. “There is no defense. The tome will tell those with the wild magic how to use it and others how to defend against it. You will have this knowledge to give. There are ways to use the tome to hurt people, and I am sure that you will not use it in such a way. You will find and liberate the Silver Drake, spread the knowledge of the tome, and restore balance and order to the Sacred Land. You will do this with whatever it takes.”
“You say one wielder should not have the advantage, yet that is what you are doing by giving me the tome.”
The old man wrinkled his nose. “We can bandy about with words if you like, but I have other things to do, better things. I meant one type of wielder, of course. I would think you could understand that. You come from a distinguished line of wielders, which I have trusted for thousands of seasons. I will go on trusting you as I can see aspects of you that no one else would be able. However, you are, no doubt, going to have to do some things in my service when you leave here that others will see as downright evil. You must not waver. It is a tremendous burden, but that is why you will bond with the essences. You will have all the combined knowledge and strength of all the wielders before you. How much you will keep of the Dorenn Adair you are now is up to your strength of will.”
“I must say, I have always been interested in wielding, and the prospect of being the most powerful wielder alive is tempting.”
“Now, don’t go thinking you are some kind of deity. You will have the knowledge, but you will not have the other wielders’ experiences. You will have to watch yourself. You will make horrible mistakes with just as horrible of consequences if you run around full of yourself. Always remember that with every decision that you lack experience, seek out those whose experience can help you.” He vacillated. “Choose your allies carefully. There will be those who will not understand or believe you. There will be those who will try to stop you or control you. Look for those with the experience to help you but not get in your way. If anyone becomes an obstacle to your grand purpose, eliminate the obstacle. One more issue, you have knowledge at your disposal, but you cannot access all of it. Your mind cannot handle such things. Take care to access what you need. The essence you have absorbed is a shadow of the wielder it once belonged to, and sometimes shadows lie. I can make a shadow puppet against a wall in the shape of a bird, but it is not an actual bird; it is an illusion.”
“All right, I am ready.”
“Excellent,” the old man said. He held up the walking stick, and Dorenn could feel the essence flowing through him. After a few moments, Dorenn not only was aware of his newfound knowledge but also of the location of the tome. He opened his eyes to talk to the old man and realized he was waking up in the chamber in the Hall of Ancients. Morgoran was standing over him.
“Thank the gods you have come around,” he said. “All of the wielders’ essences bonded with you. I wasn’t sure if you would survive.” He shouted back to where Brynna and Ke
rad were praying. “Kerad, come here.”
Brynna appeared at the chamber door. “He left, sir. He said he had something urgent to attend to right away.”
“That’s odd. Well, go fetch Vesperin then.” Dorenn could barely hear Morgoran over the ringing in his ears.
Tatrice was there. He thought he imagined her voice at first, but then he saw her behind Morgoran, the old wielder not letting her get to him, as she clearly was trying.
“I survived thanks to Fawlsbane Vex,” Dorenn said, clutching his aching head.
“Fawlsbane!” Morgoran sounded alarmed. “I am sure it was just a dream brought on by your experience here.”
Tatrice pushed through. “Dorenn, are you hurt?”
“No, I’m not hurt, and no, it wasn’t a dream. Fawlsbane came to me and talked to me.”
“You have been knocked unconscious, and you are telling me you talked to Fawlsbane Vex, Father of Dragons?” Morgoran said.
“Aye, why is that so hard to believe?”
Dorenn saw Morgoran give Erinthill a sideways glance that he didn’t like while he was helping him get up off the floor. “Fawlsbane warned me about this. He said others may not understand. He said they would try to stop me.”
“What are you talking about, boy? You were just invaded by hundreds of wielders. Did it ever occur to you that some would try to trick you? Not all of those essences are from friendly people.”
After he was on his feet, Dorenn pushed away from Morgoran. “He gave me the location of the Tome of Enlightenment. Now do you believe?”
“Now wait just a moment, Dorenn. Not only gods have that location. I think you might have been fooled.”
Dorenn could see Morgoran’s error. Fawlsbane said that he might encounter resistance. He used his new knowledge of magic and levitated Morgoran’s Lora Daine. Morgoran grabbed for the stone, but Dorenn yanked it through the air, catching it and holding it tightly in his hand. He closed his eyes, concentrated on the Sacred Land, and released essence into the stone. He opened his eyes again to see Morgoran’s angry expression as he lunged to stop him. The moment in time was frozen with Morgoran in mid-stride. The next moment, Dorenn beheld the familiar desolation of the Sacred Land.
Chapter 15: The Tome of Enlightenment
Dorenn turned the Lora Daine over and over in his hand. A handy bit of magic, he thought. He stood in front of the ruins of Brightonhold Keep in the Sacred Land. He put the dragon stone in the pouch he carried around his waist and headed for the rich source of essence he felt was further into the Sacred Land. He felt stronger than ever, and his mind raced with the possibilities. All of the essences that stabilized and focused his mind he controlled and used to his will. What he could not imagine before became possible to him now.
The Sacred Land buckled beneath his feet, and he could feel the power of the land surging just below the surface, but there was one place in particular where essence bubbled in overwhelming abundance. This was the spot he traveled to now. A battle of magic occurred here with a ferocity unrivaled in other known battles. The land had been utterly stripped. Now the essence came back tenfold. Dorenn stood in the center of the essence node and started drawing power. When he felt he could take no more, he gnashed his teeth and drew in that much more again, and then again and again. He took out the Lora Daine and held it in both hands. “No more!” he commanded and released the essence. A surge of power cascaded through the stone. He watched as the stone glowed brightly and then went dark. The power he released destroyed it. “No more travel by Lora Daine for anyone for a while,” he said aloud. “That should slow down the dragons and anyone else possessing a dragon stone,” Dorenn snickered.
He looked around on the ground nearby and selected a gnarled old tree branch. Again he drew in essence, stripped and tempered the wood with a thought until it was strong and sturdy, stamped it hard on the ground, and began walking. He scoured the landscape for the familiar landmarks and obtained his directional bearings. Signal Hill, as he remembered it, was only a few hours’ walk. After about an hour had passed, Dorenn realized he was off course because he was unfamiliar with some of the rock outcroppings, but he kept his eye on the sun and soldiered on. Before long, he found his way again, and soon the familiar gates of Signal Hill were mere steps before him. They had been cleaned and repaired. As he moved through the gates, he could see many improvements in the works. Esperdahl was true to his word and was rebuilding. Men were hammering and mending a roof on a nearby house. One paused to wave at him for no particular reason as he passed by. He stopped beside a man mending a fence.
“Excuse me, sir, but could you tell me where I might find Esperdahl?”
The man looked up from his fence mending with a slight scowl. “I don’t know, boy, go try the Temple of Loracia and the armory. He is usually there most of the day.”
“Thank you, sir,” Dorenn said. The man just grunted.
Dorenn found Esperdahl supervising construction not far down the road from the grumpy old man. “Hail, Esperdahl,” Dorenn said when he reached earshot.
Esperdahl recognized him immediately. “Dorenn, good to see you, lad.” He looked at the scabbard on Dorenn’s side. “I see you have not lost Dranmalin.”
“Aye, it never leaves my sight nowadays.”
“Where are the rest?” Esperdahl asked as he looked behind Dorenn.
“They are out west. I ventured here on my own.”
“Oh.” The white-haired man in yellow and white robes scratched his head. “What brings you to me then?”
Dorenn glanced around at the workers. “Is there a place we might go where I might speak to you privately?”
“Aye, this way. We can speak in the temple. It is nearly refurbished since the last time you were here.” Dorenn followed Esperdahl as he led them to the temple and into his private chambers. The older man closed the heavy wooden door after Dorenn had entered and motioned for him to sit in one of the comfortable chairs in the main living area. Esperdahl picked up a pipe from beside his chair and put it to his mouth.
“May I get you anything? A glass of water, perhaps?”
“No, thank you. I am not thirsty.”
Esperdahl lit the pipe. “This room is about as private as I can get around here these days. What may I help you with?”
“Very well, right to the point then. What I am about to ask may seem a bit strange, but hear me out.”
“Aye, go on.”
“I need to ask you about a book, an ancient tome called the Tome of Enlightenment.”
“I have heard of it,” Esperdahl said. “It has been lost for ages. It is supposed to be the tome Fawlsbane Vex gave to man to teach him how to wield essence among other things.”
“Is it a real book or a myth?”
“It is difficult to say. Most of the priesthood claims it to be absolutely real. I have no opinion on the matter. Why ask about the tome?”
“Let us just say that I have reason to believe the tome is real.”
“Oh, interesting. What brings you to that conclusion?” Esperdahl said, letting his pipe smoke snake from between his lips.
“It is a curious thing, the trials within the Hall of Ancients. You took the trials, did you not?”
“Trials? You mean the trials the ritual wielders endure on the Isle of Doom? I am a man of Loracia. I have never been to the Isle of Doom.”
Dorenn’s disbelief was apparent in his expression. “Esperdahl, you have served your masters well, but your lies are becoming bothersome.”
“I am sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“It was you who replaced Lady Shey and had her captured in the armory.”
“I gave you and your party powerful gifts. How dare you accuse me!”
Dorenn unsheathed Dranmalin. “Aye, you had to win our trust somehow. What better way than with gifts? Of course, with your gifts, Drasmyd Duil and Dramyd kind seemed to find us easier than ever before, attacking in numbers.”
Esperdahl’s demeanor sharpened. “How could you
possibly know that? You cannot be everywhere at once.”
“There you are, betrayer,” Dorenn quipped.
“You cannot betray those you were never loyal to in the first place.” He set down the pipe, and a fiery, ethereal sword extended from his right hand. “You were just a foolish boy when you passed through here. Something has changed in you.”
“I have seen thousands of minds from thousands of seasons; little is hidden from me now. That is how I know you took the trials, wielder, and I know your master is Toborne. You are rebuilding Signal Hill to serve as his outpost and armory for a new war, but that’s not your only purpose for rebuilding this village, is it? I know Toborne also seeks the Tome of Enlightenment, and I know your research here, in the guise of rebuilding, has given you an idea of where it is. I can’t let you give him that information, at least, not any more than you already have. So, tell me, where is Toborne?”
“You will die!” Esperdahl lunged toward Dorenn, and Dranmalin sang out for the block. “Impossible. I enchanted that sword,” Esperdahl exclaimed.
“I re-enchanted it,” Dorenn said as he returned Esperdahl’s attack. “Dranmalin is a real dragon-forged sword. Your taint did not take.” He lunged forward, clipping Esperdahl on the shoulder. “You were clever to block your essence; surely you knew that I would detect it once I assimilated it into my own.”
“You were never supposed to absorb my essence. I saw to it that no apprentice could ever use it. Why did it choose to help you? I had to release it into the chamber, but it was supposed to avoid being useful.”
“Where is Toborne? You can’t keep me from finding him forever.”
“I will never tell you,” Esperdahl said before he launched into a sequence of swordplay maneuvers. Dorenn was surprised he recognized them. He remembered his youthful sword training well. First was the backward crane; Dorenn blocked it with the crossover. Next, Esperdahl tried the box maneuver. Dorenn blocked the move and countered, jabbing the point of his sword into Esperdahl’s chest. The man screamed in pain and frustration. He lunged forward, and Dorenn knocked his sword aside and held Dranmalin to Esperdahl’s throat.