by Ryo Mizuno
“Not yours. Those skills belong to the woman you’re controlling,” Wort spat.
“Exactly—but this body belongs to me now. Leylia, the Marfa priestess, is gone. Body and mind, I am Karla.”
Wort avoided her gaze and activated the crystal ball once more. This time, it showed an image of Beld’s face—unchanged since they had gone together into the Deepest Labyrinth to defeat the Demon King. The demonic sword he bore had kept him young. He was only a few years younger than Wort, so he should have been an old man, but he was frozen in time by a curse—the same curse that bound him to become the overlord who would unify Lodoss.
In the final battle against the Demon King, a Pharis priestess sacrificed her life to save Beld. She had entrusted him with her final wish: eternal peace on Lodoss. The only way to achieve that was for a great king to unify the island.
Beld was trying to fulfill that wish.
The priestess was called Flaus, and she, Wort, and Beld had travelled through all of Lodoss together. Beld’s heart had died with her; his soul still wandered the eternal abyss in the depths of the labyrinth. All that remained of him was a shell, acting only to realize her last words through conquest.
Fahn also tried to realize Flaus’s dreams—though in a different way. Beld and Fahn both wanted the same peace for Lodoss, though the paths they took to get there couldn’t be more different. And the dream remained elusive.
“Such tragic folly.” Wort felt anger bubble up inside him, toward the grey witch who had let herself into his tower with not the slightest shame. This woman, sole survivor of the ancient kingdom, had cleverly manipulated his friends’ genuine emotions just to maintain a balance in the world—the triumph of not black nor white, but the grey in between. Wort could almost see the outcome of the battle to come. He had no way to change it and Karla knew that, so she’d come to stop him from trying to intervene.
And Wort had agreed to her terms. The witch stood in the shadows of history, using brave heroes as pawns in her game. Her existence was why a unified Lodoss had never been achieved since ancient times.
Wort continued to gaze at the Emperor of Marmo, pity in his eyes.
4
“We’re finally here.”
Parn panted with exhaustion, bent over with his hands on his knees. Even after they’d spotted the tower, getting there had taken longer than they’d expected—there were so many switchbacks and detours on the mountain trail that they began to suspect the old Magus had done it on purpose.
Throughout the grueling day, Parn had gotten more and more annoyed with the mage and their whole situation. And annoyances aside, a peerless mage choosing a life of seclusion despite his great abilities made no sense to Parn.
“It’s just like King Fahn said,” Parn had complained over and over throughout the day. “He’s a stubborn old man who hates everyone.”
Deedlit had voiced her agreement every time Parn said it, but eventually it got so tedious that she finally snapped, “If you dislike him so much, why don’t you just go back to Roid?” They’d traveled in stony silence ever since.
That kind of argument had become more common between them. Parn was becoming more assertive, which meant more bickering. And for every noble thing that came out of his mouth, he’d say something equally immature later. She didn’t dislike that part of him necessarily, but it confused her. For every two steps Parn took toward his true potential, he seemed to take one step back.
Still, though, Parn had seemed different since leaving Roid. Inspired by King Fahn and King Kashue, he was finally growing into a leader.
Slayn had noticed the change in Parn, too. He felt like he had to advise him less often. Slayn had told the others that, after their current journey ended, he was going to help Ghim find whatever it was he was looking for. The wizard was sure that Parn had started to walk down the right path and could practically see their futures—Parn would become a knight of Valis and Etoh would join the Pharis Temple in Roid. Slayn and Ghim would continue their journey and Woodchuck…well, who knew what Woodchuck would do next?
Deedlit was also unsure of what to do next. If Parn was knighted, there would be no reason to stay with him. But she didn’t want to journey alone, and she had no intention of going back home. She just couldn’t decide. She kept telling herself that it wasn’t worth worrying over—maybe, once this trip ended, things would fall into place.
From the outside, the Magus Tower was unadorned and plain. For all intents and purposes, it looked like a regular castle watchtower. It was perched on an empty, rocky mountain peak, and they couldn’t help but wonder how someone could live there.
As they carefully made their way to the double doors leading into the tower, their breath caught in their throats. The door handles were shaped like dragons.
Parn raised a hand tentatively to knock, but before he could do so, the door slowly creaked open on its own.
“Whoa!” Parn shouted, pulling back. “Heh…what a joker. Does he want to give people heart attacks?” The interior of the tower was dimly lit and difficult to see, but when Parn leaned closer to look inside, the lights came on by themselves. “What the heck is this?!”
“It’s just simple magic. He’s a Magus, after all—even his basic spells are extraordinary.”
“He’s showing off!” Parn objected.
“Let’s just go inside already. Yelling out here won’t solve anything,” Deedlit said, stepping through the doorway.
“Hello!” she called out. “I am Deedlit the elf, here on a mission from King Fahn of Valis!” Her voice echoed in the empty tower. The only things inside were a staircase heading down to the basement and another staircase that ran up in a spiral along the wall, ending at a single door.
Deedlit waited, but there was no response to her call. “Now what?” Deedlit turned to ask an anxious Parn.
“He better not be gone,” Parn answered, shuddering at the thought. The thought that they might’ve come all this way only for the Magus to be out just wasn’t funny.
“It seems someone’s upstairs—I can hear talking.” Slayn lowered his hood and stepped inside. “I can also feel magic here—many spells that only a great wizard could cast.” Slayn cautiously approached the spiral staircase and stood on the first step to test it. Under his foot, the stairs suddenly flashed with pale blue light and started ascending with a low groan. “Well, this is convenient—if only they could cast this spell on the stairs of the castle of Valis. I had quite a bit of trouble with them.” Slayn let out a laugh and turned to Parn as he was carried upstairs.
They had spent three days at the castle after the ball, deeply meaningful days for Slayn and Parn. Slayn had had a chance to peruse the rare and valuable books in Elm’s collection—and, as he’d promised at the ball, Kashue had given Parn sword lessons. Etoh was appointed an official cleric by High Priest Genart and assigned to serve the Valis court upon his return. They both wanted to assist in national affairs. Ghim had taken ten gold coins from their reward and crafted something in the castle smithy. Only Deedlit and Woodchuck had spent their time idle.
The moving staircase carried Slayn steadily upwards. “Don’t go by yourself!” Parn shouted, jumping onboard in a panic.
I guess it probably won’t eat me, Woodchuck told himself as he gingerly stepped on. The other three soon joined him.
The landing in front of the door was small—not really large enough for six people to stand on. They clustered there awkwardly for a moment before Parn spoke up.
“Excuse me,” he called out. “I’m Parn, a travelling warrior, and I’m coming in.” He pushed the door open—this one didn’t open on its own. Beyond was a spiral passageway, a gentle slope with a rough-paved stone floor for surer footing. Parn continued onward, and the others followed behind—but this time they only took one trip around the tower before they reached a pair of doors, side by side.
Listening carefully, they could hear voices coming from the door on the right. Parn wondered who on earth would visit such a pla
ce—well, other than him and his friends.
“Excuse me…no one responded when we arrived, so we let ourselves in. Oh! I’m Parn, a traveling warrior,” he announced to the air again.
“Get in here already!” a gruff, elderly-sounding voice responded. That had to be the Great Magus Wort.
Parn breathed a sigh of relief to find out that the Magus was home. He slowly stepped inside, already in a low, respectful bow—but when he raised his head, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“K-Karla…” he groaned, trailing off into shocked silence.
Deedlit’s hand flew to her mouth—her other reached unconsciously for her rapier. “Why are you here?” she asked, her face gone pale.
“You will not fight here!” the old man yelled sharply. At his words, Deedlit felt her muscles freeze by the power of an outside source.
Finally, Karla spoke. “Don’t worry, I don’t intend to start anything here. I just wanted another chance to speak to all of you. So, come in.”
The table in the center of the room held a glass for each of them, with several bottles of wine, roast venison served on a platter, and fresh fruit and vegetables piled high. The mages had clearly been waiting for them.
“All right, we’ll listen,” Parn agreed. He was still in shock, but he took Karla’s words as a challenge. He crossed the room and sat down, prepared to draw his sword at a moment’s notice. His hateful glare never once left her face.
Ghim took the other empty chair unprompted, and the other four fanned out behind them, still standing. Woodchuck cowered as far from Karla as he could manage, trying to look inconspicuous.
An awkward silence filled the room.
Karla offered drinks, then poured herself a glass and gracefully drank to show that it wasn’t poisoned.
“The glasses and wine are from my personal collection, so don’t worry,” the old man chimed in.
“Let’s talk first,” Parn said, leaning forward. “What are you doing here? How did you know we were coming?”
Karla smiled at the furious young warrior and settled in the seat next to him. Ghim kept staring, inspecting her from head to toe—Karla gave him one glance before turning back to the warrior.
“I don’t have to answer that…but I will anyway. One of the reasons I’m here is that Wort and I are old friends. We once fought together, side by side. Another reason is that I wanted to see you all again. And as for how I managed to find you—that was the simplest of all.” Karla leaned her elbows on the table and clasped her hands, fingers intertwined. Most of them were adorned with rings of different shapes and sizes; they knew from the previous battle that they weren’t just ordinary jewelry. The witch could wield powerful magic with the shake of a finger.
“You said you want to talk to us?”
“I have a proposal. Like I said before, I value all of you highly. Won’t you join me? I’d be happy to put our…unfortunate previous encounters behind us.”
Parn’s eyes widened in fury. He opened his mouth to yell in a fit of anger, but restrained himself out of respect for Wort.
“There, I listened,” he said. “Did you actually think we would agree? We’d never work for Marmo.” His voice cracked with rage, but he managed to keep himself from yelling, at least. He couldn’t believe she had such a low opinion of him, to think he had it in his nature to sell his soul to evildoers.
“It seems there’s been a misunderstanding,” Karla responded with a sigh. She swirled the red liquid in her glass, which reflected the lights of the room. “I am not Beld’s minion. I cooperated with him for a time, but my goal is noble. You know of the ancient kingdom, correct? It was a magical civilization that thrived in Lodoss, and in fact, across the entire world of Forcelia. Do you know the real reason it was lost?”
“Legend says a powerful magic spell went out of control,” Slayn chimed in, “though that was long years before all of our time, so we have no way to know the truth,” He looked over to Deedlit to see if she had anything to add, but she shook her head.
“I wasn’t born yet, and the elves don’t pay much attention to human events,” Deedlit explained.
“The wizard is basically correct. In the last years of the kingdom, the wizards built an enormous device that would generate inexhaustible magical power to use for infinite spells. By implanting a small crystal ball into their foreheads, connected to this device beyond space and time, they shared this infinite magic power. The experiment succeeded and the civilization prospered—spawning an age of great magical invention. Entire cities were lifted into the skies or floated in the oceans. They had complete control of the spirit world, even using dragons as servants. But the wizards lost the ability to use magic without relying on the device. When they attempted the ultimate spell, the device couldn’t sustain it and was destroyed—leaving no wizards left who could use magic.”
“Around that time, the savages began to attack in earnest. The powerless wizards couldn’t defend themselves and were wiped out. It took less than five years for all that they’d built to be reduced to nothing…”
Parn listened with his arms folded across his chest. His gaze was locked on the witch’s pale face and blue eyes so intensely it was like he’d forgotten to blink.
A long moment passed. When Parn realized that Karla was likely waiting for an answer, he mumbled, “So what?” He didn’t understand the point of her story.
“You don’t understand why it fell into ruin?” she asked, closing her eyes and searching through her memories. Images of the greatest wizards slaughtered one after another came rushing back to her like it was yesterday. Her memories never faded because her existence was memory itself. “The world should never rely on a single power. No matter what it is, it will ultimately lose control and lead to catastrophe. The ancient kingdom perished trying to establish a supreme magical civilization, but magic isn’t the only dangerous power. Fahn’s ideals, Beld’s ambition—they are equally dangerous.
“There must always be balance. Once that breaks down, catastrophic destruction is unavoidable. But it’s impossible to maintain a perfect balance—the scale will tip one way or the other, even more so when trying to balance the entire world. But what if the scale is endlessly rocked back and forth, so neither side can ever attain full victory?” Karla paused, thoughtfully swirling the wine in her glass, following the liquid with her eyes.
“Look at it at any given moment,” she went on, “and it will seem that one side is winning. But looking at the greater pattern, it might as well be balanced in the middle. I have meddled throughout history to tip the scales because it’s what’s best for Lodoss. Fahn’s faith in the light of law, Beld’s destructive power…if either gained supremacy, Lodoss would stabilize under a single power. But that stability wouldn’t last forever. In the future, when it finally crumbles, the destruction would be so great that the war between the gods pales in comparison, and civilization would collapse again. It could even cause the end of the world.”
“You must realize that what I’m saying is true,” she said, “so I’ll ask you again—join me, and save the world from destruction—”
“Is that it?” Parn asked in a low voice. Karla nodded, waiting silently for his reply. “Then here’s my answer—no. We’re not going to join you. Maybe there’s some truth to what you’re saying, who knows? But no matter the reason, toying with people’s hearts and lives is never right! How many have died in the battles that you caused?!” Parn stood up and slammed his fist on the table. An empty glass fell over and rolled into a wine bottle with a clink.
“Even if many more lives are lost when the day of destruction arrives?” Karla asked, her expression unchanged. She met Parn’s furious gaze unflinchingly.
“Even if that’s true, a single human being shouldn’t be allowed to manipulate destiny! That should be left to the gods!”
Karla simply nodded once, then stood. Everyone braced themselves, but Karla simply walked past them, straight toward the door.
“Then I’ll leave it
at that. If you disagree with what I’ve done, fine. Try to stop me if you want. I’ll take you on any time.”
“Then we’ll settle this right here and now!” Parn shouted, hand on his sword.
“I told you, no blades here!” the Great Magus said sharply.
Karla waved her right hand at Parn, preparing to meet his attack—but before she could activate her magic rings, Ghim grabbed Parn from behind.
“Parn, wait! Just wait!”
“What’re you doing, Ghim?! You’re going to let Karla escape?!”
“Ghim’s just saying not here,” Deedlit said, helping the dwarf hold him back.
“I apologize, Great Magus Wort,” Slayn said to the old man with a bow.
“You should mind your manners,” Karla said with a cold laugh, and continued on.
“May I ask one thing?” Slayn asked. Karla paused and looked back.
“What is it?”
“Have you really lived for five hundred years? There’s no known spell for eternal youth—at least, not among Academy wizards.”
“Why do you want to know? Would you seek out this spell if you found out it existed?”
“I don’t know. I’m just surprised that you’ve lived so long, even for a wizard of the ancient kingdom. Even in ancient texts, I’ve never seen an immortality spell mentioned. Just the knowledge that one exists would be a great motivation for the wizards.”
“What an interesting way you think.”
“Is it?” he said. “Perhaps not as interesting as you. With your powers, there could be other methods to save the world from destruction.”
“There aren’t. I’m not omnipotent. I can only affect the balance on this island, and I can only exist like this because I’ve always remained hidden in the shadows of history. If I had stepped out into the open even once, someone would have killed me. My role in this modern era is over—everything has already been set into motion, so I will retreat into the shadows until I am needed once more…” Karla turned back to the door. “Wort, I will take my leave. Brave adventurers, may you receive Marfa’s blessings.” At last, she opened the door and left.