by Reiter
Man is the only kind of varmint sets his own trap, baits it, then steps in it.
John Steinbeck
(VI)
He walked slowly, leaning on his staff while taking strides much shorter than his demonstrated norm. Normal walking for Freund, as it were, was often only engaged outside the public eye. According to what they knew, what they believed, he was old and physically bent; all the more reason for him to work to master the powers of the mind. He had lost his eyesight, and, from all appearances, the rest of his body was not far behind. Allowing – and often aiding – the assumption, Freund had created a gap between the man he was and the entity he sustained. It was a very effective veil to many perspectives, but not his own.
How quickly a bitter truth can be forgotten, provided it was ever accepted as a truth. The feel of the corridor had not changed in all the years he had known it, and he smiled, fully aware the station of influence the corridor held over him maintained its position only because of the power he had given it.
“Not much remains of the world I walked as a common man,” Freund thought. “Back then, these halls were lined with far too much wasted MajiK! Floating torches and alternating sky-view murals; the stuff of foolish fancy; it gave the place a false sentiment. Behind each torch was a test that would press your sanity, and within every mural was a mad painter eager to rewrite the beliefs of MannA, no matter how many students’ bodies it required to attain such a height.
“Without us to give it name and definition, time is a cruel mistress we insist on worshiping,” Freund whispered. He could still feel the sentiment of assumed authority as well as the pain of the aching backs upon which such sentiments stood. The standing, however, was not as honest and open as he recalled. The backs strained under the weight without the knowledge that they had been tasked without their consent.
“And what do we have here?” Freund asked as corridor became a long and gracious bridge to the next section of the massive construct. Far below the bridge there was a room of padded walls and floor. It was a sparring chamber, and Freund could tell the effect of the padding was not limited to softer falls.
A young man and a young woman were facing off against one another. They had no words for each other and proceeded directly to their contest. Freund could feel their personal apertures, called thresholds by those of the community, beginning to surge into the tween-realm to touch upon the free flowing MannA.
“I’m going to be ill,” Freund remarked as the man lifted his hands and directed a thrust of raw MannA against his opponent. In the rank and file of mortality, the capacity of the attack was considered most impressive, and Freund could remember a time when he too had thought quantity could overwhelm quality. How many times would he be forced to admit that even when he had eyes, well before the time when he took the name of Freund, that he had been so very blind?
Lifting a field of raw MannA in front of her chest, the woman caught the attack and her feet slid a full meter before she stopped. She sighed and nearly collapsed from the effort she had exercised to protect herself. She staggered forward a step as her opponent was quick to mount a second effort. Another thrust shot from his hands and Freund was surprised to detect a greater amount of power had been employed than the first attack.
Screaming from the effort of moving forward, the woman lunged and caught the thrust. Instead of simply stopping it, she took hold of it. The stream was broken in half and the young woman guided each strand around her body before arching them toward her opponent. Caught unawares by the maneuver, the young man was floored by his own power.
“Master Freund,” the loyal disciple who was Freund’s escort spoke, ushering the old, blind man down the corridor.
“Forgive me, plebian,” Freund said bitterly. “I forgot you were there. Surely you should have more of a presence, given the power you have attained; the overly decorated doorman to an overly decorated building.”
“My power, old one, comes from my service,” the man replied.
“I see,” Freund said in a very mocking tone. “Leave it to the broom to give praise to the dust it sweeps!”
“Or the dirt it is has been asked to collect, Master.”
Freund chuckled as he started walking. “Oh, there are things about this place today! That I can say for sure.” Freund continued his laughter across the bridge and into the next section of corridor. From there, it was a short walk to the massive double doors at the end of the hallway. They opened only after Freund had to stop walking to keep from running into them.
“At last!” a voice cried out. “He is among us!”
“Was I not invited?” Freund thought. “I could have sworn I was invited to this place. Didn’t I see to it that I was invited?!” the old one amused himself. “But alas, it is time to begin the show!
“That must be young Master Whulrynn,” Freund said with a smile as he waved. “I’d know that voice anywhere!
“And it would appear that it is the intention of the masters of this hall that hearing be the only sense left to me,” Freund concluded as he sensed the enchanted vines stretching across the ceiling of the chamber. The leaves and blossoms reflected light in such variations that he could not count on his facial vision. The pollen that dropped from the numerous buds was pleasant and effectively covered the smell of oil on the archaic weapons of those who stood as security for the various attending dignitaries of might. He could hear the footfalls of the one who had spoken as he rushed to meet Freund.
“It is good to see you again, Master Freund,” Davodd said as he offered his arm to the entity. He knew better than to take hold of Freund, as that was not what he or most any other blind person wanted. His father, Virthez Whulrynn, had taught him at an early age how to approach people… all sorts of people, and the proven SpellCasteR had taken to those lessons very well. “Very good indeed!”
“You may go now, doorman,” Freund said, turning back to speak to his usher. “Mind those dust bunnies!” The tall man said nothing, but the blind entity could hear his teeth grinding.
“Thank you for responding so quickly, my mentor,” Davodd said softly.
“You are not the sort to use the word urgent loosely,” Freund replied. “And the business of the Enacranites must always be considered vital, even if not always significant.”
“I told you!” an Enacranite stated loudly as he stood up from his chair. “I told you this would be the sort of reception our entreaty would receive! Flippancy and sarcasm! That’s all he’s ever been good for.”
“Perhaps,” Freund responded quickly, cutting off many who were about to answer the claim. “… but I have been bad for so much more!” Chuckles and muffled laughter were heard throughout the room, but it was certainly the minority of the gathering. Still, Freund’s most immediate objectives had been accomplished. The sounds of the laughter had painted the room perfectly, and he knew the dimensions of the chamber – which had been changed yet again – and the number of attendants. He even knew that not all of the ones present were human. He smiled and reached for Davodd’s arm. “Certainly is a nice turn out,” he said softly and Davodd quickly agreed. The speed of his response gave Freund even more information.
“Yes, do laugh!” the Enacranite remarked. “Laugh, please. Be amused. That is what clowns are for!” The laughter stopped as throats drew tight, not knowing what to expect from Freund in the way of a response.
“This is far enough,” Freund said to Davodd. He was where he could be seen by everyone in the room and about ten good strides from the chair that had been set out in the middle of the floor. “Besides, I must refuse to perform in a circus that has only one ring.” The tension in the room lessened slightly as Davodd moved to get the chair for Freund. “That will not be necessary, Davodd. I am not going to be staying too long. Is that not correct, Mulrear?”
Aebrynn Mulrear was not surprised that the blind thing knew him by his voice. It was a trick he had seen before, and the measure had long since lost its charm. He walked down from where he
had been standing and faced Freund.
“I would prefer it if you were not here at all!” he said while glaring at the entity.
“May I remind my lord and my fellow Enacranites that Freund is only here because we asked him to attend these halls once more,” Davodd defended his friend. He felt the hand of the entity gently pat his shoulder, but Davodd would not be undone. “Certainly we can act within what is considered acceptable decorum!”
“Many things are certain, boy,” Freund thought as he stepped back from Davodd. “One of the immediate facts is about to present itself. It would seem that many moves have been made by the peculiar creature who has taken my Star Lark. Once again, I am playing catch-up! What you’re looking for, my young friend, will have to wait for another day… another time.”
“We owe no such decorum to the likes of Freund!” Mulrear yelled. “With all that has happened… with all that he knows… he tells us nothing while he… HE runs his games and gambits with our very lives hanging in the balance!”
“And there it is,” Freund thought.
“What are you talking about, Mulrear?” a woman spoke, deciding to stand as well.
“But soft, what sound from yonder female breaks?” Freund amused himself yet again. “It is the east, and another interruption is the sun. Arise, fair interruption, give thy name and stand thee aside whilst I am forced to remind the powerful that they are neither full nor even possessive of power!”
Her name was Niadra Whiteleaf and she was a mixed breed… a very rare Olassibred Terran, and gifted in the applications of MannA. Though she had been trained by the Olasson, it was not too surprising to find her spending time among the Terrans. “I have come… we all have come to tend to what was called the most grave of matters. I thought it might have something to do with what the Olasson have told us.”
“And it does, Mistress,” Mulrear replied. “It does!”
“It looks as if someone has been speaking with their keeper recently,” Freund pointed out, wanting to bring an end to this game of false faces. If Mulrear was too frightened to initiate matters, he would find a most helpful friend in Freund. “An Enacranite Lord, bowing and scraping at the feet of the most wayward of gods and goddesses. Methinks the title of Lord has been overly stretched.”
“Master,” Davodd called to Freund, reaching for his arm.
Mulrear’s hands were clenched into tight fists. “You would dare to–”
“I would dare a great many things, Aebrynn Mulrear,” Freund snapped as he turned toward the Enacranite he had purposefully offended and started to walk toward him, still leaning heavily on his staff. “We’ve all heard the tales, haven’t we? I’ve sold off souls to the devils and demons of the Rims in exchange for my power. I devour women and children to maintain my life-force. I might even destroy inhabited planets simply because I don’t care for the deity or deities worshipped there.
“But I’ve never counted myself in the company of the confused,” Freund continued, a hissing quality added to his voice. “Look at you, a so-called Lord of the Enacranites. While it is doubtless that you are an individual of incredible power – we’re not sure if you’re a wizard or a priest!” A few murmurs could be heard in the wake of Freund’s word. “Tell us, Mulrear, when was your last working of significant MajiK that was brought about without having to entreaty someone, or something, to hold your wand?!”
“This!” Mulrear cried, hurling a bolt of raw MannA at Freund who smacked the bolt aside with relative ease.
“I said significant, trickster!” the entity shouted as a wind started to blow inside the large chamber. A soft light began to glow from Freund’s eye sockets. “Not the light-enabled petulance I can get from an enfeebled youngling! Real MajiK! Where is it, boy?!”
“Master!” Davodd called out and Freund could feel the shock and surprise in his voice, but he could not be too concerned with it. Freund had come to know a great many things about life in the universes. So many mysteries had unraveled right in front of him. With each new discovery he came to appreciate the things he had known when he was considered mortal. The sentiment behind the Serenity Prayer, for example, allowed him to contend quite easily with the sting of disappointing Davodd. He had played this part of the game too many times to bother himself with the impression of every flower he passed on the trail. He was fighting to save the entire garden, and the fact that there would be casualties of war was an unavoidable consequence.
“Bah!” Freund spat as he thrust his hand toward Davodd. The telekinetic force was powerful and immediate; it had to be with the spell Mulrear was about engage. It would have been easier to levy a mental attack against the Lord Enacranite, but Freund was not looking for a simple victory; that was not something he could use.
“Here is my power, old man!” Aebrynn cried. “Tatsurgatti!” Freund knew well the word of power often used by the Mulrear family. A sweeping majority of the people in the chamber, who comprised the ruling body of the Enacranites, were generational. That was one of the reasons why Freund never truly agreed with their ilk, and even as a simple man he had steered clear of being too involved with their interests. Still, to use the family power word meant the incantation had been previously cast and stored in Mulrear’s Spell Vault.
White light and gray fire erupted around Aebrynn as he waved his hands around his head and chest. His eyes were aglow with a soft white light and Freund was disgusted at the latest example of nepotism. How many casters did he know who could perform the spell with greater control? But they would never be called a Lord or Lady Enacranite because their parents were not Enacranites. The combination of light and fire flared before arcing toward Freund who simply smiled and turned his head slightly.
“Behold true power,” Freund said softly, tapping his staff to the ground, releasing a previously arranged working of ThoughtWill. Where he stood was warm with the workings of MannA and he quickly absorbed the wasted energy. He could tell by the gasps and soft shrieks that his counter to Aebrynn’s spell had indeed been successful. He stepped down from the makeshift platform, the bricks of the floor that he had teleported, exchanging them with the bricks upon which Aebrynn had been standing. So many beings of power had set defenses against being teleported, but those defenses seldom included the ground upon which they stood.
“Why teleport the man when you can teleport the floor upon which he stands?” Freund thought. With such a minimal range, the effect of the teleport had been nearly instantaneous, and Freund extended his senses to see the effect of the spell the powerful Aebrynn Mulrear had worked upon himself. The spell had created a pocket dimension within the definitions of Time a Space that were not meant to mesh well with this universe. Aebrynn was being dispersed and reassembled at various places all over his body. These changes occurred simultaneously and at an incredibly slow rate. Freund did not dare to reach into the man’s mind to gauge the pain he had to have been feeling; certain things needed to remain a mystery. The pocket dimension was also slowly growing, which indicated to Freund another piece of information he sought.
“Pathetic,” Freund said as he started to take his leave of the chamber. “Ask him for significant MajiK of his own making, and he uses yet another extension of his immortal hostess. Bah!”
“Explain yourself!” Niadra demanded.
“I am not your teacher,” Freund replied without stopping. “Do not force me to be!”
With a wave of her left hand, the doors to the chamber were barred as were the floors, walls and ceiling. If nothing else, she was more thorough than Aebrynn… yet still she was only a Mistress, not a Lady of this room.
“And how many Lords and Ladies remain silent,” Freund observed, the grip upon his staff tightening. “My fight, however, is not with the Enacranites… not yet. I am only here to use them, and that much has been achieved.
“You would stand where a Lord has fallen?” Freund asked as he stopped.
“The reality in which we find ourselves cares little for titles,” Niadra replied as her
feet slid to shoulder width.
“Smart girl!” Freund thought, allowing himself a slight smile as he turned to face her.
“Where do you want me to begin?” he asked.
“Curse you, old man!” Niadra shouted. Her nerves were beginning to get the better of her and Freund had to remind himself of his experiences with the mysterious Olasson. “Begin at what you consider to be an origin which will explain your actions and stay my hand!”
Called Ashari on some worlds and Elves on others, the Olasson were a simple – and therefore an unbelievably complicated – people. While they allowed themselves to study all the Energies and Sciences, they never strayed too far from MannA with which they possessed an innate gift. That advantage had not helped them when a young adventuring SorceroR took his friends, family, and their ship into the Olassic Region of the Outer Rim. After being attacked, tried and tested, he had emerged from the encounter with even greater power, the skills of a SpellCasteR, and the beginnings of an incantation which would eventually lead him to the realm of the most powerful beings he had ever encountered. With that sort of history in mind, Freund thought better of his current methodology.
“Aebrynn summoned you here to discuss a very pressing matter,” Freund stated. “… one that had far-reaching implications.”
“He mentioned it would affect every meter of the Rims!” one of the Enacranites added.
“That certainly is far-reaching, isn’t it?” Freund quipped. It was a good thing he did not need company in order to enjoy his own sense of humor. He chuckled to himself for a moment and then cleared his throat. “Well, while I am aware of the matter… and, as it turns out, greatly involved with it, I fear I have to say that I cannot speak of it entirely. That is a stipulation of those who are administering the event. They are of undeniable power and ability. Therefore, I will comply with their wishes. Suffice to say that Mulrear’s estimation of impact may have been slightly shortsighted.”