Gamalon laughed and continued, "Malavar gained his third hand by slaying Akhir, the second son of Amahl III, who tried to assassinate his father and become the second Shoon emperor. The boy had sorcerous powers, rather than the typical wizardry, and Malavar made a decades-long study of his corpse and his confiscated books on magic.
Amahl's third son rose to power as Shoon I by the time Malavar crafted the mummified Hand of Akhir into a powerful relic. Accurate accounts as to the hand's full powers have been lost for centuries. All we know for certain is that the Hand of Akhir allowed Malavar to remain a power in the court of the Shoon for more than fifty years and remain young well past three times that many winters." "This Malavar wore a mummified hand?" Raegar laughed, "How do you people think these things up? If I want something powerful, I'll go track down a nice clean magical sword, thanks." "Don't mock, boy," Gamalon said. "There is more power in the severed hand of a sorcerer than in some countries, strange as it may seem. I could tell you of a hand down in Chult that, should you light candles upon its fingertips, bends tomorrow into yesterday. But I digress. Here is the truth-Malavar existed, along with Akhir's Hand, and they were both powerful, but not powerful enough to stand against two whole clans of wizards. He was exiled from Shoon lands in the Year of the Moor Birds. For two years, he then was chased all across the Sword Coast by dozens of mercenary wizards hoping to even old scores or claim even a piece of his powers. "He finally made his stand at Highstar Lake against five archmages.
Depending on which sources you read, Malavar attempted magic unseen in centuries and lost control of it. He and most of his foes perished and were buried in the High Moor's blasted crust. All that remained to mark the battle were the five curved stone slabs that Maildak of Westgate first coined as Malavar's Grasp in Things I Believe and Have Seen over seven centuries ago." "So what's the truth? What was this fellow after, and does it tell us what Frostrune's looking for?"
Raegar asked. "Thanks to Khelben and his friends-myself included-there are more than fourteen different accounts as to exactly what Malavar was doing and how he died, as well as twice the number of references and legends that reinforce each one." Gamalon chuckled. "At this point, it's likely only Oghma, Mystra, and Malavar himself know the truth. Khelben would try to hoodwink you into believing he's got all the knowledge. Most of it, true, but just enough is missing that he can be blindsided." "Wait a breath-you're telling me wizards have made up false accounts and passed them off to us as history?" Raegar rose and paced angrily. "Bad enough to hide secrets for themselves, but to actively confuse and distract honest historians from-" "Oh, ye'd think someone told ye Leira had mists in her shift, the way ye're goin' on."
Syndra became visible again as she rose through the stone floor. "Of course there's false histories out there. If ye actually believe there's only one or two sides to any story, ye've not been payin' attention, lad. Now, I agree that some of Khelben's more creative 'histories' may have done as much harm as good, but the truth is still the truth, and for those who need to learn it, they do, despite any obfuscatin'." "But… well…" Raegar sputtered. He caught himself and took a deep breath. "All right. Setting that aside for now, haven't his secrets and changed histories brought a lot of danger down on folks? If he hadn't hidden so many secrets in so many lies, wouldn't your wife still be alive? Or you?" Gamalon and Syndra both paled then turned scarlet with anger. While Gamalon kept a white-knuckled grip on his staff, Syndra's hand began to crackle… until Nameless flew up among them and snarled loudly. Raegar took a step back, hands up, and whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." The quartet remained deathly quiet for a few moments, as they drew closer to the clouds over Faerun.
Gamalon cleared his throat and said softly, "Regrets and sorrows are for another time. Know this, young scholar-thief. Had such secrets not been buried-a mystery inside an enigma inside a puzzle-they would have been uncovered centuries before the Realms was ready for them.
'Mystery cloaks the walk of the Lady, for in her wake are secrets to be earned, not granted.'" "Spare us the sermon, temple-goer," Syndra growled. "Listen up, boy. I paid for this with my life more than a century ago. I was angry. I was bitter. I was dead. I hated Khelben for more years than ye've been alive, and here I am workin' his will and hers. Why? Surprise! Mystra'll have her sacrifices, just like any other bloody god. And no matter what the cost, the ultimate goal that's hidden for so long makes it worth it for everyone." Raegar stomped around the open room. "Then what's the goal, if it's worth setting fire to Waterdeep and killing innocent people and covering the land with lightning storms?" "Magic and unity," Syndra whispered.
"Magic untouched in millennia to stave off the darkness growin' all around us. For once, it will be magic for many races, not just elves or humans. Isn't that a goal worth any cost?" "No," Gamalon croaked,
"but the Lady of Mysteries deemed it so, and my faith demands I accept until I too believe it." "I just want to know why Damlath had to die,"
Raegar said. "Why, if Khelben knew about the power of those items, didn't he hold them all himself? Or better yet, if it's to bring some great magic to life, why didn't he do so before the Godsfall and save Mystra herself and so many others who died then?" "Boy, ye're asking the right questions. Gods know, I've asked them of him too." Syndra sighed and continued, "What ye find is that Khelben's never parted with secrets until he's forced to. I respect that, if only because I don't want his responsibilities. After all, half the reasons the man's so exasperatin' is because he's workin' angles that take centuries to complete. The other reasons involve visions from Mystra herself, and she can be a vague bitch sometimes…" "Blasphemer!" Gamalon barked, then turned his head up with his eyes closed in prayer. "We walk beneath your stars and eyes, accepting in your wisdom, Lady. Forgive those who sully the Path." Gamalon halted the progress of the tower, and calmed himself. "I take my faith seriously. I take my studies and my work equally so. All you need to know is that all things have happened as they needed to-to give us all the motivation and drive to do what we must." Syndra stalked away, the rod and the bracer swinging wildly to express her frustrations. Raegar said, "Well, I have to live with my part in your wife's death and I can never apologize enough for it. I never harmed anyone who didn't deserve it, and that's one of many reasons I need to see that lich in the ground." "I've prayed, and I've cast spells to understand everything that happened that night, Raegar. Mystra herself forgives you, and I forgive you. If not for your actions, everyone in that inn would have died, rather than the five who did." The silence on the tower was interrupted by the booming thunder in the clouds below. No one said a thing as they moved closer and closer to thunderheads that loomed higher than any others. "Of course," Raegar muttered aloud. "The most lightning bolts-with that pyramid of his-would have the greatest storms over head." "The magic we're fighting toward, Raegar? And how Priamon seemingly amassed power so easily?" Gamalon said. "We needed him too. I hardly believe Priamon knows the truth behind Malavar; he simply wants to claim the Hand of Akhir or other relics to conquer the cabal of liches of which he is a part. Priamon thinks to use the lightning to awaken Malavar, but he awakens a vastly older magic. Malavar's Grasp is not the petrified remains of a Shoon wizard. So, Priamon is doomed to fail in his quest." "Well, what is it then? It's obviously important and dangerous, or else Khelben wouldn't be pulling together all those high-powered wizards." Raegar paced around Gamalon, his feet matching the pace of his thoughts. "What sort of magic are you facing?" "Heard of killin' storms, kid?" Syndra materialized directly in front of him, and Raegar stumbled right through her. A wave of cold passed through him, and he shivered while Syndra snickered. "They're impossible.