“Two… I wasn’t judged sensitive enough to warrant a watcher while I slept. The last archmage to require three was my friend, Gareth Gaelyn,” she said promptly.
That seemed odd. Gareth Gaelyn had supposedly been defeated in battle with Balinthor, while Moira later went on to defeat the dark god, yet he had required more watchers? That doesn’t make sense, I thought. “If he was more powerful why did he fail… where you succeeded?” As I said it I immediately realized it was rude, but sometimes my mouth gets the best of me.
“Power… you have to stop thinking like that! An archmage does not possess power! He becomes power. Because of this no archmage is intrinsically more powerful than another; the difference lies in the ease with which they can adapt themselves. Gareth’s talent made him a brilliant shape-shifter, something most archmages avoid. It also made it easy for him to attempt something that would have daunted a mage with more caution, someone more aware of their own limits!” she spat out angrily.
“I did not meant to offend,” I hastily apologized. At the same time I was mentally reviewing what she had said. Shape-shifting wasn’t something I had read of in the few books I had had a chance to study so far. The term was intriguing, while also being frightening in its implications. I stayed silent for a while before speaking again, “If you don’t mind telling me… what did he do?”
She watched me for a moment, as if considering her words. “We were being driven from the Kingdom of Garulon. It was the first time we had met the shiggreth and they were something of a surprise for us. Balinthor had kept them hidden from us until that day and they overwhelmed our defense of the capital. Because we had not faced such creatures before we had no idea what they could do… or how to fight them. We lost the city and the army routed. Thousands died in the span of a few hours and those of us still able to keep order withdrew, seeking to escape the chaos. The fear and despair drove Gareth to attempt something radical. He was desperate or he would never have done it.” She stopped then and turned her back on me, as if to hide her face. Despite her alien body her demeanor was entirely human, as were the emotions I felt running through her.
I waited.
“He became a dragon,” she said at last.
Apparently I had used up my supply of ‘wisdom’ because in my surprise I interrupted, “I thought dragons were only fairy tales.”
“They are, or rather, they were… until that day. Gareth had always been fascinated with the stories. In a moment of desperation he sought to create the beasts he had dreamed of from the stories of childhood. I am not sure if his fear and anger twisted his imagination, or if it was purely a foolish thing to begin with, but the dragon he became was a creature of fury and destruction. It tore into the enemy, tossing them about as if they were dolls, incinerating those it could not reach with its claws. Very few of the shiggreth that had come against us survived, and even the avatar of Balinthor left the field, rather than face the dragon directly.”
“The history book I found did not mention any of this,” I said.
“I doubt any of the scholars would have written of it. The shame of it stained his memory. Before that day Gareth had been well respected and loved by all that knew him,” she replied.
“But it sounds as if he succeeded. What went wrong?” I already had a fair inkling of what she might tell me, but I wanted to hear it in her own words.
“After he had killed as many of the enemy as he could find he turned on what was left of the defenders of Garulon. He slaughtered friend and foe alike. Few survived, apart from those I was able to hide.”
I had expected something tragic. If anything it helped put my own experiences in perspective, especially the end of the recent war with Gododdin. At least I didn’t kill my own people, I thought. “What happened after that?” I asked finally.
“We hid for days, waiting for the dragon to leave, but the creature was cunning. Like a cat it waited, catching those who revealed themselves. Eventually, when I felt him leave I emerged from my hiding place in the earth and gathered up those few others who had managed to escape. The dragon that had been Gareth was gone. Whether it still lives or died long ago I have no idea.”
We talked for a short while after that, but our conversation had taken on a dark tone and I had lost my enthusiasm for it. Eventually I decided to return to the castle. I had had enough of dark tales and tragic endings. My own life had nearly become one after all.
“I need to return, do you mind if we continue talking at another time?” I asked.
“No need to be polite Mordecai. I am only an echo, turn your attention aside and I practically cease to exist. Call me when you would speak again,” she answered. With a wry smile she sank into the earth and as quickly as she had come, she was gone again.
Dusting the leaves from my trousers I headed back toward the keep, people would be looking for me by now.
Chapter 6
That evening Marc explained his plan to visit the capital to everyone over dinner. Dorian and Penny had been relieved simply to see him attending the evening meals again so the news that he would be traveling was rather disappointing for them. Still we were all glad to know he was beginning to find a new purpose for his life.
Dorian had many a question for him regarding his reason for exploring my father’s library but Rose was strangely quiet throughout the meal, quietly picking at her venison. Considering her usual chattiness I couldn’t help but wonder at her reticence.
“So how long do you think you’ll be gone?” asked Dorian. As he spoke he skillfully cut a large joint of meat from a serving platter before passing it along.
Marc smiled, lighting his features with a warmth that made it seem as if his recent depression couldn’t possibly have been real. “A while my friend, after I finish there I plan to travel a bit… see if I can get access to some of the records kept by the various churches.”
Dorian still wasn’t comfortable with the fact that Marc had rejected his goddess. The Thornbear family had been followers of the Lady of the Evening Star for many generations and despite what both of us had told him he still seemed to feel that the goddess must have some good reason for her refusal to help. Deep down I’m sure he secretly hoped that Marcus would reconcile with Millicenth. “Are you trying to figure out why she did what she did?” he said.
“Partly,” answered Marc. He knew better than to voice his desire for vengeance against the gods. It would only upset Dorian and ruin the meal.
Dorian snorted, “’Partly’ isn’t much of an answer… why don’t you just spit out what you’re thinking?” Sometimes Dorian could be more perceptive than people expected from such a massive man.
Rose interrupted before I could, “Dorian don’t badger him! He’s been through a lot, let him enjoy his food.”
“I wasn’t badgering him,” Dorian groused. “I’m just tired of not hearing what’s on people’s minds.”
Marcus spoke up earnestly, “Look Dorian I’m not trying to shut you out. I just need to get away. This gives me something to do and a reason to travel.” I marveled at how sincere the half-truth sounded coming from my friend.
“When do you plan on going?” Rose asked suddenly.
“Tonight if Mort doesn’t mind teleporting me,” Marc answered immediately.
We had already discussed this earlier so I simply nodded my head in agreement. “Would you mind taking a note to my father for me?” asked Rose. “I haven’t seen him in months and I’m sure he must be worried.”
“Certainly Rose,” Marc agreed quickly.
She thanked him and the rest of our meal went quietly after that. I caught Rose looking at me once or twice but she looked away whenever I caught her staring. Even with my advantage in sensing emotions I had no idea what was on her mind. Rose Hightower was a complex puzzle that I had long ago despaired of understanding. It was clear though that she was curious about something.