Kelos held a stone jug to Emuel’s lips, and he drank thirstily.
“Why are you doing this, Kelos? Why are you helping that man?” he said, after he had quenched his thirst
“Because if I don’t, things would be so much worse for you and Silus. Emuel, I’m doing what I can. I’ve been trying to work on Keldren, but it’s taking time.”
“If I have to endure this for much longer, I will die.”
Emuel was right. There was only so far he and Silus could be pushed. And once Keldren had concluded his experiments, what then? Kelos wondered at what cost the wizard’s sorcerous knowledge had been brought. Were all the great works that he so admired — that had formed the foundation of Kelos’s life in magic — so steeped in the blood of others? It sickened him to kowtow to a man of such lax morals and disregard for others, yet it was the only way he would get the measure of him. The wizard seemed to know the ultimate fate of his race: their destruction in an apocalypse that would wipe all but the smallest traces of their civilisation from the map. What if he could offer Keldren the means to survive? If Kelos could appeal to the vanity and hunger for knowledge that so obviously drove the wizard, would he abandon his own kind?
Kelos had to hope so, as it was the only option open to them. He and his companions might be the only humans in existence who knew of the true nature of Kerberos, and the threat they all faced from Hel’ss. If he couldn’t win Keldren round, then their future was decided with the end of all things.
“Either way, Emuel,” Kelos said. “I can promise that it will all be over soon.”
Keldren had set a fire going, the coals banked so high that they threatened to spill onto the hearth and ignite the rug. The heat from the flames offered little comfort, instead intensifying the humidity in the poky little study and making Kelos break into a sweat. Keldren, however, appeared perfectly at ease, even swathed as he was in his velvets and linens, all wrapped about by an ebon cloak. What was it about magic, Kelos wondered, that attracted people with such ostentatious tastes?
“This is all for nothing, you know,” Kelos said, sitting opposite the wizard and fanning himself with a pamphlet on the uses of mountain herbs in divination.
“Sorry?” Keldren said, glancing up from his reading.
“All this,” Kelos said. “All your knowledge will prove to be for naught. In the end the elves will fall along with the dwarves.”
Keldren looked back to the book in his hands and didn’t say anything. He lifted the wine glass from the table beside him and drank, and carefully placed the glass back down again.
“You know the truth of this, don’t you, Keldren? Just as you have calculated the coming of Hel’ss to my own time, you have calculated the destruction that will come to the Old Races.”
“The Old Races? Hah! Is that what you call us? Rather an ignominious phrase to describe the two mightiest empires Twilight will ever see, don’t you think?”
“You are avoiding the subject.”
Again, Keldren’s eyes went back to the book in his hands.
“Keldren!”
“Yes, Kelos. I understand what you are saying. But these, these survive,” Keldren said, gesturing with the book. “My studies will go on to form the foundation of modern magical thinking.”
“But what if I told you you could witness for yourself how important your works become? Just think, you could know the true significance of your legacy to magic. What other master of the sorcerous arts could ever hope to claim such knowledge?”
“Oh, Kelos, bless you. You’re talking in mere fantasies. I must admit that I feared I had pushed you too hard. Besides, I am already fully aware of the significance of my studies. I am, after all, the finest magical thinker of my time. You said so yourself.”
“No, you don’t understand. I said the finest magical thinker of my time. It will be thousands of years before the true significance of your works will be appreciated.”
“But… but the work I am doing here is of vital importance to the elven empire.”
“Really, Keldren? Then why have they buried you so far beneath the city, within these rotten tunnels where your library is constantly at threat from mould and insect infestation? When did the king last directly call on your services?”
“I… I…” Keldren was getting to his feet and it seemed, finally, that the warmth of the room was affecting him, for sweat now beaded his brow. “I am Keldren Dremos Enthrold!” he shouted, throwing his cloak back like some second-rate stage magician.
Kelos waited for a moment before he spoke, allowing the wizard to fully appreciate the impassive expression on his face.
“You will be entirely forgotten by your own generation. Your name will mean nothing until two hundred years before my time, when this, your library, will be discovered far beneath the waters of Freiport bay, still protected by the magical wards that you set in place. It will be the greatest discovery of elven magical texts in the history of the human race, and a whole new branch of elemental magic will be founded on the works that here surround us.
“But you won’t ever get to appreciate that, Keldren, and no one in the elven empire will ever sing your praises. You will have been dead for thousands of years before this discovery; by then, the empires of the elves and the dwarves will be just so much dust.”
Keldren sat back down heavily and took up his wine glass, looked into its contents and then, with a growl, threw the glass into the fireplace. He shot Kelos a glare of such intensity that the mage scrambled to his feet, worried that he had perhaps gone too far.
“You dare speak to me in this way? You, a mere human? Has it escaped you that were it not for the elves, the human race would never have existed? We should have terminated your kind as soon as you dragged yourselves from the sea.”
“Without my kind, all this will have been for nothing. My race continues the work that you began and if you kill me, Keldren, you will never see the fruits of your studies.”
Keldren glowered, then sighed. “You’re right, of course. They don’t value me, you know. If they did I would at least be granted a post at one of the academies of magic.”
“In my time, Keldren, an entire university has been established in your name: The Keldren Dremos Enthrold School of Elemental Magic. Scholars come from all over the peninsula to study there.”
“That is wonderful, but I shall never get to see it. Like you say, our empire will crumble into dust.”
“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you! I can show you the future, Keldren. I can show you wonders you could never imagine and, in return, you can aid us in our fight against Hel’ss, using your vast magical knowledge. You may not be able to do anything to prevent the destruction of your own kind, but why not turn your talents to saving our race? A people who continue your good work?”
“And how are you going to make this happen?”
“If I can again perform the spell that brought us all to this time, then I’m certain that I’ll be able to propel us forward into our own era. But I’ll need your help with something first.”
“And that is?”
“I was only able to perform the spell in the first place because I had access to a vast reservoir of raw magic. Now, I understand that in the bay sits an entire fleet of song ships?”
“Yes? And?”
“Each of those song ships is empowered by a magical gem. If we can gain access to a store of such stones, then I will be able to use the power within them to perform the spell once more.”
Keldren laughed and shook his head.
“I don’t understand. What’s so funny?”
“Oh, Kelos. I may be Keldren Dremos Enthrold, but I don’t have access to such stores. If I were to be found in such a restricted part of the docks, I would be arrested on sight. I’m just a lowly mage in a dank basement study; I don’t have the clearance to go wandering around the most jealously-guarded of the empire’s assets.”