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The ensuing three days were quite a trial for Adam, troubled as he was by the constant need to be on his guard against the beast that fought to rule his mind and body. When he had first given himself to the dark path, he had lost control, regaining it only when he had retrieved his sword, and invoked the ancient magic. Because of this lapse, he was now forced to inhabit the grotesque body that his dark side owned, its persona forced into submission by the will of his true nature.
Now surrounded as he was by the friendly elves, and at the side of his companion Quilvar once more, he was ever wary of his own actions. Although only Vorcan knew of the intense battle he constantly waged to keep control of his mind; he was beginning to find it difficult to hide from Quilvar. At least now he knew how Beorhtán must have struggled against his alter ego, Shegrimoth.
Despite knowing that there was a need for haste, Adam was unable to bring himself to force the pace at which events occurred on Ashtirian. After their first encounter and the dramatic events and revelations that followed, the elves had taken him from the small wood where he had met their king, to the centre of the island. Here amongst its peaceful groves and pastures, the elves lived and worked, tending their flocks and fields, and perfecting their magic.
For Quilvar it was a time of adjustment, yet despite Adam’s fears, the knowledge of his death and subsequent restoration appeared to have caused the elf no real harm. Although the surviving elves had yet to return from the battle at Kaldshard, King Tillion and the rest of his people insisted on holding a celebration that first day to welcome Quilvar’s return. It wasn’t until the next morning that Quilvar was able to be alone with Adam. Throughout the daylight hours of that day and the next, Adam told him all about what had happened since their separation in Gholthos, making sure he left nothing out.
He had two reasons for taking such care with his explanations, the first, simply that he wanted to be certain his friend clearly understood what he had done and why, to help him reach the right decision over his offer, the second was even more important. Adam had already told Vorcan that three of them would travel from Falgorin, but he hadn’t even put the idea to Quilvar yet. Throughout Adam’s narration, Quilvar had listened intently, finally refusing outright his offer to free him from the memories that now were part of him, convinced that the knowledge caused him no harm.
As dusk approached on their first day together, Adam excused himself from his elf companion, suggesting that Quilvar should spend some time with his brother, whilst he returned to be with Vorcan. Although a little surprised, Quilvar accepted what had seemed a reasonable enough proposal and as Adam left the elves’ community, thought nothing more of it. When Adam made the same suggestion on the following evening, although less inclined to accept the idea, Quilvar at first contented himself with accompanying him back to where Vorcan waited.
For a while they walked in silence, with Quilvar openly studying his companion, engrossed in the disfigured being that he had become. From their conversations, the creature beside him was still as much Adam as he had ever been, yet physically there was no similarity. Where Adam had been tall and walked with a straight back, this poor brute was bent and crippled, its skin no longer fair, but dull and blackened, even Adam’s amethyst eyes had changed, replaced by gleaming red orbs. It was hard for the elf to accept they were the same being, and the sight saddened him.
As they walked, Quilvar realized Adam wasn’t going to tell him what it was that was obviously worrying him, so he started to probe. Because there were so many things he wanted to ask his friend, striking up a conversation presented no problem, although he rightly guessed that once he tried to steer it the way he wanted it to go it would prove more difficult. Despite the elf’s efforts, not once did Adam offer anything that would explain his apparent distraction. Finally, there being only one course open to him, the elf tried the direct approach and asked Adam why it was that he sought the dragon’s company each evening.
At first he was evasive, but when Quilvar persisted, he revealed his fears about how he might lose control over the beast that lay within him once he was asleep. During the hours of darkness, it grew in strength, making the fight to keep it subverted more difficult and dangerous. By being with the dragon, he was distancing himself from those he cared for, knowing Vorcan could carry him from the island before he could harm the elves if he began to lose control of it. It was then Quilvar began to understand Adam’s need for haste, since his mastery over the dark side of his being was so fragile.
On the third morning, Quilvar went to meet Adam, who after a little prevarication, finally explained what it was that he had to do. The elf sat in silence as Adam told him how he and Vorcan would leave Falgorin, to go in search of the token that would free him from his tormented body, and seek out the being he called Chirrim, that he might finally bring Shegrimoth down.
Despite the many questions that he wanted to ask, the first thing that Quilvar said the moment Adam finished speaking, was, “Then I shall travel with you.” And before Adam was able to protest, he added, “I have no reason to remain here, only when Beorhtán returns will I be happy to go back to my home in Mount Kaldshard.”
Adam was overjoyed at the elf’s words, yet his concern for his friend prompted him to offer at least some protestation. “Quilvar, my friend you cannot know how it pleases me to hear you say that, yet I must caution you before you decide. What lies before us I cannot say, yet I suspect it will prove just as dangerous if not more so than anything we have already faced. Are you sure you want to risk your life again in this quest?”
“Nothing could be more certain,” replied the elf, “we started this together, and that’s the way we shall see it through.”
“But what of your brother, he will miss you?”
“As I will miss him, yet we have lived apart for so long I’m sure he will understand.”
“There’s one other thing,” added Adam, “no one must know where it is we travel.”
“That’s easy, since you haven’t told me where we’re going, I shall tell Tillion that we have things to attend to. He’ll not ask if no explanation is offered, and would expect me to go with you, since he knows I owe you my life.”
“That’s hardly the truth,” replied Adam, “it was because of me that you lost it in the first place.”
“Huh!” said Quilvar scowling, “as I recall, I insisted in accompanying you to Gholthos, against your wishes at the beginning.”
“I’ll not argue,” said Adam wearily, “you know how pleased I am that you will be coming with me and Vorcan, if I’m honest, I had hoped that you would. Now since you have been so patient, I will tell you where it is that we must venture to seek the token. It’s not on Falgorin that we must search but far away on the world of Esborr, that’s where the Orb of Chirrim is to be found. There too, I hope to find answers to the mysteries of the Manifex. When I first spoke with Vilsagoth in the Glomer’s labyrinth, it was he and his kind that I thought had created Falgorin. Now I know this is not true. I believe Chirrim is the one you call the Creator, and it was he who created this world. The Mythrali are not the benevolent beings I once thought, they are using Falgorin, and probably other worlds as simple playthings.
“There’s still so much that I don’t understand, so many parts to the puzzle that I cannot even begin to put them all together yet. I believe Chirrim has those answers, but I don’t know if I can reach him. Shegrimoth has left Falgorin and won’t return, but I must understand the Dark One better if I am to find and destroy him. I don’t know if Shegrimoth was created by Chirrim or the Mythrali, or why he was allowed to overcome Beorhtán and escape from Falgorin, but these are things I must find answers to. There’s also the mystery of how the Manifex came to be in my grandfather’s possession. When I told Beorhtán about that he couldn’t explain it, yet it must have some significance.
“Once I allowed the dark side of my being greater freedom, I began to sense a far greater purpose to all that has happened. Using the ancient magic has changed not only me but this world and much more. Falgorin will no longer be threatened with destruction by Shegrimoth since he is gone, yet its fate still lies in the hands of its inhabitants. As on my own world, its peoples may either nurture that which the lands provide or destroy it in pursuit of greed and power. But there is so much more that I have to learn and understand if I am to have any hope of fulfilling the destiny that I believe has been made mine.”
“This ancient magic that you speak of,” said Quilvar, “where did you find it, and how do you know of this Orb of Chirrim?”
Adam looked troubled as he recalled the events that led to his acquiring the knowledge that had changed him, “It was locked in the deepest recesses of the mind of the sorcerer, Murran. When I tried to free him of the Ghyyrox, I entered his mind, and as with the melding with Ichabod, all of his knowledge became mine for the taking. Murran had the knowledge of the ancient magic, and I took it from him.”
“But if Murran knew such powerful magic, why did he not use it for himself?” asked Quilvar.
“Because he couldn’t. Only one who treads the path of light can use such powerful white magic. It was because of this that I was able to do what I did, and invoke the spell, keeping enough of my former self to control my dark side, yet it requires great effort on my part, and I must return to the light soon, or succumb forever.”
Quilvar’s expression darkened as he considered his next question, “If that happens,” he asked timorously, “would you still wield the power of the ancient magic?” The answer to that question holding greater import than anything so far discussed.
“Yes,” was Adam’s only reply, the consequence of such a situation too dreadful to contemplate. Power so great that whole worlds would be at his mercy, beyond the Mythrali, perhaps even beyond Chirrim to control.
Still trying to absorb what Adam had said, Quilvar remained silent for a time before he reiterated his earlier question about the Orb of Chirrim.
“To be honest,” replied Adam slowly, “the knowledge that I have about the Orb is even more vague, since it was given to me at the time of my changing. I know that Vorcan can take me to Esborr, and it’s there that I will find the Orb. As for Chirrim, I am less certain. The orb exists, and perhaps it’s somehow like the Manifex, but I believe only it has the power to free me from my predicament and allow me to defeat Shegrimoth. Although I didn’t understand it at the time, the words inscribed on the plate that I took from the green fire in the labyrinth held the clue.
“It referred to sailing the farthest sea so that my power could prevail over darkness, and that time must be held for the beast within to be quelled. The sea is on Esborr, and it’s there I must go.”
And so on the morning of the fourth day, Adam and Quilvar bid their hosts farewell, and climbing on to Vorcan’s back, they left Ashtirian. Before Adam explained to the dragon how he would travel on to their true destination, he asked him to take them first to Faezil, then across Caregoron to Meriandor and finally on to Kóren. Although it was too early to see much change at the sites of the former cities, it was possible for them to see that people again moved amongst the ruins, and that work had begun on their rebuilding.
After leaving Kóren, they flew across the Middle Sea, south over Skardour and Gholthos to the island of Laanis. Adam knew they would be safely hidden on the island now that Shegrimoth had fled, and he wanted them well rested before they journeyed on the next day. That night as the elf and dragon slept, Adam wandered from the castle, and once beyond its walls, in the bright light of Meerah, he settled himself on the ground and began to chant the words of a spell.
Far away in her tent beside the ruins of Meriandor, the Princess Esperia slept fitfully. Since her family had been reunited and returned to the city, a new sense of purpose had filled them all, and despite the hardships they all faced, work on rebuilding their lives had begun in earnest. Only the princess felt there was something missing in her life, her dreams filled with visions of the man Adam Goodchild, whom she had never met yet to whom she owed so much. As she tossed and turned, the face in her dream became more real, his voice, calling her name, more insistent, until she woke with a start to find him standing before her.
Glowing with a radiance that seemed to fill her tent, his gentle smile and aquamarine eyes held her gaze as he walked towards her.
“Forgive me princess for intruding in this way, but I had to see you before I go. I didn’t mean to wake you; I just wished to take the memory of your smile with me, to ease the burdens I must bear before I may return.”
Esperia could hardly believe her eyes. There he stood before her, the white streak of hair bright against his dark locks, his voice the perfect match for his good looks, and yet he spoke only of leaving. She couldn’t bear it, she wanted to hold him in her arms, smother him with her kisses, yet as she moved towards him, he withdrew, causing her to gasp in anguish.
“No Esperia, please, do not try to touch me, think only of me as you see me now, and remember one day I shall return.”
“But you can’t leave now,” she cried, “we must have time to talk, to be together,” then as if recognizing her forwardness, “besides father wishes to repay you for saving us. Please say you’ll stay, please,” she begged.
For a moment she thought he might agree, but his delay was only due to his need to reinforce the spell that brought him before the princess. “I cannot, I must leave at the first light of day for what you see before you is as I once was, not as I am now. I must seek a token to restore my body, only then may we meet. Ask your brother, he will explain.”
“But Feldric hardly remembers anything before he came to Laanis,” exclaimed Esperia.
“Not Feldric, Caslan. One day your little brother will be a great man, he has the understanding of things barely seen by other men. Speak with Caslan, he will explain, and now I must leave you.”
“But won’t you at least let me touch you,” pleaded Esperia. But as she watched she began to understand, as the image before her started to fade, until in a flash of light, it disappeared.
It was so sudden that for a moment the princess couldn’t believe what she had seen. Had it all been a dream, or had she really seen him? No, she was sure he had been there, yet he couldn’t have vanished without a trace. It had to be magic, that was it, he was using magic. Knowing in her heart he had gone, Esperia’s head fell back on to her pillows as she stared unseeing, tears slowly running down her cheeks. Her heart felt like it would break, yet he had promised to return. Turning her face to her pillow, she wept openly, his name unspoken on her lips, but it didn’t ease the pain.
Tomorrow she would speak to her younger brother, in the hope he might be able to explain.
Exhausted from the effort needed to project his image and thoughts across half the world, Adam returned to his broken body on the island of Laanis, to find Quilvar waiting at his side. He wanted to explain to the elf what had happened, where he had been yet found himself unable to form the words, his emotions in such turmoil from the sight of the beautiful Esperia as he had just left her, that he couldn’t find anything to say.
Sensing something of his mood, Quilvar simply helped him to his feet and led him into the castle. Nothing was said that night, or the next morning as the trio set-off from Laanis on their journey in search of the Orb of Chirrim, the token needed by Adam to restore him to his former self.
For Adam Goodchild, Falgorin would always remain with him, and if circumstances permitted, he would one day return there, the beautiful Princess Esperia still haunting his thoughts. So much had happened since his first journey to that world, many new friendships made, yet so much sorrow to be endured. He had tried to live up to the expectations others had of him, but still felt he had failed them. Certainly Shegrimoth had been driven from its lands, yet the beast still roamed freely, and the damage it had inflicted would take many lifetimes to recover.
Changes had been wrought that would affect the people of the world for the rest of their lives and those who came after them. He too had changed. Changed in ways both obvious and less apparent. It was for this reason that he had to travel with his two companions, Vorcan the dragon, and Quilvar the elf, to find the token that would free him from his burden. Only then might he return to his own world and the life he once knew, yet he knew in his heart even that would not be possible unless he could defeat the Dark One.
As the Guardian of the Crystal and his companions prepared to leave Falgorin far behind them and begin their search for the Orb, a ripple of energy raced across the cloud-like forms of the Mythrali. Vilsagoth, no longer able to shield his brethren from the changes on the face of this once troubled world, faced their inquisition with trepidation. They no longer controlled the Guardian, and even Shegrimoth had slipped from their grasp, vanished to places as yet unknown. Use of the ancient magic had prevented them from knowing the thoughts of Adam Goodchild, and now the Mythrali feared for their safety.
If their former champion had discovered their true intentions, there would be no telling what he might do. The first decision they must make was if they should withdraw from this place to seek new sport in another space-time continuum.
Yet they knew such a move might provoke the Creator, and bring his wrath down upon them for their meddling. Not only had they used Falgorin for their amusement, but they had involved other worlds; the ones they called Esborr and Solkhis, even that of Adam Goodchild. Evidence of their involvement could be found on all three, where they had incited the discord between good and evil to create the scenery against which their game might be played.
The Mythrali deliberated on these matters, their concerns only for themselves, not once for the myriad lives they had ended or ruined by their selfish actions. They suddenly found themselves fallen victim to a new sensation, one that they did not find acceptable. For the first time the energy beings came close to feeling fear, the unknown beckoned, and for once in their long existence they were unable to alter the course of events to their advantage. They reached the only conclusion available to them; that they would have to wait to see what fate held in store for them.
Across the light years of space, far removed from the machinations of the Mythrali, yet aware of all cosmic events, a mind immeasurably superior to that even of the energy beings, stirred and considered the patterns of the fabric of time and space wherein dwelt the worlds touched by the efforts of the Mythrali. Much harm had been done by Vilsagoth and his brethren in pursuit of their games, yet still hope remained. Falgorin’s people would rebuild their world, and with the memories of how following the dark path destroyed it, they would return to the path of light as they had so many centuries before.
The Guardian had dealt the Demon Lord a savage blow, and although not defeated, it would be sometime before he threatened anyone. Yet there was still the matter of the threat that Adam’s turning to the dark path could pose, since it would be far greater than that of Shegrimoth. He would need to be watched and guided now that he wielded the ancient magic, but for the present nothing needed doing to halt him whilst he maintained his determination to break free of its hold.
The token he sought on Esborr, had the power to restore him, yet the path to the Orb was long and tortuous, and would test his resolve to its limits. There would be few who would provide help on this new world, and although Adam still had the Manifex, his transmogrification had much reduced its powers. The ancient magic, although strong demanded much of its user, feeding on their life-force, wasting both body and mind. The Guardian would need be wary of its frequent use, or it would surely destroy him.
Chirrim considered these and all other matters of the Guardian, his thoughts drifting to recall one of the previous keepers of the Manifex now in Adam’s possession. Would its new owner have the strength and courage to succeed where others had failed, only time would tell. Yet time, measured by man in hours and days meant little in the scheme of things as seen by the Creator, for he measured time in aeons. Time enough for the Guardian to seek out the Orb and perhaps restore the patterns of the fabric that had been so disturbed.
Rod lives in West Sussex with his partner and a collection of vintage toy and model cars. A former freelance consultant working primarily in the finance sector specialising in credit/risk management and computerisation, he’s now a fulltime author.
Website https://www.rodbriault.com
Don’t miss the conclusion to the story in
Scrying Glass Worlds - Esborr
Published by Falgorin Publishing
