Choice Page 5

  “Emblematic languages can be like that, sometimes,” Eilidh replied. “Even after the original meaning has faded, the symbolsstill remain.” “Of course, magic isn’t really a language,” Rochelle said, “but still I take your point. Anyway, these original magicologists delved deeper into the mechanisms that governed the Life Arts, and as time went by, this group came up with an interesting proposal.

  People had, for the most part, grown accustomed to the use of familiars, but this radical new concept asked the question: What if mages could have sentient partners instead of trained animal familiars? Think of the advantages. Think of the opportunity to work together, combining theory and practise to further the Life Arts. Specialist mages could devise new, safer, more energy efficient conversion methods to extract more Life per unit of raw magic, reducing the environmental impact even further. The magicologists would become these specialist mages, devoting themselves to dealing with the very essence of magic. Not just converting raw magic, but enhancing, enriching it to make the use of magic sustainable. The Council was intrigued and sought volunteers to work with the magicologists on a trial basis. It worked better than anyone had hoped and the practice became almost universally adopted. This magicology college became recognised as a new Ninth Secret, the Secret of Life: Catalysts.

  Niltsiar was livid. To her and her followers, the mastery of magic was an individual's battle for supremacy over the forces of nature. Catalysts were anathema to everything she stood for. Tensions rose, lines were drawn, sides were chosen. There was only ever one outcome from this: the first major conflict since humans settled in their brave, new world: The Mage Wars.

  * * * * * “I don't think the details of the war are important,” Rochelle opined. “Suffice to say, Niltsiar had become fixated with the acquisition of power for its own sake; a personal quest that ultimately turned into a search for the Great Source, which became known as the Well of Life. Ganieda had always been fascinated by it. From an early age, she loved stories about the Seeker of the Source and the Du y Kharia who, depending on the version, either assisted or hindered them. At first, Ganieda had considered it a harmless fascination, but as Niltsiar grew older, it began to take on a darker, more sinister tone until finally, fascination turned into obsession. She was resolved to find the Well of Life and she was prepared to tear the world apart in the process.

  “Ganieda tried to hide information from her daughter,” Rochelle explained. “To keep her a way from certain versions of the legend, presumably because she thought they were too close to the truth, but it was no use. Everything Ganieda hid, Niltsiar found. There was no barrier she could not break down, no lock she couldn’t pick, no security she could not breach.”

  “However,” Rochelle continued, “her obsession was also a distraction.” When she took to the battlefield, ther e was no stopping her, but the war couldn’t sustain her interest. Given the slightest hint of her true goal, she would drop everything to pursue it. She would abandon a winning position in a major battle just to chase a rumour or a fresh idea, often plunging her armies into chaos as they lost her support.

  As her direct contributions grew ever more infrequent, the Council mages gained the upper hand and pressed home their advantage. Support for Niltsiar fell away until she stood alone, save for the dark elves who worshipped her as a demi-god.

  “That ties in with what Phaer told Bunny about his people.” Rochelle broke off for a moment to shake her head in wonder. “I still can't believe that: Phaer, a dark elf.” “ Halfdark elf,” Eilidh corrected, defensively. “None of us can choose our family. Phaer is a valuable member of our group. He's a friend,” she insisted, “and we shouldn't think any less of him because of where he comes from!”

  “Of course not,” Rochelle smoothed. “I wasn't suggesting we should. I was just saying it's incredible; I didn't mean anything by it.” “I’m sorry,” Eilidh apologised. “Of course you didn’t. It’s just a bit of a sensitive subject for me.” Then, catching herself, she quickly changed tack. “I guess I’m just worried about him. Anyway, you were saying?” She prompted.

  “Well, the dark elves stood with Niltsiar until the bitter end, in an admirable, if misplaced, show of loyalty.”

  “Fanatics are often the most loyal followers,” Eilidh agreed. “If you consider blind faith and unthinking obedience to be loyalty.” “That would be an interesting discussion,” Rochelle considered. Then quickly thought better of it and added, “For another time, obviously. Now, the war ended with a confrontation between Merlyn and Niltsiar, father and daughter. Here, Niltsiar presented Merlyn with a dilemma. Only with his full power would he have a chance to defeat her. Moreover, it would require the direct use of raw magic: the very thing Merlyn had outlawed. Niltsiar would no doubt resist with her full power and that much combined, concentrated raw magic would have devastated the world and its inhabitants.”

  Eilidh nodded in appreciat ion of Niltsiar's trap. “Do nothing and Niltsiar wins. Act to destroy her and the world gets roasted. And even if enough people somehow survive, Merlyn makes himself a hypocrite by using raw magic illegally, and the Council would lose the respect of the people. The result: anarchy, war and death.”

  “Precisely. To say nothing of the fact that Merlyn was faced with the prospect of killing his own daughter. Neat, isn't it?” Rochelle asked. “It's horrific, but on a purely intellectual level, you can't help but admire it.”

  “Niltsiar is clever,” Eilidh conceded. “To assume our enemy is stupid would invite disaster. We can't afford to underestimate her.” “Absolutely. Still, Merlyn was pretty smart himself. When faced with two options, neither of which was acceptable, he chose the third path. He leaped at her, using his physical strength rather than magic to keep them together while he transported them both away from Majaos.”

  “Of course, he’d done it before,” the Catalyst realised. “Magical transference to another world– that’s how he came here in the first place.”

  Rochelle nodded. “The difference being that the magic here was powerful enough for him to do alone what had taken hundreds of mages to accomplish in the old world."

  "Merlyn would have got on well with my old teacher," Eilidh said, appreciatively. "He always told me to focus on the goal not the task, the solution not the problem."

  Rochelle understood. "The problem was nobody could defeat Niltsiar. Fortunately, that was not a necessary task to achieve the true goal."

  "To stop her destroying the world," Eilidh agreed. "So his entirely rational solution was to take her away from this world." “With both of them gone,” the gnome continued, “the war lost momentum. Both sides retreated and tried to pick up the pieces. Artemis had many arguments with the Council before walking away to take matters into his own hands. Accounts are sketchy from there; he seems to crop up all over the continent, never staying in one place for long. There's even a reference to him visiting an outlying college of necromancy that sounds a lot like where the Wise One sent you.”

  “Interesting,” Eilidh considered. “A college of necromancy, Secret of Spirit. Yes, that would tie in very nicely.”

  “Eventually,” Rochelle continued, “Artemis somehow takes magic away from the dark elves, but after that he just disappears.” “And Ganieda?” Eilidh prompted. “That's a strange one. The books agree that she was responsible for restoring order to the Council and hiding all references to Ancient magic, sealing them in the secret shrouded Tenth Tower in the Great Library.”

  “Hence the Nine-and-aHalf Towers,” Eilidh concluded. Eilidh had thought about this and decided it was a sound long term strategy. Sealing away the books Rochelle now possessed ensured that the knowledge would be available when it was needed: when Niltsiar returned. But how could they know when that would be? No doubt many people would point to prophecy, but Eilidh dismissed that in favour of a more rational explanation: the attack on the shield around Merlyon. Foreknowledge was not required. After all, nobody else had that kind of power. Penetration of Merlyon's shield would allow pene
tration of the Tenth Tower by those who were charged with stopping her. Ganieda's strategy had given them the tools and weapons to fight Niltsiar. Now they just needed to work out how to use them.

  "Where Ganieda has been in the meantime, and where she is now, is a complete mystery,” the gnome finished.

  “It's puzzling,” Eilidh agreed, “but ultimately irrelevant. As is all of it, quite honestly. Irrelevant and useless.”

  “Irrelevant? Useless?” Rochelle leaped up, anger written all over her face.

  Eilidh persisted. “It's a fascinating picture of Ancient history,” she conceded, “but that's all it is, isn't it? Ancient history.” “It's a summary of what I've pieced together from a large amount of information in these references,” Rochelle argued. “Many of which are written in different languages and obsolete dialects. Frankly, it's not easy and a little appreciation would be nice! This Ancient history seemed like a good place to start, and it certainly explains a few things, if you ask me!”

  “Oh, absolutely,” the Catalyst concurred, holding up her hands to ward off the verbal blows. “I'm not criticising. I firmly believe that all knowledge is of intrinsic value, and if we can get through this, I'll be fighting you for a chance to look through these texts myself. But as for right now,” she placed her hands gently on the gnome's shoulders, “does any of this history actually help us?”

  “Practical as ever, eh, Eilidh?” Rochelle grumbled, moving away. Calming down, she cut off any response with a wave of a hand. “No, no, I don't mean anything by that. You're right. We need a way to stop Niltsiar, but short of a chapter entitled `How to Stop Niltsiar`, it's...Well, the proverbial needle and haystack don't do this justice. At least you know for a fact that the needle is in that haystack somewhere. There's no such guarantee that we'll find what we need in these few Ancient references, fascinating though they are.”

  “And so you needed a place to start, and you started with history, with how all this began. A perfectly rational and reasonable place to start, given the lack of other information. As I say, I'm not criticising. If my words or my tone gave you that impression, I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated, stressed out. Before this, I spent most of my time alone with my books. Believe me, I'd much rather sit down where you are and study, but I can't make that choice. The whole world is in danger and as much as I hate it, I am the only one standing in her way. I'm terrified I'm going to get trampled at any moment, but I chose to say `Yes` to Master Gamaliel and I have a commitment to see this through to the end. So yes, I'm frustrated, stressed out, terrified and, to be honest, I've never been much good with people. I've never been a people person. Even my own disposition aside, there was never much of a chance when people never wanted to be anywhere near me.”

  “Really? Why was that?” Rochelle wondered. Eilidh looked shocked for a moment. That was the second time she had almost revealed too much of herself. She recovered, dismissing it. “Long story. Doesn't matter. The point is, I appreciate what you've been doing. Really. But now we need to focus. Thanks to the Wise One, we now have a starting point.”

  “Do we?” Rochelle questioned.

  “Yes. We need to learn how to find the Well of Life, which is apparently to be found at the-”

  “-Central Convergence of all Magical Nodes,” Rochelle completed. “Yes, I know what you said, but what does it mean?”

  “I don't know. The Wise One couldn't or wouldn’t tell me.” “Right. So again, unless there's a section marked, `Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About the Central Convergence of all Magical Nodes But Were Afraid To Ask`, are we any better off now than we were before?”

  Eilidh was going to snap something back in response to the gnome's sarcasm, but stopped herself, considered for a moment, and replied. “I'm afraid to admit you've got a point.”

  Chapter 4

  “OK,” Rochelle breathed, returning to her chair. “Let's try and think this through from the beginning. The Central Convergence of all Magical Nodes. Convergence is a coming together, right?”

  Eilidh decided it was a rhetorical question. “Central Convergence. That suggests a bunch of things around the outside coming together in the middle. In fact, all of them come together, apparently. Mind you, that doesn't necessarily mean the centre literally. The City Centre of Avidon wasn't in the geographical centre. It was in the North East quarter.”

  “The Wise One did say it wasn't a geographical location, so you're probably right that `centre` is just an expression.”

  “An expression that implies a high level of importance compared to the things around it,” Rochelle mused.

  “Which would be reasonable if all these `Magical Nodes` whatever they might be, converge at that point.”

  “Hmmm, yes, that's the tricky part. Well, we know about magic on Majaos - and considerably better than we did anhour ago.”

  Eilidh let that barb pass.

  “So we are left with one word: `Nodes`. The plural of `node`. Eilidh, what exactly is a node?” Rochelle asked.

  “Oooh, erm...” Eilidh considered. “...It's not a word I see much, but it's kind of...well...er...”

  “Just what I was thinking,” Rochelle agreed. “It's one of those words where we kind of know what it means, at least vaguely, but we're hard pressed to define it to someone else.”

  “True.”

  Rochelle stood up and headed for the door. “Come on,” she said. “We need another reference and for that, we'll need to find the library.”

  Eilidh caught onto Rochelle's train of thought and followed.“Agreed.”

  The gnome stopped dead in her tracks, almost making Eilidh bump into her.

  “You know, I haven't had a chance to look any idea where it is?” “That way somewhere, I think.” Eilidh pointed down the corridor to their left. They set off together, as Eilidh continued, “I remember from the first time I came to Shakaran Castle. I made a point of asking. Never got around to going there, but it seemed to me that the library might be a little less creepy than everywhere else in this building that was created without magic.”

  The gnome wrinkled up her nose in mild distaste. “It is odd, isn't it? According to Prince Garald, his ancestors thought that any other magical city would seem second rate compared to Merlyon and they wanted Shakaran to be just as proud and distinctive in its own way. So they hit on the frankly ridiculous notion of building without any magic at all, as the antithesis of Merlyon.”

  “It may be ridiculous,” Eilidh conceded, “but it kind of works, once you get used to it.” “By the way,” Rochelle spoke up, trying to make conversation as they walked. “The whole people skills thing you were talking about. You do OK.” Eilidh looked sceptical. “I mean it,” insisted the gnomish druidess. “You've got a bunch of us following you, by our own free choice,” she pointed out, “so you can't be all that disagreeable.”

  “I suppose,” Eilidh said, non-committally.

  There was a pausebefore Rochelle spoke again. “Did you figure out which key it was?”

  “Which key?” Eilidh asked, not understanding.

  “K-E-Y or K-IJ,” Rochelle spelled out. “Which did the Wise One intend you to get?”

  Eilidh shook her head. “Wrong question. You’re doing what I did. It doesn’t matter what he intended, only that I made my own choices and accepted the consequences. That was the real key, I think.”

  Rochelle nodded, thoughtfully. “To see that there’s usually more than one solution to a problem. More than one interpretation. If we are to stop Niltsiar, the key must lie in our own choices.”

  “And our choices flow from knowledge, not simple instructions from others,” Eilidh said. “If we’re going to stop Niltsiar, we’re going to have to see a solution that no-one has seen before. As you said, Rochelle, there can be no simple instruction written in a book. Nobody can tell us how to stop Niltsiar for one very simple reason…”

  “…Because no-one ever has,” Rochelle concluded.

  There followed another pause. Eilidh is really not an easy p
erson to engage in conversation, Rochelle realised, but she wasn’t ready to give up, so she tried again.

  “I'm curious about that philosophical discussion you had with the Wise One, about hope. It almost sounded as if you think hope is somehow a problem.” Eilidh shook her head. “It's not hope itself that's the problem. To hope for a better world for your children is natural and healthy. To say `I hope my friend is OK` is a rational expression of concern for a person whose life you value. The trouble is that those hopes can become `real` in your mind and you start to expect the world out there to match the world in your head. But reality is reality. Things either are or they are not and hope never changed one into the other. When I asked the Wise One if the situation was hopeless, I was effectively saying I expected my hopes to affect the reality of the situation. I mean, think about it, what answer was he supposed to give? If he tells me he thinks it is hopeless, does that mean I give up? No, it just means he can't see a solution. Doesn't mean there isn't one. On the other hand, if he tells me it's not hopeless, how does his hope help me? What we need are real answers to our real problems. Hopes, wishes and faith won't help us. Thinking, using our minds to solve our problems is the only rational way we can deal with life.”

  “Hoping for a better world for your children won't achieve anything if you do nothing to bring that about," Rochelle said. "Hoping for a thing doesn't make it happen. So when the Wise One told you to abandon hope, he didn't mean that literally. He was just telling you to not let beliefs in things that aren't real cloud your reasoning.”

  “That's right.” “Y'know,” Rochelle remarked as they reached the library door. “I'm glad most of our group has made it back together - plus or minus a few - but I can't help worrying about our absent friends. Poor Calandra - someone who was born to fly now can't move. Loric is off on some dragon business of his own, though I'm sure healing Callie is very much part of that. Then there's Phaer who's got himself embroiled in the whole affair in some way.”