Seven Sorcerers(99)
The boy swims to the lakeshore and pulls himself from the waters. His arms and legs are lean, strong, the color of newly minted bronze. His eyes are the fierce blue of a cloudless sky. The water streams from his limbs as he approaches.
“I know you,” he says. It is the voice of Vireon’s younger self. The soul is ageless, and while memory and experience sculpt its nature, it has no single true shape.
“And I know you,” I say, smiling as I would at any child. “I am the Shaper.”
“Iardu,” he says, running a hand through his damp hair. He smiles. “You are the friend of my father.”
“You are Vireon, Son of Vod. Do you remember this too?”
The soul disguised as a boy nods. “I had a brother, but I lost him. He is on the Last Long Hunt now, with my father.” He points toward the deep woodland that goes on forever. The depths of his boundless imagination.
“Tadarus was your brother,” I remind him. “Would you remember more of him? More of your father and the world beyond this vale?”
The boy is uncertain. He shivers, arms wrapped about himself. Yet he nods again.
I remove the silver chain that supports the Flame of Intellect and offer it to him. Save for a loincloth of woven leaves and reeds, he wears nothing. “Wear this,” I tell him.
He takes the chain from me, unafraid of the dancing flame. He does not think that it will burn him. Instinct tells him it is no earthly fire. He places the chain around his neck, and the blue flame leaps upon his narrow chest.
His eyes grow large, his head falling backward, mouth slack. He gazes past the high canopy of leaves toward the glimmering starfields. For a brief moment (there is no real time here) the blue flame engulfs him, then it recedes back to his chest.
No longer is he a boy, but the full-grown image of Vireon. A black crown set with many sapphires rests upon his head. The pain and wonder of memory shines in his eyes.
“What do you remember?” I ask him.
“Everything,” he says. He sits beside me upon the pillar and takes the iron crown from his head. He stares at it, as a man might examine a discovery that may or may not have some value. “A great beast swallowed me. It spoke to me with seven different voices that were the same voice.”
“What did it tell you?”
“That I was not the King of Storms,” says Vireon. “That I could not end its long curse.”
“And what was your reply?”
His blue eyes pierce me.
“That I am the Son of Vod,” he says. “That I carry his blood.”
“What else?” I ask.
“I called out the name of my father. I called on his power. I rose up… I crushed the beast. I ended the curse.”
“You awakened the power that lies within. Yet there is so much more.”
Vireon’s eyes scan the deep forest, the crystal lake, the iron crown in his hands.
“None of this is real,” he says.
“Oh, it is,” I say. “And it isn’t.”
He smiles at me, yet his handsome face retains its sorrow. “You always were one for speaking in riddles.”
“This place is the seat of your soul. Your body is dying.”
“I stood against Zyung and lost,” he says. “You were not there to aid me.”
“I was… delayed. I ask your forgiveness. Yet I am here now to show you the secrets of your inheritance. To help you finish the journey you began in the Khyrein Marshes.”
“Why?” His face turns to me, and for a moment I see the face of Vod.
“Because otherwise you will die. The world still needs you. Your enemies march upon Uurz. After that they will take Udurum.”
“No, I mean why do you care? You are immortal. The living world passes like a dream. Lives are but waves upon the sea, rising and falling, repeating an endless cycle of conflict and pain.”
“There is also joy and love in this cycle,” I say. “You cannot have these things without their opposites. Have you lost your thirst for life, Vireon?”
He breathes deep the fragrant air of bodiless harmony.
“By inheritance you mean Vod’s sorcery.”
“Simply another word for knowledge.”
“You wish me to be Vod. Yet I am only Vireon.”
“I wish you to be yourself. Giant-King, Son of Vod, Brother, Husband, Hunter, Slayer, Lord of Giants, Ruler of Udurum. Your father wished these things for you as well.”
“No, he did not,” says Vireon. “My father wanted Tadarus to be King after him. I wanted to roam the wild, to be free of walls and thrones and towers. I never wanted the crown of Udurum, and I never wanted this second crown either.” He lifts the ring of iron and sapphire. “I am King of two nations, but it has brought me no happiness.”