Simon Hawke - The Outcast

In my youth, I knew such a king. His name was Alaron, and he was the very last of his line.

“Alaron had no less than a dozen wives, yet he could sire a son with none of them. He had been cursed by Rajaat, the most powerful of the defilers, with a spell that made him sterile. Rajaat sought to destroy the kingdom of the elvish tribes, for they were a threat to him. He worked first to destroy the royal line of succession, then to sow discord among the tribes about whose right it would be to sit upon the throne when Alaron’s rule had passed. To enlist the aid of elves among those tribes, he used bribery when he could, and magic when bribery would fail, and in the end, he succeeded in driving the tribes apart into warring factions. The kingdom fell, and Alaron was forced to flee into the forest, where he expired of his wounds. I found him, as I found you, half-dead. Unlike you, however, he was beyond my help. Before he died, he gave his sword to me, a sword famed among the elvish tribes as Galdra, the sword of kings. He knew it would not serve him anymore, for he had lost his faith, and he was dying.

“He bid me take it,” she said, “and keep it safe, so that it should never fall into the hands of the defilers, for the blade would shatter if they tried to use it. Alaron did not want the symbol of the elvish royal house destroyed. ‘ I was cursed never to have a son,’ he said, ‘and a proud tradition dies with me. The elves are now a beaten people. Take Galdra and keep it safe. My life span is but the blink of an eye to a pyreen such as you. Perhaps, someday, you will succeed where I have failed, and find an elf worthy of this blade. If not, then hide it from the defilers. I can at least deny them this.’ And with those words, he died.

“Alaron always was my friend,” Lyra continued, “and I could not deny him. I hid the blade, and as the years passed, I moved it from one place of concealment to another, never being satisfied that it was truly safe. Then, one day, after many years had passed, I met a young villichi priestess on a pilgrimage, and that priestess was Varanna. I had been surprised and injured by«a young dragon, which mistook me for a human, and I was too weak to properly heal myself. Varanna stopped to help me, and I sensed the goodness in her heart, and saw that fate prepared her to be high mistress. I realized that nowhere would the blade I had been entrusted with be kept as safe as in the villichi convent. I gave it to Varanna, and told her what it was, and what it represented, and she has kept it all these years.”

Sorak glanced down at the sword, then looked up at Lyra with a puzzled expression. “But... why, then, did she give it to me?”

“Because she knew I would approve,” said Lyra, with a smile. “Varanna understood why I had brought you to her. Ten years ago, when I heard your call, I felt your power, and when I found you, I sensed what you were... and what you could be. The sword has been a special bond between Varanna and me, but it was held only in trust.”

“For me?” said Sorak, gazing at her with a puzzled expression. “But I am not of the elvish royal house. If the line died out with Alaron, as you say, then I could not possibly have any claim to this blade. And I am not even a full-blooded elf.”

“Nevertheless, there is elvish blood flowing through your veins,” said Lyra, “and Alaron knew that Galdra could never pass to his successor, for the line would die with him. His only hope was that someone worthy of the blade would come along one day. Varanna believed that you were worthy, and I perceive the potential that you have within you, but you have yet to prove that worth. Not to me and not to Varanna, but to yourself and to the blade. You seek answers to the question of your origin. I cannot provide those answers, but I know who can. Only the preserver magic of the Sage would be strong enough and pure enough to serve your needs. But first you shall have to seek him out, and in your quest for him, you shall serve his needs, and mine, and that of your forebears.”

“How?”

“By aligning yourself with him against all defilers,” said Lyra. “The Sage is very powerful, but he has many enemies, which is why he must remain hidden in seclusion. The path of metamorphosis into an avangion is long and arduous, and it entails much pain and suffering. Each stage of the transformation requires rituals that take years to perform. Distraction is the enemy of every mage, and there is no distraction quite so profound as being sought after by those who wish to take your life. The Sage is the most hunted wizard in all of Athas, for he represents a threat to the power of the defilers. And yet he is the most vulnerable, for if he were to direct his energies against the defilers, it would interfere with the transformation process. Remember, also, that defilers can accumulate their power much more quickly than those who follow the Path of the Preserver, and while the Sage works to complete his metamorphosis, the powers aligned against him grow ever stronger.”

“I still do not see my part in all this,” Sorak said. “Your part has already been written by the fates, Sorak,” Lyra replied. “You were raised by the villichi in the Way of the Druid, to follow the Path of the Preserver. In itself, that places you in opposition to defilers. In searching for the Sage, you must also align yourself with him, for that is the only way that you shall ever find him. But be warned that it shall not be an easy quest, and it will be dangerous. Those who seek to find the Sage and kill him will also seek you, just as they seek the members of the Veiled Alliance and all preservers who are aligned against them.”

“So then my part is to support the Veiled Alliance and all those who take a stand against defiler magic while I seek this hermit wizard,” Sorak said. “You are saying that to find him, I must somehow make him aware of the fact that I am seeking him, and prove myself to him by deeds against his enemies.”

Lyra nodded. “Remember that, for many years now, all the sorcerer-kings, their templars, and their minions have been searching for the Sage, and they have employed both magic and subterfuge in their efforts.”

“So proving myself will not be easy,” Sorak said with a nod. “I understand.”

“There is, of course, another choice,” said Lyra. “It all depends on you. Your life is yours to direct in the manner that you will. Perhaps there is a way that you may find the answers to your questions without needing to consult the Sage. Or, perhaps, knowing what you risk, you may no longer feel those questions bear so much importance. When you leave here, you may choose to follow a different path and take no part in the conflict for the soul of Athas. That is entirely up to you, and if you should make that choice, I shall respect it. All you need do in that event is return Galdra to me, and you will be free to do whatever you desire.”

Sorak picked up the sword, holding the scabbard across his palms as he gazed down at it. “No,” he said. “If not for you, I would have died out in the desert. And if not for Mistress Varanna, I would have had no home these past ten years. And if not for these questions that have plagued me all my life, I would have possessed, perhaps, some peace of mind. I shall keep the blade, and undertake this quest.” He smiled, wryly. “Besides, I have nothing better to do.”

Lyra chuckled. “I never doubted for a moment that you would answer that way.”

“But how should I begin my search?” asked Sorak. “Make your way to the nearest city,” Lyra said. “That would be Tyr, which lies to the west in a valley at the foothills of these mountains. When you reach the lower elevations, you will find trails leading to the city, and you shall be able to see it from the ridge. The city of Tyr was once ruled by the sorcerer-king, Kalak, but he was killed and his chief templar, Tithian, attempted to succeed him. Now, Tithian has disappeared, and in his place, Tyr is being ruled by a Council of Advisors, whose leaders have the support of the people. It is, however, an unstable government, and the defilers who are still in Tyr will surely seek to topple it Also, word has reached the other cities that Tyr no longer has a sorcerer-king, and that Tithian and the rest of Kalak’s templars are no longer in power. Tyr may be ripe for an invasion. It will be a place of intrigue, with many factions vying to gain power, and new arrivals will be considered with suspicion. Be wary. Remember, you have led a sheltered life among the villichi sisters. A city such as Tyr offers numerous temptations and is rife with criminals of all description. Trust no one, look for hidden motives behind every friendly offer. And above all, watch your back.”