David Farland - The Sum of All Men

Immediately, Gaborn froze in terror, wondering what this manifestation might mean. He looked to Binnesman; the wizard had fallen back in astonishment.

The creature of dust stared down at Gaborn, a slight mocking disdain on its face. In the gathering shadows of the wood, it might have seemed human to a casual observer, but for its lack of color. Every eyelash, every fingernail, every feature and fiber of its clothing seemed perfectly formed.

Then the earth spoke.

The creature of dust did not move its mouth. Instead the words seemed to come from all around. Its voice was the sound of wind sighing through a meadow or hissing through lonely peaks. The groan of rocks moving through a stream, or tumbling downhill.

Gaborn understood none of it, though he recognized it as speech. Beside Gaborn, Binnesman listened intently, and interpreted, “He says to you, Gaborn, 'You would speak an oath to me, O son of a man?' ”

The strange sounds continued, and Binnesman thought a moment before he added. " 'You say you love the land. But would you honor your vows to me, even if I wore the face of an enemy?' ”

Gaborn looked to Binnesman for answer, and the wizard nodded, urging Gaborn to speak to the earth directly.

Gaborn had never seen anything like this creature, had never heard tales of it. Earth had come to him, choosing a form that Gaborn could see and comprehend. Some men claimed to look into fire and see the face of the Power behind it, but it often seemed to Gaborn that fire was the most approachable of elements, while air was the least. Gaborn had never heard of the earth manifesting itself in this way.

“I do love the land,” Gaborn said at last.

The strange clamor of faraway noises rose again. " 'How can you love what you cannot comprehend?' ” Binnesman interpreted.

“I love what I do comprehend, and suppose I would love the rest,” Gaborn tried to answer truthfully.

Earth smiled, mocking. Boulders rumbled. Binnesman said, " 'Someday you shall comprehend me, when your body mingles with mine. Do you fear that day?' ”

Death. Earth wanted to know if he feared death.

“Yes.” Gaborn dared not lie.

“Then you cannot love me fully,” Earth whispered. “Will you aid my cause despite this?”

Raj Ahten. The thing looked so much like Raj Ahten. Gaborn knew what Earth desired of him. Something more than embracing life. Something more than serving man. To embrace death and decay and the totality that was Earth.

A strangeness showed in Earth's dark face, emotions not human. Gaborn looked into those eyes, and images came to mind: a pasture far south of Bannisferre where white stones protruded from the green grass like teeth; the scenic purple mountains of Alcair as seen in the distance south of home. But there was more—vast crevasses and caverns and canyons deep beneath the ground, places he had never seen. Many-colored soils and dark rock by the shapeless ton, so deep within the earth that no man could hold it all, no man could begin to comprehend it. Gems and mud and leaves rotting on the forest floor among the bones of men. Smells of sulfur and ash and grass and blood. Rivers thrumming and tumbling in the dark places of the world, and endless seas lying over the face of the earth like sweet tears.

You cannot know me, Earth was saying. You cannot comprehend me. You see only surfaces. Though you want me as an ally, I must also be your enemy.

Painfully, Gaborn considered each word of the vow, wondering if he could keep it.

“Why would you want me to take this vow?” Gaborn asked. “What does it mean, to never harm the earth? What does it mean, to preserve a seed of humanity?”

This time, Binnesman did not hesitate when he translated Earth's answer, which came more as a sighing of wind than a grumble. “You will not seek to thwart me,” Earth said, leaning back casually against the bole of one dark tree that seemed to cup him like a hand. “You will seek to learn my will, discern how best to serve the earth.”

“In what capacity?” Gaborn asked, seeking to know more precisely what the earth wanted.

Clamorous noises. Binnesman frowned thoughtfully as he sought for words... "As you cannot comprehend me,” Earth said, “I cannot comprehend you. Yet this much I know: You love your people, seek their welfare. You seek to save men.”

“There was a time when Fire loved the earth, and the sun drew nearer to me. That time is no more. So in this dark season, I must call others to champion my cause. I ask you to save a remnant of mankind.”

Gaborn's heart pounded. “Save them from what?”

Hissing rose through the woods. “Fire. All of nature is out of balance. That which you call 'the First Power' has long been withdrawn, but now it will waken and sweep over the world, bringing death. It is in Fire's nature to seek constantly to consume and grow. It shall destroy much.”

Gaborn knew enough of wizardry to know that while all Powers combined to create life, the alliance of Powers was uneasy, and different Powers favored different kinds of life. Air loved birds, while Water loved fishes, and Earth loved plants and the things that crept upon its face. Fire seemed to love only serpents, and creatures of the netherworld. Earth and Water were powers of stability. Air and Fire were unstable. Earth itself was a protector, and combined with Water to protect nature.

Immediately, Gaborn reasoned, I am a Runelord, Prince of Mystarria—a nation strong in water magics—who loves the land. So earth seeks to make an ally of me.

“You seek my service,” Gaborn said, “and only a fool would refuse to consider your offer. You want me to save someone, and this I would do gladly. But what do you offer in return?”

Boulders rumbled, and nearby the ground vented steam as Earth laughed. Yet Binnesman did not smile as he translated, " 'I ask but one thing of you, to save a seed of humanity. If you succeed, the deed itself shall be your reward. You shall save those you deem worthy to live.' ”

“If—I succeed?” Gaborn asked.

Lonely wind hissing through trees. “Once there were toth upon the land. Once there were duskins...At the end of this dark time, mankind, too, may become only a memory.”

Gaborn felt his heart nearly freeze. He'd imagined that the earth wanted him to help save the people of Heredon from Raj Ahten. But something more dangerous than a war between two nations was at hand—something more devastating.

“What is going to happen?” Gaborn asked.

The wind hissed as Earth spoke softly. Binnesman merely frowned for a long time, then answered for himself. “Gaborn, I can't tell you what the earth is saying. It is too complex to interpret. The earth does not itself know the full answer. Only the Time Lords see the future, but even for the earth, the answer is unclear. Earth senses wide destruction. The skies will be black with smoke, and everything will burn. The sun at high noon will shine dimly, as red as blood. Seas will be choked with ash...I—it's too much for me to untangle, too much to answer.”

The wizard fell silent then, and Gaborn saw that his face was ashen, as if trying to make sense of Earth's words was a great labor, even for him. Or perhaps the things he'd learned terrified Binnesman to the core, so that he could speak no longer.

Gaborn did not understand how to keep the vow. Yet no matter what it required, he had to take it. He fell to his knees and vowed, “I, Gaborn Val Orden, swear to you that I will never harm the earth, that I dedicate myself to the preservation of a seed of humanity in the dark season to come.”

Gaborn's whole body trembled. The man of dust leaned over until its helm almost touched Gaborn's forehead. The sound of wind whispered in Gaborn's ears, and the earth rumbled ominously. Binnesman croaked the words: " 'I shall hold you to your word, though in time you curse me.' ”