Brian Kittrell - The Immortals of Myrdwyer

A fire blazed in the middle of the room past a long dining table and its single chair. Crouching to examine the fire closer, Laedron surmised that the flames burned without wood or any other kind of fuel. The fire rose from thin shards of crystal in the bottom of the stone pit, and he would have reached in to grab one if it hadn’t been putting off heat. He rose and walked to the far wall when he caught a sparkle of light in the corner of his eye.

Upon a hardwood shelf sat a number of knickknacks-statuettes shaped from gems, horns, and fangs from beasts, and other such curios. The collection reminded him of Ismerelda’s in Westmarch. Is this some common trait amongst immortals? The collection of bits of one’s life to be put on display? His eye twitched. Why would he display these things if he’s been here alone this whole time? For his pleasure? Reminders of his actions? He knew of the Uxidin’s inability to remember more than the span of the last fifty years or so with much accuracy, and he attributed the existence of the shelf to that need. Kareth needed the trinkets in order to keep his past deeds fresh in his memory.

The room contained maps of places that hadn’t existed for hundreds of years. Odd clothing hung on a rack in the corner. Whereas the modern peoples of Bloodmyr donned shirts and pants, or dresses for women, the clothes resembled coatdresses that were almost effeminate. Kareth must have lived in a time when either sex could dress in robes of rich colors and floral patterns.

“I can just imagine that fiend dressing in women’s clothing and dancing around his campfire.” Marac snatched one of the gowns and tossed it to the ground. “Does his madness go on without limit?”

“No need to throw it on the ground, Marac.” Brice picked up the robe. “Perhaps Valyrie would like-”

“To wear the clothes of an insane man who tried to kill us? No, thanks.”

“He came from a different time, Marac. These were probably standard fare in ancient Uxidia.”

“No matter,” Marac said. “Have you found what you need here?”

“Not yet.” Laedron walked to the next bookshelf and browsed the contents. “I’d be interested to read most of these works, but the tome isn’t here.”

Brice held up a red block that he’d picked up from the dining table. “Wow, look at this, Lae!”

Joining him at the end of the table, Laedron stared in awe at the contraption, then realized what it was. “Creator…”

“This is it, isn’t it?” Brice grinned and bounced with excitement. “I found it. You hear that, Marac? I’m the one who found it.”

“That’s nice, Thimble.” Marac gave him a blank stare, then approached. “What is it, Lae?”

“A book fashioned from sheets of ruby, if appearances don’t deceive.” Laedron examined every side of the device, then found what he thought to be the front cover. “If it is a book, it’s untitled and nondescript.”

“Much like the novel I had when you first met me, yes?” Valyrie asked, gazing at the ruby book as if it were a gleaming pile of treasure. “Not all books have names.”

“One as important as this? You’d think they’d stamp it on the cover,” Marac said.

“It would seem that some of the most valuable things in the world come without labels.” Laedron ran his finger along a clasp also made entirely of ruby. He ignored his niggling conscience and the words he’d told Callista in Nessadene. I would be mad to return this book without peering inside first. Such an opportunity will never come again. Not for power, not for sinister reasons… curiosity. To see what the Uxidin need with it. That’s all. “It would seem that this mechanism opens it.”

“We weren’t told to open it, Lae.” Stepping forward, Marac put his hand on the book. “We were told to return it to Harridan, nothing more. I would rather rid it from the world, but I doubt you would entertain that notion.”

“Do the contents frighten you, Marac? A quick peek couldn’t hurt anything.”

“I agree with him, Lae,” Valyrie said. “What would be gained by reading these pages?”

What could be gained? Surely, that cannot be a serious question. Partaking of the knowledge of the deepest magic? The spells practiced by the ancient mages? “Everything, Val. The secrets of creation itself lie within these pages. All manner of magic knowledge, all right here.” He glanced at Brice to see if he could detect any agreement or dissent, but Brice merely stared at them. Never mind him. He’s probably daydreaming of feasts and riches.

“I don’t think you’re following me.” She sighed. “If you were to read the inscriptions contained in that book, you might never be the same again.”

“Of course I would be the same. It’s only a book.”

“A book filled with secrets, Lae.” Marac pointed at the ruby tome. “Secrets that could change the world, for better or, more likely, worse. Tavin taught you the secret to create magical weapons, and that could be profound enough to transform our whole society. Just imagine some of the things in there.”

Laedron licked his lips, then fiddled with the clasp. “I know. I can’t wait-”

“No, Lae,” Valyrie said.

“No? Why should the Uxidin be the only ones to have this knowledge? What merits them over anyone else to possess the power of this, The Bloodmyr Tome?”

“No one said they should have it. We’re merely saying that we should not .” Marac took hold of the book. “We’ll return it to Harridan, then be on our way. We could be home in a few weeks. A few short weeks, and we can put all of this behind us.”

Brice grabbed the tome and helped Marac tug. “Yes, we’ll put it behind us. We’ll forget all about it.”

“Can we?” Laedron asked, keeping a firm grasp on his end of the tome. “That may be so, but I intend to open this book, to learn of the magic on those pages, to know the secrets they’ve been hiding all this time.”

“If you do that, you won’t have me at your side.” Valyrie folded her arms, then stared at the ground, as if unable to look Laedron in his eyes. “I’d rather live with a man willing to accept that some things are beyond knowing than one who must know everything despite the damage it could cause. Your curiosity is clouding your better judgment.”

“You can’t tell me you’re not curious, Val. You wanted to learn magic. Now you would deny your desire to know more? And condemn mine?”

“That was different. Learning a few spells and a little about magic is nothing compared to what you intend to do here. If the stories are to be believed, that book contains awesome magic, spectacular feats of conjuration, some unseen since the very creation of the world. You propose to know those spells, and that would make you something else, something to be feared instead of loved.”

“You could not love me if I became a powerful sorcerer?”

“Not by that,” she said, gesturing at the ruby book. “Should you become powerful, it should be by long years of study and practice, not a few spare moments with the greatest of all spellbooks.”

“She’s right, Lae. If you open that book, you’ll start along a road I cannot follow.” Marac stood next to Valyrie, apparently resolute in his position. “You won’t be the same. You can’t be the same after that.”

“You shouldn’t. I’ll stand at your side in all things, but not on this.” Brice walked over to stand by Marac’s side.

“I think you three are taking this far beyond what it really is. Merely a glance, a tiny peek. Nothing more.”

“A glance is too much. Don’t you see?” Marac asked. “Knowing this thing exists in the first place is more than we should ever have known. The best thing we can do is deliver it, then forget we know anything about it.”