Brian Kittrell - The Immortals of Myrdwyer

“Perhaps some basic instructions, then?” Valyrie gazed at the pair of Trappers. “Tell them not to leave this place?”

“That’s a start. Any other ideas?”

“Don’t hurt other people? Would that work?”

Laedron considered the question, then imagined the deeper implications. If I tell them not to hurt others, would they stand idly by and be destroyed by someone coming to steal their riches? What if someone else happens upon them and tries to enslave them? “Trapper, this is your home.”

“Of course it is, Master. It is your home, also.”

“No, you have no master. You are your own masters now, and you shall be until I, personally, tell you that you’re not. When in your home, you decide the rules.” Laedron watched as the creatures seemed to think about his words. “Also, you shouldn’t harm any other people, people like us. Help them if they need help; however, if they try to do you harm, you should defend yourselves.”

Marac raised an eyebrow. “Should we be telling them that, Lae? That leaves a bit of room for interpretation.”

“It’s the most sensible advice I can think of. Oh, and another thing. Everything within these caverns is your property, and anything you build or make henceforth is yours.”

“The platinum, Lae? You’re giving them the mountains of treasure?” Brice asked, his eyes wide and his brow furrowed. “What about Harridan’s people?”

“The platinum, the crystal, everything belongs to the Trappers, for no one would have even known about it if not for their hard labor in digging it up. Besides, if Harridan needs money, he should have to ask for it from those who did the work.”

“But you said you would give it to Harridan’s people. You promised, Lae.”

“I promised to give it to Harridan’s people, yes, but are these not also Harridan’s people? Tavin’s kin? The same essence that gives them life once fueled the fallen Uxidin, the same Uxidin that Harridan and Tavin called brothers and sisters. Tavin, I think, wouldn’t have cared one way or another knowing what we know now.”

“Which is?”

Laedron sighed. “That the whole thing was a ruse. Tavin was sent here specifically for the purpose of dying at Kareth’s hands. Harridan used some sort of spell to poison Tavin’s essence, and once it had been absorbed, the essence tainted Kareth’s staff.”

“And the next spell,” Valyrie said, “caused his staff to explode.”

“Precisely. Harridan knew that Tavin would meet his end down here, but he wanted Kareth out of the picture, once and for all.” Laedron glanced at the Trappers, and they stood there like confused children listening to a conversation between adults. “Sorry for that. We’ll leave you to it.”

“Since we may never see you again, we have questions before you go, Master.”

“I’m not-” He cut himself off. “What questions do you have?”

“Are we evil?”

This must be some sort of cruel torture for some transgression I’ve committed Laedron thought. “No, you’re not evil.”

“How do you know, Master?”

Of course, we’re stuck here in a hole in the middle of nowhere being asked about philosophy from some giant crystal construct. “The nature of evil is complicated, but in order to be evil, you must have certain qualifications.”

“What qualifications?”

This shall never end. I see it now, standing here for eternity talking to this creature. “Well, I don’t know… greed, avarice, selfishness, that sort of thing. And you have to take them to extremes, to the point of harming other people for your own benefit.”

“We have done that, Master. We must be evil.”

“Would you stop calling me-” He paused. Though frustrated and ready to leave, he formulated a question in his head. If I don’t ask, I’ll always wonder what its response would have been. “What have you done that makes you think that you’re evil?” How long, pray tell, might the answer to that take?

“We have killed at our master’s command, taken souls from men to power our bodies, and been a blight on the forest.”

“Did you do those things knowing that they were wrong?”

“No, but when you listed the things that we should or should not do, we realized that we have done everything wrong.”

Laedron threw up his hands. “Your master was an evil man with a number of issues. So long as you do things right from now forward, you can rest assured that you aren’t evil.”

“We do not rest.”

“It’s an expression.”

“Expression?”

“A figure of speech… forget it. Do no more wrong, and you will not be evil.”

The creature nodded in understanding, then rubbed its chin and asked, “What is the opposite of evil, Master?”

It must be picking up on our gestures, for a crystal being would have little reason to scratch itself. “Goodness. Kindness. Benevolence.”

“Then, we will be all of those things.” The Trappers nodded their emerald heads at each other, then the one with whom Laedron had been conversing gestured toward the exit. “I will walk Master out.”

“Thank you.” Laedron, followed by his companions, joined the Trapper at the tunnel mouth. He glanced back at Tavin’s body. We cannot bring him with us. His people should remember him the way they last saw him, alive and well. “Oh, and I would suggest picking a name for yourself.”

“A name? We are Myrdwyer.”

“Yes, of course, but I was thinking something more personal, more individual to you . Something that the other Myrdwyer would know you by.”

“Do you have a name, Master?”

“Laedron Telpist.”

“I will think about these things, Master.”

Laedron followed the Trapper into the tunnel, then walked alongside his friends. “They’ll have their work cut out for them.”

“Just imagine what this place might look like in a year or two,” Marac said. “That’s if they do something other than wander about the caverns for the rest of eternity.”

I wonder how long they will live. Eternity? Perhaps, for a body made of crystal would need little rejuvenation. Their bodies don’t break down like ours do. “Only time will tell. I have a feeling that won’t be the case, though.”

“Do you?”

Laedron nodded. “Somehow, yes. A little direction can go a long way.”

Through a maze of caverns, tunnels, and burrows, Laedron kept the Trapper in sight as he followed, and at the end, he spied the forest, darkened by night, and felt the cool breeze on his face. “Thank you for showing us the way.”

“It was my pleasure, Master.” The Trapper gave him a little bow. “I have been thinking about what you said.”

“About what I said? What did I say?”

“That I should have a name, something that identifies me as an individual.”

“Did you come up with one yet?”

“No, but I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Yes?”

“How long are names?”

Laedron shrugged. “Well, I don’t know, really. It varies based on a number of factors.”

“I have come up with a possible name, and I believe that it embodies everything I hope to be. It contains twenty-four words-”

“No, I don’t think you understand.” Laedron was distraught at imagining how many questions his response might inspire. “A name should be something shorter. If your name has twenty-four words in it, it would take quite a while to address you.”

“Is that a bad thing, Master?”

“It could be. Suppose we were in the forest, and I called out to warn you of a falling tree. If your name was that long, I might not be able to say it in time to help you.”

“Master is good and wise.”