Stephen Donaldson - Fatal Revenant

That life and lore give way to dross

And so preclude our wail of woe.

No heart remains to feel the loss.

“And so this way the world ends,

In failure and mistaken faith.

We dream that we will make amends,

Yet ev’ry hope is but a Wraith,

“A touch of soon extinguished flame,

A residue of ash and dust.

We ache to save our use and name,

And yet we die because we must.”

He seemed to be smiling as he sang.

But Linden did not heed him. “Then is it also true,” she continued stubbornly, probing the Elohim . “that the Insequent are the “shadow” on your hearts?”

Other Elohim had referred to a shadow upon the heart of the Earth. It justified their distress that Linden did not wield Covenant’s ring, their betrayal of Covenant, and their efforts to neutralise Vain.

Divergent emotions chased each other across lnfelice’s lambent features. “Wildwielder, the Insequent are filled to bursting with boasts. They vaunt their might and efficacy. Yet among them, only the Theomach has achieved an effect upon the fate of the Earth. Thoughts of them do not darken our absorption.”

“Then,” Linden insisted. “what is it? What is the “shadow”?

All who live contain some darkness, and much lies hidden there. But in us it has not been a matter of exigency-for are we not equal to all things?

Infelice sighed; but she did not decline to answer. Apparently her desire to sway Linden compelled her.

For a time which you would measure in eons, it remained nameless among us. Later, we considered that perhaps it was cast by the Despiser’s malevolence. But then we grew to understand that it was the threat of beings from beyond Time, beings such as yourself and also the Timewarden-beings both small and mortal who are nonetheless capable of utter devastation.

“By his own deeds, the Despiser cannot destroy the Arch of Time. He requires the connivance of such men and women as the Timewarden’s son and mate. He requires your aid, Wildwielder, and that of the man who was once the Unbeliever.”

Linden winced; but she did not relent. Is that why you wanted me to have Covenant’s ring? Is that how you justify closing his mind?”

It is,” assented Infelice. “Had wild magic been yours to wield in millennia past, you would have posed no hazard to the Arch of Time. The Unbeliever’s white gold would have answered your need. But his ring was not yours. Constrained by incomplete mastery, you could not have summoned utter havoc. Yet you were the Sun-Sage, empowered with percipience to wield wild magic precisely. Had you rather than the Unbeliever confronted the Despiser then, his defeat would not have been what it was, both partial and ambiguous. The Earth would have been preserved-and you would not now aim to achieve the ruin for which the Despiser has long hungered.”

Achieve the ruin-

Linden refused listen. She could not heed the Elohim : not now. Instead she concentrated on more immediate details. The dampness of her jeans. The water in her boots. The strict and comforting sensation of the Staff in her hand. Aflame, the Wraiths wove her way among the copses and greenswards. On her behalf, they held back every darkness. Their fires were too little to dim the thronging stars; but still the Wraiths gave a processional dignity to the night.

And so this way the world ends-

Everyone except Linden’s friends expected calamities. And even they were not impervious to doubt. The Giants had expressed their concern. Earlier Stave had asked her to consider turning aside. Days ago, Liand had admitted, It is possible that your loves will bind your heart to destruction- The Theomach himself had warned her. If you err in this, your losses will be greater than you are able to conceive.

Now, however, Linden felt no reaction from her companions. Apart from the Harrow, they walked or rode in stillness. As far as she could tell, they were ensorcelled by the Wraiths and heard nothing. Infelice was certainly capable of making her voice, and Linden’s, inaudible to others. By his own means, the Theomach had performed a similar feat in Berek’s camp.

Speaking of Linden’s capacity for darkness, Liand had also said, I am not afraid.

When she had steadied herself, she realised that lnfelice’s pronouncements made her stronger. Opposition confirmed her choices. The fact that she inspired fear in beings like Roger and Kastenessen, Esmer and Infelice, demonstrated that she was on the right path.

“You Elohim amaze me,” she remarked almost casually. “You always have. After all of this time, you still don’t realise that you’re wrong.

“I’m not like Covenant. I never was. If he hadn’t beaten Lord Foul, I would have broken.” She lacked his capacity for miracles. “Lord Foul would have won, and none of us would be here to discuss whether Covenant and I did the right thing.”

“No, Wildwielder,” insisted Infelice with a flush of heat and pleading. “We are not in error. Your thoughts are inadequate to comprehend ours. It was not for the Despiser’s defeat that we sought to impose the burden of wild magic upon you. Had you indeed “broken”, as you believe, both the Land and the Earth would have suffered great harm. That is sooth. But Time would have endured. Deprived of its rightful wielder, white gold is not puissant to destroy the Arch.

“Also there would now exist no Staff of Law. Its benisons are many. Nonetheless it constrains the Timewarden. By wild magic, he came into being-and by your deeds, he was made weak.”

If you hadn’t taken my ring and made that Staff, l would have been able to fix everything-

“And we are the Elohim ,” Infelice continued, “equal to all things. Across the centuries, we would have healed much. Perhaps the Despiser’s blight upon the Land would have remained, but the Earth we would have preserved and restored.”

With a strange calm exasperation as unexpected and luminous as her passage through Andelain, Linden asked. “Then what was it all for ? If you didn’t care about the outcome-or the Land-why did you try so hard to force me to take Covenant’s place?’

To himself, the Harrow chuckled scornfully.

Guided by Wraiths like candle flames, Linden rode under a broad Gilden and crossed the lip of a shallow vale-and saw her goal. It had always been there. Esmer had told her so: Stave and the Masters knew its location. Nevertheless it seemed to come into existence suddenly, as if it had manifested itself in response to her need. Between instants, the night was cast back, and silver fire shone from the bottom of the vale.

Dancing, the Wraiths moved ahead of her down the gentle slope and spread out to encircle the krill of High Lord Loric, son of Damelon, father of Kevin. There they bobbed and grew brighter, apparently bowing-and feeding, drawing sustenance from the blade’s incandescence.

Here was the source of their power to preserve Andelain. The krill was powerful in itself, able to cut stone without being dulled, and to sever the lives of eldritch creatures like the Viles and the Demondim. But its greatest strength-the chief accomplishment of Loric’s lore-was as a channel for other magicks. Made active by the mere presence, quiescent and extravagant, of white gold, the blade protected the Hills. Yet Linden had seen it accomplish more. With the krill , Sunder had slain Caer-Caveral, although Sunder was no more than a grieved Stonedownor, and Caer-Caveral was the last Forestal, powerful enough to preserve Andelain against the Sunbane. And in the release of Caer-Caveral’s music, the krill had enabled Sunder’s yearning to tear apart the fabric of Law so that Hollian lived again.