Wolf Awert - Ringwall's Doom

“Because the time to know has only just come.” Ambrosimas looked triumphant, but Nill did not understand what it meant.

“All the truths in the world are scattered, just lying about waiting to be picked up. But if you’re blind, you won’t find them. You have to learn to see, be ready for the truth you seek. Or you might as well never look in the first place.”

“And how is this connected to the Books of Prophecy?”

“Simple – they’re just lying around. After all this time. And now they want to be found.”

Was that what the falundron had tried to tell him? That they wanted to be found, and that time was running out? Nill was uncertain. Out loud, however, he said: “Fine, so go and search for them.”

“I most certainly will. I will search for them, believe me. I did want to ask you whether you’d be kind enough to help me. You and me, just the two of us. Two archmages on the hunt for the greatest secret Pentamuria has never known. Together, we can find them, all five of them!”

Nill had to admit that the idea captivated him. Perhaps it had been a mistake to limit his search to his parents. Perhaps they were only one plank in a door that opened to the future. But his wariness remained.

“And why me, of all people?”

Ambrosimas beamed. He knew he had won.

“I think – no, I know that there is something that connects you and these books. Fate chose you to discover the path to the ancient prophecies. You are not the one who will change the world; you are the one who stands ready to defend and protect it. To destroy the world, you don’t need to know the future.”

Nill nodded reluctantly. He could agree with the role of savior if that was truly what fate had in store for him. He felt pride and gratitude warm him from within at being asked by his old mentor for help. Ambrosimas’ expression was difficult to read; he merely looked a little pained and tired.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, Nill. Tell me why you can’t sleep and why you sank into Nothing today. I can help you. I have always helped you, and I will always be there for you.”

So Nill told him. He explained how it felt to have no friends, to be surrounded by enemies. His precarious position as an archmage despite his magical abilities being less than many common sorcerers. His fear of being the Changer, of bringing chaos and death and destruction to the land without meaning to. It was as if a dam had broken inside him, the words came flooding out. Ambrosimas was taken aback by this storm of emotion, and in the end Nill felt empty and exhausted. All his feelings had held tight to the words he had spoken, and they were now out. The body they had left behind collapsed softly. Nill could barely keep his eyes open.

“A terrible burden. But nobody would dare attack you here. If you’d like, I can cast a powerful protective spell over the entrance to your cave. An unwanted visitor will tremble in fear and have third thoughts about what they came to do.” Ambrosimas looked at his plump white hands, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“You would place a fear-charm upon my door?” Nill raised his head, unsure what to think of this.

“More than that, my boy. There are many more protections I could hide in your surroundings, even where you live and sleep. With your permission, naturally.”

“And why would you go to such lengths?” Nill asked. “Please don’t say ‘because I am such a good friend.’”

Ambrosimas’ best smile graced his features. “But Nill, that is precisely the reason. Although admittedly ‘friend’ might be a little too strong a word, it’s all the same to me. Or do you honestly believe an archmage would take a mere apprentice under his wing because he felt funny on that day? No, I have liked your manner from the beginning, Nill. You must learn who you can trust and who you cannot. Even if the trust is only temporary, even then it is worth it. You will achieve nothing without a little trust.”

Nill felt as if he was wrapped in a snug blanket of care and goodwill. He gave a long sigh and submitted to the warmth. A long-lost smile returned to his lips. “Trust. Yes, that is what it’s all about. Everything is connected to trust.”

Ambrosimas leaned back on his cushions, pleased at the way the conversation had gone. “You see, I really did only come here to ask how you are and what you’re up to. You haven’t spoken to me in a long time, and a council meeting isn’t the right place for such things either.” Ambrosimas’ voice lost all modulation, becoming little more than a whisper. “You can tell me everything. You don’t need to keep it all inside. You can tell me the truth. Any truth, or whatever you think is a truth. By all means, you can lie to me, it doesn’t matter. Just don’t give me any half-truths. Half-truths destroy the person who tells them and the person they’re told to. Half-truths are more destructive than full lies.”

That in itself was a huge lie, but Nill merely nodded. Ambrosimas was gifted in the arts of truth, half-truths and lies like no other; he combined and contrasted them with ease, and few could tell what was what. And so Nill hung in the archmage’s web, in the invisible strands that never cut, never held and were never felt.

Nill noticed nothing of it, and he felt safe, for the first time since he had passed under the great gate of Ringwall, and he kept talking. He told Ambrosimas about his search for his parents, of the symbols on his amulet and how he had learned to read them with the master archivist’s help. He told him about Perdis and the falundron.

“Who is this Perdis?” A look of hunger flitted across Ambrosimas’ broad face, gone before Nill could see it. Nill could tell him no more than that he was one of Ringwall’s many mages.

“And the Walk of Weakness? What were you doing there, and why are you so unimpeded by it?” Ambrosimas could have sung praises to his luck. Ancient secrets had been hidden right under the archmages’ noses for countless winters, and the lad just stumbled across them. If this was not evidence of fate’s guiding hand, he might as well be a fish.

“I was interested in the founding of Ringwall,” Nill answered. “It started in the Hermits’ Caves. Behind the sealed door there is a huge number of tunnels and caves, carved into the mountains by the Hermits. There is a different sort of magic, the magic in the Walk of Weakness and another one in the caves around it.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Ambrosimas interrupted impatiently. “The founders practiced a simplified form of the elemental magics, and Knor-il-Ank itself exudes an ancient one that colors our usual magic. What I want to know is why you were able to keep a hold of your own magic, and whether you found anything down there.”

“The falundron allows me to enter. I believe it’s the only creature that can influence the magic in that corridor. Apart from that there’s nothing. Except for the signs.”

“Signs?”

“Yes, on my amulet, and on the falundron’s back. They belong together somehow.”

“The falundron appears to be the key to many a mystery.”

“Yes, master. The falundron is the greatest mystery of all, yet still the key to all others.”

“And you understand it. Is it your friend?”

Nill denied this. “I don’t understand it at all, but it lets me do what I want and it grants me its protection.”

“I shall see what I can find out about this creature. For now, thank you for your honesty,” Ambrosimas said with a smile, adding a little gratitude to the warmth he had so carefully spun.

“As you know, it’s no longer any of my business to be advising you, Nill,” he continued. “But the only way to deal with difficult times is not to take them too seriously. Fate plays the roughest japes on us, and it has to be said that some of them are bitter. On the other hand, isn’t it funny that a boy can become an archmage before he can even use magic properly?”