Raymond Feist - Magician’s End

Finally they crested a rise and he pointed. ‘There!’

In the distance they could see a vast table of land, surrounded by deep trenches. Pug said, ‘Those crevasses are vast. Can you fashion us a bridge that far?’

Before Guide could answer, Magnus said, ‘I think I can get us there.’

Miranda looked at him. ‘Are you certain? I found the short excursion I attempted very painful.’

‘I’ve been attuning myself as best I’m able to the energy states here …’ Magnus paused and they both knew he had almost called her ‘Mother’, and a smile was exchanged. ‘I doubt it will be pain-free, but I think I can manage this one attempt without incapacitating myself. As I can see our destination, much of the risk is abated.’

Pug and Miranda glanced at one another, then at Nakor, who nodded. ‘It’s been a long time since I tried to forbid you a risk,’ said Pug. He took Magnus’s hand as Miranda and Nakor joined hands, and Nakor grabbed Magnus’s arm. Pug gripped Guide’s arm with his free hand and found it unexpectedly cold.

Suddenly they were standing on a plateau miles from where they had been a moment before. Pug looked at his son and saw Magnus’s expression was pained, and perspiration was beading on his forehead. His pale complexion was drained of what little colour he normally possessed. He shook his head slightly and said, ‘I’ll be fine in a moment. If we have to do it again, I can adjust. This is not the easiest adjustment I’ve made, but it’s not the most difficult either.’

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ said Nakor, then he pointed past Guide. ‘Who’s that?’

Guide didn’t look, but said, ‘That is Pepan the Thrice-cursed.’ Then he vanished without a word.

The being left before them was as alien a creature as any of them had met, and in demonic form Nakor and Miranda had met many. He, if gender could be determined, was as miserable-looking a creature as any had seen. His head was three times the size of a normal man’s, but the body was slender and seemed barely able to hold it up. A bulbous stomach protruded so far that only the lower portions of spindly legs where it sat could be seen, and the arms were almost withered.

His face was long, from an almost hairless pate to a long, broad jaw, and a nose covered in pustules and scabs was at its centre. Rheumy eyes of pale blue surrounded by jaundiced yellow shed a constant stream of tears and heavy lips generated a constant flow of froth and bubbles.

Miranda said softly, ‘I’ve seen worse.’

Nakor said, ‘I’m older than you. No you haven’t.’

The creature seemed unaware of them until Pug ventured closer. ‘You are Pepan?’

‘That’s what Guide said,’ snapped the creature angrily. ‘Do you see anyone else here?’

Nakor pressed forward, his insatiable curiosity pushing aside other considerations. ‘Tell us why you are called the Thrice-cursed.’

‘Listen and be wiser for it, mortal!’ shouted the creature. ‘In this world once was I a man among men, a king among kings, a being of power and wealth, wisdom and beauty. Did I sit upon thrones and did subjects tremble at my beauty? Yes! Did I possess all that any man might desire? Yes!’

Pug saw Miranda about to interrupt and slightly shook his head to indicate he wanted to hear this tale: perhaps there was knowledge to be gained here.

‘In my arrogance I did conspire to elevate myself beyond the wealth and power I had, to rise to the heavens and seek a place among the gods.’

Nakor grinned, and nodded. ‘Go on.’

‘In my vanity, I did create engines of destruction unmatched in the history of my people. Nations I conquered to gather mighty armies around me: those who were vanquished served or died.

‘Then in the tenth age of my reign, I came here to the Tent of Heaven, and led my hordes up the Path of the Gods, to the top of the tallest mountain on this world!’

Nakor glanced around, for they were on what had once been an undersea plateau. ‘I see no mountain, Pepan.’

‘Washed away by the ocean, for no sooner had I approached the Gates of Heaven to demand my due as the newest of the gods, they picked up the entire mountain and thousands of my soldiers fell screaming to their deaths. Then, for my vanity, the gods cursed me by washing away all knowledge of me, sweeping my people into the sea with me, while I was chained to that very mountain. I listened to their screams of terror and pleas for mercy, until there was only silence.

‘Then I knew the price of vanity, perhaps the worst of all sins, for alone I waited, eons passing as the waters wore away the very rocks to which I was chained. The sea became my home and I abided.

‘Above, time passed; I had but scant knowledge of it, only suggestions carried to me on fickle tides. A strange scrap of fabric, unlike any I had beheld, drifted close and I seized it. I wondered who had woven it and what manner of creature now walked in the world above me. I treasured that fabric until the salt of the water had faded it and the very fabric wore away.

‘Once a ship passed directly above, blocking out the faint light of the sun as it passed. I wondered who voyaged upon it, from whence they came and where they were bound.

‘As the mountain wore away, sections sheared off and I was carried deeper into the depths, until no light reached me from above.’

Miranda said, ‘That is far more than three curses; that’s damnation without ending.’

‘But there you are wrong, mortal!’ shouted Pepan. ‘For after a time I found peace, an acceptance of my lot. I was content to let my mind go void, to simply be in harmony with the rhythms of the sea.

‘Angry gods at last took note of my peace, and chose then to inflict the second of my curses. A day, a month, mere moments, I do not know how long passed, for time had become meaningless to one dwelling blind in the depths of the sea, but suddenly the waters receded and I was again in the light and air! Fire rained down from above, and majestic clouds of flame and ash tore across the heavens as war on a scale unimagined by mortals raged across the land. Engines of destruction vast beyond my imagining, making my proud fleet seem like mere toys, cruised the skies, delivering obliteration to all below.

‘Mortals in armour unlike any seen before hurried across broken lands with lances of red light and fire-belching engines on treads, destroying all before them.

‘Then hordes of demons appeared, sweeping mortals away as a scythe shears grain, and answering them was a host of angels, swords aflame, horns sounding notes so pure that I was reduced to weeping at the first note.

‘This world was torn asunder and oceans vanished as energies hotter than a star burned across the lands. And yet I abided.’

He fell silent for a moment, and to the four travellers it was unclear if he was merely organizing his thoughts or experiencing some emotion at the memory of this unbelievable narrative.

‘So, in sum, my second curse was to watch any shred of a thing I might have loved destroyed in the war between gods and men.’ His voice softened. ‘A war I began. Ages passed and my third curse was made apparent.’

‘What is that?’ asked Nakor.

‘Upon this world remain scattered remnants of nations, which I gathered.’ He pointed to the assembled bits and scraps he had cobbled together to make a shelter. A bit of something served as a chair; there was also an ancient-looking table. Shreds of fabric had been woven together into a quilt. Pepan himself wore a simple breechclout that was revealed when he finally stood up.

‘For uncounted days I wandered, gathering what I could find, always to return here.’

‘Why here?’ asked Magnus. ‘There must be more hospitable places on this world.’