Author: bftowe

Caye quizzically asked, “Only Rhiann know the significance of these things. You must be… him. You look so young. Are you using a Transformation Spell?”

Rhiann replied, “No, Mother, I was away. Time moved at a different pace for me. I discovered what Uncle Mayard sought. My purpose in life is follow his path and preserve what’s good of Magick and Sagain.”

Caye said, “Kurth, this is our son.”

Kurth said, “Then he must leave immediately. There’s nothing for him in Thynna. The Castellan, High Sheriff, and Lord Bailiwick can’t know he’s been here. It’s trouble for us.”

Caye said, “Your father is correct. When something goes awry in Thynna, we are always the first to blame and be investigated. Deputies will be here soon. You must go.”

Rhiann tearfully said, “I… I just wanted to see you… to let you know I’m alive…I…”

Caye said, “Then you have done so. Now, you must leave Thynna. You’ll find no help and no sympathetic ears. All traces of your Uncle Mayard are gone. Lord Bailiwick always blamed you for the theft of the Gem Bush. We have suffered in your stead. It’s best we live out our days in anonymity.”

Kurth stood and demanded, “You have been away over 600 years. Now you return to complicate our lives. We sent your brother as far away from Thynna as was practical. Mayard was an old fool. You are a fool to follow him. Please leave, and don’t involve any Old Ones.”

Rhiann fought back tears. He bent down and kissed his mother’s cheek and said, “I love you, mother. I’m sorry…”

His mother gave him the name Seffa Lexin. In a moment of time, the name forever left his memory. A celestial visitor appeared in the gray skies and moved toward the massive gray sun. This remnant of a dead sun traveled rapidly and slammed into the giant Andreas. The cosmic collision dispersed many fragments of the gray sun. Frozen by fear and wonder, the hunter stared upward. A miniscule piece of the gray sun hurdled toward him. The fragment moved quickly, approached to within a hand’s distance, paused, hovered briefly, circled him thrice, and then buried into the bewildered simple bloke’s left hand, between his fifth and sixth digit.  Excruciating pain stole consciousness from him, and the hunter fell to the ground.

Seffa dreamed.

His mind retraced his simple life, but then redness replaced the visions in his mind’s eye.

 

Wisps…

Threads…

Threads of Magick…

Threads of fate…

Threads of time…

Threads connecting worlds …

Dreams connecting worlds …

Dreams of Magick…

The Magick of Dreams…

Magick connecting dreams…

Magick connecting worlds…

Dream raiders…

Elf pressure…

Albtraum…

Albträume, elf dreams, nightmares…

Rhiann said, “May I enter?”

From within an elderly man’s voice cracked, “The hour is late. Return on the morrow.”

Rhiann’s spirits dropped. Another voice said, “The city is abuzz, Kurth. It might be important.”

The door opened. An elderly, unkempt Caye Klarje looked at the young man on her door stoop.

Rhiann said, “Hello, Mother.”

Caye Klarje coldly said, “This is a cruel hoax. You are a minion of Bailiwick, and you mock my son all the way down to his birthmark! Have not my mate and I adhered to every request of Lord Bailiwick, Castellan Yerko, and the Council of Thynna?”

Rhiann said, “Mother, it’s me. May I enter?”

Caye answered monotonically, “We cannot refuse entry to agents of the Council of Thynna. It’s part of our clemency deal. So enter, finish your tormenting, and be gone.”

Sorcerers and more guards rushed past. Caye and Kurth’s neighbor said as he ran by, “Someone opened the gate.”

Rhiann crossed the threshold. Clutter and decline marred the once immaculately maintained home. Rhiann stepped over old clothing and entered the sitting room. Kurth Marsh sat in his overstuffed chair and stared blankly at the wall. The elderly sorcerer scarcely acknowledged Rhiann’s entering the room.

Rhiann said, “Father, are you well?”

Kurth looked up at the new arrival and said, “Rhiann left long ago. It strains my memory to recall his appearance, but you look remarkably like him. The birthmark is particularly accurate. Now you’ve effectively brought back painful memories to my mate… and to me. Tell Lord Bailiwick he has succeeded.”

Caye entered and curtly said, “I suppose we’ll be accused of opening the gate. Tell High Sorcerer Bailiwick that I haven’t uttered a spell in centuries. Magick is as dead to me as my son. Kurth and I have been here all night.”

The sorcerer turned away from the massive gate and started toward the building named for Gnome-town’s old nemesis. He blended into the crowd near the gate house and observed the activities at the outer curtain.

The sergeant turned and shouted to colleagues on the allure, “Send word to the Castellan. There’s a young bloke at the gate calling himself Rhiann Klarje.”

The Captain of the Guard challenged, “Are you crazy? I’m not going to message the Council of Thynna that a sorcerer that disappeared 600 years ago wants to enter the city. I saw the man! He’s barely twenty!”

The sergeant said, “Did you see he bears the mark of the Klarjes?”

The Captain answered, “Like all the rest of you, I’ve only read about the birthmark shared by many descendants of the founder of Thynna. Lord Bailiwick has long forbidden mention of the founder’s name publicly. I’ll send word to High Sheriff Clank’s office. If he approaches the gate again, detain him. If he’s a Klarje, he’s not welcome. If he’s not a Klarje, he’s taunting the Castellan and High Sorcerer, and that’s a pretty dumb move.”

More guards gathered near the gate. Rhiann chose to await nightfall. One by one the guards left their posts and returned to the barracks. Per usual the nighttime ritual of closing the gate ensued. When darkness arrived, Rhiann removed the Staff of Entry from his bag of holding, placed an Invisibility Spell on his person, and approached the gate. He touched the staff to the intricate gate. Auras flashed about and the gate opened. Rhiann slipped inside. All manner of confusion ensued. Guards hustled about to try to close the gate. The Captain of the Guard called for battle stations. Rhiann made his way toward his parents’ home. The outer ward had changed little in his long absence. Taller spires filled the inner ward and more opulent high rising structures were readily evident inside the inner curtain. Sorcerers were exiting their homes to investigate the ruckus caused by the opening of the gate. Squads of heavily armed inner ward guards rushed toward the gate. The chaos facilitated his trek to Caye and Kurth’s modest home. The neighborhood remained familiar. Few things had changed. Curious folk stirred about and moved toward the outer curtain. Rhiann stood outside the door for a while. He sighed and approached the door and knocked.

. Rhiann made his way through visitors, merchants, and soldiers and approached the gate. An officer on duty stood in front of the closed gate. The intimidating officer had turned away several persons who had petitioned for entry. He referred some to the gate house for papers and flatly told others to stay away from the gate. His booming voice unsettled others to the point they retreated to regain their courage. The soldiers wore uniforms emblazoned with the crests of Yerko and Bailiwick. Three complex opening mechanisms had been added to the door. Three large dials dominated the odd black door. Rhiann pulled his cowl over his face and approached the gate keeper.

The sergeant at arms said, “State your business or be away!”

Rhiann answered, “My name is Rhiann Klarje. I petition for entry to the city.”

The soldier said, “Your garb implies you are a sorcerer. I’ll attribute your choosing to claim to be the infamous lost sorcerer Rhiann Klarje as a mistake of your youth. You even have his mark on your chin. I’m in a particularly generous mood, kid. Here’s some free advice. Drop the Klarje act. Lord Bailiwick and Castellan Yerko detest the Klarjes, particularly the one you are mimicking. You don’t want to cross the Castellan and High Sorcerer of Thynna. The Klarjes are relics of the past. Now they are relegated to outer ward residents. You’d better wipe that red mark off your face. Here! I’ll do you a favor.”

The burly sergeant extended a thick index finger and rubbed the heart-shaped, cherry-red birthmark on Rhiann’s chin. A small spark left Rhiann’s face and burned the sergeant’s finger. The big man yelped, “Ouch!”

Obviously the birthmark remained after his gesture. Rhiann bit his tongue and tersely replied, “I am Rhiann Klarje. Please grant me entry.”

The soldier said gruffly, “Don’t play sorcerers’ tricks on me! You could be charged with assaulting an officer. Now you’re trying my patience. You have to get papers to enter the city. Go over to the John Money Building and apply. If you get papers, I might let you in.”

Rhiann said, “The John Money building? Where…”

The soldier huffed, “Where have you been? The John Money Gate House. It’s named in honor of the greatest non-sorcerer to ever serve Thynna. Money became a member of the Council of Thynna before the end of his days. There are statues honoring him all over the inner ward. He’s in all the school books. He led the parties searching for the legendary Gem Bush. Rhiann Klarje, the very one you mimic, disappeared about the same time the tree vanished, gosh, over six hundred years ago. Castellan Yerko, High Sorcerer Lord Bailiwick, and Money suspected Rhiann Klarje had a hand in the bush’s disappearance, but they never found the rogue or the Gem Bush and were never were able to prove anything. Klarje probably wandered off into the desert and got eaten by one of his Old One friends. Bottom line is he’d be over 600 years old if he were alive and you don’t appear to have seen more than 25 seasons. Now… one last time. All newcomers have to be processed. Get in line at the Money building.”

Iyaca said, “If you insist on going to Thynna, you need to know the defenses have been shored up. Your Uncle Mayard’s defenses are still employed. By orders of the Council of Thynna the outer gate is Wizard Locked at nightfall. None came pass through without disabling the spell. The guards are carefully chosen and given Gems of Seeing to detect Magick and Invisible Creatures. Rings of Protection make the guards unsusceptible to spells such as Sleep, Death, and Stun. Every night a sorcerer places Protection from Magick Spells on the oncoming shift. The outer curtain is made of Stone of Ooranth, dark black stone impervious to most forces and nigh as hard as red diamonds. The wall stands thirty feet high. Guards on the allure have an unobstructed view of the ground in front of the wall. The bartizans rise another thirty feet and are positioned so that guards see several hundred yards. Continual Light Spells placed on Semper Fi Wood poles long ago illuminate the area on the outside of the wall. Outside the outer curtain, armed guards monitor the activities. During the day the guards control all who enter. Bailiwick installed three combination locks on the door. Failure to open them properly activates a Glyph of Warding. Every day, the combinations change. The sergeant of the guard only opens the door for those thoroughly vetted. Getting into the city is difficult, even for me. I sneak in every now and then just to keep my skills up. I’ve gotten pretty good at it after 600 years. Be careful. Bailiwick and Yerko’s minions are ruthless and thorough. If you get inside, don’t expect any help. Bailiwick and Yerko have firmly consolidated their control of the city of Magick. Your parents Kurth and Caye remain compliant to the council’s orders. Kurth sits quietly in meetings of the Council of Thynna, and Caye becomes more and more withdrawn. Both fear you are dead. Bailiwick, Yerko, and most leaders relish the idea. Thynna has not seen the mark of the Klarjes since you left. Don’t expect it to afford you any advantage.”

Rhiann said, “When I went into the desert, I had no idea I’d be away so long. It saddens me to know my Gnomish friends have long passed on. When I saw them leaving Thynna, I had no idea it’d be the last time I’d see them.”

Maranna said, “Not all of them have passed on.”

Rhiann said, “That’s impossible. Gnomes are not sorcerers. Even if they enjoy good health and accumulate thirty names, Gnomes are lucky to live a hundred seasons.”

Maranna said, “True. However, the spirit of adventure filled one of your friends. Right after you left, Burgomaster Storming Norman Twenty-four names sought to open relationships and trade with the Hanging Gardens and the Three Sisters. He sent his most reliable officers, including Captain Donovan. The envoys met with the Three Sisters. Mors became enamored with Donovan and shared a strand of her hair. Nona tied Mors’ lock to Donovan’s hair and bound the strands with fibers from her distaff, just as she did you and Decima and herself and Mayard. Donovan Eighty-four names still makes journeys to the Hanging Gardens. He has served as Burgomaster now for over four hundred years. Gnome-town has flourished under his rule. Copper dragons are domesticated. Thynna reacts very little now with the Gnomes. Bailiwick and Yerko even accused Donovan of hiding you and the Gem Bush. But it’s all water under the bridge now. Gnome-town allies with the Hanging Gardens. Donovan always asks about you. Thynna’s pardon did not extend to Gnome-town.  Of course, everyone else you knew in Gnome-town has gone to their ancestors. You’ll be glad to know that Donovan’s troops captured three of the Fearsome Foursome on the road and made them pay for their crimes. Castellan Yerko objected, but Longbeard, rest his soul, and Donovan held fast. The Man in Black, or John Money, was reassigned duty inside Thynna, and to my knowledge never left the city again. He choked to death on a blooter bone at Elliott’s shop. Yerko accused Elliott of fomenting the deed. There were suspicious marks on the body, but Elliott eventually evaded prosecution.”

Maranna touched the heart-shaped, cherry-red birthmark on Rhiann’s face, bent over and gently kissed him, and said, “I wasn’t the only one who searched. Decima implored Chiron to send out search parties. She rode centaurs throughout the Veldt for years. Your parents Kurth and Caye used their limited resources and searched for you. The Council of Thynna looked for you also, but only because they considered you a suspect in the disappearance of the Gem Bush. Search parties came around here, but Venla Faxxine and others scared them off. Your illusory Magick has served us and the little tree well. It’s thrived, by the way.”

Rhiann said, “Decima… searched for me? Has she changed?”

Maranna said, “Doesn’t look a day older. Constantly opines over your absence. The Three Sisters are as stubborn as ever. Many occasions have brought Thynna and the forces of the Hanging Gardens close to war. Thynna’s allies now include the Giants from Hinderburgh and the kobold legions of the north. Bailiwick and Yerko have solidified their hold of Thynna. Aging has not softened their dispositions. Shortly after you disappeared, the truly elected Lord President Homer and High Chancellor Odell both died mysteriously. Yerko’s puppets President Bogni and High Chancellor Lubick are very old now. They have never been more than figureheads.”

Rhiann blurted, “My parents? And brother Arthur Seigh?”

Iyaca said, “Your parents are still in fairly good health. Many sorcerers now see their thousandth year. They sent your brother Arthur Seigh Klarje away to attend school at the Laurels, a small village to the north near Hunter’s Peak. Kurth and Caye hoped to remove your younger brother from the discord that gripped Thynna and lessen the likelihood he’d follow in your footsteps. The Laurels has become a gathering point for thinkers and philosophers.

Rhiann then headed toward Wombat Mountain to rejoin Maranna and Iyaca Vassi. The cottage was completed. Extensive gardens grew around the homestead. Rhiann felt disappointment. His friends must have commandeered Magick to produce such growth, and he’d asked they adhere to Mayard’s wishes and limit its use. Rhiann found Iyaca working in the cottage. His apprentice looked older.

Iyaca said uncertainly, “It’s you, isn’t it?”

Net marveled, “Of course it’s me. I realize p-Mayard and real-Mayard mimicked me, but they are gone. Why’d you doubt me?”

Iyaca said, “You look the same. It’s like you’ve not even been away.”

Rhiann answered, “Iyaca, are you well? In this dim light, I’d swear you look older. Nice work on the cottage! I’m amazed you finished it so quickly! I’d rather you had avoided using Magick, but the end result is impressive.”

Iyaca replied, “What do you mean quickly? I am older, and we didn’t use Magick. Rhiann, we’d nigh given up on you. Only stories of powerful Magick to the south and east and reports from Old Ones saying they’d spotted you in the Veldt gave us the hope that you would yet someday return. You’ve been gone six centuries, six hundred changes of the seasons!”

Rhiann said, “You jest! I see my reflection in ICU! I look the same. How?”

Iyaca replied, “I see you still need convincing. You have been away six centuries.” Iyaca called, “Maranna, the wayfarer has returned.” The mature apprentice stared at Rhiann.

Rhiann said, “I feel like I’m on display in Thynna’s museum.”

The siren Maranna entered the room.

Rhiann said, “Maranna, you are as lovely as ever. Is Iyaca teasing me?”

Maranna said, “It’s true. You are not of the Old Ones, yet time has not touched you. How? Where? I flew over every inch of the Veldt, including those cursed buttes.”

Rhiann said, “I was oblivious to the passage of time.”

Iyaca noted, “You were unaffected by the passage of time.”

In the words of the Teacher of the Drelves on the occasion of the harvesting of the enhancing root tubers in Green Vale in the World of the Three Suns…

 

“The plants on the hill in the center are the Thirttene Friends. All plants are our friends, but like the enhancing plant, the circle of exceptional trees of various shapes and sizes that occupy the top of the knoll are special. The Thirttene are Magick. Even when we are without a Spellweaver, we are not without the Thirttene. Their gifts have saved us many times. But we must reserve their fruits for times of need. The Thirttene Friends and the geyser that gives them life predate our spoken and recorded histories. Legend holds the Thirttene are older than the Lone Oak. The waters of the geyser are Magick. You should respect, but not fear Magick.”