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life, hefting his two-handed club on one shoulder. "I can remain no longer,
Eddas... I can feel the pull of those golden, lovely lands drawing me again. I
shall simply say 'farewell', for now..." He started to turn, then paused. "Oh
- I nearly forgot. Dyarzi sends her love, Eddas. And you were right - she is
quite beautiful, even for a Little Person. Farewell..." Dragonslayer then
turned and walked away down the road, fading with each step, until he finally
vanished before he reached the bend in the road.
I stood there, staring after him, struck speechless.
"It's alright, Auntie Joy, really. It was just a ghost. Nothing to worry
about," Lyota said, trying to help Joy calm down. "I know they're a bit
frightening, but that's part of their nature. Really, though, most are
harmless. Master Eddas taught me."
Joy simply shuddered. "How you Hyperboreans can be so brave in the face of
something like that, I will never understand!"
I simply gaped at the empty space where Dragonslayer's ghost had disappeared
into. "He spoke with Dyarzi... My beloved..." I shook my head. "I don't
understand... He said I called him - but I did no such thing! I simply sang
his Deed-Song!"
"That's what I was trying to tell you before, Master Eddas," Lyota replied,
hugging Joy for a moment. "You sang from your heart, your soul, of your old
friend. That great knot of mana, there," she said, pointing to my chest, "that
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knot which maintains this body as it is... Well, it responded. I think it's
far more complex than you realize, Master Eddas. It's more than simply a knot
of mana-energy forged in the heart of a mana-storm, as you once thought. I
think that it's part of that artifact you told me of years ago, when I was
younger - the Skull of Hyarlanoth. I think the enchantment which first bound
you to this body is a part of it - and you retain some of the powers of that
artifact, because of it. And more... I think it's growing, too, and absorbing
more from the very enchantments you bear. Your song was a Song of Power,
Master Eddas, and the power came from that knot of mana within you."
"Bah! That's impossible! Next you'll tell me I've become a Rune Singer!" I
snorted.
Lyota visibly shrank at my gaze. "I don't know what that is, Master Eddas, I'm
sorry," Lyota replied, bowing her head.
I sighed. "I'm sorry, too - this is a bit much for me, as well. I'm not quite
the indomitable tower of strength Joy makes me out to be," I said, and smiled
wanly. "Come - let's go inside so your Auntie Joy can have a bit of byallar to
relax, and I'll explain."
Chapter Six
"...as dead as the Rune Singers."
- Elven cliché.
A few minutes later, we were seated around my table again in my room at the
top of my tower. Joy had finished her second cup of byallar, and looked a bit
less pale, though still not fully recovered from her fright. Lyota simply sat
quietly, gazing at me. "So what is a Rune Singer, Master Eddas?"
I shrugged, pouring a cup of byallar for myself. "Well, countless ages ago,
when the world was young, there was no separation between the mortals and the
gods, and the word and the will warped the mana of our universe as desired.
The universe, as it existed following the Creator speaking the WORD and
forming it from the infinite Void, was chaos. Eventually, the gods established
the Divine Compact, and forged the beginnings of the Arc of Time. Order was
brought to the universe... But at a price, as mana could no longer be
manipulated with the word and the will, but now only by those whose bodies and
minds were attuned to it, through possession of the Talent," I explained, and
Lyota nodded as I continued.
"Well, in our ancient legends, back when our race was young, there were two
main schools of mages which emerged as we arose from the wilderness and began
to build the foundations of our civilization - Rune Singers and Rune Weavers.
This was, according to the elves, perhaps twelve thousand years ago, before
the dawn of our own histories. Rune Singers cast spells by singing, their
voices bending the forces of mana to their will through their songs. The notes
of the melodies, you see, resonated with the proper frequencies of mana
necessary to produce the desired effect. On the other hand, Rune Weavers cast
spells through intricate gestures and dances, their bodies shaping the flow of
mana to what they wished. The movements and gestures guided and controlled the
mana that flowed through them naturally, you see, and thus produced the
desired effect."
"Ah, I see," Lyota replied, nodding. "Whatever happened to them, Master
Eddas?"
I sipped my byallar for a moment, remembering my own history lessons, ages
ago. "Well, there was much debate between the two schools as to which sorcery
was the 'true' method of sorcery - and this debate was only compounded by
hundreds of minor variations in their knowledge and theory, as schools of
"specialists" arose as the centuries passed. Some of these specialists focused
on the elements, and became the first Warlocks, the Elemental Mages. Others
focused on the power of nature, and became the first Druids... Sorceresses of
nature, really. And there were dozens more "specialists" with their own pet
theories of magic, none of which truly agreed with any of the others."
Joy, who had regained a bit of her composure, finally snorted. "Knowing the
stories you like to tell, Old Man, I'll bet they all had a big fight."
I grinned wryly. "Well, yes. Eventually, this debate over which theory was the
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one 'true' theory broke out into a war - a war of sorcerers. The details of
the war weren't really known to the scholars of my day, though the elves know
bits of it, here and there. The first mana-storms to rage across our world
occurred during that war, and many were caught within the effects. Manticores,
minotaurs, and several other 'Halfling' races arose at that time, as did the
Dryads and Naiads. You once asked what their origins were, Lyota. Well, that's
their origin - their ancient ancestors were circles of sorceresses who
specialized in the powers of nature. Caught in the wake of those ancient
mana-storms, they were transformed, and bonded to their knowledge and powers
in a way that defies understanding."
Lyota nodded. "Ah, I see - so the dryads were bound to the trees they once
drew power from, and the naiads to the streams and rivers they drew power
from?"
I nodded. "Indeed," I replied, then shrugged. "Well, little is known beyond
that point, really. What is known is that from all that conflict, one type of
sorcery emerged among humans - the path of the Mage, which you have learned,
and will continue to learn as the years pass. We speak incantations which
contain the runes of power the Rune Singers once sang, and we use gestures
which contain elements of the somatic methods of the Rune Weavers. Yet, we
also rely on formulas, theories and knowledges far more advanced than that the
Rune-Weavers, the Rune-Singers, or any of their contemporaries once knew. And,
as you will discover, in the end, the path of the Mage is the 'one true path'
that all these early divergent schools were seeking - and the same path nearly
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