Chapter 48: A Mirror into Blackness

The Bretheren Arcanum stayed there for quite a while. Zentarou kept a light orb glowing, hoping it might provide a beacon for Natar. For a time they talked, mostly to keep the pressing silence at bay, then that faded out, so all they heard was Dregan’s singing. Then that faded away as well.

“Dregan?”

“I’m still awake, Vivi. I was just thinking.”

“Oh?” Dregan smiled a bit sadly, opening his eyes.

“I believe you all were asking me something before we took our little flying lesson?” He chuckled. “You all are right, that spell upset me, though I wasn’t lying when I said it brought back memories for me.”

“Just not telling the whole truth,” Zentarou finished for him.

“Yeah.” The Dunedi sighed. “I learned that spell near the height of my power in the Sind’ala’nil. I was the Mastermage then, the most powerful mage in all of my home. Students of any type obeyed and respected me, through envy - and fear. I was called the greatest Dunedi mage ever. I was the closest to a true Dunedi I’d ever been.

“To put it bluntly, I was dying, and Mastermage Dregan was making quite a name for himself.

“Then I mastered that spell. It was the highest in my mater’s spell book, and I had made it work when his attempts had all failed. I was elated. I even thought I would be able to break the barrier that kept Dunedi mages from casting higher spells normally prevented by the Test, without taking it. Kystri was smiling on me, and nothing was going to get in my way. Then the darkest day of my life arrived.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing, and in a soft tone. “I was teaching some mages, and was getting very annoyed. They were learning so slowly, and finally I’d had enough. I walked out of the room... and threw a fireball in behind me. None escaped.” They gasped. It just didn’t seem like Dregan could do such a thing. “I walked away from them, ignoring their screams, their death cries, but the clerics made sure none perished permanently. Layrina, my consort - both then and now - came to me soon after to berate me for my foolish actions. I was still angry at the time, and shouted at her to leave alone what she knew naught about. Then she mentioned my sister, Quatrill, who had fled many years before. No one had mentioned her since she left, and somehow hearing it incited me into a rage.

“I lashed out at her, and used that spell on her. It worked even more effectively on mortal flesh... it would’ve killed in her a few moment’s use.

“She screamed! How I remember that sound, which chills me still. That scream, that wail of pain from one who had taken so much pain before, brought me back to myself. I called off the spell, and fell to my knees, and cried. If, back then, I could grasp love, I loved Layrina. And I’d nearly killed her.” He drew a shuddering breath, tears leaking out of his eyes. “She used her clerical powers to heal herself, then did something I thought she’d never do.”

“Trolly-molly, what?”

“She knelt with me, and enfolded me in her arms. She could have had me killed - the priesthood rules all in Dunedi society, with mages on the next to the lowest rung - but instead she held the secret in her heart, and forgave me.”

“Wow,” whispered Vivi.

“She smoothed things over with the cleric hood, saying that I was overworked and overstressed, and paid the students’ families and the clerics for the trouble, saying it was from me. And the next night, she told me I should leave the Sind’ala’nil, that it wasn’t my place anymore. She saw into my heart when even I could not, and help up a mirror to the darkness I’d become. She saved my soul that night.” Dregan took a few deep breaths. “I swore to myself to never use that spell ever again. But when I summoned the demon... it was like I wasn’t myself anymore! It mocked my power, challenged my authority, and I - I used it! I broke my vow to myself and to Layrina and called upon that demonic side of myself!” He used his good arm to wipe away his tears. “And then, when you try to be good friends, good brothers, and confront me about it, I lash out at you, just like I lashed out at her that dark day. It... it seems like I’ll never be rid of the Mastermage, no matter how hard I try.”

“Trolly-molly, Dregan, you did what you had to with the demon!” assured Orko. “That beats wasn’t going to tell us on it’s own, and Cerene’s life was on the line.”

“The Mastermage didn’t take control of you,” added Zentarou. “You used him to aid us.” Vivi smiled.

“We all have darkness in us,” the little mage said. “I should know. But even if you gave in all those years ago, you’ve atoned for it now.” He grasped Dregan’s good hand and flipped it over, so the palm was up, and tapped the symbol. “This proves it. You’re not the Mastermage now. He’s dead, and you’re the one with the reputation.” Dregan smiled, eyes wet with grateful tears.

“Thank you, all. Sometimes I forget that I have friends now: my family, and you three. When I forget that I’m not alone anymore, I almost lose my grip on the light. But you three found it for me here, in this blackness. You found me in more than one way when I was lost.”

“We’re brothers in magic,” Zentarou replied simply. “Now you get some rest. It should be safe for you to sleep, if we wake you up every now and then.” Dregan gratefully closed his eyes, feeling like a weight was removed from his chest, and almost instantly fell asleep, hearing Vivi’s last words to him:

“In this darkness, you are never alone.”