�But what about healing, making things, magic helps people too.� Replied Leimar.
�Healing helps for a short while, but it�s nothing compared to what alchemists could do. Alchemists used to mix up permanent remedies, alright some of them harmed their patients too, but they did no worse than mages. Mages stopped that though, and any other things in competition with them. Magic can fulfil your dreams alright, but those dreams can become so powerful they obscure the very things they were supposed to help in the first place: people.�
You can take it that this conversation went on in the same sickening altruistic way for quite some time, Leimar eventually being won over to Dave�s anti-magic socialism. It takes longer than a lot of authors would have you believe to properly convince a boy to change his mind on something he has always believed, so I�ll skip over all of that for now, and come to the end of that bit:
�So, what are you going to do then?� asked Leimar, �Are you going to end magic?�
�I can�t do that boy, I�m not powerful enough. I�m going to heal the world instead.�
Leimar sighed for a long breath and sat back in his chair, the building tension releasing itself from his tendons, �You nearly had me there with all that talk of equality and the good of humanity, you know!� he chuckled, � But for all that, you�re just a �save the planet� hippy after all. Thank Gods, you had me worried. Come on, you�re a powerful man, you don�t really believe in all that flower power nonsense do you?�
�No.� replied Dave, turning away, �I mean it, and I�m not a hippy. The planet didn�t originally have magic you know, the magic was put here by the Archdemon many years ago to spoil humanity. It has hurt the planet and harmed humans. Without magic humanity could have done so much, I just can�t wait to see it.�
�Well, it�s a plausible plot device for where magic came from, though a little weak, what happened to this convenient demon?� Asked Leimar.
�He was banished by the first mages, using his own force against him. I bet he died with a smile on his face though, knowing his own death was just a start of the pain humanity was to wreak on this earth.� Said Dave.
�Is that why you try to alter the earth, to return it to how it was?� Asked Leimar.
�That�s how it started, but after a while I realised I couldn�t just reshape the earth, it needed healing properly, and I couldn�t do it, I wasn�t good enough.� Said Dave, before turning dramatically, �And that�s where you come in.�
�No, you don�t mean�� replied Leimar,
�Yes Leimar�� Said Dave,
�No�� said Leimar,
�Yes,� said Dave, nodding,
�You�re�my father?� asked Leimar, enlightenment dawning,
�No, you silly dramatic sod,� replied Dave, �You were spawned in the magic birthing pits like everyone else. You are the one who is going to heal the world. I saw your birth and felt your potential. The rest of your life has been preparation for now.�
�What, all the time with Hand, all the pain and misery�� asked Leimar,
�All character building,� replied Dave, �chin up, you�re gonna save the world. I let Hand imprison me so I wouldn�t get bored whilst you matured; I knew I couldn�t raise you myself, my heretical views meant I could never get an apprentice, but I knew Hand would do what was necessary. It was all planned, all up to this day. Come on boy, do the business.�
�Now?� asked Leimar.
�No time like the present.� Replied Dave.
�But the world isn�t a being, I can�t just heal it, I need flesh to work on.� Objected Leimar.
�Open your mind, feel nature, all that sort of clap-trap, give it a good try and a hard think, I�m sure you�ll get it.� Replied Dave.
Leimar opened his mind, reached out, and touched the world. He gasped, it was huge, but he saw its wounds, felt its pain. He instinctively started to weave, to heal the planet.
�You know boy, once you�ve done this the whole world will change. It will go back to where we would be if magic never had been. You won�t even remember this, but you will be a hero.�
As Dave finished the last word, Leimar finished the last thread and a huge weave slowly unfolded itself into the world, the threads of magic subsiding, wounds healing, people changing, mountains receding, the world reverting to what it could have been�
And Leimar found himself in front of a computer, memories of magic fading as he sat, trying to think of a story. He was an author, he wrote stories, and he was sat, ready to start another. He turned up his CD player and inspiration struck; he began writing:
�Leimar once more attempted to grip the threads with his mind, trying to bend them in an intricate weave. It was like trying to tie a knot out of cooked spaghetti�