"Please, let me send you back now, you've done enough for us already" She could see the concern on his face, and she could read the sincerity in his mind. He was genuine, but she wasn't having any of it. "Gwyddionn I told you, I'm not going back right now. I'd like to see a bit more of the place seeing as you've gone to so much trouble bringing me here". Where ever the hell here was. He'd hadn't been able to tell her that, and neither had his lovely companion, Raven.
Ann, my dear�
He was calling her dear now. Oh well, they'd just spent three hours drinking together in this tavern and gotten close quickly. Funny how easy it was to open up and share your woes over a few beverages when the conversation was with a lady most likely from another dimension. Mind you she'd been doing most of the drinking.
At least drink a little more slowly. I know you keep saying that the dareilu tastes like a fruit drink but you got the barman to mix in freatsdew and mislsdeqdew as well. Take it from a wizard that's a potent cocktail.
Hey I just told to give me the strongest he had. I intend to have a bit of a good time. You know I was on my way out to meet some of my girlfriends before you magicked me here. However you did it. Why the hell do you think I'm dressed like this? I had noticed, not many women in our region are attired in such a manner. I just don't want you to become too inebriated, the beverage you're consuming, it�
Packs a kick. OK, I'll slow down. As for the clothes I've got it covered. I've mindswiped the whole room to think I'm dressed like Raven. Head to toe black. She took out her Marlboro's. Thank God I've got you with me she thought, and lit up.
Gwyddionn and Ravens eyes were like saucers.
That fire you carry Ann, it is magick, no?
Umm, no, its mechanical. You don't have anything like this here? She'd noticed some of the old men lighting their pipes from the fireplace.
Some of us do. Gwyddionn extended his right index finger and a wisp of blue flame issued form the tip of it. He grinned warmly.
That's impressive Gyddionn. But considering the current political situation here it sounds like you people need a lot more than tricks like that. And yes, I know you're capable of a lot more than that, but Gwyddionn from what you've told me it sounds like this place is on the brink of tyranny. This 'Dark One' as you call him is a dictator straight after Stalin's own heart.
Stalin?
Never mind. Let's just say a bad guy from my world who's thankfully long dead, and even he didn't have a horde of psychic monkey men to do his bidding. Please let me stay, let me help. I've training in this kind of work. It's what I do for a living.
He stared at her, his face inscrutable now. She'd pushed into his mind one time before and she wasn't about to do it again. Psychic rape wasn't her style and he'd been deeply embarrassed by it, necessary as it may have been. How odd she'd thought him when she'd seen him originally, long black hair and beard with what seemed like highlights of crimson and blue in it. His piercing emerald eye sand golden hued skin. Now she thought it odd that she'd gotten accustomed to it, but then everything here was like that. The buildings, the streets, the drinks, the people. Dark with luminous multicolour undertones. The city and it's people had a too-muchness, an over-ripeness to her eyes. It was as if she was if she come to a technicolour land but without the Hollywood cutesiness. Dark fires burned at the heart of this land
You battle tyrants for a living? In what way Ann?
Oh Lord, they wouldn't like this Ann thought ."I'm kind of a spy�for the government".
She could feel their fear, and the terror that they'd made a mistake. They were too stunned to just get up and leave. "No, please Gwyddionn, not like you think. Not like agents of the Dark one's. Not all governments are evil you know. Well, then again, I suppose most have a little bad in them; but I try not to be part of that. I work for an agency staffed by people like myself. Psychics and others with talents. We act to help the people and protect them. That's how I've always worked and it's not gonna change simply because I'm here. Believe me it's the people first, government second and there's no reason I shouldn't spend some time here doing what I'm good at."
Verily I believe you are an honest person Ann. This I saw and it was for such a reason that I reach out to you from my captivity in my hour of doom.
Then trust me please, and let me help.
"Yes Gwyddionn do!" Raven spoke up. " For you have seen the future time in your minds eye and you know the era of terror that will come to pass"
"He has the gift of precognition?". It was a talent Ann disliked intensely, for to see the exact future meant you gave into it in despair or acted to change it, often for the worst. Better to let the unseen hand of chance intervene where of may.
No, raven replied softly. Better than that, he has the true sorcerers ability to see across times and ideas and sentiments as they meld and melt. Our people have grown used to freedom and take it too lightly. They are ready to give in rather than oppose the creeping tyranny of the Dark One and his adVashi and his henchmen, for they think freedom is eternal and it is not worth to fight. They think they shall always be free and put to the side of their minds the way our land has changed though they know it in their hearts. We cannot even speak of these things now as it is said not be polite talk and we are called trouble. When your voice is taken from you then the end is at hand. So if these sentiments among the people, and these acts of terror by the adVashi are unchecked our open, free, joyous way of life will fade even from memory. Gwyddionn knows this for he has sensed our possible endings.
You are correct Raven, as always. Indeed Ann we need your help. I have seen that we cannot defeat the Dark One alone, but you cannot help us at all unless I tell you our lands story. |
Although centuries old and seemingly a being of mystical power the dark one had once been an ordinary man. Though not of the same race as the people of this city. The legend current among the people is that he had been the second son through the second wife of a terrible imperious ruler from a land south of the lands of the Vashi. As a second son he could not inherit his father's glorious kingdom and so was destined to a life of servitude and oppression under the onerous yoke of his older half-brother. This elder sibling so the tale went was inept, unlikeable and wantonly cruel. The old crones atrributed this to his having lost his mother in childhood and having been raised to rule by such a stern father. The dark One, or Baakdar as his name had been in those days, was said in every way to be his opposite in character. Industrious, loved by all and loving of his people. His mother Abd-daale, who we are told was a wonderful person with an endlessly giving heart attempted to reach out to Baakdar's elder brother, to soften him and so to have a softer ruler for the people when the father would pass away. He rejected her kindness, indeed it only served to intensify his heartlessness and mistreatment of Baakdar. So horrific, so torturous were his cruelties that it is said Abd-daale truly feared for her child's life. What would any mother not do, in what way would her character not change if the life of her child was in peril. She was a different person then. A darkness overcame her. She plotted, schemed, began to hate and to wish for vengence. Her conclusion was this: the only way Baakdar could be free from the murderous intentions of a cruel king was if he was king himself. Abd-daale conceived of a plan.
This race (their name is forgotten now) were moon worshippers. Indeed their land was what would be called a theocracy, a religious state, and the king himself was said to be a direct descendent of the moon god. It was a religion taken most seriously by all its adherents (even the kings who over the eons had come to believe in their divine power) for they attributed all their good fortune to the moon god.
Thus it was that Abd-daale presented herself at the royal court and wept and keened and prostrated herself before the King and his prince. "Oh great ones" she wailed, her eyes cast to the heavens, her fingers curled in beseeching claws. "is it not a threat most grevious to our people that the young prince Abu-dar ( for that was his name, abu meaning "first progeny of" and Baak "second of" in their tongue)most beloved of all princes has never performed the ritual of endearment as all our future king's must at the age of twelve."
This ritual we are informed by the tales was one of the most sacred of their kingdom. In his twelfth year the heir to the throne must attend at the sacred temple when the moon was at her height, and accompanied only by his mother endear himself to the glowing night-time orb. Well as you can imagine a hubbub set about the room. The courtiers visibly reeled in horror. The old judges did wring their hands and bemoan this deadly oversight. The king looked grave and suddenly aged. What to do? What to do? For the child's mother was dead and could hardly be returned to life. What remedy could be found now to thwart the retribution of the moon god for this vast oversight.
"It is myself I blame" continued Abd-daale "for I have not been a mother to him. If only I had been a better woman and more perfect�but then are not all us women flawed creatures. Oh my misery, if only I had been the mother to you Abu-dar that such a perfect and lovely child deserved and had performed this sacred duty. Take my life my lord's, take my life. For I have failed you. Now on hearing this lament the courtier's perked up, the judges ceased moaning and smiled on each other, the king regained some of his youthful vigour. They had a solution.
And so it was that that very night Abu-dar and Abd-daale stood together in the central open square of the great temple. Utterly alone as the religious law commanded. Shrouded in white robes and bathed in moon-glow. "Great moon, who giveth life and power" Abd-daale began the chant as from behind a pillar to her rear a boyish figure in black stole towards them. Light flashed from a shard of steel. "take this one now" she raised voice and arms to the heavens, her echo cast far and wide throughout the great city by the marvellous acoustics of the temple. The dark figure raised the knife in the air�but then� as he was about to strike a beam of light flashed from the moon off the blade and struck Abu-dar dead!! Indeed the citizenry witnesed the light beam enter the temple as they peered from behinds their curtain, and all remarked that such a phenomenon had never been seen before.
Hours later Abd-daale emerged weeping and once again pleading for death. She had failed she said, the moon had taken Abu-dar's life. They had waited too long past the anointed time for the ritual. Had they not seen it's anger radiate from the sky to the temple. All was now lost.
Well no, all was not lost, it was hastily decided. Was Baakdar not the king's son also? Was Abd-daale not his mother. The next night another duo was ensconced in the great temple. Same woman, different son and no errant child killing moon beams. Hey presto, Baakdar is Prince, his father the king mysteriously dies in a year (of happiness we are told) and a new era of peace, prosperity and justice prevails in the moon kingdom of the southwest.
"I take it this story is absolute nonsense."
"Not absolute nonsense Ann" Gwyddionn was amused by her dead-pan assessment "but it does entail a large degree of fabrication. Now�let me tell you what really happened." |
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