In Pursuit Of Wisdom (Book 1) (39 page)

“So
, I have taken the coward’s path, if we are to start off our conversation with honesty.  But I am a vain woman, and I do love my eyes. Other prophets may ask for different…blessings.  For me—I asked to keep my eyes.”

Something nagged at Kari.  “Elsa…who did you ask?”

Elsa smiled warmly.  “Aren’t you full of questions today?  For now let me say simply that we all answer to someone, whether we acknowledge it or not.”

“I see
,” Kari said, frowning slightly.  She wanted more answers.

“No, you don’t.  But you will.  Cast your spell, let us be
gin.”

Kari cast a simple illusion that a brightly colored bird had flown in from the outside and landed gracefully on her shoulder.  As illusions go, this was a minor spell.  It was more than sufficient for Elsa to work her magic.

As she had done hundreds and hundreds of times before, she “lifted” her prophecy from a cacophony of images that began to flood the room between the two women.  She saw three Elves, dressed in white, approaching her with a marvelous tower behind them.  She saw an enormous warrior with honest, intensely blue eyes staring at her.  She saw an exotic-looking female True Mage, weaving a complex spell in front of her.  She saw three symbols, floating in mid-air.  And then all images faded into a single face, a familiar face.  Handsome, with auburn hair, only his eyes were now pure white, and he was smiling confidently at her, his face filling the room between her and the Ol’ Shakoor.  Finally his face began to fade, and the image of the bird did, too.

“He affects your future too, I see.”  Elsa said after a few moments passed.  She poured herself a glass of water from a large, narrow pitcher and drank deeply.

I own my future, not him or anyone else. 
“What does it mean?” Kari asked, trying not to sound annoyed.

“Magi is a fulcrum in our Dark World.  Your path depends greatly on the choices he would make.”  She sipped her water thoughtfully and stared at the illusionist.

Kari shifted and crossed her arms across her chest.  “You really have no idea how much it irks me when you say Magi’s path matters to mine.  We saw his white eyes, so he climbed the Staircase.  What has that to do with me?”

“
Kari, I’m sure you would like to think your future is fully yours to control.  You are not the first mage I’ve seen who thinks they can control everything—it is a curse of your talent that you think you can bend circumstances to fit your interest the same way you can bend light, sound, smell, taste, and touch to create illusions all around you.  I find this particularly difficult for many would-be Illusionists to accept, because you shape everything in your mind.  But believe me when I tell you that in the final analysis, we all control precious little, and the choices of others affect us greatly.  And yes, it appears as if Magi will indeed climb the Staircase.  But that choice of his may not be the one that affects your path, either.”  Elsa did not elaborate.

Kari guessed she knew
exactly
what Elsa was implying.  Her eyes flashed and she stood up.  “Elsa, I like Magi.  Who wouldn’t, ok?  But it’s not like he defines me or anyone else.  I don’t
need
him.  What I
need
is to get out of Brigg—I want to see the world!  This is the farthest away from the village that I’ve ever been.  If you’re telling me to sit around and wait for him to get back from Shith to see what he wants—”

Elsa rescued her
, interrupting.  “First of all, I never said anything about waiting.  And second of all, your destiny is not the only one tied to this man’s choices.  As I said—it would be foolish to think that your future is completely unrelated to the choices others make.  Much of our destinies are outside our own control, Kari.  But third and most importantly, take heart when I tell you that you are destined for much more than just Magi’s companionship.”

Hearing it out loud…
companionship with Magi…there was something attractive about that path as well, however, if I’m being totally honest. 
“Elsa, just tell me what I should do about the Staircase.”  Kari sighed, pushing her hand through her thick hair like she always did when she felt exasperated.

Elsa smiled.  She tried to look comforting, but it was impossible to look comforting or matronly or motherly with her face and features.  It was a just a smile.  Still, she tried,
and said, “Kari, what has your Master told you of the three Artifacts of the Ancients?”

Huh?
  “Mistress?  What did you say?  Artifacts?  Nothing—should he have?”  Kari asked

“The three Artifacts of the Ancients.  We saw
symbols representing them during your prophetic vision—I wondered if you knew anything about them.  Apparently not.”  She refilled her glass.

“So.  Let me share with you the story.  It has been said that Quixatalor had two friends
—a True Warrior named Ajax and a True Cleric named Windomere.  You’ve heard of Quixatalor, of course?”  Elsa paused when she saw the blank look on Kari’s face.  “Surely Marik told you about Quixatalor?  The greatest of our order who ever lived?  The man who found a way to even keep Death waiting himself?”

“Oh, yes.  Quixaterlorish.  Yes, of course I’ve heard of
him.
”  Kari lied. 
This is where I’m supposed to get all the answers?

Elsa took a deep breath and called Tarsh in from the cold outside.  After getting him something warm to drink, she sat back down.  “Well
—we may need a little history lesson.  Since this doesn’t directly relate to Kari’s prophecy, I can tell you both, and frankly I would just assume tell this story once.  As I’ve made clear, it is quite pointless to lie to a True Mage gifted in the Art of Prophecy.  It would be like me trying to fool you with illusion, my dear.  You would see the images differently, a lack of shadow, an unusual color combination—it would be pointless.  So, let me ask both of you—have you ever heard of the Archmage Quixatalor?”

“No
,” they answered, both looking at each other.

“Curious
,” Elsa remarked.  “In any event, let me fill in a little history for you both.  Quixatalor was and is the greatest True Mage to have ever graced our realm.  He was good and kind and wise.  An advisor to Kings and Rulers.  He served King Reginald the Third, his son Torbeth the First, and his son Absynth the Weak.  After the great dwarven revolt, Karwin (who some called Karwin the Short) became the first Warlord.  A century later, Karwin was overthrown by another Warlord, Roc-San.  Through it all, Quixatalor advised.  He lived more than 350 years, and I guarantee you, it’s not because he was Elven.  He found a way to cheat Death.  Whatever spell he designed to do this has been lost to antiquity.

“Quixatalor is known for three things: Number One
—he established the tradition of young mages getting their fortunes told as a prerequisite to climbing the Staircase.  My sect of the True Mages has certainly benefitted greatly from his faith in our prophetic abilities.  Number Two—he was known for his long life.  As I’ve said, no man and few Elves have ever lived longer.  A quest to find his secrets continue to this very day.  Number Three—and this is the most relevant for you both to know—Quixatalor possessed a wonderful staff.  It was called the Staff of Insight.  Oh, it was an effective weapon for striking by one trained in such things.  But its power was not as a blunt instrument.  You see this Staff granted its owner unmatched insight.  It is said that the Staff allowed its owner to see things as they truly were.  You could not lie to Quixatalor.  You could not fool him.  You could not cast an illusion or weave a falsehood.  You could not hide your true motivations.  Even if your opinion on a matter was true—if it wasn’t
completely true
, the Staff would know.  Imagine the power to know every half-truth, to know when someone is motivated by selfish interests rather than the good of the village or the city or the kingdom?  Imagine always knowing what your councilors
really
think?  You can see why Quixatalor was invaluable as an advisor to the King or Warlord.  Nobody could hide any truth from the King, and all opinions, even the unpopular ones, were always voiced whenever Quixatalor was around.  Because he’d know if anyone disagreed.  Not that some didn’t test him, of course.  Rumors spread like wildfire after a few informants tried to pass the Warlord Karwin false information… and lost hands, feet, tongues—you name it—for their falsehoods.  It is no secret that Quixatalor’s power helped the Dwarven king reign over men for a hundred years.  It soon became clear that no man could lie or withhold information from any ruler in Quixatalor’s presence.”

Elsa took yet a
nother long drink and saw their faces, rapt with attention.  She smiled and continued.  “That staff—the Staff of Insight—is one of Three Artifacts of the Ancients.  Two others exist.  The second is the Shield of Life, capable of warding off evil spells and dark prayers.  It was first worn by the Great Windomere, a contemporary of Quixatalor.  He was a True Cleric, and he served Absynthe the Weak during the Rebellion.  We don’t know what happened to his Shield, but it was said that Quixatalor himself had a hand in creating it.  The third artifact is the Blade of Justice, which is capable of killing anything.  As long as the owner can lay eyes on their adversary, the blade may be thrown or used like a long dagger or very short sword.  No armor can blunt the blade, and no magical spells can protect the victim.  If thrown, it always will return, flying back to its owner’s hand.  It does not miss, and it never goes missing.  It is an instrument of killing, one life at a time.  Another contemporary of Quixatalor wielded this blade—the Great True Warrior Ajax, who reportedly was a mercenary that served Karwin and helped overthrow Absynthe.

“
This all dates back to the time when there were True Clerics, of course.  None exist now that we know of.  The worship of Dymetra or of that demon, Kuth-Cergor, fell out of favor long ago.  And with the disappearance of True Clerics, nobody knows what ever happened to the Shield of Life, or the Blade of Justice, either.  But like the Staff…people look for it.  Oh, do they ever.”

She stood up.  “And now, Tarsh, this is where I must ask you to leave.  You may stay at my guest house, some distance further along the trail.  I have more to discuss with young Kari here, but I’m afraid it relates to her Prophe
cy.  We will have to do yours tomorrow; I suspect my discussions with Kari will stretch a bit further tonight…”

As soon as Tarsh left, Elsa sat down next to Kari.  “You asked me what to do.  I cannot tell you what to do.  But I am not without some advice.”

Kari just looked at her, not wishing to interrupt.  Elsa smiled and continued.

“I told you that story because the time is fast approaching when I see that these Artifacts must be found.  To what purpose, and who finds them, is a different question.

“You, like all the others, come to seek guidance about the Staircase, and it is healthy for you to do so.  In your case, I think you will have options—options to Climb…or not.  I don’t sense failure, but it may not be your destiny, either.  Your destiny is also caught up with the Artifacts, Kari.”

“And so is Magi’s?” she asked, a little curious, a little hopeful.
 
The image of her and Magi on a quest for ancient objects was incredibly enticing.

“You know I can’t discuss another mage’s prophecy
, but as you’ve gone to great pains this evening to point out—you wish to decouple your fate from his.  I am here to say that while your paths are linked in some ways, it may not be in the way you imagine.  Your calling, however, may be wholly different.”

Kari leaned closer, cocking her head slightly.  “How so?”

Elsa smiled, and the gold in her eyes seemed to glow.  “My advice to you, Kari, is to travel to Rookwood, to meet our Queen.  For you will need her help.”

She leaned closer still.  “Help with what?”

“Options, Kari.  You seek to control your future.  Very well—it appears you shall have quite the choice to make.  You may choose to climb the Staircase…but you may also choose to become a True Cleric of Dymetra, Kari, one of the first new ones worshipping Her in hundreds of years.  And please tell me that I don’t need to tell you who
She
is tonight as well.”

~Magi~

Lake Calm was aptly named.  The shoreline butted up against the great Elven forest of Filestelas
. 
The Crystal Mountains in the west also formed a boundary.  Whatever the geological reason, it was just plain eerie. 
I wonder if anything lives in this water
was Magi’s first thought when they emerged from the forest to stare across the lake’s vast expanse.  It was a cloudy afternoon on the day they arrived at the water’s edge, and everything looked grey, which did nothing to improve his mood.

How is he alive
—the question still plagued him.  The more he thought about it, the less it made sense and the fouler he became, biting Kyle and Marik’s head off over the slightest thing.  Soon they took the hint, and the three of them hiked in silence.

He kept turning over the
Elf’s words, but could not unfurl much of anything besides the surprise that his father lived…and that he should Climb.  Everything else was a mystery.