The Adventures of the Peculiar Enchanter: Paths to Redemption

The Adventures of the Peculiar Enchanter

Paths to Redemption

 

Clothes torn and dishevelled, with colours dreary and drab. His head was crowned by quite the mess of hair, far too overgrown and unkempt for any tasteful gentleman learnt in the latest fashions. His face was wilder still, covered in dirt and scratches that betrayed a disinterest in shielding oneself; but even more so than that, bearing a pained expression that could however at the same time shoot someone dead with its glare. Evidently he preferred to be left alone and the presence of others brought on much too much disagreeableness for the liking of anyone. He walked on and on in quite the unreasonable trek with little rhyme or reason and barely remembered to manage for the necessities of life every now and then when it become painfully unavoidable to notice such needs. Most of the time such travels brought him to all sorts of corners of the country, but on such occasions that he did encounter an unassuming soul, he would simply give the poor fellow a few melancholic and cross looks mixed in with some surprise and then would continue along his way ignoring them beyond that much. Overall, Wiz Ardon looked positively frightful and the rumours, unsurprisingly, of an apparition travelling the land were aplenty.

As to why and how the young man came to be in this rather sorry state, there is little question to be had among those who are aware of the past occurrences of his life, though hardly did they come to meet him in that time. It is quite agreed upon by all who knew him that the event of Geidrich the Azure’s death, under whom Ardon apprenticed once, was the root to this fall. But it would be wise perhaps to inform the happenings from the beginning.

Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter (talk)***---***Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter (talk)

On the fated night of mischief, Wiz was driven to a panic and mayhap even a fit of hysteria. The madness crept on to him slowly as he had not as of yet at the time of the assailant’s disappearance processed all the implications of the event, but it must have surely worked on him since then and Wiz operated under its influence. For a few moments, he stood there simply on top of the tower, rigid as stone, unable to understand what had just happened, refusing to understand it. But once some time had passed and he was pressed to address what he had just witnessed, he could only come to the conclusion that Geidrich couldn’t possibly be dead.

And that was a definite sign of his sickness that was slowly overtaking him that he held on to such hope still; and it was perhaps done through some instinct of increasing itself, for surely as soon as his hopes were betrayed, that they ever existed would make things a lot worse than if he had already started to accept the fact before the confirmation. But Wiz was in such state that despite knowing inside of him that no wizard whose will has been broken so that they may be thrown has power any more to break the fall, he lied to himself incessantly that Geidrich was one of the greatest of his age and he must have definitely survived through his sheer power.

These thoughts occupied his mind feverishly as he stepped down the stairs in rapid pace, almost in a frenzy. And also he remembered the look of their assailant’s malicious face and the self-satisfaction with which it wordlessly accused him of everything. And that in its way, reminded him of his parents and past events surrounding them and the life he once had with them. He of course pushed away these thoughts as much as he could, for of course they could not matter, since Geidrich was alive after all; but they still trudged on in the back of his mind, preparing his madness even more, for they would be crucial to the explosion that Wiz would inevitably come to.

He reached the foot of the tower and retracing his way through the battlefield that had been left behind by the duelling magicians held a new shock for him. It somehow seemed so long ago since that had happened, even though it had been just now and the remembrance came painfully back to him, because it reminded him of how much more human his master was instead of the infallible mentor that cannot be thrown off his pedestal that he was supposed to be.

The castle had also reverted to a quiet, calm state beyond just returning to the silence of peace. The sense of magic and Geidrich’s presence that once had filled every ounce of the manor was now quite diminished or diminishing still, in a rather dramatic fashion though – for such shift was too unnatural even considering the facts–, almost as though the castle was mourning itself. Wiz ignored that as well, but it did not fail to add to his dreadful premonition hanging on the back of his head and as such the contradiction of his mind that so much worsened his instability.

Once he was out in the open, he felt the cold breeze on his face, but it was not refreshing to him. It rather held the touch of death, grasping at his heart and making him shudder. He continued with determination to discover what was to be discovered. He wondered at this point why was it that Geidrich had not gotten up yet to return and meet him, but he was forced to admit that even his master might be forced to sustain some injury as the result of a battle like this.

The tower now came before him that he had just been on and once he turned around it, the second tower would come into view and also the spot where Geidrich must have landed. In just one more moment, he would see. Two blue flowers reflected the light of the moon in the night. They looked beautiful. Next to them, the broken body of Geidrich lay. Glass eyes were looking out through broken glass on a bloodied face. The expression carved on it, now for evermore, was not one of fear, but it was rather melancholic. Certainly not peaceful.

Wiz stared for a few moments as he continued to approach. Then, he let out a most inhuman cry of despair. Finally, it all came down crashing on him and he could not ignore the truth any longer. The sight was not at all pretty and that did not help at all to his disposition. Turmoil overcame him and all the ugly thoughts he’d tried to keep at bay now flooded him at once.

Failure! Useless! Root of the evil! Danger to others! Irredeemable! Hopeless! No future! It was a whirlwind of notions that both confused him and made many things clear to him and its effects would not let on for a lot of time after. He himself did not understand quite what he understood in that moment, but it would slowly unravel to him as time came in more coherent and conscious manner. His realisations would govern him too long and feed his madness.

But some moments later, the chaos seemed to clear and make way for some different impressions. He suddenly received an urge to touch the dead man. It was not out of intent to confirm even further the health of the corpse or lack thereof; he had at that point come to accept there was nothing else to conclude from the image than passing. No, rather than that, it was out of a sickly attraction to the dead and a morbid curiosity. And indeed if he had caved in to that desire, he might have laid down along with the dead and relinquish himself to death then and there, and join his master. But another, stronger feeling prevailed.

For at the same time as that, Wiz felt a strong sense of disgust and repulsion looking at the body. He couldn’t stand to gaze at it any longer and it brought horror to him, sending shivers down his body. His fever in that moment must have come to its peak, even more so than when he first eyed the dreadful sight, and driven out of his wits, all the young man could do was turn tail and run. Run away forever, to not face the unbearable any more.

As he escaped the premises, a rage came onto him, returned to him rather as it had been delayed for a little after his scream to allow for mourning, but now Wiz let his head be clouded once again. It was a rather aimless anger, targeted at himself and the assailant as much as it was targeted at the world and no one. It showed, as his rage spilled out of him and struck all around him indiscriminately at whatever might or might not pass.

Thoughtlessly he wandered from then on, seeking in the woods not for something specific, but rather for nothing. If he had found a hole of emptiness then, he might have jumped in, not out of a desire to disappear, but because in the dangerous lack of reflection he had allowed himself, he would be attracted to its similarity. He found no such hole, though, and he continued to loiter and roaming with no purpose, letting his emotions rampant and carrying his rage all over. It was a perilous disposition for once you give up yourself to your wild emotions, pushing away the thought of the reality you dread, it is much too easy to continue along that path and much too difficult to come to your senses; for it will have to be more painful at first, even though it might be healthier on the long run.

But such moods do not tend to stretch on forever unless a full madness comes upon someone, for they required to be fuelled constantly to channel such emotions and even the most sturdy will eventually grow tired. The tears will drain and leave an empty feeling behind of a different nature. Much like that, at some point, Wiz came to pass out, though perhaps not for the first time, and upon waking up he no longer had the energy to keep up the show.

Upon coming to his senses, he was not quite aware of how long it had been since he had left the castle. Perhaps, he had held his madness for days, but maybe it was even more. He was only aware of the dreadful feeling of being lost –in more ways than one– and not knowing what to do from there on. At the very least, he considered, he could explore his surroundings to find out where he was.

Apparently, he had very sensible timing in his lack of sense to have happened to pass out when he would fall on the stack of hay that he seemed to be situated on at the moment. He appeared to be in some kind of barn, though that didn’t much enlighten Wiz as to his general whereabouts beyond that he was far from the castle as he knew no one who lived close to it, especially no farmers. With a pang of guilt he noticed that additionally a wall seemed to be missing from the barn, quite violently removed with splinters all around as further proof of the destruction.

“Oh, you’re awake, didn’t expect you to rise so soon, you looked so tired in the night, poor creature”, a voice came along with the woman to whom it belonged. She came in through the large gap he’d formed during his rampage, carrying a tray of food.

“You look quite starved, you poor thing. I tried to feed you some while you were passed out yesterday, but I was only able to make you sip some water and wine in the end”.

She looked a rather simple woman, an old wife like any other, the kind you would find all over the country. Her clothing was quite common and if there was anything remarkable on her it was perhaps the ring on the fourth finger of her right hand –but that too was quite normal of a woman in her middle age to possess, if a little too rich in its specific design compared to its environment.

As the woman came close and set the tray aside of him. Wiz pointed at the hole in the barn and made to speak, intending to apologise, but he found his throat was too dry for the endeavour. Apparently, the water he’d had in the night had not been enough. The woman seized the opportunity of his surprise at his inability to speak to push him back down on the makeshift bed of hay.

“Stay down now mister. It will do you no good to exert yourself so and lose all the strength your nap earned you. I dare say it would have done you more good to sleep on a proper bed, but what was I to do, you’d gone and collapsed in the middle of my barn and I did not wish to disturb you so, by bringing you all the way in the house. So, I simply moved you to the haystack. At the very least, it would serve as a better bed than the ground”, she seemed to be rather the talker, but then she went silent for a bit to fetch something from the tray, “Here have a drink first”.

Wiz was not very much inclined to being pampered, let alone letting people offer him food and drink to his mouth directly. However, he accepted it nonetheless for he desperately needed refreshment of his thirst and he couldn’t object anyway. The woman proceeded to try and feed him after that, but at last Wiz’s pride prevailed and he picked up the food himself.

He did not speak still as even after the dryness began to go away, he felt another stopgap preventing him. What did he have to say to this woman really? Perhaps, he had better stay silent. He was in no mood of talking, one way or the other. However, as he ate fervently in response to the intense hollowness of his stomach, the woman watched him with questioning eyes.

“What has stricken you, laddie, to be in such famish? Your old clothes –I beg your pardon for the indiscretion, but I took the liberty to change you out of those rags and into something warmer–” Wiz only now took notice of the fact his clothes were different; after all he had so little memory of the days past that it didn’t occur to him to compare with what he should have been wearing, “although tattered, they seemed like they were expensive once. Where did you come from, boy?”

Wiz did not answer. He would not speak of that subject, even if he was more talkative at the time. The recent events might have felt numb to him after waking up, but they still hurt to think. They were still too complicated to explain to a stranger.

“Cat got your tongue? Or do you not speak at all? Well, I don’t know what brings you here, but you’re welcome to stay. I need to go now and see to the animals. If you have strength enough to walk, come to the house proper after you’re done with your meal”.

The woman walked out and Wiz watched her back. She was sweet. Maybe too sweet. Wiz had half a mind to just leave then. There was a certain guilt associated with letting someone take care of him. He, Wiz Ardon, did not deserve it. It was more than likely he would bring trouble her way in fact. That was more than any unassuming kind soul bargained for, surely.

But there was also a certain warmth to her, an irresistible warmth, much like what feelings he associated with the care of a mother. His mother… Could he be able to receive the same for her right now? Perhaps not. There were certain advantages to not being known by the people he was with. His mother would be worried sick about him for sure. She must have found out by now what had happened. But she and his father also would be prepared with a set full of questions he did not want the answers for. If he stayed with this woman for just a little, he could forget all that for a while longer. He could possibly repay her troubles somehow.

Once his meal was finished, it turned out he could walk after all. He made it out of the barn, carrying the tray with him. Two more buildings, of the same wooden material, stood next to it, residence of humans and animals respectively, he presumed. As he walked to the middle one, he felt the cool weather with a touch of humidity on his face. Clouds were convening on the sky above them.

The house was not very big. He walked inside to find it, as he quickly confirmed, silent and empty of people. He had expected the woman would not have returned just yet, but he was a little surprised not to find anyone else. On the other hand, though, country folk were always quite active and surely there were many jobs to be done in a farm. He discovered the kitchen and left the tray and its contents there. After he did not know what to do. The house was cosy enough and full of things, but he had nothing to do with any of them or knew how to in many cases. In the end, he simply resigned himself to move a chair close to the entrance and wait there.

A while later, the woman returned with sweat on the brow and a bottle filled with something –milk presumably. She saw him sitting there and her eyes lighted up.

“Oh there you are dear! What are you doing sitting there waiting? You had to go and choose the most uncomfortable chair to boot. Come come, I dare say an armchair by the fire is much more comfortable”.

She led him deeper inside the house where she placed Wiz on an armchair by the hearth, which was currently fireless, but the woman intended to amend that soon.

“It looks like rain. It’s just as well, for the crops might have died off without it. It’s so difficult to predict the weather and the seasons these days. And it rather confuses the animals, too. Beth has been making such less milk and I can tell by the troubled look she gives me, too. And the chickens, too, it is a record low for how small their eggs are. Whoever went up and blew us all up, I’d like a word with ‘em, that’s for sure. For I tell you, the earth’s been staying here fine and sure for years now more than I, my grandmother and her grandmother together can count. And yet it suddenly goes and loses it all on its own? I think not. Someone had a hand in it, a dirty hand I say. Only I don’t know who it is, so I cannot send ‘em my grievances”.

At that point, the fire properly flared up, so the woman no longer had to consider whom she had to contact to file her complaint.

“Stay by the fireplace now. It’ll get cold with the rain, but the fire will keep you warm. If you need anything more, don’t hesitate to shout, though I’m afraid I might not hear you out in the fields. If I don’t come, feel free to search the house for it yourself”.

And as quickly as that, Wiz was left alone once again. He was content to simply lie on his armchair and let sleep take him, for a few more hours on end. When he woke up, he was feeling hungry again, but felt no motivation to change that. He had the presence of mind to notice the difference of a blanket covering him now, meaning the woman must have checked on him at least once, but was indifferent to most anything else. He shifted in place for a more comfortable position and then went back to sleep.

On his second awakening, the day had already gone dark. He’d measured before how long that meant, in this world, he must have slept, but he couldn’t for his life for it remember the number now. It didn’t matter anyway, so he stopped thinking about it after a while. He stirred and removed the blanket, feeling that sleep had left him completely at that point, but the movement alerted the woman whom he hadn’t noticed in the room.

“You must be very tired. How long did you walk before you got here? Hmm… Are you perhaps come from the Wizard’s castle? But that’s many leagues away and through some mountains”.

So, she wasn’t totally clueless about him. It made sense. The people in that region would know about Geidrich, even if they did not live very close to him.

“Still silent, I see. I know you understand me, but if you don’t want to talk, I can’t force you. Just know that whatever’s troubling you won’t solve itself by you sitting there and sulking”.

Wiz knew that. But he was also uncertain if it could solve itself somehow else. Yeah… that’s what was getting him so depressed. He felt helpless.

“Ol’ Gertrude will listen to your troubles if you decide to speak, though. You can stay here till you feel better, Lord bless you, but remember that ol’ Gertrude can’t heal you all by herself”.

Wiz watched her curiously. He wondered why was it that she was being so kind to him. He understood basic human compassion, but that woman –Gertrude– was being way too interested in his well-being and whole recovery, body and mind. He pondered on the question a few moments, but then noticed something amiss.

“It’s really coming down”, Gertrude noted, looking out a window, blurred by the rain’s shower. “Anyway, will you have supper?”

As she did, Wiz’s eyes fell on the ring she was wearing. In turning around, the woman noticed his gaze and what it was focused on, so she spoke, “You are curious about this? Isn’t it a pretty thing? My husband gave it to me. Always the romantic he is”.

Wiz gave her a questioning stare.

“You wonder about my husband? He used to be here with me, but he left to fight in the war and he hasn’t come back yet”.

That confirmed his suspicions then. Wiz had first assumed there would be more people living in the farm, but he’d seen no one but the woman the whole day. The ring had been the last piece of evidence of the existence of more people and that was explained now. The woman lived alone. Perhaps, it was the lack of human contact that led her to be so hospitable a host.

As they ate in silence, he thought of how lonely it must be to live in such a big place all alone. And tiring. He couldn’t imagine how much work tending to the farm required. And here he was adding more load on the woman without contributing at all himself. He continued having such thoughts, eventually shifting to reflections on his own predicament and how he was just as hopeless in general, upon going to bed. Quickly, though, he fell into an uneasy rest and the thoughts turned into dreams haunting him in his sleep.

It only occurred to him later that there had been no war in Argenturegnum for years and that he wasn’t quite which one the woman could be referring to.

The next day, he woke up in a bad mood –though admittedly he was always in a bad mood these days. Even so, he got up quickly and sought out Gertrude. He found a glass of milk along with some bread and butter, but the woman herself was not in the house. He ate the breakfast hastily, though a certain pride was gradually growing back in him that he shouldn’t so easily accept one’s handouts to him. After that, he went out to look for the woman once again.

The rain had reduced to a drizzle, but the humidity in both air and ground was still very present. There was mud everywhere he stepped and puddles of water in frequent intervals. Soon, his feet had been completely dirtied, while the rest of him was quite drenched.

Gertrude was not to be found in either of the barns, so Wiz then looked in the fields, behind the house. There, he saw the woman working the land despite the weather. But also he noticed a large patch of purple that spread over a big part of the fields. He approached the woman and pointed at it enquiringly.

“Oh, you’re here laddie? Best you keep indoors lest you catch a cold. You wanna know about the goo? Quite the mischief it is. It appeared a while ago, all on its own I reckon, and it killed half of my crops, it did. Can’t get it off or it burns. Very nasty”.

Wiz could tell that the substance was of the chaotic essence that had been released upon the explosion of the planet. He’d heard about its spreading potency, mostly in the Wizarding Conference, but he hadn’t actually seen it for himself. The concept was definitely concerning, but Wiz couldn’t bring himself to care much beyond what he could see before his eyes.

With no words, he moved to stand before the purple patch and pointed his arms at it. He prepared to cast a spell in order to remove it… but then the spell never came. He couldn’t bring himself to do any magic. After a few moments of standing still, he put his arms down and looked around himself. He found a shovel and picked it up.

Gertrude, who had been watching him curiously in silence until then, finally spoke up, “That’s not gonna do any good. It burns anything it touches”.

Wiz didn’t listen to her, though, and he started shovelling nonetheless. Despite all expectation, nothing happened to the shovel. Rather, Wiz managed to pick up the goo in order to move it outside of the fields. It was slow and arduous work and the constant touch of the cold rain on the back of his neck did not help, but he was satisfied with it. As long as he could do something to help, he didn’t feel like a burden. On top of that, the exercise felt therapeutic and kept his mind off things. Gertrude looked amazed at first, but as soon as the shock subsided she seemed to accept it and let Wiz work.

They worked like that for hours, together but in silence, taking few and short breaks. In the end, however, the rain picked back up again in the evening and they had to retreat back to the safety of the house.

“Good work today”, Gertrude complimented as she covered Wiz and herself in blankets. “At this pace, you should have the fields cleared in about a week… If you stay that long of course”.

Wiz didn’t say anything to that, although he felt the implied question in that sentence, and merely resorted to moving his armchair closer to the fire. Gertrude, however, did not give up that easily and continued more straightforwardly.

“Do you think you’ll stay long? Do you have any plans at all? Gertrude doesn’t mind housing you, but don’t you have a home to go back to? Isn’t it about time you start thinking about ‘em?”

Wiz thought the woman assumed too much about what he was or wasn’t thinking, but felt guilt pulling at his strings nonetheless as she had not been that wrong. He had been avoiding the thought of his parents. Though they weren’t his only home, a sudden thought popped into his head. The castle had also been his home until recently and he realised now, that home wasn’t entirely lost yet. Agnise was still out there. He was surprised at himself and how long it had taken him to remember her. Would she be at Farmer Hahm’s now, worried about what had happened to him and Geidrich or would someone have informed her of… what happened. Yeah… that happened. Sometimes he forgot all about it. He always felt the effects of it to himself, but the incident itself slipped from his mind. He forgot why he was unhappy. He didn’t need to remember. He was just unhappy. Thinking about it just made it worse.

“Do you wish for Gertrude to look after you till you’re better? Till you’re ready to say you’ll go back?”

No, I don’t wish that. I can take care of myself, Wiz thought to himself.

“Ol’ Gertrude is happy to have a guest, for however long it takes, but it’d comfort me better if you told me you’re willing to go back in the end. If so, Gertrude can take responsibility till then with my mind at ease”.

Wiz did not speak. The concept of returning to his family without shame one day sounded good. But he did not want to depend on that woman. What good would it do if he did not solve it by himself? Could he really go back without shame if that was the case? He had to do it himself. He wasn’t sure, though, what it was he was supposed to be doing. Such thoughts and thoughts of Agnise, in his mind tormented, accompanied him to sleep.

The next day, he woke to the sudden yell of Gertrude. As soon as he was awake, he was also aware of the mayhem going on outside. The rain had turned into a storm and the downpour was the worst Wiz had seen in years. Certain areas were flooding outside and drops of water were dripping in through the roof. There was no light despite the morning.

“The barns!” Gertrude exclaimed and ran to fetch her coat.

Wiz made to follow her, but she stopped at the door and turned to him, “No, you’d better stay inside now”.

He did not want to listen, but she gave him a stern look and it occurred to him that there wasn’t much he could do to help anyway. He let her go. Immediately he started worrying what might happen to the middle-aged woman in the storm. Sure, she must have been used to this kind of life, but there must be a limit. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d hear of people dying in a storm.

He only lasted a few minutes. A few excruciating minutes during which the rain raged ever on and he heard no signs of the woman. A woman whom he had just met, but for whom he’d acquired a fondness nonetheless. Out he went into the storm despite warning.

It took him some time to find Gertrude for his vision did not reach very far and the rain and muddied water made his progress slow. At last, he came upon the woman near the barn where her animals were kept, mud up to her knees, struggling with a large cloth against the wind.

“Give it up, you need to come inside”, Wiz felt himself about to be whisked away from the gales, let alone Gertrude.

“I can’t! I need to cover the coop!” her voice could be barely heard.

“It won’t be any good, if you die in the process!” Wiz yelled even louder.

“I can’t let them!”

“Fine!”

Wiz rushed by the woman and the coop as best he could against the downpour. He grabbed the cloth from the other side and forced it down, as if through sheer will defying the weather, and over the coop.

“Do you have any nails?”

“Yes, over here!” Gertrude pointed to a pouch by her belt along with a small hammer.

Suddenly, the nails flew out of the pouch and onto the cloth, piecing themselves together into the right locations as directed by his imagination. Normally, Wiz doubted the nails would be enough to keep the cover in place, but he hoped that the reinforcement he’d just given them would keep the construct intact through the storm.

“Are you ready now?”

Wiz didn’t hear a reply, but he took that as assent. He jumped over the coop, grabbed the woman and practically carried her. Going back into the house, both of their clothes were drenched and dirty all over. They spent the next while, changing into new ones (though the woman did not have many more that weren’t already wet), shivering and trying to get themselves warm again. They did not speak much –Wiz did not speak at all–, but were satisfied to keeping silent company to each other, while waiting for the storm to blow over. Wiz no longer felt at ease, however, in society of the woman.

She never asked about the act he’d performed in fixing the cloth. She probably thought it magic, although it wasn’t quite that. Either way, Wiz was grateful she didn’t ask, but it become one further reason he wanted to leave now.

The day passed slowly. Eventually, Gertrude fell into sleep. Wiz did not rest at all. The next day, the skies cleared out. So, he set out.

The sun had barely risen. The dew was still in the air. It was a pretty morning. Wiz was walking downcast. Before he could get too far, though, the woman caught up with him.

“You try to leave without even a goodbye? Is it such sour parting you wish for us?” she said.

Wiz stopped on his tracks, but he was silent.

“You don’t need to leave though. We can still live together. For as long as it takes. If you leave now, I know you won’t be fine. Stay with me until you can promise you will be better. And I’ll take responsibility”.

Was it perhaps a trick of the rising sun’s rays? A light seemed to come from Gertrude’s face, from her forehead. But Wiz was in darkness. He couldn’t turn to face her.

“But I can’t let you face the consequences of my responsibilities”, Wiz finally spoke. “This rain. It wasn’t natural. It came because of me. You suffered because of me. I do not deserve your help. And I must take responsibility myself. I can’t give it to others. For whatever comes next, I must face it myself”.

“If you leave now, you will only fail. Will you still go?”

“I must. One way or another, it is my pill to swallow. If I don’t do it now myself, I will lose all agency I’m sure. It must be under my terms, I fix things or they’ll never be truly fixed”.

“Don’t go”

Wiz walked on.

Farmer Hahm’s farm was a long distance away and he had to orient himself first, too. Nonetheless, he found and walked all the way with a strange determination to see it all through. The first thing in his mind was Agnise. He had to find out how she was and see what was to be done with her. That thought drove him all the way to the farm of Geidrich’s old friend.

Hahm’s fields were quite dry as if they hadn’t seen rain for days. That was just as well for it made his progress through them faster. At last, the little cottage came into view. However, Wiz’s vision blurred as he looked at it and it appeared distorted to him. Strange sights showed up before him and the little cottage looked to him like a great dark tower of impeding doom. And yet he knew it was the cottage that should be standing there, so the two visions clashed and contrasted with each other. Despite the dizziness, he persevered.

Would Agnise really be clueless about this all? He was worried she might not have learnt of the recent events, but realistically speaking perhaps he had overlooked some facts. Unmistakably, Mardolf must have found out pretty quickly what had happened. And Mardolf had also met Agnise and knew of Farmer Hahm. Chances were he had made his way there long before Wiz to inform the girl, maybe even take her away. Even if she was not there, though, Wiz had to go and make sure.

He reached the door. He could hear voices on the other end. Farmer Hahm lived alone normally. For there to be talking, Agnise must be inside. But if Agnise had talked with Mardolf then chances are if he met her, she would tell Mardolf. If Mardolf found him, what would he say? Did he have the guts to face him right now? Mardolf, the man who had delivered him in this life, now come to take him away from it?

He placed his hand at the door, ready to push. But Mardolf surely would bring him back to Burkborrow. Return him to his parents. He wouldn’t let Wiz wander like he had been. He wanted to meet his parents, right? He’d decided to face his responsibilities. But when the time came, what would he tell them? Would he even be able to stay with them? He didn’t want to. He felt repulsive and by extension everyone else became repulsive to him. He could not stand them.

He pushed the door just a crack. He could just barely peek inside.

What would he even say to Agnise? Was there anything to be told? Surely, he couldn’t do anything for her. He was a mess himself. A failure, a peril to all. That’s right. What if he came to hurt her, too? He’d already hurt so many. Geidrich was his fault. And his bad luck pursued him still. No, he was the bad luck. He wanted to run away and crawl somewhere in a hole never to be found again, he was cursed the world hated him and he hated the world he could not bear be seen he could not bear see others just let him be JUST LET HIM BE!

Wiz didn’t even realise for a few moments that he was running. Running where? Who knows? Who cares? Just run. There is no place for him to be anyway. Might as well be nowhere.

Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter (talk)***---***Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter (talk)

After that, Wiz ran as far as he could. When he no longer could run, he walked. And when he no longer could walk, he dropped to the ground and slept. When he awoke, he continued. Again and again, the pattern repeated, though eventually he grew dull and his progress through the landscape became slow, as he sluggishly put one foot after another. When at last, he grew too thirsty too ignore, he found a stream to drink from. When he grew too hungry, he found fruit or hunted small animals with a wild gleam on his eyes.

More than anything it was important he keep walking. He had no destination, no purpose, but if he ever stopped he fear something terrible would happen. So, he kept going and going. Through forest, valley and mountain.

Eventually, after a long time, he reached the end of the world, where the planet chunk had broken apart from the others. That did not sway him, however, and he started walking by the edge, unconcerned as to where he was going. At last, he came up to a spot, hard to notice, but definitely there, where a stream rose from the world and into space, carrying air and water from it to wherever it led. Almost unwittingly, Wiz jumped into it and let himself be carried by the current.

It took him through space, but he was safe within its limits. Whether the hidden network of currents that connected the many worlds of Crux was made by the Mythrans, the old guardians of the Nexus,

or some other greater force, was unknown. However, Wiz knew of its existence for Geidrich had studied it for the purposes of teleportation from one world to another. He let it take him to the next place, whatever it was, in some ways so welcoming to him in that Geidrich’s castle was not housed on it. But more than anything, he just wanted to keep moving constantly.

When he finally arrived in the next world, he found it to be smaller, but more densely populated. He avoided the people, as best he could, but when he saw them they appeared to him as no more than shadows,

like mere wisps of smoke, phantoms from another plane that he could not speak to. He fled from them regardless. In the end, he learnt to drive them away with his scowl, although his constantly deteriorating appearance also helped.

And thus in incurable melancholy he wandered on, not knowing how to deal with his depression. He searched for something, but he did not know what he searched for. And when that world had been thoroughly explored, he moved to the next and then the one after that and so on and so on. Days became weeks, weeks became months and Wiz made no notice of them at all. He simply continued.

Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter (talk)***---***Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter (talk)

As the seasons passed many changes happened both without and to a certain degree within Wiz. On one occasion, for instance, the young man was forced to notice the ways in which the force of Chaos was evolving. He might have missed it otherwise or that is to say he probably did prior to that, but when he basically bumped into this new form, even he had to pay heed to it. It was through rather simple circumstances. He just happened to step on it while walking. Immediately, his shoe began to melt away and his foot started hurting.

Looking down, he saw two soulless red pupils staring back at him. It barely had shape, merely a blob of the same black and purple half-liquid, half-solid substance that was already spreading through the Crux system. But a head or rather something like one seemed to be growing out of it, its eyes being the only distinct feature of it. It had no limbs and thus did not seem capable of movement, but Wiz had stepped right into it and was now facing the consequences. He removed the leg out of it, but then he saw that wisps of purple were rising from the skin of his foot which had taken an ugly grey-purple colour. He stared at it menacingly and it went back to normal.

The world was changing, he thought, and he was being left behind. He felt the need to do something about it. Then, he started walking again. The small creature didn’t follow him, for it couldn’t.

His travels brought him to the sea once and he looked at its waves and its uneasy surface, so unlike what the picture books showed or what he’d imagined as a child. But the sight did not soothe him. It did not seem wondrous to him as it had in another time. It might have looked immense once, but now Wiz cynically thought that despite appearances the whole body of water was in fact contained in a relatively small chunk of earth. There wasn’t much majestic about that. A truly endless sea would have drawn him more. Thus, he left.

He once reached the peak of a mountain. He breathed in the cool air and sat down to rest for a moment, watching the scenery. But the beauty escaped him. He cared for it little in that time, as he thought it hardly practical to his desires. Lone he was in that mountain in complete isolation. But that did not keep him. He was not looking for that. Thus, he left.

He also found his way to a desert at another time. The dry climate and imagery felt much like himself in his emptiness. It seemed a rather tired landscape, he thought, and he was quite tired himself. That was not comforting, however, but rather sad. He did not like to look at it. He quickly made his way through it and once across he did not look behind him. Thus, he left.

One day, he stopped and started to build a house. It was at a clearing in the middle of the forest, which itself lay near a busy little town, none of whose activity, though, reached the depths of the woods he had dived in. The first task in his undertaking was to remove all the little creatures of chaos that were getting in the way. Indeed, more and more of them seemed to show up these days and that forest was especially filled with them.

After claiming his own space, next in line was making the necessary tools he required for the job. That took some time as he had no particular knowledge on the subject and it took several tries, but he was a creative person and was able to figure it out eventually. Once he had the tools for it, he started going on trips of cutting trees. He needed to get materials for the building and wood was most important in that regard. He also meant to collect others like stone, but they weren’t as readily available to him in his preferred quantity and quality. He started to process the wood before that.

One day, he walked down to the town. In approaching, he saw more of the chaotic little creatures. Curiously, some of them appeared to be moving slowly like snails, leaving behind a long trail of displaced grass. A short wall surrounded the town, with touches of the purple aura spreading from points where the crawlers had gotten to it. Upon arrival, he found a person to ask and questioned them on what place this was and how close they were to Argenturegnum.

The town turned out to be Guther of what was once Gleswin. As for Argenturegnum, the man replied, “By the old ways, it would be quite far, you’d have to cross the eastern edge and go down Castellar. Right now, though, all the old ways are mixed up and there’s no telling where everything is. I do think there’s some Castellar worlds nearby, however”. That was enough for Wiz, he then went back and resumed work.

One day, he came back to the town. Once again, he received wayward looks from the gate guards and the people of the city. In his state, he did not appear much better than a beggar, a bandit or the monsters that were sieging their town. He found his way to a stonemason and asked to get resources from him. The stonemason eyed him up and down and asked, “And how will you pay me for that?” But Wiz had no money so he returned with nothing.

Back in the forest, he found a river and following his failure he bathed in it, clearing away the dirt and sweat of many days of travel and work. After that, he washed and sought to fix his clothes. He was hardly able to do a proper job in the wilderness with no sewing set. Nonetheless, it was better than nothing.

The next day, he came up to the guards of the wall and said, “I’ll get the purple monsters off your wall, if you pay me for it”. The guards seemed hesitant, questioning that he could do it, but he was able to get them to promise that if he did so they would talk to their captain about it. Wiz proceeded to approach one of the little crawlers and pick it up, holding it high for everyone on the wall to see. After throwing it away into the forest, he returned to the amazed guards asking for a more proper deal before he finished the job. It took some trouble of talking to and convincing the right people, but at last after completing a day’s work, he got his payment.

Being the only person with the particular skill and the undertaking being one quite desired, he managed to get a rather good deal. The next few days, he continued this type of work so he could get all the money he needed. Afterward, he went shopping for resources.

Some day after that, he started to work on the foundations of the house. With both wood and stone –and anything more he could find in Guther– available he could progress a lot faster. The wooden parts he’d already been working on were put in place and the new materials were added. Little by little, day by day, he started to erect the building. At last, after a few months’ work, it was almost done.

He looked up at the house he had made. It was crooked with the walls meeting at strange angles, rather inconsistent based on his mood and what materials he had available at the time of the making of each part. Overall, it gave the impression of just barely holding together and not falling apart. And yet in some way, through some mysterious design to Wiz it seemed just right. It was his achievement through and through and he could see himself all over it.

The next day, he completed it, outside and inside. He looked at it again. It stood proudly as one, with its own personality. Then, he looked away. He started walking again. He did not come back.

Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter (talk)***---***Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter (talk)

The times were getting bleaker. More and more, the dark clouds seemed to gather in order to shower rain of ruin and infection. It occurred to Wiz that on the edge of his vision he could catch the shadows of people growing scared and panicked. Perhaps, this was the end of the world and there was no point in fretting over fixing himself.

How much longer would he have to go? He wished to find what he was looking for and this cursed journey to end as quickly as possible. If the end times were to come and interrupt him before he could reach that goal, then he’d much rather it all end now.

Tired, he was growing oh so very tired. How long had it been now? He had achieved nothing significant in all this time. But Nothing for Eternity was an exhausting notion. How much longer would he not understand what he has to do? How much longer would this hopeless journey have to go on? Every day he told himself he should stop. Every day he found nothing worth keeping him one place. He felt the dread of stopping and as prisoner to himself, continued evermore.

He got into a library once. He studied the books all through the night and then some, trying to find some answer that others might have left for him. He went through all manners of tomes and different subjects. But in the end, they were all devoid of any wisdom he could appreciate. He left them behind.

He stared into the horizon once, studied nature, trying to look for life’s deeper meanings. The ancient questions of philosophy attacked him with unexpected suddenness and sought to be solved by him. But ultimately, no profound answers were born of his depression. Rather distraught he was, for instead of that he realised he could hardly justify to himself the existence of a larger meaning.

He walked into a church once, reminding himself of the old teachings of his mother and Burkborrow’s priests. He thought hard on it and prayed, searching for advice from above. But upon walking out, he was disheartened rather than relieved. No matter what the business of the Creator was, it clearly did not concern him, abandoned as he was. Or worse yet, if the Creator was to look his way, would he not see a terrible excuse for a human being? Maybe it was in fact that He had already decided to punish him, that he was going through this all and he was damned anyway.

The answers did not come to Wiz where he looked for them, so he kept walking, even though he hated every step.

At one time, Wiz found himself climbing on a mountain. He had lost touch of where he was again, but he’d determined to get through to the other side on grounds that were anyone’s guess. During the hike, he came upon a cliff suddenly as he walked out of a small forest, giving him view into a canyon that cut through the mountains. The sight it presented to him was not wholesome at all. A group of the dark creatures of chaos was chasing a tribe of goats. However, unlike before they seemed to have grown a pair of thin, but long arms. Using those, they were able to drag themselves around surprisingly fast. Despite the goats’ advantage on mountainous terrain, the fiends were quickly upon them, injuring and infecting them merely through their touch. As soon as one of the dark critters had gotten hold of one of the poor animals, it would cling on to it till it started dissolving within its embrace, consuming it.

Wiz looked away from the gruesome sight, but then his eyes fell upon a small hut built higher on the cliff. With a sigh, he turned back and jumped from the ledge to roll down near where the chase was going on. Upon getting closer and balancing himself on the steep side of the mountain, he proceeded to give the dark beings a touch of imagination, blowing them up in the process. One after another, he went after them. As soon as the fiends registered him, they started to gang up on him instead, drawn by something in him. This, however, made his job easier and he easily ended them all. At last, only the goats were left, some dead, some alive as well as several puddles of molten goo. One of the goats bleated. Then, they continued fleeing. So did Wiz.

Higher on the mountain, he later happened to come upon the very same hut as he’d seen before. He passed by it and saw a man seated on the porch with a game of checkers set before him on a table. Wiz made to continue past him and avoid conversation, but the man suddenly took his focused gaze from the game he seemed to be playing alone and looked to the traveller.

“Where are you off to, master?” he asked.

Wiz stopped and peered back, much uncharacteristically for himself in those times. He looked a rather old man and he had a cheerful smile on his face. His appearance was at large rather ordinary, the kind you’d expect from an old recluse living in the mountains; but for one thing, the locket and silver cross hanging from a chain on his neck.

“Would you not sit down and play a game with me?” the man pressed on when Wiz didn’t answer.

“I can’t for I need to get going”.

“Where are you travelling to in such a hurry?” he repeated his first question.

“I don’t know”.

“There are three types of people who don’t know the destination of their travels”, the hermit began. “Those who are going everywhere, those who are going anywhere and hose who are going nowhere. Which one are you?”

“I’m not sure… Only that I am looking for something”.

“And what are you looking for?”

“I don’t know that either. But I’m sure I’ll understand when I find it”.

“Young lad, you sound mighty confused. Would you not sit down and rest for a while? I’m sure whatever you’re seeking will still be out there after you have. And you might find it more easily with a clear head”.

“Staying in one place: I highly doubt it would be rest for me”.

“Come now, lad, don’t be like that. I dare say, maybe it’s not that you’re looking for something, but rather that you’re running from it”.

“Perhaps that is the case”.

“Then all the better reason to have a game with me and rest. Whatever’s haunting you, it won’t find you here”.

“And yet I still cannot forget about it. As long as it’s there, there’s no meaning to seeking a life for myself”.

“You’re sounding absurd now. And why the hell can you not forget it? I say, let go of the past, let go of the future, live for the present. Relinquish your expectations, your hopes and fears, start anew from scratch and you will have no troubles. Come, I’ve invited you many times over. Will you not accept? If you leave it all behind now, I can leave my own as well. We’ll begin from nothing together”.

“The two of us are strangers. Why are you suggesting this to someone you just met? I’m sure you wouldn’t want me with you”.

“We are both people, are we not? That is enough connection. That is enough common ground. I have no problem accepting you for I too can put myself behind. I have no problem accepting you for you too can put yourself behind. Don’t you think it’s a beautiful concept? Two people on a clean slate? They could live beautifully together. Up here where nothing can touch us, we can remove our ugliness to achieve what so many people struggle at. Sit down with me”.

Wiz was tempted by this little speech. The salvation of letting go all his worries, all his troubles appeared way too sweet to him. He could finally rest, as the man was suggesting. But then… what kind of life would he really enjoy? Removing all of that, would he not remove himself entirely? With his self-hatred, though, would also go his love for anything. Would he not be simply be switching into a different state of nothingness?

“No, I cannot put it all behind me. There are things way too important. There are things I still need to do. This is not a choice I can take”.

“I see now that you cannot let go of your hopes. And thus you also allow your fears to control you. And you become a prisoner of your own desires. If it is so, then continue. Try to find what you are looking for. But I am afraid you will regret it in the end”.

Wiz went back to his journey.

Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter (talk)***---***Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter (talk)

The world only got worse since. The creatures –Wiz once heard someone call them darklings– started to grow claws, wings and other such features making them brutal. Chaos was getting everywhere. More than ever it was getting dangerous for all. It really seemed like the end times were imminent. But Wiz could hardly do anything about it. Perhaps, it would be fitting for the world to end after all this. After all, it sometimes felt like his had already been shattered since Geidrich died.

How far must he have gotten since? How long had it been? Such questions concerned him as of late. He took to studying the stars. It was not easy to make sense of them since the planet had been destroyed and its natural movement disrupted. Now many more variables were added to deciphering the skies, what with the separate revolutions and erratic movements of the different worlds that had been created. But the stars remained the same and with enough determination and dedication coupled with some prior knowledge on astronomy, he was eventually able to conclude it had been about a year since he’d left Geidrich Castle. Though he wasn’t sure at all, if years existed still in the same manner in the broken Crux System.

Around the same time, there was a strange incident also. Out of nowhere it seemed to come, an odd sensation overtook him. It was not of internal origin and he did not perceive anything out of his surroundings to have caused it. It rather looked like it was the sensation itself that had come to find him on its own. It run through his body, filling his mind with a sense of urgency. He felt it like a call. Inviting him to turn his head from whatever he was doing and… seeking the source. But more than that, it felt vitally important to do that as if his life and more depended on it. And he even seemed to get an idea of where he should head.

This was quite the strange phenomenon. Considering the complexity of it, Wiz was almost certain that this was a message. A call intentionally made by someone to seek his help. Who it was and what for he couldn’t be quite sure. He also didn’t know if he was the only one who received it. It had seemed genuine at the time, but as the feeling subsided doubt came into his mind and he reminded himself it could be a trap. He did know someone who could be capable of something like this, a very powerful person, and he was very certain he was not well disposed to Wiz. Either way, though, it wasn’t like he was the sort of person to be of any help. As desperate as they may have sounded in their message, he couldn’t fix anyone’s problems. He ignored the call and soon forgot about it.

But a rather odd encounter would soon follow after that. In those days, Wiz’s appearance deteriorated again and he scared onlookers more than ever. The times were frightening in themselves, so a ragged figure was not welcomed any more than the demons that had come to torment the people of Crux. Strangers and suspicious people weren’t to be trusted and he was the most suspicious one of them all.

As such, it was quite surprising when on a chance meeting with a hooded woman, she did not turn away, but rather stayed to stare indignantly at him. Despite the hood, concealing part of her head and face, she appeared undoubtedly beautiful and had and otherworldly aura of significance about her. Her eyes had a strong look in them and seemed to pierce right through him. She was certainly an unusual person.

“Aren’t you going to run like the others?” he asked after examining her.

“It would be quite ironic if I of all people judged someone based on appearance”, she replied though Wiz could not tell what she was referring to.

“Do you have business with me?” he enquired.

“I might ask you the opposite. Do you have no business at all?”

“Excuse me?”

“Surely, you must have noticed the state of the world right now. Are you not going to do anything about it? You’re part of it, too”.

“What could I even do?”

“Don’t you know? The war has already started. The call has been sent. You merely need to answer”.

“War? What war?”

“Have you not seen that the chaotic energies are quickly converging to form a maelstrom? This is no longer about a force of indiscriminate destruction. Humanity has a clear enemy, you must have sensed it. Get out of your self-loathing and do something about it”.

“I don’t understand. Who even are you? Telling me these things. What do you even know?”

“I’m merely a watcher. Or perhaps a guardian. I am of little consequence to you. My paths does not lead parallel to yours. But on this chance encounter, our paths have crossed. And as I see your soul, I must tell you what you need to hear”.

Wiz would have replied, but then someone else appeared from the bushes. They were similarly robed and hooded, but their face was a lot more concealed, so that he could not make much of it. There was definitely something off about that individual also, though.

The person approached the woman and they seemed to greet each other. Then, in a gruff masculine voice, he asked, “Who is this?”

“Just a stranger I happened to meet”, she replied.

The newcomer turned to inspect him closer and in that instance Wiz managed to get a glimpse of the man’s face. He understood then what might have been the meaning of the woman’s first words to him. For the man’s face was nothing ordinary at all. First he noticed the glow of the red eyes, most striking within the shadow of the hood. But as he took the sight in more, he realised the whole face was enveloped in purple almost like it was ablaze. The skin, too, had a dark grey colour below the purple mist.

It was not the first time Wiz saw a person who had been overtaken by the dark aura of chaos, but this was the first one he saw that had survived it. Most curious of all, though, was the fact that the woman was quite accepting of that and that the man’s behaviour did not appear as far as he could tell influenced by it. Wiz hadn’t closely studied the chaotic force, but he could tell that if someone was consumed by it like that they should normally be under its control. That was the whole purpose of its infection after all. Corruption. He’d heard some theories on that, too, when magicians had discussed it before.

“I need to go now, lost one”, the woman addressed him again. “I hope you will make the right choice. Just remember, you are not alone”.

With those words, they took off together and left Wiz behind. They quickly disappeared in the wilderness, almost too suddenly, but as the last piece in this puzzling mystery, Wiz thought that for a moment he saw the two linking hands. Everything about those two seemed to be clashing, their auras made them out to be natural enemies. And yet they were not. What the meaning of that was in the larger picture of things was beyond him.

More than that, Wiz thought about what the woman had said. It made him feel guilty and he considered upon it long. However, he could not come to the conclusion she wanted. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the world. He didn’t want to see it in this state either. But what was there to do? No one wanted to face the troubles his magic brought with it. And without magic, he could never hope to achieve anything worthwhile alone. And despite what she’d told him, Wiz had not yet encountered anyone willing or able to fight the Chaos. He’d seen no effort to save the world. If he found allies, perhaps that would be a different case.

And yet, even as he reached that conclusion, the woman’s words bothered him and his sleep grew more restless. Part of him could not accept that line of thought still. It was surprising for him to care about something for so long without giving it up to oblivion. And yet something had struck a cord with him in what the woman had said to him. So, it continued nagging him.

One day, he remembered the feeling of call he had received before. It reminded him of the woman’s words about a war and a call. Could it be that this was the answer and he’d been ignoring it all this time? He very much held doubts about it; there were very high chances this wasn’t it. But the realisation came to him suddenly that it didn’t hurt to try. It would be no worse from his pointless wandering. So, he set out to find the source, although the trail was cold by now.

However, it was not to be. That would be the last part of Wiz’s journey, but in a rather different way than he’d expected. For different schemes and machinations would catch up with him soon.

It had not been many days since he’d begun his new search, when it started weaving around him. It was subtle at first that he didn’t notice it. It quickly got hold of him and wouldn’t let go. Before Wiz knew it, he found himself enveloped by it, captured by it. The transition had been so gradual that he did not know when he started seeing it. But just as he had been walking in a valley before, he had somehow ended up in a strange path that he didn’t think was entirely solid.

He recognised it at once. This was surely magic. He was under some kind of enchantment. He could not understand what it was about, though, and the fact that it was half there, half not made it very mysterious. He could still see the valley, but at the same time he wasn’t completely there any more. He tried to go back, but that did not break the spell. He did not know what was going on, but he realised there was only one way of finding out.

He kept walking on and slowly but surely the enchantment manifested more and more. At last, he ended up completely separated from the reality he was in before and was left in the whirling ethereal path of darkness the enchantment had built for him. He continued and the journey in whole was very long, so much so that by the end of it he hardly remembered what he had been after before.

But ultimately he started to notice that his surroundings were coming back. Little by little they came into being, growing solid right under his feet. With that encouragement, he kept going. By the end, however, he could tell that this was not the same place as he was before. More than that, it felt entirely different on many levels. The air itself, the finer elements within it, they had all changed. When he felt it, it took him by surprise. He glanced around in bewilderment.

He was on a hill, overlooking a large piece of barren land. The soil was dark and grey, the skies were stormy with purple clouds. It was not a welcoming sight. Closer to him, though, he saw a single person lying on the ground.

“Hey you? Where are we?” Wiz called out.

The man looked around at him in surprise, “Where did you come from?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, too. Do you know what this place is?”

“This place?”

“Yes, as in this world? The planet chunk?”

“We’re in Crux Prime, but how do you not know that?”

Crux Prime? What sort of place was that? However, that train of thought was interrupted by the sight of the man wincing in pain. At that point, it occurred to Wiz that he must be lying there for a reason. He blinked twice and with some effort was able to see the man as he was –a bald person dressed in red and blue– rather than as a shadow. At the same time , he found out that indeed the man was injured.

“How did you get hurt like that?” he asked as he inspected the wounds.

“I was on a mission in the area, but then some kind of dark entity started pursuing me. I managed to keep it away from myself, but it sent Stromlings after me”.

“Stromlings?”

“Ye- Behind you!”

Wiz span around and found a creature similar to the robed man he’d met before. However, this one was a lot more malformed and monstrous. Parts of its flesh were rotten or completely missing, exposing its bones to the air; it had a blade attached to its arm and its face rather than intelligent looked rabid. The infected human charged at him, but Wiz merely put his arm forward and a blue flame came forth, enveloping the creature’s ghastly head. It screeched in agony and then fell down lifeless.

“Wow! This is an interesting technique”, the man was impressed.

“So, they’ve really started corrupting people then?” Wiz noted.

“Started? What are you talking about? Stromlings like it have been around for twenty years”.

“Twenty years? No, that can’t be right. This force of chaos has only been around for a year and a half tops”.

“Huh? Are you joking? The Maelstrom arrived a lot earlier than that. We’ve all been fighting it too long really”.

“Wait, wait, wait. What year is it?” Wiz had a sudden suspicion about what was going on.

“Why, it’s 3020 of course”.

“3020…” he whispered to himself in disbelief, his suspicions confirmed. “Twenty-one years…” How could this have happened?

“Why, did you not know? Is that important?” the injured man asked.

“I- uh… No. It’s not important. Rather what can we do for you?”

A little purple was peeking through the man’s red and blue clothes where they had been ripped. His wounds did not look pretty.

“Right now, it would probably be best if I got back to the Nexus Tower. They can treat me there”.

“Nexus Tower. Good! Where is that?”

“My, you really know nothing about what is going on, do you? Are you perhaps from the Outer Ring? Or maybe another planet? Though I can’t imagine how you got here accidentally, without finding out about all this”.

“Uh… yes. The Outer Ring. I’m from there”, Wiz agreed in an attempt to make himself less suspicious.

“The Nexus Tower is the Nexus Force’s base –do you know the Nexus Force? It’s on this same world, just follow the blue beam in the sky and that’s where you’ll find it”.

Wiz looked around for a few moments until he found the beam as described, “Hey, that kinda looks like the Nexus. From the pictures I’ve seen anyway”.

“Well, of course, where do you think we take the name from? Though this is merely a shadow of what the Nexus was once. A shard that survived the corruption and is being kept there for safety. And to fight back”.

“A shard survived? I thought the Nexus had been completely lost”.

“No, no. That’s not what happened. You’re very strange, though. There’s no predicting what you know and what you don’t. But tell you what. If you can pick me up and help me go back that way, I could tell you of the story”.

Wiz, curious to know what the man had to say, helped the man up and supporting him, they both started walking together.

“By the way, before anything else, what is your name?” he decided to ask; that was awfully social for him, but it looked like they might spend a lot of time together, so he might as well know that.

“Oh, I’m Bob. How about you?”

“Me? I’m-” he stopped. Who was he really? It had been so long since anyone had called him Wiz. That had been quite another life. He was now merely a shadow of his old self. Even looking down at his clothes, he could see how the colours had been gradually sapped from them, leaving a dull black-and-white image. “Just call me Shadow”.

“That doesn’t sound like a real name. But no matter. We’ve got plenty of people who don’t use their real names in the Nexus Force, too. Nice to make your acquaintance”.

After that Bob began to explain the story from the very start. How four explorers had come from foreign planets looking for the Imagination Nexus. How one of them had betrayed the others, corrupting the Nexus and releasing the Maelstrom. How just one shard had survived and the Nexus Force was built around it to protect the universe. And then how the Maelstrom had grown to become the destructive threat that it was now.

From what Bob said, the Nexus Force must have begun forming when he was still around and wandering the lands. And he had watched the Maelstrom evolving himself. It finally occurred to him how self-centred he’d been at the time, not realising how much more and bigger events were unfolding at the same time. If he’d kept his eyes open, he’d probably would have seen it. Twenty years had inexplicably passed now, but perhaps it did not have to be late. The words of the hooded woman resurfaced once more.

At the same time, they made progress on their descent and then left the hill behind. Their hike continued and after a while, the aforementioned tower showed up before them for real. It was still very far away, but it was so tall and large that it could be seen from a great distance. Realising how long they still had to go, Wiz started having doubts.

“If these stromlings are all over the place and Crux Prime is full of them, too, how come they’re not attacking us right now?” Wiz wondered finally.

“They did before, but I drove them away. They must still be watching, gathering their numbers, waiting for a chance to strike. But for now the aura of Imagination I’ve put around me –or perhaps the order of their master– is keeping them away. I don’t think it will last though”.

“Their master? Is that the Darkitect you spoke of? The leader of the Maelstrom”.

“I don’t know. Not much is clear about the Darkitect himself, though it’s hard to think that he would come to this place so close to the heart of the Nexus Force. It could be him. But he’s also known to have used lieutenants that oversee his forces more closely than he could. But I can’t tell what it is this time for I haven’t clearly seen it. I mostly just sensed it”.

“If they are to attack again soon, and there’s also the master to think about, would it perhaps be better to try and contact your friends some way and get them to come to us sooner?”

“I do have a comm, but it has malfunctioned. Otherwise I’d have contacted them already”.

“Isn’t there anything else we can do? I don’t know if we can make it alone”.

“Hmm… Let me think. The presence of the dark entity doesn’t seem as strong right now, so maybe I could…”

A small wisp of blue light, the colour of Imagination, flew out of Bob’s body, hovered around for a moment twinkling and then set off moving incredibly fast, like an object that has no weight.

“It can’t get a proper message across, but is should alert some people in order to come find me”, Box explained.

“Wow, you’re pretty talented yourself”, Wiz complimented. “Is everyone in the Nexus Force so skilled with Imagination? That’s almost like we’re back in the age of the Figorani”.

“No no, I’m afraid not everyone can do that. We do have some very gifted people here and there, though. More so than me, I would say, I can’t do anything really impressive”.

“So, what do we do now?”

“Let’s keep moving. I don’t know how fast they’ll be able to get here, but it’s no good staying in the same place too long”.

The two of them continued together, though their progress was still slow. At the same time, Wiz got the feeling that they were being watched by something more and more. Was it one great presence or many watchful eyes? He could not tell. But there was definitely something there. He wondered what was really keeping it away. Bob had said something about that, but did he really have the power to keep the Maelstrom at bay? After all, hadn’t a stromling approached him just earlier? He decided to voice that question.

“Hmm…” Bob considered. “Honestly, it puzzles me, too. They weren’t that hindered in attacking me before and by now they should have replenished their numbers already. At the very least, we should have encountered a rogue stromling. The only thing I can think of is… Maybe your appearance scared them off somehow. It’s when you showed up they stopped coming… Or perhaps, though that’s very much a hypothesis, since you’re also skilled in that regard maybe you’re involuntarily strengthening my aura”.

“That’s some leap in logic, don’t you think?” and yet Wiz did not think it was that impossible. “What kind of mission is this anyway that they’d send you alone in such a dangerous place?”

“It’s not actually that dangerous usually. I’m quite surprised myself. It was considered a simple task to complete and they also wanted some secrecy, so they didn’t want to involve many people”.

“Secrecy? What’s that about?”

“I’m not really supposed to talk about it, but weeell, I feel like I kind of owe you something for your help and it’s not like there’s anything I found to want to classify anyway”, Bob argued with himself. “It’s an investigation, you see, concerning the ten heroes”.

Wiz looked at him curiously, “Ten heroes?”

“Oh but of course”, Bob exclaimed. “You wouldn’t know about that. You need to tell me at some point how it is that you got all the way to Nimbus without ever hearing about all the Nexus Force at all. Anyway, a little while ago, a lot of rumours started circulating about a prophecy that predicted the coming of ten heroes that would turn the tide of the war. It got really popular, but apparently some big folks are saying it’s legit. So, the leaders want to find them now and we believed we might find a clue about it here and that’s what got me here”.

“So, any luck with that?”

“Unfortunately not. Didn’t get to look much really, but I didn’t find anything. Well, except you”.

Wiz did not get to respond to that, however, since then he heard something. A buzz of some kind, coming from above.

“Hey do you hear that?” he asked.

“It sounds like a chopper”.

“Look! There it is!”

Due to his parents and Geidrich’s situation, Wiz had had far too much knowledge on advanced technology considering the country he grew up in. However, even he had never come directly face to face with something like the beast of a flying machine that had appeared. It took him completely by surprise and amazed him.

“What is that?”

“It’s a Nexus Talon Drop-ship. Help has really come!” Bob explained.

In the next few moments, the aircraft landed near them and the crew ushered them in. Wiz took in all the strange technology that surrounded him with a child-like glee in his eyes. He had always been curious about this sort of thing and now that he saw it for real, it’d enchanted him. Maybe if he stayed with these people a little longer, he could even learn how these things worked.

Bob received first aid as soon as he boarded, although further treatment would be definitely required after that. Once the situation had quieted down again in anticipation of their arrival at the fast approaching Tower, he beckoned Wiz to approach.

“I really am thankful for today and I don’t think I have the right to ask any more of you, but… You seem to really have a talent. The Nexus Force would really welcome you if you wanted to continue helping us. You truly are a strange fellow. But I’d love to work with you again”.

This came a little as a surprise to Wiz. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered joining the Force for that thought had been growing in his mind for some time. Rather it had escaped him that Bob might be so interested as to invite him personally. But the overall idea was not at all unpleasant to him.

He had up until very recently been wandering aimlessly, for a very long time. He’d been searching for something, something that might save him from his predicament. And now he thought perhaps what he’d been seeking was a purpose. Something to motivate him out of that quasi-dead state and give him something to do without having to worry about who himself was.

He remembered the hooded woman’s word and all the suffering he’d seen before. He thought of Bob’s story. The Nexus Force could perhaps give him that purpose. He’d known since the beginning he had special skills to offer against the scourge of the Maelstrom, but now he could also see he was not alone. The two robed people, too, the couple of contradiction, of both Imagination and Chaos. He could tell now that they were trying to defy the will of the Maelstrom in their own way. Defy their own fates. Everyone was doing their best to push back the threat. And if he wasn’t alone, his efforts wouldn’t be pointless. They would have a purpose to them.

Wiz could relax. He could dedicate himself to that goal, to that ideal. And then he wouldn’t have to be Wiz any more. He could cast away himself like that old man had suggested, but not entirely. He could still keep one thing and he would not be empty. Shadow. He was a shadow of his old self. So, he would let go of that past, the past that was no good any more. And he would keep what was left. And much like Bob called him. He would become Strange Odd Shadow. . .

>>Next Suggested Story>> The Insane Blatherings, (Purposefully) Forgotten Tales of the land of Morcia

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