The Adventures of the Peculiar Enchanter: No Path

The Adventures of the Peculiar Enchanter:

No Path

O Elemiere, the Day Star, brighter even than daylight

Always in the sky, always calling, but always too far away

Thy warmth giveth hope, it giveth life to the fallen and the pure

When all seemeth lost, we turn to thee and thou shinest upon us

The last ray of light in a world of darkness

“I, for one, don't see how this plan would be any good. I wouldn't like to deal with any of his sort”, Lord Paddleton shared his opinion rather loudly.

“But haven't you heard Odcysgod's last achievement?” Count Baretone, minister for economics, seemed to be of the other opinion. “He defeated the Tarmon Demon for brick's sake. We could do with that kind of power!”

“That just shows that we shouldn't hire him”, Baron Hilion disagreed. “It's clear that anyone able to outpower and outwit one of hells' abominable demons must be a devil himself. Only with devilry can you fight devilry!”

“And what about that other case where he liberated that village of its terrible plague?” Lord Belos enquired.

“Well, that one is obvious. If one puts the matter down and sees it under the light of reason, he will quickly come to the conclusion that the plague did not occur any earlier than the Magicians' arrival. So, I deduce he caused it in the first place!” Duke Delamon, minister for interior affairs, seneschal and prime minister.

“And why would he do that”, a lowly Baronet, whose name is not worth remembering to write here asked, “if he was to undo it in the end?”.

“But to make himself look good, of course”, the prime minister replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “People like Odcysgod like to show off their powers. It's not good enough for them to just possess them. They want people's admiration and adoration. Vanity is not a sin sorcerers lack”.

“There's no sin that demons lack!” Lord Hamilton spoke fanatically.

More examples of Odcysgod's conduct were brought forth. The Beast of Chertwood; The Necromancer at Yore; the Brayton Bridge Troll. Each and every one of them was dismissed and contradicted. The Beast was just a pet let loose by accident; the story of Yore was so exaggerated not the littlest part of it could any longer be believed at all; the Troll at Brayton Bridge had been taken down, because it had personally offended the Magician and not for any other reason.

The King's councilmen looked to be on the verge of a real quarrel. It wasn't really that uncommon, but the King really wished to avoid it; loud voices overlapping each other brought him head aches. He stood up from his chair with a suddenness that surprised even himself, his several trinkets jingling and his overgrown belly swaying. Once the King had recovered from the resulted dizziness, he raised his hands to call for silence. The men in the room, Aesregnum's most important people, did not seem to notice that gesture and instead seemed to grow louder. The King was getting fast annoyed and he felt a tantrum coming.

Suddenly, silence fell, spreading through the room with such speed it almost felt tangible. The King was satisfied with the respect, authority, awe and even fear his figure inspired. He proceeded to sit down back at his chair, at the top of the oval stone table, as his legs had begun to hurt by the fatigue of having to stand so long. However, when he was sat down, he realised that he was not the one to whom the respect, the authority, the awe and the fear belonged to.

At the centre of the table, the impressive figure of the wrinkliest old man the King had ever seen was receiving the room's whole attention. The wrinkles around the white-haired and -bearded man's eyes shaped a permanent frown that was most unpleasant to look at. However, the brown eyes themselves were a lot more uncomfortable as they focused on him, they seemed to peer right through him and into his soul and they certainly looked judging. The King avoided to look at those eyes, but he could still feel the aura of power and influence the man seemed to emanate; the air they breathed on, the stone of the table, the wood of the chairs they sat on, even the fabric of their own clothes were much more in league with him than they were with any other. The King was surprised at these thoughts -cleverer as they were than he was; he'd never noticed such things before.

Then the man opened his mouth and the silence, a lot like a spell of its own, was broken: “Well, gentlemen! I am here. What did you call me here for?”.

The King was very unsettled by the Magician's presence and he didn't like it. He was the king of this land for brick's sake and he demanded the respect and fear of people. No one had the right to come in his Council Room and make him feel bad about himself. He would not stand for this.

“There's a door, you know”, he finally managed to say in an irritated manner, though his mouth felt a tad too dry.

The King's irritated response was the signal to make several of the people around the table show their disapproval of Odcysgod's presence in one way or another -none of them too open. He was after all a demonous man who wouldn't think twice to hex them. That much they all knew: never insult a sorcerer.

“Once you call for me, you sign up to my rules”, the Magician spoke.

That infuriated the King. He was the King; he should have the upper hand; he should set the rules. Then, why did he feel like an insect before that man? He didn't like that feeling. He wasn't used to wondering about who and what he was. All his life, he was the Prince or the King and that was the end of it. Everyone knew what that meant about who he was. But now that man came here and by just focusing his judging eyes on him, defied all of that. All of this thinking was highly unnecessary. Why did he have to wonder about himself when he knew everything there was to know? It made his head hurt.

However, the King had not brought Odcysgod there to quarrel. Usually, those who made the King's head hurt, would lose their own head as just punishment. However, now he had to be patient. He swallowed his anger -and his confusion- and began to talk.

“Odcysgod. You and I might look a lot different, but I think in reality we are much the same. We seek for power where we can get it, not being hindered by ethical qualms. Some people may not be able to handle such kind of power, but we are superior and it is our duty to seize that power and use it as our infinite wisdom commands”.

“Do you attempt to flatter or insult me? Taking the comparison into account, I'd incline towards the latter”.

What had the Magician said? What did he mean? He thought there was something insolent about the response, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. The King had very carefully prepared his brilliant speech and he was very proud of it. Now, the Magician was interrupting him with comments he didn't know how to take and confused him. He had not predicted that. That man had such an irrational manner. No one had interrupted him before. Did this man not think he was an object of admiration and respect? He was a King. What else did it take to receive someone's respect? Thoughts he'd never had before suddenly flooded his mind and caused him acute headache. This was completely unnecessary. Why did the Magician have to make it so difficult?

“Don't interrupt me, please”, the King said wiping some beads of sweat off his forehead.

“Well, what I was saying? Yes, right. Well, I... I don't fear to strike deals with the devil. I mean, you don't fear to make deals with him”, his throat was drier than before, “and I... ah, am not afraid to surround myself with people of power”.

“Accusing one of striking deals with the devil isn't the best way to approach one when you want to ask a favour, you know”, Odcysgod replied, while he sat on Lord Paddleton's head and placed the bottom of his staff on Lord Belos's; he had obviously heeded no attention to the King's request and now was actively showing disrespect to everyone in the room; the King had not been sure about the Magician's associations with demonic powers, but now he became more and more convinced.

Before the King could continue, though, Baron Hilion stood up and looked at the Magician with a mix of hatred, disgust and fear, “Accusing you of striking a deal with him?! Ha! You are a devil, yourself”.

“There is only one devil and I don't think I have his sense of fashion. Evil though he may be, I've seen many interpretations that show him very stylish; even I got a little jealous”.

“Listen at how he speaks! He disregards every notion of prudence and is full of sinfulness. It is truly a spawn of hell that we speak to!” Lord Hamiltion spoke.

“That is debatable”.

“If you're not a hellish demon, then I'm a squirrel”, Lord Hamilton responded.

“Then, you must be a squirrel, I'm afraid. I'm not here to debate whether I've given my soul to the devil or not, though. It's funny that you should speak of squirrels, by the way. I was just thinking about them”.

Outrage followed that statement. Half the councilmen began to yell their opinion as loudly as they could and that caused the other half to join, too; how could their superior opinion be left out of this gentleman-like discussion? The King attempted in vain to calm everyone down. This went on for a minute or so and then all of a sudden everyone stopped talking, leaving a deafening silence to fill the room instead.

Odcysgod finally got up from Lord Paddleton's head and looked at his honourable hosts. Their eyes, all targeted at him, had looks of increased fear and anger. Some of them were still opening and closing their mouth, as if to talk, but no sound would come out.

“Sorry I had to do that. Funny though it may have been at the beginning, it got tiring quickly”.

“Now, deary kingy. Why don't you cut to the chase and tell me what exactly you want from me? My time is precious and I don't mean to spend it on listening to unoriginal speeches about how the devil and I are one and the same”.

With some effort, the King finally found his voice again. A few coughs showed that the rest of the men around the tables were slowly retrieving their voices again, but no one spoke; sinful though the Magician may have been, they wished to avoid his sorcery.

“I am sure you are aware of the situation of our war with Argenturegnum. We have the capacity to pay you a great sum, if you assist us in defeating our enemies”, the King said, though he was frustrated he didn't get to finish his prepared speech, on which he'd put so much effort; he had even edited several parts after it was given to him.

The Magician's expression, as soon as he heard those words, became thrice scowler, thrice crosser, thrice more judging and the King felt as if he'd been hit by lightning.

“I do not meddle with silly wars between minifigures. Do not waste my time”.

The King was very much afraid of the Magician, but he could not contain his anger anymore.

“I knew it! Your Argenturegnum origin makes you side with them. So, we have you as an enemy then. Not a good choice, sir. Not a good choice!”.

The Magician had begun to turn around to leave, but now he turned back to look at the King with the most hateful expression he could muster and began to walk towards the fat man.

“Let me rephrase. I would never even consider for a single moment to consider working with a filthy little fat insignificant, yet arrogant as it gets insect like you!”.

With every word, Odcysgod made a step towards the King and now he'd bent his head looking at him face to face, their eyes barely not touching. The King realised that he did not see hatred in the man's eyes, but just pure disgust.

The King angrily began to stand up to yell his reply, but he never did. Instead there was a low thump, as a squirrel carven out of wood fell on the King's now vacant throne, accompanied by the clang of the King's now headless crown, landing next to it and moving cyclically until it balanced into stillness.

The Magician looked up from the squirrel statue and examined the whole room. No glance was returned, as the Council Room was now only occupied by him and some dozens of wooden squirrels. With a satisfied smile on his face, Odcysgod began to walk away until...

“You cursed the King!” someone called fearfully.

Odcysgod turned around to see a guard trembling in fear, pointing his pike in the former's direction. The Magician's examination had been mistaken. A single guard still remained.

“Who?”.

“The King... and everybody else!”.

“That rings a bell, I guess... Why are you not a squirrel, too?”.

“I don't know”.

“Well, I guess I must have liked your face when I saw it. Well, goodbye then. My sincerest wishes to the wife. You're married, right? Ah, maybe not. Bye!”.

“But what about the King?”

“You seem to have an obsession about Kings. It's not healthy. You should see a doctor”.

“But you cursed the King!”.

“We already established that, I believe”.

“What about the Kingdom? It needs a King”.

“You could always become a plain Dom, you know. But I see your point”, Odcysgod walked back to the King's throne and grabbed the crown. “Here you are”. He tossed the crown to the guard, who had to let his pike fall to save the crown from its doom.

“What? Why do you give it to me?”.

“Come on. Wear it. I'm sure it will suit the new king a lot better than a common helm”.

“But I am not king!”.

“I'm sure you'd do a lot better than that guy. Well, I haven't got all day. Au revoir!”

The guard found himself speechless and Wiz Ardon finally left the room uninterrupted.

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

Wiz Ardon, now lacking the wrinkles, staff, long white hair and beard, but not the frown, entered an inn in Aesregnum's capital and ordered a drink. The place was pretty crowded with people of all sorts. Several of them discussed cheerfully and laughed in (drunken) merriment. Others would share the latest gossip and gasp at the scandalous news they heard. Some people sat alone, but there were not many of those.

Wiz soon noticed a girl that looked to be in her late teens next to him examining him. Her dark appearance of both complexion and hair made her stick apart from the mostly blonde people around her.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Many problems, but I don't think I got any with you”.

“Very witty”.

“You're Odcysgod, aren't you?”

“You've got a good eye, girl. I've never appeared as Odcysgod in this look”.

“Everyone says I see very badly. I suppose things seem more blurry than they should, but I don't know what they should actually look like”.

“Ha. Do not let them tell you your sight is bad. The only matter is that you see the world differently than they do. Just like me, I see everything very much differently than other people do, but do I let them put glasses on my nose? No!”.

“Glasses? You mean like those things people from other worlds wear in front of their eyes?”.

“That would be correct”.

“They look silly”.

“That would be correct”.

“There's a poisonous snake behind you”.

“That would be correct”.

“This is ridiculous”.

“Ridiculous is my middle name”.

“People don't have middle names in Argenturegnum”.

“I've travelled a lot”.

“And why have you stopped now?”.

“Who said I did?”.

“You've stayed here for a long time”.

“I came here to drive away the Maelstrom, because others who should be doing that seem incapable of that. Then, I got sidetracked with all those magical dangers around. I'm leaving soon, though”.

“Where are you going next?”.

“After the Plaguemaster. I stopped the Plagues he began on Bermington and Little Hine, but he escaped. I believe he has fled the kingdom”.

“Why are you telling me all this?”.

“You're asking. Why not?”.

“You are generally described as hard to reach. I think you're feeling lonely and need a friend”.

“Nonsense. I'm perfectly fine”.

“Here you are, though, talking to a complete stranger. You're leaving soon. Why don't you take me with you?”.

“No. I work alone. I don't have a sidekick”.

“Is that why you're not joining the Nexus Force?”.

“What?”.

“You said you were fighting the Maelstrom on your own initiative. Isn't that the Nexus Force's job, though? Why are you not working with them?”.

“You will find that the Nexus Force is particularly unreliable lately”.

“What do you mean?”.

“The fools are having a civil war. As if fighting the Maelstrom wasn't enough. I didn't care to stick by and watch minifigures fight each other, so I left. And I'm now doing the job that the Nexus Force is neglecting”.

“It's true that we've had more Maelstrom and less Nexus Force lately”.

At this point, Wiz received the beer he'd ordered. He drank a little, but then spat it out back into his cup; the innkeeper looked at him angrily as if that was a personal insult.

“Yah. I don't like beer”.

“Then, why are you drinking beer?”.

“I am celebrating my freedom to mention drinks”.

“What?”

“You wouldn't understand”, Wiz said and stood up.

“You're leaving?”.

“Yes”.

“So, you came here to drink a sip of beer and then spit it out? Sounds like you really need a friend. My offer still stands”.

“And I still reject it. Bye”.

~~~***---***~~~

Wiz fell on the ground, his momentum causing the fall to hurt more. As he did, he felt the smooth ground, made of a dark blue material similar to both crystal and ice, shake, as if responding to his fall by oscillating. The feeling was only momentary, though, because the ground became fully still instantly afterwards, which was more fitting to the eerie silience and dim lighting of the place. Wiz looked around him and he saw smooth dark blue semi-transparent crystal stretching all around him, never ending, though a light mist eventually blocked his vision.

The ground shook again, this time also vibrating. It stopped again. The ground shook. This time, Wiz was able to distinguish the shaking momentarily lowering only to increase again before it finally stopped. And then it came again. Every time it happened again, Wiz could discern an accompanying sound better, like a loud rhythmic beat of sorts. In the end, it hit him. The shaking and the sound, they seemed to resemble a beating heart. Did it accompany his heartbeat? No, his was faster at the moment. Then whose heartbeat was that?

Another shake and Wiz realised they were getting stronger. He looked down on the ground. He could see colours on the other side that were not blue. There was something down there! Or someone!

Wiz began to hit the ground, shaking or not, with everyting he got. Would he finally reach the other side and find what he was missing till then? On the next shake, the ground cracked. Wiz attacked it savagely.

Punch after punch, his hands getting bloody, the ground under him came nearer and nearer to breaking. Wiz kept going, not letting the pain get in his way. Punch, punch, punch, punch. Finally, Wiz delivered a blow at the same time as a seriously hard tremor of the ground occurred and the ground below and around him shattered into thousands of small shards, some of them hurting him.

Wiz began to fall. The shape he'd seen earlier looked more like a shadow now and as Wiz passed through it dissolved into smoke and Wiz fell towards the infinite darkness he'd revealed to be under the crystal.

Wiz was falling, shards all around him. The fall would never end. He was doomed to be eternally stuck in limbo. As he made that thought, he suddenly stopped falling and his surroundings changed. He was in a plain at night, stars and the moon illuminating his environment. And in front of him, some distance away, a little girl stood. Wiz examined her and soon recognised her. It was the girl from his village. The one who'd let him into her family's library. The one who had bid him farewell when he was to leave to apprentice under Geidrich. The one who had died like everybody else in his village. And he, the sole survivor now stood before her.

“Come back, Wiz Ardon”, the girl spoke. “You have strayed from the path. You need to return”, she spoke with an eerie mysterious voice, that seemed to come from a great distance.

For some reason, those words cast fear into his heart and he turned around and began to run. He ran as fast he could, as fast as his legs could take him. And then... he was not running. No, he wasn't. He was lying on his bed instead.

As soon as realisation dawned on Wiz's confused mind, he shot up hastily. This wasn't the first time he'd dreamed of that girl lately and he wondered why she haunted his sleep. It was probably survivor's guilt, but why didn't his parents appear or Garvus? He knew them a lot better. He'd barely ever talked to that girl. He had no luck in answering that question, as he didn't any of the previous nights he'd woken up with her in his mind.

He recalled the other part of his dream. The details were already beginning to pour out of his mind, but he remembered the basic idea. The feeling that he was missing something, that someone should be there, but wasn't also plagued his mind, not allowing him any moment of peace.

Wiz got up from the bed and got dressed. It was really early, but he had no hope of getting any more sleep. He had much to do anyway. Once he was out, he took in the sight of the little Spook River village in the barely existent light of a day that had not dawned, yet. He remembered that originally, before Crux exploded, this location was part of Gleswin, the same land as Kingston, Ellwen's domain. He tried to repress a feeling of relief he wasn't so close to her as he might have been in other times.

Wiz walked with determination towards a lone mountain near the village. One early waker saw him looking towards the mountain and came close to him moving his hands frantically.

“No. Don't go that way. Bad bad place. Cursed they say. Mysterious evil things dwell up in that mountain. Those who visit it, never come back”.

“Thanks for the warning. That's exactly what I'm looking for”.

The man's mouth gaped open, as he found nothing to say. Before he regained his composure, Wiz had already walked a long distance and was too far. The man returned to his business with a flustered look, muttering something about adventurers, madmen and finding one's death in agony.

About half an hour later, Wiz was at the foot of the mountain and he began his ascent. Having visited it before, he was more aware of the best paths to use for climbing up the mountain faster and safer. In some areas of the mountain, he saw Stromlings and other Darklings, not all of which he recognised, wandering about. At the times he was seen, the poor charging Maelstromlings suffered smashing in flames. The sight of them reminded Wiz of the business that had brought him to Aesregnum. He had intended to drive away the Maelstrom as effectively as he could. Instead he had been caught up in chasing mad sorcerers and magical beasts and now he'd left Aesregnum while the Maelstrom was still there. He didn't like that, but the Plaguemaster, an incompetent stupid sorcerer though he might have been, could still cause a lot of harm.

Soon enough he found the path he was looking for, a path that even the beings of Maelstrom seemed to avoid. It was a path that seemed to be enclosed between two series of large, irregular, but mostly round-looking rocks. Wiz entered the path and immediately he felt a difference in the atmosphere, a chill both outside and inside his body. Despite that, he went on.

As he followed the slowly ascending path, the rocks around him began to have less and less irregular features and one by one they began to look more and more like bodiless heads. Their facial features were still pretty rough, but what they were supposed to resemble was obvious.

One rock's mouth moved and a hoarse, but booming deep voice came out, “DON'T!”.

Wiz woke past it and another rock opposite the previous one, but a little farther in, continued, “GO!”.

Another rock spoke this time, “ANY!”.

And another “FURTHER!”.

“DOOM!”.

“AND!”.

“INSUFFERABLE!”.

“DEATH!”.

“LIE!”.

“AHEAD!”.

“LEAVE!”.

“NOW!'.

“OR”.

“BE”.

“CURSED!”.

“FOREVER!”.

The rocks continued to give their warnings, but Wiz ignored them. He walked on and on until the rocks began to become less regular again. At some point, they stopped talking. He went a little further and then was met with a dense greenish mist lingering over the path before him. Wiz entered it and continued.

It was not long before a figure materialised before him. Whether he came from nowhere or from within the mist, Wiz did not know. A warrior of monstrous proportions was standing before him. His hair, eyes, skin, clothes and gear were all some shade of gray. He looked like a black and white photo of the actual warrior, like he should be coloured, but for some reason all colour had left him. He also happened to be transparent with a sword almost as big as the one he held sticking right through him, black steins all around.

“Stop right there, young challenger and walk no further”, he spoke with a loud deep and yet otherworldly voice. “No one passes through my lands without dueling me first. Lose and suffer a horrible death. Win and you shall be allowed to pass and see the great glories of my castle. Be warned, though, no knight has before managed to get through me!”.

“Their swords seem to have, though”, Wiz replied and with one abrupt motion of his arm the apparition was forced to stand aside.

“And what do you mean by that, you treacherous worm? Come back, you coward! Your trickery cannot work on me!” the man spoke as Wiz passed him by, but for all he said, he seemed unable to come any nearer to Wiz as he left.

Soon the warrior disappeared behind a turn and his voice faded unnaturally quickly. Wiz walked on and it was not long before a second apparition made her appearance. A tall slender woman stood before him staring at the world stretching below them. She seemed to be too tall like the warrior was too big, but that only made her more impressive and beautiful raher than fearful and strong-looking. She was wearing a white dress, white like her deathly pale complexion and had long silk black hair that waved ever so slightly even though there was no wind. She looked like a gray echo as well. Her pretty grey eyes seemed to look down on everything with their superior look. There was a terrible beauty about the woman, marred only by the dark bruises on her neck.

Suddenly, the woman turned her head towards the approaching Wiz. Her face until then mostly expressionless, now seemed to change as her mouth curved into an adorable smile and her eyes assumed a flirtateous gaze. A delightful chuckle escaped her grayish full red lips and sounded like the music of a bell.

“Another suitor?” she said with a melodic voice. “I'm gonna have to do something with all these men falling in love with me. I thought that coming up to this mountain would stop them, but it just made them come after me here”, another chuckle. “I'd be lying, though, if I said I didn't enjoy it. I was just so sorry for the poor Count Semerald, taking his own life over me”, she laughed again. “Would you imagine that? People dying for their unrequited love for me. Silly men! I guess there's something about me that drives them mad. But you would know! That's why you've come. Well, I must tell you, I do not compromise. I didn't before and I will not now. Only the best can have me, because of course I am the best. Three tasks I'm gonna give you and if you succeed in all of them, you may have my hand forever. For your first task, you're gonna have to find the Grail of the Blood Jewels in the Sea of Infinite Bottoms and use it to fill the Vessel of Eternal Leaking with Wine made from the Grapes of the Black Poison Dragon Vine and bring it to me to drink... Where are you going?” the last sentence had not sounded as sweet and melodic as earlier; instead it sounded angrier and a little high-pitched.

Wiz had just passed by the woman and ignored her, continuing his walk. The ghost woman did not seem happy about this neglection.

“How dare you decline my love? I am Melistra the Magnificent. Melistra the Wonderful. Melistra the Terrible!”.

As the apparition shouted “Terrible!” he hair turned into flames and her eyes became red. Claws grew in her fingers and her voice turned into a horrific scream. Flames appeared all around Wiz and they came dangerously near him, but none of them ever touched him. Wiz never looked back and Melistra seemed to lose her voice. She didn't bother him again.

The next phantom was not gray, but greenish and more transparent than the other two. He also seemed to be parted with the lower half of his body. His face, next to the ground, as with no legs he couldn't stand, showed signs of very progressed decay.

“Hey, hey. Hey, HEY, hey, buddy! You mind catching my legs and giving them to me? Hey, hey, buddy”, he spoke with a rough voice.

Wiz ignored him.

“Buddy, hey, buddy, hey, HEY, buddy! Why won't you bring me my legs?”

No response.

“Fine, buddy. You are forcing me into ways I do not like, but it was your choice!”.

The green man's torso and legs began to float and came together to stand in front of Wiz.

“You'd be better off, if you'd met me in life. Then, I would have just robbed you of your money. Now, you're gonna be robbed of your soul as well!”.

The man gave a creepy hair-raising shriek and jumped for Wiz's chest. He bumped on it and fell to the ground, his lower half getting separated again. There was a shocked expression on his face just before Wiz's foot found itself onto it and the apparition burst into green smoke.

As Wiz proceeded up the path, the mist became denser and more and more apparitions appeared until in the end the path was packed with them on both sides. Some of them were gray-ish, some were green-ish, some were blue-ish, few were white-ish, some seemed almost solid and some seemed to be just transparent like glass, barely visible if you were not looking for them. Some were larger than life, some were smaller, some were normal. Some looked lifelike, some were decayed and some took monstrous or faerie forms. Some had subtle hints of their death, some were more obvious, some had died gruesome deaths, some you couldn't even tell what they'd died from.

A blue normal-sized woman in her middle age with nothing betraying the means of her death, “My son! I need you to deliver a message to my son! Please! It is absolutely urgent”.

A dirty old man sitting on the ground with his arm stretched forward and upward holding a small cup, “Coin for an old beggar? What's one coin to you?”.

A horse-sized green hand attempting to grab him, but failing.

A young gray boy with a lost distressed look, “My mommy? Have you seen my mommy? I was separatedd from her. Please, help me find her”.

An ancient old man with long hair growing out of his head, chin and ears, rambling on and on, ignoring a huge hole on his stomach, “And of course if we add two pinches of cheerfulness and one ounce of calmness, the draught will turn a magnificent lilac and will be almost ready. Two more ingredient and some stirring and you'll have the cure of flame-chickenpox. But what do you think, young sir, would it be possible for someone to ascend the Tower of Infinite Stairs, if he made three steps forward, one to his right, one backward, one towards the seventh dimension and then repeat a hundred and thiry four times?”.

A white illuminescent woman with angelic wings on her back and a harp in her hands, playing music and singing the world's most beautiful melody.

A man whose hair, hands and feet were snakes hissed at him and tried to bite him, but couldn't come close enough.

A bodiless head with a dumb expression, “One plus one is equal to... eer, three. Two plus two is... Can you help me with that, pal?”.

Another head was counting, “Five million four hundred seventy six thousand thirty five, Five million four hundred seventy six thousand thirty six. Oh hey, pal. Whatsya doin'? Oh man! I forgot where I was. Now, I need to start all over again. Curse you life-possessor, curse you! One, two, three, four...”.

A drowned woman, still dripping wet, “Cold, so cold. It's so cold. Sir, can you help warm me up? Maybe if I sucked the heat out of your body I wouldn't be so cold. So cold...”.

A woman that looked more like a tree than a human.

“I am selling this special purple banana, only for a hundred platinum pieces! It's a chance of a lifetime. Buy it now and enjoy the profit for your whole lives. I am telling you you won't find it cheaper. I am almost harming myself by selling it at so low a price!”

“Nonsense, this purple banana wouldn't be worth more than one platinum piece!”.

“Well, you wouldn't know missus, as you never cared to buy one. Maybe, this young mister is interested in my purple banana”.

“Come near m'boy and I'll tell you your fortune. Show me your hand”.

“The ogres have been awfully active lately. I need to assemble a strike team to drive them back whence they came from. Care to join?”.

“That is a very interesting hat you have there, young man. If you let me have a closer look at it, I'm sure I'll be able to tell what magical properties it has”.

“You, sir, have deceived us all along! You had us think you are a human, but I now realise you are only a Blogplaf! Give me your hand and I shall reveal your lies to all!”.

“Your future is grim, mister. Only suffering lies forth. Be mindful of the treachery the blonde will lead you to. Void lies in the future that way!”.

“You look tired, sir. Why don't you sit with us and have a drink? Maybe play some cards, too. You look like a lucky man. I'm sure you'll make profit out of this, too”.

“Do you know Necromancer Ballrof? I need to contact him, so that he brings me back to life”.

“I bet a thousand intergalctic credits you can't touch my face. No one has succeed, yet, but I'm sure you've got a fair chance. Shall you try?”.

“They broke in and killed me. Killed my parents. Killed my siblings... They killed us all. ALL OF US!”.

“Reginald and I had a contract! Yet, he seems to have failed to do his part. I need you to find him and force him to do as he must”.

“Take my Balaren Blade and with it smite justice and revenge upon my enemies, who unrightfully killed me and took over my clan!”.

“Take my hand and I shall give you my love forever!”.

Wiz passed by dozens and dozens of ghosts, some ghastly, some not and some fair. Some knew of their death, some didn't, some just wanted to finish some business, some just wanted to lure Wiz into joining their ranks. None of them managed to make him stray from his path.

Higher and higher he went, until the rocks on either side of him vanished to be replaced by clouds and empty air, as the path was no longer going up the mountain, but just up in the air instead.

Eventually, Wiz came to a stop. He hadn't reached the end of the path -if there was one. That was not what he was looking for. He was looking for a particular ghost instead. Wiz looked at the transparent bespectacled man who looked to be in his sixties.

“Oh, it's you again”, he said with an irritated expression.

“I need to know the location of a sorcerer known as the Plague Master”, Wiz replied in a business-like manner.

“People usually say hello first”, the ghost responded.

“I just need to know this and will be on my way again”.

“Have some manners, boy!”.

“I do not intend to be slowed by trying to be gentle with the phasmatical imprint of a man who's long dead and which only acts like it has feelings”.

“Do you think that just because I am your great-great-great-great-great-great-grand-uncle, I will allow you to treat me like this?”.

“My great-great-great-great-great-great-grand-uncle's ghost; not him”.

“If you continue like this, I'm not going to tell you anything. Though I doubt I have anything to tell you anyway. It's not like I know the answers to all your questions!”.

“You and I both know that your sight is not as restrained as your eyes are. And if you don't want to tell me, I can become more forceful”.

“Ha! Your threatening ways do not intimidate me. Besides, the other one had a lot more power on apparitions than you do. I'd be more inclined to fear him”.

“The other one? Who are you talking about? Are other people coming to talk to you?”.

“Do my ears deceive me or does my high and mighty great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson not know everything?” the ghost was amused that he had an advantage on Wiz.

“If he had the power to visit the Lost Path and leave unscathed -he did, didn't he?- he'd have to be someone of great power. Considering the Council of the Enchanters were against visiting this place, it would have to be either Ellwen -who is a woman, so she can't be he- or... Did the man talking to you have yellow eyes?”.

“I wouldn't know. He'd come disguised as you. But I wouldn't be fooled by such tricks. I knew immediately it wasn't you. I thought there was more darkness inside him than you. Though, to be fair, he knew how to be a gentleman unlike some other people”.

Wiz was only half-listening. If the yellow-eyed man had been there, asking questions, what did that mean? It depended on the question.

“What did he ask you? The man disguised as me?”.

“Even if I could tell you, I wouldn't”.

“Much help you've been!” Wiz muttered in an exasperated manner and then began going back where he came from, a distressed look coming back to his face.

“Hey, where are you going? I didn't answer your question, yet. I didn't mean it, I can tell you about the Plague Master! He's in Roveros, a city in Esindum...! What took over him?”.

Wiz did not appear to listen to what the phantom was saying and disappeared into the green mist.

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

Wiz was standing before his village again. Burnt, destroyed buildings lay all around him, small flames still blazed here and there in the sea of scorched black. Wiz was just frozen where he was, unable to look away. He felt tears fill his eyes, but they were never released. He couldn't move, not even blink. He was doomed to eternally look at another one of his life's failures; perhaps the biggest one. His life's greatest disappointment, loss, sorrow. He was cursed. Cursed by the magic of death. First Geidrich, then that. He pretended to be over it; to have moved on to bigger and better things. He told himself he helped others, when in fact he couldn't even help himself. He would never get over this. Never forget. Never forgive. The murderer or himself? Both.

The little girl was all of a sudden standing there, in the midst of everything. She seemed sad. Were there tears in her eyes as well?

“Turn back”, she said. “This isn't where you should be”.

“I cannot forget this. I cannot leave it behind. This is part of me now”.

“And yet you cannot live in the past. Find a way to keep the past without losing the future”.

“I... ah...”, Wiz didn't know what to say.

The girl was really crying, but she had a determined look on her eyes. She raised her arm and pointed at Wiz.

“Find the path”.

“What path? There is no path. My village is destroyed. My family's dead. YOU're dead... I am sorry that you died. I did not want you to be dead. But there is no path”.

“Don't be lost, Wiz Ardon”.

“You can't be lost, if you have nowhere to be”.

“But you have”, the girl's voice sounded distant, as she faded out of existence.

Wiz rose in his bed of dead grass. Another dream. His head was sweating and he didn't feel comfortable at all. He got up to try to clear his head. He hoped he could get more sleep, but he did not expect he would.

After walking a little, he looked up at the stars. They seemed to be mocking him, each of them shining as brightly as it could to draw his attention and then laugh at him for not being able to sleep. Their rays of light could peer deep into his soul and find the void he felt inside. The stars mocked him and gossiped about him to all of nature. Everything around him was laughing at him. The trees, the rocks, the earth, the grass. The sky, the stars, the unseen clouds.

“STOP THIS!' STOP MOCKING ME YOU STUPID STARS!!! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! WHAT DO YOU WANT?! I don't know what you want. Please, I don't know”, his loud yells turning into a low whimper, Wiz's echo could still be heard breaking the silence around him,

“What am I supposed to do? I don't know. I thought I was following the path. Stars are supposed to lead you to your destination in stories, but these stars have only been misleading for me! YOU BROUGHT ME THROUGH DETOURS, YOU STUPID STARS!!!”.

In his enraged state, Wiz fell to his knees and began furiously searching the ground. He found a stone, picked it up and getting up, threw it towards the sky as far as he could. He heard the thud of the stone falling back down shortly afterwards.

Wiz realised what he had just done and began laughing -a little too maniacally.

“Wiz, you are ridiculous. Throwing stones at the stars. What am I doing? I know what I'm supposed to do. There's no point in having doubts. There's nothing better I should be doing”.

Then, why do I feel like I'm doing something wrong?

Wiz looked up at the sky again. Elomar was shining bright tonight. The Bright Star flared in the sky and Wiz felt like it was only for him. It seemed to be calling him.

“Sorry, Elemiere. I can't answer that call. I just can't”.

Entering Roveros wasn't as easy as he'd expected. When he arrived in that part of the Crux System he was met with soldiers of two different armies moving about in a battle field and trying to destroy each other.

“Foolish humans. Why do they have to always fight each other?” Wiz complained to himself as he looked at the battle going on about him in distaste.

When in the Lost Path, Wiz had freaked about the man who'd talked to his ancient relative. However, he'd later calmed and come to the conclusion he couldn't do anything about that. Instead, he travelled to Roveros, the city to which he'd been directed by the ghost, even if he appeared to not have listened at the time.

He was not bothered too much about the battle. He kept walking in his slow pace -slow in relation to the soldiers' running-, while lasers and arrows flew about him. Grenades exploded, swords and spears met each other and with shields, but no one seemed to turn his attention to the peculiar figure in a wizard hat walking amongst them. Only one soldier noticed him at one point and charged at him with a loud battle cry, but Wiz merely lifted his arm lazily and the man was flung away.

The battle raged on around him, but Wiz passed through it as if he was a droid. Soon he came closer to the city wall and arrived in an area where the battle hadn't, yet. Soldiers came from the city's gates from time to time and some would retreat back to it. Wiz finally arrived at the gate and knocked twice. The well-sized metal gates vibrated, perhaps more than they were supposed to be. Instead of the vibration decreasing, though, it increased until it was quite audible.

The wall of Roveros stretched really high above him and Wiz could barely notice a little figure appear in a small balcony at half its height. The figure seemed to look at him and then disappeared. Wiz examined the lines on his hands, while waiting for something to happen. A few minutes later, a human-sized door in the gates opened and a guard walked out of it cautiously, pointing his pike at Wiz. He was wide-eyed as he said something in the local language. Wiz did not even bother to try to understand what the man was saying.

The next moment, Wiz and the guard had switched places. The guard was shocked to see him disappear and looked around in surprise.

“Thank you”, Wiz said and the man turned around to see him in more surprise.

The guard moved his hands frantically, while he spoke something in his language. Wiz ignored him and walked in through the open door. More guards were there and they pointed their pila at him in fear. The other guard came from behind and placed the point of his weapon on his back.

“Now that won't do, kind sirs”, he said and then jumped a superhuman leap over them.

He landed outside the circle they'd formed around him and began running.

“Bye! Have a nice evening!”.

The guards went after him, but Wiz soon was lost inside the city.

“What do we do now?” the guard who'd come out asked.

“Pretend this never happened and if they ask we know nothing”, another replied.

“Sounds good”.

The city of Roveros was an impressive one. It looked like there was a law against building small things as everything was big or even huge. Most buildings were made of some yellow stone and the architecture -reminiscent of our Indian and Arabian one- was magnificent. Colours of rich red, purple and blue adorned the buildings and streets in many forms. By far, though, the most impressive sight was the huge palace in the centre of the city, sticking out above anything else.

However, the city of Roveros was in a time of decline. The war it was engaged in had rendered its people unable to preserve the brightness of their city. The streets were dirty and some buildings were in various states of decay. The worst sight, though, was the people in the streets.

People were lying weakly in the streets with white-greeinish complexions and skull-like faces. They stared at Wiz with their tired eyes and Wiz could see the look of Death in them. The air smelled like disease. No one was walking about except for him. It was the Plague.

Wiz sighed. That imbecile sure causes a lot of trouble for his lack of talent. He purposefully walked through the diseased men, women and children towards the palace. Suddenly, he felt something pulling his hand behind. He looked back to see a young girl of six or seven years holding it. Her skin had a greenish tint. Wiz looked at the girl with a deadly expression and the girl stepped back, but did not stop holding his hand.

“Please sir. My mommy. Can you help my mommy?”.

“Let go, girl”, the Enchanter said crossly, his brows frowning most threateningly. “Delay me and you might kill everyone here!”.

“Please, sir”.

“I don't need your disease, girl. LET ME GO!”.

The girl finally let go, but also started crying.

“I can't help you like this. Run along”, Wiz turned around and left the little girl.

When Wiz arrived at the palace, he did not stop walking and instead began climbing its wall by walking on it. It wasn't long before he reached its golden roof. From there he began to survey the whole city below him with more than just his eyesight. His magical senses piercing into the fabric of reality and finding more than eyes ever could soon located what he was looking for. And he was approaching.

“Your persistence is becoming annoying”, a voice spoke accompanied by the materialisation of another man on the roof.

“I could say the same to you”.

“Why don't you leave me be? Can't you see that you can't stop me?”, the man, dressed in rich red and golden velvet, spoke.

“You are deluded if you think you can outmatch me”.

“What's your problem, really? Can't you let a colleague do his work? Look at them. Don't you love it?”.

“We are no colleagues, you fool!”.

“What are you talking about? Are we not both of the same class? You're a wizard just like me!”.

“Don't you ever dare to compare me to you ever again! You with your stolen magic and your stolen powers pretending to be a magical practicioner; you who could not cast the simplest spell without another's ideas and artefacts!”.

“What are you talking about?” the Plage Master now seemed distressed.

“I'm talking about that crystal you stole, without which you'd be useless”.

“Don't you dare! I'm just as worthy as you!”, the Plague Master yelled while he extended his arms forth, fire being conjured out of them.

Wiz laughed as the fire passed through him without hurting him, “Do you have any idea who I am, you idiot?”.

“How... but how?” the Plague Master was dumbfounded.

However, as he noticed a fiery spark growing in Wiz's eyes he decided finding out wasn't worth it. As such, he resorted to making a supernaturally long leap from the roof of the palace to another tall building. Wiz, reacting immediately, followed suit. A bolt of lightning was conjured from his hand towards the Plague Master. It missed him, as he dodged and struck a building's roof instead, but did not disappear. Another bolt appeared from his other hand, this one missing him on his other side. Wiz could hear the man's mocking laughter while the former was finishing his trap. The lightning bolts lost their connection with his hands and the buildings, bending around the sorcerer to form one circle together.

The Plague Master's laughter stopped abruptly once he realised he could not escape the circle. Instead, his face became a mask of anger.

“GET ME OUT. RELEASE ME!”.

Wiz did not pay his shouting any heed. He approached the trapped man slowly as if he didn't care much. When he finally reached the Plague Master he looked into his eyes with his own scowling ones and the other looked frightened.

“You are a disgusting insect. Little, unimportant, powerless. You tried to play the game of bigger people, but I know you for what you are. A disgusting, despicable, unloved, filthy insect. And you shall have the corresponding fate!”.

While Wiz talked the Plague Master began to shrink and deform. His white skin transitioned to brown. Two more limbs sprouted out of his torso and antennae grew on his head. In the end, only a cockroach was left where the sorcerer was standing before; that and a small crystal. The lightning disappeared and Wiz picked the crystal up.

“Ha. May you live long years, fool, to ponder your filthy existence”.

Wiz then turned around and was bothered with that man no more. He only had to undo his last curses, but that wouldn't take long. He looked over the city, focused on the disease that had struck it and performed a few moves of his arms like a conductor. He felt the tension of the plague disappear and his job was finally done.

“Impressive. I would have thought it'd take more to defeat someone who can do so much harm”, a female voice came from the side.

Wiz looked at the direction the voice came from and saw the woman that he'd met in that inn in Aesregnum.

“You?! What are you doing here? How did you get here?”.

The woman smiled mischievously, “How did you get here?”.

“Are you forgetting that I am an Enchanter?”.

“Well, I have my ways, too”, her smile widened.

“Did you follow me here?”.

“I might have. But perhaps not. Perhaps, it is a coincidence”, the woman was enjoying this conversation a lot.

“What do you want from me? I don't even know your name”.

“Well, you never asked. It's Nirthariel, by the way”.

“Well, Nirthariel. What is it exactly that you want?”.

“Seeing as we happened to meet again, I thought I could renew my offer, in case you've changed your mind. Do you want a travelling companion?”.

“No. I thought I was pretty clear at that. I work alone”.

“Yet, you seem like you need the company. Maybe, you don't want me, but perhaps you can always go to the friends you already have. I'm sure they'll be happy to see you”.

“You don't really know that”.

“Well, mister Odcysgod, I am sad that our meeting did not lead anywhere, but I won't push you. I'll leave now as I understand you wish to be left alone. But be on the watch-out. We might meet again some time. Goodbye now, Wiz Ardon!”.

“Goodbye”, Wiz watched her walk away, his mind very confused.

What was this? Who was this woman really and what were her true intentions? Wiz had no idea what she could really want or how she'd found him and that scared him. He was not allowed to contemplate this, though, as his stream of thoughts was interrupted.

“HEY, YOU UP THERE!” someone shouted from the streets. “MISTER WIZARD! PLEASE COME DOWN!”.

Wiz grudgingly decided to oblige -having used magic to understand what the man had said. If he was asked to apologise for anything, he was out of there, though. He didn't need pesky minifigures questioning his actions.

The enchanter jumped from the building's roof and despite the height instead of crashing, he landed with elegance. Two guards were standing there and looked at him with wide eyes.

“What is it then?” he asked, some irritation in his voice.

“Her Majesty, the Queen has requested a meeting with you, sir”, one of the guards explained, not even realising that Wiz was in fact speaking a different language.

Great. More royals. As if the other fools were not enough, Wiz thought.

“I think I'll pass”, he replied.

“Let me rephrase, sir. The Queen has demanded that you meet her”, the guards were now pointing their spears at him.

Wiz sighed. He could definitely take them or escape without even confronting them, but why did it always have to come to that? So much trouble either way...

“Fine. I'll come”.

Wiz was led to the palace and into the room where the Queen was currently to be found. When Wiz entered a room with several officers and politicians around a table, a royal on their throne at the other end of the room, he had a very strong feeling of deja vu. As soon as he entered, all conversation ceased. That wasn't a good start.

“The wizard, I presume”, the Queen spoke from the other side of the table.

Despite the crisis her land was in the Queen did not seem to have suffered for it. She was dressed in the richest shades of red and golden, her black hair braided in an elaborate hairstyle, the white foundation on her face making a contrast with her bright red lipstick Her eyes, similarly decorated with striking black makeup and eyelashes emphasised with mascara, had an intelligent, ambitious, decisive look on them. And they were focused on him.

“Enchanter, but yes. That is me”.

“And what is your name, Enchanter?”.

“You may call me Umbra, the Duck Knight, your Majesty”.

“Well, Umbra the Duck Knight, I am Queen Alhasima”.

“Delighted”, Wiz replied bowing his head slightly, but his tone might have been a tad sarcastic.

“So, Umbra. Earlier this day, you made quite a show of yourself. What looked like a duel between magicians”.

“I'd scarcely call it a duel. Pest control would be a better term”.

“And what of the other magician?”.

“He has been taken care of. He will no longer cast his plague to your city”.

“You're saying this plague was of magical origin. And you took care of it?”.

“You will soon notice all those struck by it getting better”.

“And would you mind staying with us until I can confirm that. I'm afraid I can't know it's not you causing the plague”.

“Your Majesty, I assure you that if I was your enemy I'd do you more harm if I stuck around than if I left. Besides, I will not be restrained”.

“But you will not be restrained, sir Umbra. You will be fully free to move around and we can certainly provide you with something to do while you would stay here”.

“What are you talking about exactly?”.

“Our poor people are facing a disaster in this war. We're losing more and more people and the plague put us into an even greater disadvantage. All we want is to even our chances”.

There it was. In the end, everyone just wanted him to fight their wars. Whether they were stupid fat kings, pretentious leaders of the Nexus Force or ambitious, impressive queens, they all just wanted him to kill people for them. Alhasima wanted to restrain him as well. He remembered his master, Geidrich. He'd been forced to stay in Argenturegnum, because of the petty wars of minifigures as well. The world was despicable.

“I am sorry, but I do not intervene in minifigure wars”.

“People are getting killed”.

“Then, maybe those people should have thought this through before they started a war”, the volume of Wiz's voice rose a tad.

“Fine, sir Umbra. If you do not wish to be of assistance to us, your presence is no longer required. General, let's continue where we left off”, the Queen sounded a bit offended.

Wiz couldn't care less. He began to walk away.

“Yes, your Majesty”, a voice spoke from behind. “The enemy has a few units of spearmen stationed here next to these forests and near our archers over there”.

Wiz stalled a litte at the door, curious to hear what the man's strategy would be.

“Since our archers are in danger, I propose we send the cavalry to stop the enemy units, as it will arrive quickly. In the distraction that will follow, the archers can release their own attacks to aid the cavalry. That will give time for our own foot soldiers to arrive and give their spearmen the last strike”.

The door was now open and Wiz was clearly not moving, waiting to hear how this proposal would be met. To his horror the response was that of general agreement. Some people even went all the way to say the idea was ingenious.

You've got to be kidding me. No wonder these people are losing the war. They're getting their own men slaughtered.

He put one foot forward. This was not his problem. They may be idiots, but he shouldn't meddle with that... But if they were left alone, they'd get so many people killed. Wiz sighed.

I hate them.

He turned around.

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

Wiz was running. Never before had he ran from something with so much determination to escape. The peril was far too great. He'd never faced anything like it before. He was in an outdoors hallway, crossing through the gardens of a palace. He looked back and two soldiers were after him. Only two for now. That was good.

He was wearing brown pieces of armour minus the helmet. A round shield was hanging on his back,a sword was sheathed in his feather-shaped scabbard. The emblem of a duck adorned his chestplate. Unbrushed hair, unshaven face, distressed expression.

He finally came to the end of the hallway and jumped over a few bushes of blossoming flowers. A little more green and then he was descending some stairs. Two more soldiers appeared from his right side, but they were still behind him. He still had a chance. The stairs ended and Wiz ran across the square that came next. He was almost to its end, about to enter the busy streets of Roveros when four more soldiers appeared in front of him. All hope was lost. He was surrounded. There was nothing he could do, but give up. Maybe he was doomed after all.

“General, please come to your senses!” one of the soldiers spoke. “I understand why you would feel nervous. It is only natural. But think about it, you are the hero of Ravira. You saved us and managed to sign a peace treaty with Lefiros. If not you, who else?”.

“Raulos, I think you've completely misunderstood my reasoning behind my escape attempt”.

“Oh look at you!” the soldier continued, not registering what Wiz had said. “The ceremony's about to begin and you're a mess. Didn't even shave. We must fix that and quick”.

Wiz tolerated being led around and people's messing with his hair and chin only because he knew he couldn't help it. Wait a second. He was an Enchanter. When exactly was it that he'd forgotten he could escape any time? What had happened to him while in Roveros?

He was now being led through Roveros's biggest temple. Did he dare leave now, with the whole city's eyes turned to him? He was placed at the end of the church opposite the door, a few guards behind him making sure he wouldn't try to leave again. The High Priest smiled to him reassuringly, but Wiz felt nothing but reassured. He looked back at the huge hall. It was filled with people, leaving only one aisle empty for people to arrive in the place where the ceremony was to be held. All of the interior balconies were cramped with people as well.

A few more people, necessary to the ceremony according to Ravira's traditions, arrived and took their places. Only one person was missing now and she was to come very soon. Wiz waited nervously. Five minutes. Ten minutes. At fifteen minutes, the cheers of the people outside the temple, the ones who couldn't find any space for them inside, alerted Wiz of her arrival. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Queen Alhasima entered the temple through its great gateway. She was dressed in the deepest blue, as local traditions would dictate, and there were many adornments on her fingers, arms and neck. Wiz bit his lip and frowned as he watched the Queen walk down the aisle with a wide smile. She finally reached the end of it and looked at Wiz with bright eyes.

“Are you ready, my love?” she asked.

“I doubt I ever will be”, Wiz mumbled.

Never before had he bowed to any enemy or danger, in the end getting through all of them. How was it that this woman had trapped him into this wedding?

“Oh, don't you worry, love. All will go well. You shall see. We're the perfect match. Let's begin the ceremony”.

However, before the High Priest could start anything, a soldier entered the temple and began shouting, “Lefiros's King is dead! His son has taken over! He has declared war anew! Lefiros troops are attacking our borders as we speak!”.

“They dare interrupt my wedding?!” the Queen was furious. “I'll show them. We'll show them!”.

Wiz heaved a sigh of relief and felt he could finally take actual breaths. Was it bad that he was happy about this turn of events? He looked around him. A sort of panic had taken over the people in the room. This was the perfect moment to escape unnoticed. He made a break for it. As he reached the gateway, he looked back and saw the Queen's eyes turned on him. Their eyes met and Wiz saw confusion and shock in them. Well, he certainly handled that well.

This time no one seemed to go after him. He arrived in the palace's roof, where he'd parked his home, with no problems. Wiz made an abrupt move of his hand as if he had been pulling an invisible rope and the house began to shrink until it fell into his pocket.

“You're leaving us?” a voice spoke from behind him. “Now, of all times?” .

Wiz turned around to find Raulos.

“Don't worry. I'm not abandoning you. I just discovered how to get that enchantment on my house right and I need to go do that”.

“But you're still leaving. Right when Lefiros attacked us again! We need you”.

“Nonsense! I've taught you enough so that you may hold yourselves without me. Besides, I will come back”.

“The Queen will not like this and frankly nor do I”.

“Well, you know what, Raulos? Neither you nor the Queen control me. So, if I choose to leave, I leave! Good luck”.

With these final words, Wiz disappeared and Raulos was left alone to sigh in disappointment.

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

It was true that Wiz had discovered how to “get that enchantment on his house right”. His old ambition to have his house able to move from one place to another could be realised. But it was not true that he intended to go make it happen. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but the process of doing it was more complex than that.

Wiz had set his home up for the night, but didn't go in immediately. He looked up to the star sky. Elomar was still shining bright, extending its summons to him. He felt there was a part of him that really wanted to answer that call. Should he? He tried to remember why he'd avoided it all this time and couldn't? Was the temptation blinding him or was there never a true reason? Was it because he was afraid? Afraid of what? Ellwen was a friend, not an enemy. What was there to be afraid of? Her knowledge, perhaps. Her knowledge of all his decisions and actions. But still why should he be afraid of that? He hadn't made any bad decicions. Why should Ellwen criticise him for anything?

“Shut up!” he yelled.

He didn't know why it was such a bad idea, but he knew it was. There was no reason for little voices in his head to question that and get him confused. His path was clear, wasn't it? But was it? Where should he go now? Back to Aesregnum, perhaps. Maelstrom was still there. But was this the place where he was most needed? And was it the place where he most needed to be? Wiz... didn't know. Angry with his own self, for making all these thoughts that brought nothing but confusion, he looked up at Elomar one last time and then went into his home.

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

He was in a forest he knew all too well. He'd visited it many times in his dreams. Bright green leaves and almost golden bark, the soothing sound of a forest's life, of the breeze blowing through the leaves and a faint cheerful tune in the background always there, but always out of reach; all sorts of mysteries lying behind those trees and the next adventure just waiting ahead of him.

Someone passed him by in running speed and all Wiz could make out was a blur of waving blonde hair. He didn't even think about it and began to run after the woman. Every now and then, he would see her momentarily appear among the trees, a golden flash in the green of the forest, but he could never reach her. Every time he would get closer, the woman would somehow slip out of his grasp. But Wiz knew he had to reach her. It was the only thing that was important.

Eventually, the woman entered a clearing and Wiz followed, knowing that she would stop there. But when he got there, she was nowhere to be found. Only a little pond was there. Wiz was distressed he'd lost the woman, but he felt a new call coming from the pond. There was something missing. A piece of the puzzle lost. A part of the picture ripped away. And it was calling from the pond. He'd lost the woman for now, but at least he had found the broken piece that created this ancient void inside him. So ancient it existed before even the woman could enter his dreams.

He approached the pond, slowly and with caution, as he was afraid that quick motion would scare whatever was inside away. He reached the edge of the pond and looked inside. Two burning yellow eyes looked at him from within and Wiz jumped back scared and feeling his own eyes burnt.

How could this be? How could this all be a trap? What was going wrong? He couldn't understand.

“Chase her, Wiz. Chase her all you want”, a familiar, yet different than he knew it, voice spoke. “But you will never get to her”.

Wiz looked to his left and saw Geidrich. His eyes were hollow, his hair thin and his skin barely there to cover his bones.

“You cannot get her. Instead, you will always find him in front of you. The yellow eyes are following you”.

“And the Doom of Malidor awaits you”, said another voice, cruel and devoid of sentiment; it was coming from the pond.

Wiz did not dare to look what was there. Instead, he woke up in his bed, soaked in sweat. What did these dreams mean? He couldn't take it any longer. He had to talk to her. He'd lied to Raulos at the time, but maybe his words would come true after all... He was going to answer the call of Elomar; the Bright Star; the Day Star.

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