different. He wanted to know of his own fate, a question few would have the courage to ask. He wanted to know if he could dare to hold hope in his heart.
He made his way deep into the mountain, through a maze of hallways and stairs, to stand before the door at last. Reaching beneath the front of his silk shirt and leather doublet, he drew forth a small leather pouch embossed with his royal sigil, extracting a plain iron key. At first, the lock was stubborn, for it had not been opened in some time, but at last he heard the soft “click” as the bolt released .
He stepped through into a chamber which should have been musty, but wasn’t. There was a sort of charged energy about the place—it raised the hair on his arms and the back of his neck—and he wondered if it was merely the result of his own fear, or whether the Stone warned him to keep away.
It stood on a broad stone pedestal, covered with a dark green cloth to keep its surface free of dust, casting a benign glow that was the only source of light in the room. How innocent it looks, he thought, approaching with careful steps.
He called to the spirit of Shandor, who dwelled within: “It is I, the son of Aldamar, brother of your beloved. I have come seeking enlightenment.”
At first, the Stone merely continued to glow from beneath the green drape. Rain knew that Shandor did not like to be disturbed, but he also knew Shandor would not deny him, though he was no respecter of titles. Rain wasn’t just the High King, he was kin. He called to the Stone again.
“Farahin, nephew of Liathwyn, has come seeking enlightenment!”
At this, the glow increased dramatically. Shandor could not ignore the mention of his beloved’s name. Why have you summoned me? And why invoke the name of Liathwyn?
“I seek enlightenment that only you can give,” said Rain. “I do not disturb you without great cause. I don’t know if you can show me the fate that awaits me, or the outcome of the battle I must now fight, but I must know if there is any possibility of happiness.”
But why now? What has happened? You have changed somehow .
“I…I cannot tell you now, as I haven’t the time. My resolve wavers with every passing moment, and I fear the vision you will reveal, yet I must seek it. Will you show me the future? I must know of it, lest my courage falter.”
Shandor was silent for a moment. I dare not reveal it…you are kin to Liathwyn, and she would have me guard your spirit from harm. What I have seen will not please you. You must reconsider .
Rain’s heart sank, but he pressed on. “I cannot reconsider. I must know the truth.”
WHY must you? You will learn nothing more until you have revealed what drives you to this need . The Stone dimmed, as if emphasizing the point.
In answer, Rain took hold of the green silk and flung it aside, exposing the beautiful, impossibly complex crystal beneath. He did not look deep within…not yet. “I must know because…because after all these centuries, despite any expectation to the contrary, I am betrothed. I have perceived my life-mate, and I have sent her home to the Greatwood. I want to know whether I dare hope for happiness, for children, for any life at all! Now, does that satisfy you?”
The Stone flared, and then went dim again as Shandor considered. You have found a life-mate. How regrettable , he said. I tell you again, Farahin, do not seek to learn these truths. Love is far too painful an emotion—it will destroy your spirit .
“That may be true for some,” said Rain, knowing the statement would not go unnoticed. Shandor had been all but destroyed by his love of Liathwyn; his overwhelming grief had driven him into the Stone, from which he could no longer escape. Shandor gave the stone its power now—the power to reveal destiny, or to drive one mad. Shandor had loved Liathwyn so deeply that he had no other happiness, and she had chosen to leave him forever. Where she had gone, he could not follow. The bitterness
He made his way deep into the mountain, through a maze of hallways and stairs, to stand before the door at last. Reaching beneath the front of his silk shirt and leather doublet, he drew forth a small leather pouch embossed with his royal sigil, extracting a plain iron key. At first, the lock was stubborn, for it had not been opened in some time, but at last he heard the soft “click” as the bolt released .
He stepped through into a chamber which should have been musty, but wasn’t. There was a sort of charged energy about the place—it raised the hair on his arms and the back of his neck—and he wondered if it was merely the result of his own fear, or whether the Stone warned him to keep away.
It stood on a broad stone pedestal, covered with a dark green cloth to keep its surface free of dust, casting a benign glow that was the only source of light in the room. How innocent it looks, he thought, approaching with careful steps.
He called to the spirit of Shandor, who dwelled within: “It is I, the son of Aldamar, brother of your beloved. I have come seeking enlightenment.”
At first, the Stone merely continued to glow from beneath the green drape. Rain knew that Shandor did not like to be disturbed, but he also knew Shandor would not deny him, though he was no respecter of titles. Rain wasn’t just the High King, he was kin. He called to the Stone again.
“Farahin, nephew of Liathwyn, has come seeking enlightenment!”
At this, the glow increased dramatically. Shandor could not ignore the mention of his beloved’s name. Why have you summoned me? And why invoke the name of Liathwyn?
“I seek enlightenment that only you can give,” said Rain. “I do not disturb you without great cause. I don’t know if you can show me the fate that awaits me, or the outcome of the battle I must now fight, but I must know if there is any possibility of happiness.”
But why now? What has happened? You have changed somehow .
“I…I cannot tell you now, as I haven’t the time. My resolve wavers with every passing moment, and I fear the vision you will reveal, yet I must seek it. Will you show me the future? I must know of it, lest my courage falter.”
Shandor was silent for a moment. I dare not reveal it…you are kin to Liathwyn, and she would have me guard your spirit from harm. What I have seen will not please you. You must reconsider .
Rain’s heart sank, but he pressed on. “I cannot reconsider. I must know the truth.”
WHY must you? You will learn nothing more until you have revealed what drives you to this need . The Stone dimmed, as if emphasizing the point.
In answer, Rain took hold of the green silk and flung it aside, exposing the beautiful, impossibly complex crystal beneath. He did not look deep within…not yet. “I must know because…because after all these centuries, despite any expectation to the contrary, I am betrothed. I have perceived my life-mate, and I have sent her home to the Greatwood. I want to know whether I dare hope for happiness, for children, for any life at all! Now, does that satisfy you?”
The Stone flared, and then went dim again as Shandor considered. You have found a life-mate. How regrettable , he said. I tell you again, Farahin, do not seek to learn these truths. Love is far too painful an emotion—it will destroy your spirit .
“That may be true for some,” said Rain, knowing the statement would not go unnoticed. Shandor had been all but destroyed by his love of Liathwyn; his overwhelming grief had driven him into the Stone, from which he could no longer escape. Shandor gave the stone its power now—the power to reveal destiny, or to drive one mad. Shandor had loved Liathwyn so deeply that he had no other happiness, and she had chosen to leave him forever. Where she had gone, he could not follow. The bitterness
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