The Quest is Defined
When Simon awoke, he was tucked up in his warm bed. His headache was gone. He was naked. Who undressed me? Jhamed sat in an easy chair by his bed, gently sucking on a pipe and blowing smoke rings. Not Jhamed, please? “What happened? How did I get here? Did you undress me?”
Jhamed laughed. “Don’t worry, my friend. You don’t have anything that I haven’t seen before. In fact, as heroes go, you have nothing to worry about in that department.” He laughed again at Simon’s blushes. “I have seen beetroots with paler complexions. You had a small seizure, brought on by the stress of the day, I shouldn’t wonder. Manfred organised a stretcher party to carry you here. The nurse has checked you out. You’ll be fine after a good rest.”
Jhamed remained silent for a while, puffing on his pipe. Simon tried to collect his thoughts. Very little seemed to make much sense and he struggled to differentiate between his dreams and his reality. Am I dreaming now? He struggled with the covers and sat up, embarrassed again by his skinny physique and white, hairless chest.
“How are you feeling?” Jhamed asked. “Are you feeling well enough to get up and meet the others for dinner? If you like, you can eat here instead, I’ll order a tray?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather stay here and try to understand what is happening. It’s all rather a shock. I still think I’ll wake up at home soon.” I don’t know whether I would prefer that or this. I have never had a fit before, I should see a doctor. But it cleared my head. “Could you order some food for us both and stay and talk with me?”
So it was that they spent a long evening talking over all of the things that they had learned that day. Jhamed filled in details, where he could. Dinner was again excellent and the wine that came with it made Simon feel relaxed and mellow. Manfred popped in at one stage to check on Simon’s well-being and they chatted about trivia, ignoring the topics that burned in Simon’s mind. After Manfred left, he could hold back no longer and just blurted it out. “Jhamed, what is your ancestry?”
Jhamed smiled. “You’ve been burning to ask that question all day, haven’t you? You always do. In the Beginning, the elves were supposed to represent Jeohab and the dwarves Satania. But the First and Second Born were too strong willed and the Children soon lost interest in their game. The only real results were that elves had lots of rules, dwarves couldn’t care less about rules and the two races hated each other. I think that the elves have gotten over it by now, but as you saw today, the dwarves still have very strong feelings.”
“It’s also to do with the fact that the two races have very different interests and priorities. The elves love sunshine, trees and fresh air. They live in the forests. All living things, even dwarves, are precious to them. They care deeply about the environment. The dwarves hate the sun and live in the dark, delving deep into the earth. They are motivated by amassing great wealth in the form of gold and jewels. They don’t care if their digging destroys the environment. Trees are meant to be chopped down to provide them with energy. Both races keep very much to themselves. Elves have very little to do with anyone else unless they really have to. Dwarves do have a passable relationship with humans, but only because they need to trade some of their treasures for food and other necessities. So it would be very unlikely, don’t you think, that a dwarf and an elf would ever fall in love?”
Simon had to agree, unlikely indeed. Jhamed was now in full flow. “My father, Gair son of Gale son of Gannon, was a dwarf and my mother, Kachina, was an elf. They were both unremarkable people, except that by chance they met and fell in love. They were both servants, on a mission with their superiors to Elannort. They were hurrying through the corridors, arms full, and ran into each other. Bits and pieces went flying. Quite a cliché. They were initially angry with each other, but they both saw the funny side of things and started laughing. One thing led to another and before you could say ‘Great Sage’ they had fallen madly in love. Their respective people were outraged, of course. There was even talk of war. The Great Sages intervened. They saw the possible union as a great advance for the Balance. They allowed my parents to stay in Elannort, where I was eventually born.”
“They told me that conception was very difficult. My father was very old by the time they had me and no further children were possible. They didn’t want to name me in either elfish or dwarfish fashion. The wizard Dammar suggested that I be called Jhamed al Suraqi, meaning Firstborn of the Balance in the ancient language of the Wise. Manfred always took a great interest in me. I was only a tiny baby when the Sundering took place. Manfred says that the fates must have intervened to ensure I was born before the Sundering. That meant there were many versions of me spread through the multiverse, unlike wizards who were returned to Melasurej and were not duplicated. You’ve already met one of them!”
“Exactly how old are you?” Simon interrupted.
“Well, you know that elves have very long life spans. Dwarves, on the other hand live only for about two hundred years. My father died when I was a child. I remember little about him, just a few memories of him bouncing me on his knee and me pulling on his long grey beard. And I remember his smell.” Jhamed paused for a moment and Simon thought he saw a tear in his eye. Jhamed didn’t know his father either.
“My mother lived a long life. She was already very old when I was born, but she lived for nearly another five thousand years. Thankfully, she died before the dark ages began. I grew and developed very slowly. Manfred says that I am a creature of the Balance and have inherited a lifespan that approaches or exceeds that of wizards. When my mother died, Manfred took me under his wing. I was really still a naïve youth at that stage. When he was exiled, I went with him and we spent many years wandering FirstWorld, doing what we could to preserve the Balance. Eventually, we returned to Wizards’ Keep. Nearly all of the wizards had passed to stone. The Keep was in disarray. We worked hard to re-establish it and Manfred began to study the ancient texts, which had previously been denied him. I discovered my talent for moving between the dimensions. I have been a wizard’s dogsbody ever since.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Very well, if you must know, on my last birthday, had I still been counting, I would have been thirty-one thousand two hundred and seventy-six years old. And you wonder why I could do with a rest?”
Simon was astounded. How could he live so long?
“And before you ask, yes I’m the only one of my kind. No, I have never married or had children, at least to the best of my knowledge! Manfred says that I’m unique and have a special role to play in the events to come. He usually says that when he wants me to do something particularly nasty or difficult for him. My role, other than dogsbody to wizards, as best as I can tell is to be a companion to the Everlasting Hero. I have spent many thousands of years chasing different versions of you through the multiverse. I have had this conversation with other versions of you countless times. Or another version of me has. Confusing isn’t it?”
Simon was indeed confused. “So there are multiple versions of you? Are they all the same? What about the Everlasting Hero?”
Jhamed sighed, like someone who had been asked this question many times before. “Whether the multiverse is infinite, I cannot say. Regardless, it’s very very large. Almost all probabilities seem to be possible. That means that there are potentially an infinite number of heroes and their companions. However, there is a fundamental difference between us. The Everlasting Hero is perhaps easier to understand. I don’t know why but somehow at just the right time in just the right place a hero emerges. Manfred says it’s genetic, whatever that means. I guess it somehow runs in families but can skip tens of generations, even more. There are minor heroes and major heroes and, I suppose, everywhere in between. They all look and behave differently. The Everlasting Hero is the pinnacle, the person you call on when all hope seems lost. You heard about Gilgamesh today. He was a manifestation of the Everlasting Hero, but as far as I can tell he’s not related to you. In the multiverse, there are many dimensions similar to your own. Each of them has or had a Simon Redhead similar to you. Manfred got it into his head that a Simon Redhead could be a manifestation of the Everlasting Hero and we could really do with one about now. It must be true because our enemies have been seeking you out as well. It’s not an easy job trawling the dimensions, even for someone as especially skilled as I am.”
Jhamed paused and looked at Simon. “Are you following this?”
Simon nodded and managed to stifle a yawn. “Keep going.”
“Well, even if all Simon Redheads are heroes of one description or another, only one can be the Everlasting Hero. We’ve been through most of them and here we are.” The gravity of Jhamed’s statement slowly registered in Simon’s sleepy brain.
“I’m different because I was around at the Sundering. For some reason that I don’t know and Manfred won’t speculate on, I’m special. Many Jhameds in many dimensions have lived out their lives and died without ever meeting a hero. Many have had families and their descendants look nothing like me; well not much and certainly not as handsome!” Jhamed laughed and Simon smiled at his friend's humour. “Some of my- their descendants may be companions too. Only I have the great lifespan that was spoken about today. In a few dimensions, close to FirstWorld, we found Jhameds who are relatively unchanged and very similar to me. They joined us in our quest. The last one of them was murdered by Dring in your dimension.” Simon wanted to ask about Dring but his eyelids seemed to have minds of their own.
Jhamed must have noticed Simon’s eyes beginning to glaze over again. This is going to do my head in! “I think we both need a rest now. Tomorrow will be another big day. We have made enormous progress today. We have finally found Gilgamesh’s heir. I know it’s hard to believe and understand, Simon, but you are the final incarnation of the Everlasting Hero. The future of the multiverse depends on you. I’m sorry it’s such a huge load to bear, but understand that I’ll be by your side to help as best I can. Manfred will be too. You are no longer alone. You have a new family now.”
These were the last words Simon heard before he drifted into a deep sleep. He dreamed of being part of a happy family; picnics on the beach, presents under the Christmas tree, hugs and cuddles from his father, and kisses from his mother. For a few hours, at least, he was safe and warm.
Next day, immediately after breakfast, they assembled again in the domed hall. The seating arrangements were different though. Today, they would all sit around the table as equals. The number of people present was smaller, Simon noted. There was no sign of Lord Velacourt, who had apparently stormed out after a late night meeting with Manfred. Nor was Zenethyr present. No one seemed to know where he had gone. Ceridwen, having given her warning, had returned to her people. She had left one of the twins, Taran, as her representative. A group of nine people sat down to determine the fate of the multiverse – Manfred the wizard, last representative of the Sages; Simon Redhead, final incarnation of the Everlasting Hero; Jhamed al Suraqi, Companion to Heroes; Gamying, Heir-Regent of Tamarlan; Rheanna, Custodian of the Great Library of Rhakotis; Taran, elven warrior; Dawit son of Dia son of Din, Prince of the Dwarves; Aglaral, Captain of the City States; and Kris the Bard, storyteller from Karo.
They sat around the outside of one quarter of the huge black table. A large letter W was inlaid into the table close to where Simon and Jhamed were sitting. Nonchalantly, Simon let his hand be drawn to and then caress the shape. The effect was immediate. As if receiving an electric shock, Simon sat bolt upright. Images flooded his mind. An old man, like Manfred but different. The eyes, look at the eyes, so red yet cold, like the eyes of an animal gleaming at night; a dog, no a wolf. A name, Weylyn.
The fine red hairs on Simon’s body stood to attention. His entire skin seemed to erupt in goose bumps. He shivered. In his mind a wolf howled, then words began to form. Who are you? Why do you disturb me? A hero is it? Another of Manfred’s fools’ errands. You will die soon Red Boy. Pity it won’t be me ripping out your throat and drinking your blood. Your fate will be far worse than that.
Simon screamed as a savage laugh exploded in his mind. Both Jhamed and Manfred saw what was happening and dragged his hand away from the carved letter. Simon sat back in his chair, breathing heavily, but otherwise unhurt.
“Curse our stupidity!” Manfred exclaimed. “Jhamed, how can you be a companion of heroes if you can’t even protect your charge in the safest place in the land? What did you see, Simon? What did you tell him? What did he say to you?”
Simon quietly told Manfred everything he had seen and heard. Jhamed looked on with concern, clearly upset by Manfred’s barb.
“We have learned something today,” Manfred said “There are schemes afoot that I had hardly dared contemplate. Whether the remaining wizards are aligned with Gadiel or pursuing some plan of their own, I wonder. Weylyn means 'son of the wolf'. He was ever a cunning fellow, as I recall, though very minor in the overall scheme of things. Zenethyr was close to him once; I wonder if he could shed some light on things? Where is he, the Balance take him? Unfortunately, we have alerted them, whoever they may be, that we have found the Hero. Perhaps they won’t take us seriously. We have been here a few times before. Simon, please take care. You clearly have exceptional talents that we are just learning about.”
Simon sat back in his chair, unnerved by the unexpected experience. I’m not safe, even here. Where can I go? I want to hide. Some hero, you are! The others present looked on with concern.
Manfred brought the meeting to order. “While the number is disappointingly small, it may be significant that nine people will today determine actions that will have significant impact on the fate of the multiverse. I fear that yesterday’s meeting was the last meeting of the Wise. I cannot feel Zenethyr’s life force today. I know not where he is. When there is no longer more than a single wizard present, I’m afraid we cannot have a meeting of the Wise. Nevertheless, we nine have been charged with doing what we can to save the Balance. Melasurej must not fall. It is our sacred duty to protect it to our final breath, if necessary. Let us determine a course of action.”
Manfred paused and looked around the table at the expectant faces. In some, he saw hope. In most, he saw fear. In Simon’s he saw a mixture of incredulity, excitement and fear.
“I have spent much time in recent millennia researching the ancient texts. In that time, I have travelled often to Rhakotis and conferred with the scholars there. I know that Rheanna, the current Custodian, has made it her life’s work to study these mystic words. Therefore, I cede the floor to Rheanna to tell us what she and the scholars have learned.”
Rheanna stood and bowed low to Manfred. She was dressed immaculately again. It looks like she’s going to a fancy concert or dinner party.
“I am honoured, my Sage, to present the work of the finest scholars in FirstWorld. The writings we have studied are but fragments of texts that date back to the brief time after the creation of the first and second born; before humankind, as we know ourselves, came into existence. They predate the Balance by several thousand years. They are predominantly elfish in nature, although a few dwarfish texts do exist and these have been used to try to corroborate the interpretations. They are the writings of the priests of Jeohab. We believe that these priests were the link between Jeohab and the rulers. Through them, Jeohab tried to force his laws on the elves. After the establishment of the Balance, the role of the priests diminished rapidly and they soon disappeared. The ancient texts were discarded. We have been lucky to find as many fragments as we have. We are grateful to the elves for providing them to us for study.” She bowed low again, this time towards Taran. The elf stood and responded in kind.
“We think that the texts describe Jeohab’s vision of the future,” Rheanna went on. “A vision that is likely to occur if his followers turn from his path. It is a vision of a future where Chaos is the victor. A vision of the future that is not set in tablets of stone, but one that his charges can escape from by doing as he prescribes. It seems that his charges ignored his pleas and his vision may be coming to pass. When Jeohab was giving this information to the priests, it may well be that he already had a prescience that the Great Old Ones would be leaving and that the Balance would be established. He talks of the Guardians, which we believe are the Sages. We believe that Jeohab foresaw the Sundering and the formation of the multiverse. He foresaw the collapse into Chaos and the faltering of the Balance. He foresaw a final battle between Law and Chaos. As the god of Law, we believe he was trying to give his followers one final chance to defeat Chaos, when all would seem to be lost.”
“It is our interpretation that we are now rapidly approaching that time. We must act according to what is written, if we are to avert total Chaos victory. The texts speak of a great talisman that was lost and must be found. We interpret that to be the Sword. ‘A great hero shall come forth, who will bear the mark of Gammon, and he shall claim his talisman. He will be as the flame and shall burn everything before him. Of neither Law nor Chaos will he be, nor shall he respect them.’ So it is written. The Hero will be of flame – we interpret that to mean red-haired. We cannot fathom who Gammon is or was, but we have determined that the mark is in the shape of a five-pointed star, a pentagram, and it is written that it will be in a place where few shall spy it. By your leave, my Lord Avatar, do you have any strange marks on your body?”
The question was clearly addressed to Simon. What does she mean, Avatar? I don’t have any strange marks. Well, only one. She can’t mean that, surely. Just the thought embarrassed him.
Before Simon could speak, Jhamed was on his feet, talking excitedly. “The Avatar has such a star shaped mark. It is the final proof, if the scabbard were not enough yesterday.” Jhamed sat. How the hell does he know that? Simon blushed.
Rheanna continued, obviously pleased by the response. “Excellent. The long hours poring over the texts have been worthwhile. The more I see and hear, the more confident I become that we are on the right track. Unfortunately, I can shed little light on the whereabouts of the Sword. I have only this fragment that may be relevant. ‘Far away, an evil queen shall rise, more powerful than the greatest elven queen. Around her, she shall gather all things powerful, protected by her spells. No mortal creature shall vanquish her. All shall fail, for she shall be the Druids’ Bane.’ It seems you must defeat this queen to find the Sword, before the Hero can take his place in the defence of Elannort and the free world.”
“How you do that, I can offer no ideas. However, something more perplexing seems to be at the heart of the prophecy. Our translation, as best we can understand is thus. ‘When the two who are one, Return to the sun. When the flame-haired child, Is first become. While the guardians sleep, Humankind will weep.’ We believe it is a reference to the Sundering because it is included immediately before a passage that seems to describe the multiverse. ‘Where there was one, there shall be many. Where there was order there shall be chaos. But they shall be as shadows of the first and if the first fall so shall they all.’ We know that many of the primitive human tribes worshipped the sun as a god. We think that the flame-haired child may refer to the Hero. We cannot explain the two who are one. The guardians refer to the Sages. That’s all I have, my Sage.” She bowed once more towards Manfred and sat down.
Manfred rose and stood deep in thought for a few moments. “I thank you, Rheanna, for your precise and I believe accurate assessment of the ancient texts. I understand how much hard work has gone into what seems such a brief report. I agree that we have two imperatives. The first is to find the Sword, which may be very difficult as we have few clues to follow. The second, on which I can report the results of my research, is for the Hero to return to the Sundering. It is my interpretation that the sun in the ancient text refers to the Sundering. However, I’m afraid that I too have been unable to fathom the meaning of the two who are one. I have spent much time thinking about the Sundering. Was it inevitable? Will we be the cause of it? Should we try to prevent it? Are we fated to take part in it, regardless of our choices? I have been plagued by these questions for what seems like an eternity. I was, you see, there at the Sundering.”
Manfred paused to let the shock of his revelation sink in. What is he talking about? Simon wondered, seemingly as surprised as everyone else.
“I didn’t realise it at the time, unfortunately. However, I have had over thirty thousand years to think about it. After the fall of Gilgamesh, the Council of the Wise decided it must act to prevent the recurrence of humankind creating false gods and the re-emergence of Gadiel. Five of the six remaining Great Sages: Adapa, Al’Alim, Bilal, Cadell, and Calum, undertook to find and destroy Gadiel. They all passed to stone without achieving their aim. The last Great Sage, Dammar, left Elannort on a personal quest and eventually passed to stone without further proven knowledge of his actions. The remaining wizards were sent out, mostly in pairs, to live secretly within the redeveloping communities of humankind. Our charge was to preserve the Balance with minimum interference.”
“My colleague Mandred and I were sent to a land far away to the north west, called Albion, where we became druids amongst a group of primitive hunter-gatherer humans. We rotted away there for thousands of years. I was bored out of my mind. Mandred was no fun either. He always seemed to be plotting and scheming against me, trying to make the tribe hate me. At the time, I thought he was just taking his patronage of Satania too far. On reflection, I see that it was much more. Foresight is a wonderful power to have. I have discovered that hindsight is even stronger. There is almost no action that can’t be judged to be flawed in the revealing light of hindsight.”
“I now believe he was working secretly for Dammar in some crazy scheme. Whatever it was, he believed that he had achieved his objective because before the Sundering he passed to stone. I cannot explain why I, Manfred the Fool, should have been so important in the history of the multiverse. Why was I, the least amongst the Wise, chosen to be there that day and to be the last of the Wise struggling with the burden today? It’s true. I have been a fool. The most critical events in the history of the multiverse were unfolding around me and I failed to act. Now I finally have a second chance. But should I take it? Will it do more harm than good?”
Manfred paused briefly in his monologue. He was sweating profusely and his normally pallid complexion was flushed. I’ve never seen Manfred like this. He’s losing it big time. Jhamed shuffled nervously in his seat beside Simon. He was obviously worried too. Manfred seemed to compose himself somewhat and continued, looking directly at Simon. “You see, Simon, we have met before. Over thirty thousand years ago.” He really has lost it.
“A few months before what I now believe to have been the Sundering, a strange, pale, red-haired boy appeared amongst the tribe. The tribe had never seen anyone with your size or colouring before. They were all small, dark, and hairy. You carried a sword, which I never saw unsheathed. You guarded it and your secrecy closely. How could I have been so foolish? Fleischaker was under my very nose and I never saw it. You participated in the events that led to the Sundering. I will say no more at this time, for I fear that I will contaminate the time stream if I speak more of the events that took place.”
“It is clear to me now that we have come full circle. It is from here and now that the events that precipitated the Sundering were caused. I have unlocked the time portal. Only one person, the Everlasting Hero, may use it. It is a paradox. How could the Sundering be caused by what we do now, for we would not act unless the Sundering had already occurred? It has given me many a headache I can assure you.”
“We can choose to act in a number of ways. We can refuse to do anything. Perhaps the Sundering will not take place. Perhaps we will all cease to exist. We can act to ensure that what took place really happened. Perhaps we will go around the circle again. We can act to try to prevent the Sundering. If we are successful, the multiverse may not come into existence. Billions of people who would otherwise have lived may never exist. Or the Sundering may come later, because of another cause. Perhaps the Sundering is inevitable, whatever we do. We can act to try to alter the impact of the Sundering in some way. Perhaps we can change the course of history that has led to us being here today.”
“I am open to all suggestions, for we must decide how to act. Until we decide, I will speak no more of things that occurred long ago, or perhaps, for one of us, will occur very soon. What I will say though, is that Simon clearly had the Sword with him. Therefore, we will find it. Does anyone have any ideas? Kris, perhaps you know a story that will guide us?” Manfred sighed as he sat down. The efforts of so many thousands of years were evident in his posture.
Everyone was still stunned by Manfred’s revelations. Simon observed the faces. Most were open mouthed. Kris muttered something about knowing nothing. Gamying was the first to get to his feet.
“There is a third imperative. Tamarlan must not fall. I say this not just for myself and my people, but also for the dwarves and ultimately the elves and Elannort being attacked from the north. Do you not think our present need is most urgent? We cannot and should not attempt to tamper with the past. Let the Sword be found and taken north.”
Aglaral was quickly on his feet too. “No! The imperative lies in the City States. The attack will come from the west. The Sword must be found and taken to Kartage, where we will soon face the Evil on behalf of all FirstWorld.”
The two warriors stood chin to chin. They look like two stags about to fight. Before anything further could happen, there was a banging on the doors and they opened to reveal a servant carrying a silver tray on which rested a scroll or manuscript of some kind. Manfred was quickly on his feet again. “I gave strict orders that we were not to be disturbed. What is the meaning of this?”
The servant stopped and bowed low. He seemed unperturbed by Manfred’s outburst. “Forgive me, my Sage, but something of extraordinary importance has occurred and I felt that you would need to hear of it immediately.” He waited for Manfred’s signal to proceed. “Today, there is a new statue in the Avenue of Heroes.” More surprises. Who can it be? Zenethyr? “It is my sad duty to report that the Sage Zenethyr has passed to stone. When we could not locate him this morning, we searched his quarters and found this letter. It is addressed to you, my Sage. It is sealed with the Stamp of the Wise.”
The servant moved forward to present Manfred with the tray. At his side, Simon heard Jhamed mutter something about it being very important as the seal was only used for critical documents and could only be opened by another wizard. Manfred took the document and broke the seal, which took the familiar, to Simon, form of a five-pointed star. He slowly opened the letter and began to read. The room was in total silence. The servant slipped out, backwards, and closed the doors. At length, Manfred looked up and addressed them.
“It appears that I am well named, for I have been a bigger fool than even Adapa realised. I wonder what Bedwyr saw in me. I shall read you the letter from Zenethyr in its entirety. Whatever he may have done or not done, he was one of the Wise and should be honoured as such today. He has taken his place in the Avenue of Heroes and, through his final actions, he has earned great honour. I ask you all to stand and observe one minute’s silence to respect his passing.”
They all stood and, in their respective ways, showed respect and honour to the Sage Zenethyr. Jhamed removed his hat and brushed back the cascade of curls from his face. The warriors in the group displayed their weapons while holding one hand over their hearts. Rheanna stood erect and still. Manfred held his staff in both hands in front of him and looked straight ahead. Kris stood with eyes closed and head bowed. Simon shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. How can I honour him? I wish I had known him. I wish I had a sword to hold. No! I wish I had my sword to hold.
The minute seemed to take forever. Eventually, they sat down, with the exception of Manfred who began to read the letter. “It appears that Zenethyr wrote this before he retired last evening. I trust that he slept well and passed peacefully. There remain but four spaces for wizards in the Avenue of Heroes. I observe that, other than myself, the only Sages who have not passed to stone are Weylyn the Wolf, Frisa the Curly-Haired, and Hroc the Crow. This is what Zenethyr wrote.”
‘My dear Manfred, it is true that we have never seen eye to eye. I have been among the loudest who called you Manfred the Fool. I regret that now. You were never the fool. After Bedwyr, you were always closest to understanding the