The Steward and the Sorcerer James Peart (read my book .TXT) 📖

The Brightsphere, he thought.  Maybe it could help him determine the nature of this creature and the threat it posed.  It was worth an effort.  He made his way back to the corner of the keep where he had emerged inside it transformed.  The Sphere was nearly melted away, pooling in the cracks of stone on the plinth where he had stood and contemplated his surroundings for the first time as Druid.  Lifting his hands, he summoned fire from his fingertips.  This flame was green in colour, its magic capable of drawing back matter into the world of real things.  People too, if it were tasked to do so.

Never having employed it before, he was cautious in its use, drawing an aspect of the Sphere at a time. Slowly, it took shape, its lines of power extending from the walls and floor of the keep, converging to form a solid mass once more.  Sparks flew and hissed as the wellspring of its creation stirred to life, calling to him as it had earlier done in deep gravel tones, its voice unnatural, coming from another age.  It was not human but an elemental, a facsimile of human life with the addition of power beyond reckoning: power to change life, to enhance or destroy it.

“What would you have me do?”  It asked as it had done when he requested his transformation.  “You are Druid.  Is this not all you want?”

“There is a creature beyond the walls of Fein Mor,” Daaynan said.  It guards the castle, waiting for me to emerge.  I know nothing about it other than that it has a forbidding presence.  I wish to discover what manner of being it is, and its plan for me.”

The Brightsphere shifted, the life-force inside it stirring as it contemplated his question.  Minutes passed in silence.  Finally, it said “It is a Windwalker, an ancient creature whose kind were born long before I was brought into being.  They were creatures of terrible intelligence, and strong.  They did magic, though of a different kind to yours.  This one is different somehow.  I imagine it has had to be to survive in your world all this time.  It is a hybrid, a combination of Windwalker and a species not known to man.”

“And its intent?”

“Simple.  To confront and destroy.  They are gruesomely single minded and hold no regard for other races than their own.”

“But you said this one is a cross, a mixture of species.”

Silence for a moment, then “I haven’t seen one like this before.  Perhaps it is more Windwalker than not.”

Daaynan took all this in.  “How did it find out about me?”

“It was drawn to your magic.  Its own is peculiar in that it seeks out magic that others possess and confronts them.  Ultimately it destroys them.”

“Because it feels threatened?  Or wants to serve a need for self-gratification?”

“It does not feel threatened.  It is curious about you.  It wants to learn what you are first.”

“Am I a match for it?”

“Perhaps.  You are the first Druid of an order that carries but one member.  As such you have the repository of knowledge and power of all Druids who came before you right back to the first order and the beginning of recorded history in the Northern Earth.”

“Do you have any advice for me, anything you could add to what you have told me?”

“You are Druid.  You have all the advanced knowledge you require.”

Daaynan was about to ask another question when the Sphere began to collapse, retreating from view, the entity inside it directed elsewhere, its mind on matters in other worlds it inhabited, other dimensions of existence that lay beyond Daaynan’s reach.

He reviewed what the Brightsphere had told him, weighing matters over in his mind.  The elemental was confident he could stand against this creature, yet he was not so sure.  Its kind existed before the creation of the Sphere after all, so far back in time there were no historical recordings of them, no mention of their existence whatsoever.  What chance did he have against such a thing?  At the same time, he could not stay within the walls of the castle indefinitely, simply hoping that it would go away.  Sooner or later he would have to act.

Daaynan brooded on his problem for hours before arriving at a solution.  It was a makeshift plan but held the benefit of inflicting the least damage to his person and it afforded him the opportunity to discover more about this being.

He stepped outside the walls of the keep, choosing a spot directly beneath the North Tower and away from where the Windwalker stood.  Slowly, cautiously, he walked toward the creature, drawing fire- yellow this time- to his fingertips, ready to confront it should it wheel round and attack him without warning.  He didn’t think it would though, at least not yet.  The Sphere had told him it was curious about him, it would need to find out more about him before it decided on a more aggressive tack.

It stood motionless as he approached, in the same position it had always been.  He thought of saying something, calling to it, yet tempered the impulse.  He would wait for it to make the first move.  When it did he would be ready, or so he hoped.

When he came within ten feet of it, it turned around to face him.  It did so unhurriedly, almost casually, as if it knew he’d been there all this time.  Its hands- claws, he noted on closer inspection- lifted yet only to draw back its head-cloak, its eyes visible from the deep shadow of its hood, then its forehead and cheeks as the light hit its face, running down the length of it, its features exposed.

Daaynan stood face to face with himself.

He stared, disbelieving.  He was looking at a mirror image of his own face, the features, the nuance of expression identical to his own.  What was this, he wondered in consternation?

The being, whatever form of creature it was, chose