The shadowy form drew closer.
“I wanted to make it easy for you,” a voice whispered. “You would have died believing that it was your father you embraced.”
“And so this is the reward for winning,” Garth said quietly.
“You knew that from the beginning, didn’t you?”
Garth nodded.
The Walker chuckled softly.
“You interest me, Garth, or is it Galin?”
“Garth. The other died long ago.”
“It was too bad. I remember you well. You were eager, smart, able to use mana almost from the day you were born. You came of good blood.”
“My father and you were once friends. He saved your life once.”
The shadow nodded.
“Back when all was young,” Kuthuman whispered. “And that is why I wanted to give you the gift of a gentle death, at least a small token back to a friendship from another age.”
Kuthuman sighed, and in his voice was an infinite weariness.
“But unfortunately you were too strong-you saw through the mirage.”
Garth said nothing, still so shocked by the power of the mirage that he found it difficult to control the tears. Nor would he admit that for a moment he had been taken in entirely.
“You kill all who win the Festival, don’t you.”
“Are you hoping for an exemption?”
“No. I know better than that. Besides, there is too much between us.”
The shadow sighed and to Garth’s surprise actually sat down.
“Let us not finish this yet. Sit down, you must be weary.”
Garth hesitated.
“No tricks this time. Now that you know, I owe you that as well, as the son of a friend. Besides, it would be a passing pleasure to talk as I once did, without pretenses, without groveling fear. When the end comes for you I will grant you release as a man, standing with weapon in hand as is your right.”
Garth sat down on the chilled ground.
The shadow sighed.
“I always kill the winner of Festival.”
“You don’t want any future competition.”
“Of course not. You think the poor fools who so eagerly compete would have figured that out by now. As in your world, in the world that was once my sole realm, the mana is scarce. It is drawn slowly out of the lands, created by the life force of every creature who lives, and then tamed and controlled by those few born with the power to see it, to concentrate its power and use it. It took much of that mana for me to break down the barriers between worlds and to walk as a demigod between them. It takes the tribute of many such worlds for my power to be sustained and to grow.
“Now, do you think I would share such power with others? The power to walk between worlds, to be a Walker, rests upon that. If I allowed others to gain that power, they would be a threat as they grew.”
“So you strangle them in the cradle. You let us choose who might be the next threat and then you take them and kill them.”
The shadow nodded.
“Unfortunate, isn’t it,” he whispered as if troubled by the dark necessity of reality. “If I did not, there might be a day when someone could gather enough mana unto themselves so that they too could pierce the veil of worlds and walk as I now do. And if they did, then what would there be, yet another to struggle against in a universe of struggle.”
“You know that Zarel even now hoards the mana, your mana, so that he might pierce the veil.”
“Carrying tales, are we?”
Garth smiled.
“It serves a purpose.”
“To turn me against my servant?”
“Perhaps.”
The shadow laughed.
“He is ambitious; I knew that from the beginning. So ambitious that he would help me kill your father, not out of any loyalty to me but simply to get me out of the way so that he could then prepare for the final step as well. You tell me nothing that I don’t already suspect.”
“And?”
The shadow paused and seemed to diminish in form. Garth watched him intently, feeling the power drain away from Kuthuman until he almost disappeared. Long minutes passed, neither of the two moving, and then the strength returned.
“A struggle elsewhere?”
The shadow nodded.
“So it is the same out here, then?” Garth asked quietly, an almost-sympathetic tone in his voice.
“The same. I thought, somehow, when I crossed through the barrier that I was free.”
Garth felt as if he could almost see a wistful smile on the shadow’s face.
“Ah, those first moments. They were a delight beyond imagining. It was a childlike joy for all was new, fresh, innocent to my eyes as if it were the first day of creation. I soared like an eagle, piercing through the veil of tears, of time, of eternity. Death would never now touch me, I believed. I would be eternally young, striding the corridor of time, and control all that I surveyed.”
He paused for a moment.
“And then I met the others.”
“Who were Walkers like you.”
The shadow nodded.
“You should have assumed that,” Garth said. “Our own legends spoke of the younger days when there were demigods who struggled for control of our world and how they disappeared and we were alone. You should have assumed that you would meet such.”
“I was intoxicated with the power. I thought the legends were just that, mere legends. Or at worst there were others who had slain each other and the universe was now empty except for the power of the Eternal.”
“You discovered differently.”
“It is a universe of strife. Even now as I sit and talk with you I struggle to hold what little I have. Even now I walk in other realms, fighting, using mana, taking mana in conquest and losing it as well. It is an infinite struggle for power and I am but one of many. There are powers beyond mine that are terrible to behold, those who would drain me of my strength as if they were drawing blood out of my veins. And if they triumph over me, I shall be a dried husk, blown on the winds of eternity, doomed never to live and doomed as well never to die.”
“And you have done such in turn.”
The shadow chuckled, its voice cold as night.
“Ah, how I have driven my enemies before me and laughed to hear their lamentations. I have broken into their worlds, taking unto myself what is rightfully mine. That which I cannot hold I have laid waste to so that it is useless to them and the mana is drawn out of their lands and into my hands. I control much now, numbers beyond imagining.”
“But it will never be enough. There will never be rest, will there?”
The shadow stirred.
“You are, perhaps, too wise, Garth. For once here there is no choice. It is either to grow or to be driven into the void, stripped of all powers with all eternity before you or until the Eternal stirs and draws the circle closed. So there is no choice, no choosing. The struggle goes on without rest.”
“You are, even now, strained almost beyond your ability to hold what you have.”
“How do you know that?”
“If it was not so, you would have stayed longer after the Festival. You would have lain with women, drunk deeply of wine, and amused yourself with the adoration of the mob. Yet you came to take your tribute of strength, and tarried but for a moment before fleeing back here”-and Garth waved his hand toward the timeless dark plains-“this dead world of darkness.”
The shadow nodded.
“Why here? This is hell itself. I would have thought you leaping through the infinite or tarrying in palaces of gold in worlds of unsurpassing delight. Why this nightmare world?”