Sorak glanced toward where Ryana slept, peacefully, with Kara sitting by her side, watching over her. “No,” he said. “I would not be alone. I am not afraid.”
“And what of the tribe?” the Sage asked.
“We understand,” the Guardian replied. “We would miss Sorak, but at least a part of us shall always be a part of him. And I would like to see him heal, as I would like to join my father, whom I never truly knew.”
“Then, come to me,” the Sage said, holding out his hands. “Let Galdra be the bridge between us. Draw your sword.”
Sorak stood and drew Galdra from its scabbard.
“Hold it out straight, toward me,” the Sage said.
Sorak did as he was told.
The old wizard put his hands upon the blade, grasping it tightly. “Hold on firmly,” he said. Sorak tightened his grip with both hands on the hilt.
“And now?” he said.
“And now, there shall be an ending,” said the Sage. “And a new beginning.”
And with that, he impaled himself upon the blade. “No!” shouted Sorak.
But it was done, and as the blade sank into the flesh of the old wizard, Sorak felt a powerful, tingling sensation and a rush of heat, and then his head began to spin. Galdra’s blade glowed with a blue light, and Sorak felt the tribe begin to drain away from him. He screamed as he sensed something being ripped loose inside his mind, and an ethereal, amorphous shape seemed to pass along the blade, from him into the Sage. It happened once again, and then again, each time coming faster and faster as the luminescent spirits of the entities that were the tribe passed along the blade, from him and into the old wizard.
And then it was done, and both Sorak and the Sage collapsed, the contact broken as the blade pulled free of the old wizard.
Kara got up and came to crouch beside Sorak, feeling for his pulse. Satisfied, she sighed and checked the Sage, who lay there groaning and breathing laboriously, blood flowing freely from his wound. She took the Breastplate of Argentum, as he had directed her while Sorak took his inner journey, and she fastened it around him. And as she watched, the talisman glowed brightly, and then he disappeared from view.
She waited, tensely, as the moments passed like hours, and then he reappeared, slowly fading into view. The wound made by the enchanted blade had closed, and there was now no sign of blood. The Breastplate of Argentum had disappeared, as well. She opened his robe and saw that it had melded into him, becoming part of his flesh, its silver links of faintly glowing chain mail now become silvery feathers on his chest, like the breast of a bird.
And then the Sage opened his eyes. They were completely blue, no whites, no pupils, just radiant blue orbs that seemed to glow. A long and heavy sigh escaped his lips.
“We are all together now,” he said. And then he smiled, faintly. “It has begun.”
12
“So my quest is finished,” Sorak said as he awoke and saw Kara looking down at him.
“Life is a quest,” Kara replied. “A quest for answers and for meaning. And yours is far from over.”
“The only answer I have ever sought was who my parents were and what became of them,” said Sorak. “And the only meaning in my life that I have ever found was in my search for the Sage.”
“You have found the answer that you sought, and you have found the Sage, as well. That is more than most people could hope to do in their entire lifetimes. But that is still merely a beginning. There is more meaning in your life than you may realize. It is found in your dedication to the Way of the Druid and the Path of the Preserver. And you can also find meaning in the bond that exists between you and Ryana, which your search has only strengthened. You can find it in yourself, as well, as you explore the new meaning of who you are, and who you may yet become.”
Sorak moistened his lips. “They are gone now,” he said, thinking of the tribe. “It feels so strange. It feels ... lonely. Is this what it means to feel as others do, this loneliness?” He shook his head. “I never knew.”
He sighed. “They were afraid that if I found the Sage and asked his help, then he would somehow make them go away. And yet, throughout my quest, they helped me, despite knowing that it might mean their deaths.”
“Not their death, but their release, and yours,” said Kara. “And in that, you can find even more meaning.”
“So what happens now?”
The pyreen smiled. “Life happens. The Path of the Preserver is a long one, and often difficult, but the Way shall guide you. The sorcerer-kings grow stronger, and with each passing day, the planet is despoiled and the threat of dragons grows greater. All of us must face our dragons, in due time. But for now, let time stand still. The gateway is now closed. Those stairs now lead down not to Bodach, but to a garden where Ryana waits, to learn what you have discovered. She has pestered me with countless questions, wanting to know what had happened while she slept, but it is not for me to tell her. Go to her.”
Sorak swallowed hard and held his breath as he stared at the pyreen. “What of the Sage?”
“He rests now,” Kara said. “He shall rest for a long time. He has completed a difficult stage in the metamorphosis, and it shall take him much longer to recover than it has taken you. He will sleep for days, perhaps even weeks, and he must not be disturbed. He asked me to wish you well, and to say good-bye. For now.”
“I just hope they are happy now,” Sorak said, thinking of the tribe. “I miss them. I feel a curious ... emptiness.”
“Yes,” said Kara, “it is a feeling known by all, males and females alike. I am sure Ryana can tell you all about it. Go to her, Nomad. She has waited long enough.”
He descended the stone stairs, past tower rooms that looked completely new, not even remotely like the ruin with the rotted floors that he had seen when first he climbed the steps up to the top. When he reached the ground floor, he saw a heavy wooden door where before there had been only a crumbling stone archway. He opened it and stepped out into a lovely garden filled with fragrant flowers and green plants with large fronds waving gently in the summer breeze. There was grass beneath his feet, lush and thick, green grass such as he had never seen before, and the song of birds filled the air.
At the far end of the garden stood a stone wall over which he could see a rolling plain stretching out before him. And, from behind him, the wind blew an unfamiliar odor, sharp, bracing, and refreshing. As he turned around and gazed out past the tower, he realized it was the odor of the sea. Its blue-green vastness stretched out before him, not a sea of silt, but a sea of water, more water than he could ever have imagined. There was no sign at all of Bodach. They were in a time so ancient, the city had not yet even been built. There was just the tower, with nothing else around it. Nothing but the sea on one side, and a world that he had only imagined in his childhood dreams. A green world. A world untouched and unspoiled by defiler magic. It was so beautiful, it took his breath away. “It is lovely, is it not?” Ryana said. He turned and saw her standing a short distance away, holding a red flower in her hand. She held it out to him.
“It is called a rose,” she said. “I never imagined that anything could smell as sweet.”
She held it out to him, and he sniffed it, savoring its delicate perfume.
“It is wonderful,” he said. “I never imagined that it could be anything like this.”
“We cannot stay, you know,” Ryana said. “Kara says we must go back. We do not belong here, in this time.”
“I know,” said Sorak.
“If only we could stay,” she said wistfully. “When I see that this is how the world once was and think of what it has become, it makes me want to weep.”
“Perhaps, one day, we can come back,” he said. “And now that we know what the world can be, we shall know why we walk the Path of the Preserver. It shall have new meaning for us.”