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  ~~~

  Benhloriel just reached the other side of the river, when a small group of Shadowfolk, his mother among them, emerged from the nearest trees and converged purposefully on the river. The boy heard calls and waved. Hands pulled him on to dry ground.

  "What were you doing, child?" asked one of the men.

  "An old, old man lost his staff. He called, so I crossed the river to help him," he explained, unaware of eyes fixed to his face.

  "Did you now?" asked another Shadowlander. "That was kind of you." He stepped forward, tilted the boy's head and stared long into innocent eyes. What he read there made him most pensive. "Get the child warm," he snapped. "We have to move." A firm hand on Benhloriel's shoulder propelled him forward.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The so-called Unseen Ones had been gone for many cycles from Ambros. In their perambulations about the universes, they'd often meet one another to argue, laugh, and then, without further thought, they'd part and go their separate ways. One or other of them would stay in contact with their chosen species, the Rox. The Rox lived on a plane far beyond Ambros and Yarilo; their world was called Lilium. The mages resided on Yarilo, a plane quite some distance from Ambros. The Rox communicated with the mages on Yarilo, only through teleth. It was very rare these days for a Yarilan mage to sight a Rox; rarer still for any dragon to set eyes on a Rox.

  Once, a long time ago, all species had lived together on Ambros, but no one remembered much about it. There had been interspecies matings too, until the Unseen Ones declared this had to stop. It hadn't occurred since early in the Second Age: no one, other than perhaps the oldest dragons, knew why.

  The Rox disappeared entirely from Ambros to settle on Lilium. They were barely recalled, even in legend. Common folk knew nothing of them, though scholars would recall them from ancient scripts. Where the Unseen Ones settled the Rox, they were protected and flourished - it was from there they were made responsible to the Unseen Ones for the continuing balance of Ambros. They were to oversee the satisfactory development of its inhabitants. The way they did was through the mages on another world that circled Ambros, called Yarilo. The Rox did this willingly, out of gratitude. They were the Guardians of Ambros.

  ~~~

  The only ones who knew of the guardian Rox were the Yarilan mages who answered directly to Lilium. On Yarilo, the mages actively maintained the balance of Ambros. Each venerable mage was blessed with an ice dragon who bonded with that individual for the duration of a mage's life. Only a master could attain such a gift.

  Mages were chosen for particular skills and talents; that was the responsibility of the Rox, though sometimes it happened a mage was found and brought to Yarilo without the prior knowledge of the Rox. Though this was rarely done, it had been known to happen. It did with the mage Bene. It was the Unseen Ones, however, who had the final decision of a mage's acceptability - both Lilium and Yarilo knew this.

  ~~~

  Once, too, the dragons were seen all over Ambros, but now they lived in the far north of Ambros, on a huge and inhospitable island that few even knew existed. Those who might have known wouldn't have been so foolish as to attempt to find it. It was only known to Ambrosians, through legend, as Ice Isle. Dragons had been unseen now for hundreds of Ambrosian cycles; they were recalled only in mythology. Some of their number were ancient, with memories that stretched back far beyond any chronicles that were kept on Ambros, but these memories they kept to themselves. All dragons were ruled by the Unseen Ones, whether the mages willed it so or not.

  ~~~

  The Unseen Ones were a disparate, indestructible group, quite amoral in many respects. Some could see only the amusing side of being, living their existences to the full, while others were sober and took existence less frivolously. As beings, they were changeable and unpredictable: there would be relative harmony among them, then as suddenly there'd be bitter discord. They could be companionable or solitary: maliciously fiendish or amiably charming: compassionate or pitiless. They were most often subject to whims.

  So it was almost an oddity they finally managed to agree on a balance for Ambros. Perhaps it was because each Unseen One had a distinct sympathy and affection for one or other of the species who originally populated Ambros, this mutual affinity drawing them together this once.

  ~~~

  Huma, with Sympho, were the ones who specifically chose the Rox so long ago. Marl selected dragons. Benth established the mages on Yarilo. Minac favoured the Reader-Seekers of the Conclave. Abus lived among the ghost ones of the Shadowlands in northern Ambros. Misa wandered happily with the Sinhalien plainsmen; her twin, Crue, knew life with the Wildwind desert tribes.

  Lais liked the little people, or the Gnosti as they became known. Obli thoroughly enjoyed liaisons with nymphs and dryads over an extended period. Other Unseen Ones had come and gone on Ambros, taking whatever form suited them at the time, none of them strangers to Ambros.

  Obli was the one most at ease and interested in Ambros. He was teased about nymphs, the raillery half-mocking, half-amused.

  "You and your Ambrosians," was the comment. "We believe you would wander that world indefinitely." Obli gave the ghost of a laugh.

  "They intrigue me," he admitted. "It's an interesting and unusual world I wander."

  Then, after the others, there was a rippling in the air, before he too was gone. That was a long time ago.

  ~~~

  The Unseen Ones established the maintenance of a balance for Ambros because they'd once caused mischief of a serious kind and agreed it must never happen again. In times gone by, if an Unseen One took action that was seen by another to be partial, or detrimental to his or her chosen species, then reciprocity became a vicious game.

  Ambros became a helpless victim, tossed to and fro in a tug of war. The Unseen Ones barely stopped in time. It followed the activities of one of their own and also saw the end of the First Age, the species separated in an effort to recreate a balance.

  To ensure this, all the Unseen Ones agreed not to interfere, unless they saw a genuine threat, direct or otherwise, to their chosen species. This only happened once. It was caused by Huma and Sympho's son, Dire. Dire was proud and arrogant: to him humility was as alien as it was to other Unseen Ones. He was conceited and often needlessly hostile, isolating himself deliberately from the Unseen Ones for very long periods of time.

  On Ambros, he settled in a deserted valley surrounded by fertile plains, where he built a fortress to amuse himself. He called it Lachir Keep. As he was ungracious and took umbrage easily, the Unseen Ones would have left him there indefinitely had he not been so ready to interfere with the inhabitants of Ambros. His final act was to take a fancy to one of Benth's mages, a young woman from the Shadowlands. Removing her from Yarilo to the Keep he mated with her and, from there through her, he began to interfere with the mages on Yarilo. He was affronted and embittered by the criticism he received.

  When he and Onscre had a son, Dire made it clear he wished his son to accompany him, on and off Ambros, wherever he wished to go. He also stated his intention of mostly remaining on Ambros and continued to interfere with the mages. Huma and Sympho refused to let Dire stay on Ambros to make further havoc. Nor could he take his son to any other plane. When Dire set out to challenge his parents he was taken, and, a prisoner, removed from Ambros.

  Soon after Dire's removal, his mate sickened. She appealed to Yarilo to take her son and train him as befitted his parentage, but it was only when the boy was three Ambros cycles and Onscre died, that the boy was finally taken to Yarilo. There he grew up under the tutelage of Benth's most outstanding mages. The boy's name was Malekim.

  ~~~

  Before he was an adult, Malekim began to show all his father's less desirable traits; in the boy they were exaggerated. He was petulant and chaffed at discipline: he could be odious and spiteful and derived pleasure from hurting others. He had an antipathy to his tutors, all but one. Elucien, who taught the boy of the occult, found Malekim a disturbingly apt an
d fascinated student.

  The boy loathed his fellow students. He showed, in everything he did, that he despised them, nor did he care to understand or respect the balances of sorcery; they meant nothing to him. What Malekim came to seek was the control and manipulation of all living things. He wished most to be worshipped. He wanted to be ageless and sought his father's immortality as a prize beyond everything else, his paternity what spurred him to be a greater mage than any other.

  On Yarilo, none of the mages knew where Dire went. The Unseen Ones never intended they should know. The Rox were kept in ignorance as well. Like all mages, Malekim was aware of the existence of the Rox and accepted their very few calls to him in teleth, but, unlike all the other mages on Yarilo, he was never able to learn to teleth reciprocally. This also embittered him.

  Because this lack annoyed him so intensely, Malekim was determined to learn to do something more successfully than anybody else. His early attraction to the dark arts began, increasingly, to be an obsession. What alarmed the masters was Malekim's talent for it; the mages hoped his fascination would wane in time.

  By the time Malekim was a young man, he was reluctantly seen as destructive and obstructive. He began to manipulate the minds of those on Ambros. Yarilo saw this as malevolent. To this young mage it was all an experiment, even a game. Malekim enjoyed inflicting pain. As cycles passed, he became increasingly ferocious, even, unknown to his fellow mages, beginning to tamper with the essences of those on Ambros with whom he experimented. One who watched him, was a master mage called Benhloriel.

  ~~~

  By now Malekim was mature and as powerful a mage as any other. He abandoned Yarilo to take up residence in the deep south of Ambros, as his father once did. It was there he found a highly cultured and civilised people, unique and advanced, who flourished around the rich lands adjacent to the Keep.

  They were called Druans. These people were intelligent and deeply gifted, many among them seers and, almost universally, they had musical talents. They had scholars among them who recorded their music and writings and although they were warriors, they weren't cruel, nor did they impose their rule on others. Their bards, scholars and seers were revered. They yearned for, and dedicated their lives to, the quest for knowledge.

  Malekim studied the Druans for cycles. Then, without warning or compunction, he set out to destroy them. He did it so thoroughly that few of the Druans escaped into the deep south. There, they were absorbed into lesser developed tribes. At first their talents were appreciated, but, as cycles went by, these talents were seen as threatening, so any born showing signs of them were slaughtered out of hand. Later still, some of the tribes did struggle to try to preserve the skills of the bards and the seers, but much was lost.

  Malekim saved both the chief bard and chief scholar of the Druan people. Until they died, they were locked in chambers in the Keep, where they were forced to copy their knowledge onto parchment. Once drained, they were disposed of. By then the Keep was a huge repository of knowledge that the mage intended should never benefit Ambrosians. If the Rox and Yarilo wanted to help Ambrosians, Malekim would do all he could to hinder them. He watched the subsequent descent into savagery among southerners with enormous amusement and satisfaction.

  ~~~

  He now, laughingly, turned his attention to the inhabitants of northern Ambros. He encouraged hostility and eventually war. The Rox watched the increasing appeal to arms with mounting concern. Their anxiety deepened when the northmen, finished fighting with each other, turned to look covetously at the south. The uneasy truce in the north firmed. The north went to war against the south. The resulting conflict was bloody and Malekim enjoyed his participation in it very much.

  His fellow mages, conscious of the tilt in the balance of Ambros, decided to act. The battle between the mages was gargantuan. It saw the end of the Second Age on Ambros. Nor was it a clear-cut struggle. Mages split over whom to support. Some mages contended that Malekim only mischievously fomented a wish for war that already existed in the Ambrosian mind: others argued that he'd deliberately instigated aggression. Chief among these was a master mage called Benhloriel. This schism among the mages placed the balance of Yarilo in jeopardy - the balance on Ambros was now seriously overset.

  The Rox were forced to intervene. Huma and Sympho became involved. Benth already was. Because the Shadowlanders became targets of the southeners, Abus took umbrage and encouraged his people to fight back. Lais, too, entered the fray, in support of the Gnosti whom Malekim drew in out of sheer spite.

  Malekim demanded Dire be allowed back to Ambros. When told this wouldn't happen, in unspeakable fury the young mage threw down a challenge to Huma and Sympho from his southern fortress. It was unheard of for a mage to do such a thing.

  Called on by the Rox, the dragons swept down on Ambros as the mages battled. The Rox, supported by the Unseen Ones, challenged the supporters of Malekim among the mages.

  ~~~

  It was a horrendous battle that left over half the Yarilan mages dead. Many dragons were either broken or died. Many Rox perished. Other species on Ambros were decimated. Malekim was brought before the Unseen Ones and judged by all as culpable. About to pronounce judgement, they heard the call for clemency from Yarilo.

  "You plead with eloquence, Benhloriel. Do you represent the surviving mages of Yarilo?"

  Benhloriel stood alone in the grove. His teleth was powerful and clear. "I wouldn't presume to come solely on my own behalf." His long auburn curls blew in the wind. The violet eyes were sombre.

  "You ask us to spare Malekim the unmaking. Be careful what you wish for, mage. The outcome may not be what you hope or expect. If we grant clemency, you may live to regret it, all of you. However, like you, we can hope Malekim learns from what follows."

  There was a very long silence, so long Benhloriel wondered if he was alone. Then the voice he knew was Benth's, as cold as ice, entered his mind and spoke curtly.

  "Your wish is granted."

  Benhloriel left the grove.

  ~~~

  Malekim was exiled to Ambros. For his punishment he was sentenced to a long period of endurance, with all the pain and suffering he'd caused others channeled back into him with remorseless force, cycle after cycle. It was impossible for him to be untouched by the raw power of emotion that coursed through him day after day.

  To cope with this ungovernable flood of anguish, Malekim forced himself to become partly insensible; a tiny part of his essence withdrew and made itself impassable and passionless. As the rest of his being fought the pathos of thousands, and lost, this minute part of Malekim's essence held, barely aloof. As his mind and body finally broke under the assault, that small part of his being struggled to survive.

  What motivated its survival, was total alienation and hatred. An implacable loathing of all the Unseen Ones stood for swept over that faint, flickering essence that was Malekim. A desire to destroy, once and for all, the balance they held so dear for Ambros was what sustained and nourished him.

  He was left where he was, in the centre of Ambros. Though Yarilo couldn't know this, it was a mistake that would eventually cost them dearly. It took Malekim a very long time to show any signs of recovery, and when he did, he disappeared so completely and for so long, the Guardians, though vigilant, weren't disturbed. They merely hoped the mage had learned from his chastisement.

  Yarilan Chronicles 2462, Half Crescent Astral Yarilo Cycle 2201, Second Age.

  It is the beginning of the Third Age.

 

  I'm no Chronicler. I write of what was seen. It was a triumph to defeat the mage Malekim. It came at enormous cost; many of our mages are lost; some of our most ancient and revered perished; we're weak.

 

  Although we celebrate, we do so under a shadow of loss and sadness. Among our friends, losses are heavy. Many of our dragonkind died. We need spiritual healing and retreat into isolation to sustain ourselves. We have need of solitude.

 

  I write be
cause our Chronicler is among the dead. A new Chronicler will, in time, be appointed. He'll doubtless write after me.

 

  If these words suggest a heavy heart, it's nearly always so. Where there's rejoicing, there's always sadness. Where there's gain, there's inevitably loss. Where also there's sorrow, there must be learning and acceptance.

 

  The Rox understand this. So must we.

 

  Let others come and follow this.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It was the end of the Second Age. A small group stood overlooking rolling downs in fading sun that cast long shadows in an early Ambros spring. Though trees were in full leaf and the ground, until only a short time since, was covered with perfumed blue ornets, black-eyed cass, and the scarlet heads of the tall cowl flowers, those standing simply stared bleakly at the landscape. Not long since, the land was raw from the recent rage of gargantuan and bitter battle. Comrades fell and loved ones were lost. There was an uneasy and brooding peace that touched those who'd fought so hard.

  "It's finally over." A slender woman stood staring thoughtfully at her companions.

  "It is." The speaker had long auburn hair that caught the light. "Let's hope this time we've achieved peace. The Watchers are grateful to you and yours, Cynthas."

  "That Malekim's caught is enough," shivered the woman. She turned to a second man. "Without your help, Disah, capturing the mage would've been impossible."

  "Perhaps," came the stolid response from the short man who stroked his beard contemplatively. "We hope a new age dawns for Ambros." He turned to the first man who'd spoken. "In so many ways we're indebted to you Shadowlanders, Syberiel, and to those of the steppes the Hasuran sent. Isn't that so, Sophos Rox?"

  A third man turned to face the short man. His dark eyes shone with an odd light as he replied in a deep, placid voice, "That's so, Gnosti, that's so." He paused then went on, "There's no need for the Rox to stay here. You understand that, mage?"

  The fourth man nodded. His unusually coloured violet eyes strayed to the woman, then he blinked and looked quickly away.