“He began to long for the release of death, an end to the endless days. He returned to his homeland, to seek knowledge of this man who had cursed him.
“He discovered that myth now shrouded the truth and that the man now stood at the centre of religious debate. He was seen by some as a charlatan, by others as a messenger of the gods, by a few as a god himself, and by still others as a demon herald of damnation. That debate conspired to generate some strife within the empire. Religious wars are never pretty. But one story kept surfacing: that three magic artifacts associated with the dead man had the power to cure, to bring peace, and finally, remove curses. As I understand it, they were a wand, a cloak, and a cup. My father began at once seeking those artifacts.
“Centuries passed, and at last my father came to a tiny nation at the frontier of this empire, where it was supposed the last of the three artifacts could be found - the other two being counted lost beyond recovery. The empire was at last dissolving, as all such things do, and this land was a wild place. Upon reaching that nation, my father was beset by brigands, who wounded him severely, leaving him for dead. But of course my father simply lay in mute agony, waiting to heal.
“A woman found him. Her husband had died in a fishing mishap, leaving her without resources. My father was of an ancient race, steeped in culture and history, but my mother’s people, called the People of the Lizard, were barely more than savages. A widow was to be shunned, for any who gave to her assumed responsibility for her. So this woman of nearly nonexistent means nursed my father to health, then lay with him, for she was without a man of her own and my father was, by then, an obviously well learned man, and possibly an important one. The long and short of it was I was conceived.
“My father made his intent known to my mother, who professed no knowledge of the artifact my father sought, though it was a common enough legend even in that far land. I suspect she simply wished to keep her second husband close to home.
“So, for a time, my father stayed with my mother. In the canon of my father’s people, it is said that the child will inherit the sins of the father, but whatever the cause, it is from this legacy I sprang. My father remained long enough to teach me his language and his history, and the rudiments of reading and writing. A rumour made its way to our land, a hint of the lost artifact, and my father resumed his quest, heading westward across a vast ocean. I never saw him again. For all I know, he quests still. So my mother packed me up and returned to the village of her birth.
“My mother was left with a son and no reasonable explanation from where he sprang, as far as her people were concerned, so she concocted some nonsense about mating with a demon. Because of my father’s teachings, I was far more educated than the wisest elder among them, so my knowledge gave some credibility to these stories.
“In short, Mother gained significant influence in the community. She became a seer, though her abilities were more in the area of theatrics than divination. But I, well, I began seeing visions as a child.
“I left my mother when I was fourteen, wandering to where an ancient order of priests abided, in a land that seemed distant from my home at the time - a mere hop, step, and jump compared to the travelling I’ve done since. They trained me, vesting in me a dying lore. When I took my place within that brotherhood, I was transported in spirit.
“I was . . . taken somewhere, and some agency, perhaps the gods themselves, spoke to me. I was judged one among multitudes, a special vessel for rare powers. But there would be a price in taking that power for my own. I was given a choice. I might remain a simple mumbler of prayers, without much importance in the order of things, but I would have a safe and comfortable life, or I might truly learn magic arts. But it was clear there would be pain and danger along that path. I hesitated, but much as I wished for the peaceful existence of the monastic life, the lure of knowledge was too strong to resist. I chose the power, and the price was twofold. I was doomed, like my father, to live without hope of death, and was also given the gift - or curse - of foreknowledge. As I needed to know things, in order to act my part, that knowledge came to me. And from that day forward, I have lived my life in concert with that foreknowledge. I am destined to serve forces that work to bring sanity into the universes, and they are opposed by equally powerful agencies of destruction.”
Macros sat back. “In short, I am a man who inherited a curse and gained some gifts.”