Ashen-Shugar said, “Now you are a free people.”
The elves, those who had lived most removed from their masters, said, “We shall go, then, to a place where we may live at peace.” They moved to the west, seeking a place where they could live in harmony.
Others said, “We shall be wary of these new beings, for we are those who have the right to inherit the mantles of power.”
Ashen-Shugar turned and said, “Pitiful creatures, have you not observed how power means nothing? Find another path.” But the moredhel were already leaving, his words unheard, as they began to dream the dreams of power. They had set foot upon the Dark Path even as they began to follow their brothers to the west. In time their brothers would drive them off, but for now they were as one.
Others moved silently away, ready to destroy any who opposed them, not content to seek out their master’s power, certain of their own ability to take by force of arms whatever they wished. Those elves had been twisted by the forces let loose during the Chaos Wars and were already drawing away from their brethren. They would be called the glamredhel, the mad elves, and as they set out for the north, they turned suspicious eyes upon those moving westward. They would hie themselves away, using science and sorcery plundered from alien worlds to build giant cities in imitation of their masters, to protect themselves from their kindred, while plotting to make war upon them.
Disgusted by their behaviour, Ashen-Shugar returned to his hall, to reside until that time when he was to leave this life, preparing the way for the other. The universe was changed, and within his hall Ashen-Shugar felt himSelf alien to the newly-forged order. As if reality itself rejected his nature, he fell into torpor, a coma-like sleep, where his being grew and diffused and began to suffuse his armour, the power being passed into artifacts, to await another who would come to wear his mantle.
At the last he stirred and said, “Have I erred?”
Now you know doubt.
“This strange quietness within, what is it?”
It is death approaching.
Closing his eyes, the last Valheru said, “I thought as much. So few of my kind lived beyond battle. It was a rare thing. I am the last. Still, I would like to fly Shuruga once more.”
He is gone. Dead ages past.
Ashen-Shugar struggled with vague memories. Weakly he said, “But I flew him this morning.”
It was a dream. As is this.
“Am I then also mad?” The thought of what was seen in Draken-Korin’s eyes haunted Ashen-Shugar.
You are but a memory, said the other. This is but a dream.
“Then I will do what is planned. I accept the inevitable. Another will come to take my place.”
So it has happened already, for I am the one who came, and I have taken up your sword and put upon your mantle; your cause is now mine. I stand against those who would plunder this world,said the other.
The one called Tomas.
Tomas opened his eyes and then closed them again. He shook his head, as if clearing it. To Pug he had been silent for only a moment, but the magician suspected that many things had passed through Tomas’s mind. At last Tomas said, “I have the memories now. Now I understand what is occurring.”
Macros nodded. He said to Pug, “In all my dealings with the Ashen-Shugar-Tomas paradox, that most difficult of all was how much knowledge to permit Tomas. Now he is ready to deal with the greatest challenge of his existence, and now he must know the truth. And you as well, though I suspect you have already deduced what he has learned.”
Softly Pug replied, “At first I was misled by the enemy’s use of ancient Tsurani when it spoke in Rogen’s vision. But now I realize that was simply because that was the language of humans it knew at the time of the Escape across the golden bridge. Once I discarded the idea that the Enemy was somehow linked to the Tsurani, when I considered the presence of the eldar upon Kelewan, then I understood. I know what we face, and why the truth was hidden from Tomas. It is the worst possible nightmare come to life.”
Macros looked to Tomas. Tomas looked long at Pug, and there was pain in his eyes. Quietly, he said, “When I first remembered the time of Ashen-Shugar I thought I . . . I thought my heritage had been left against the Tsurani invasion. But that was only a small part of it.”
“Yes,” said Macros. “There is more. You now know how a dragon thought extinct for generations - an ancient black - could guard me.”
Tomas’s expression was openly one of doubt and worry. With an almost resigned note, he added, “And I now know the purpose of Murmandamus’s masters.” He waved his hand around them. “The trap was less to prevent Macros from reaching Midkemia than it was to bring us here, keeping us away from the Kingdom.”