Ways of Power 1: Power Rises (5 page)

8

As he approached the private dining room Rancoth could hear hushed voices in deep conversation within. He decided to pause, and try to make out what he could before entering.

"…you're his father, and it was your home."

"I know, but what if he refuses? What if he doesn't even come back here tonight? You know he hates me, and rightly so. I can't do it alone--I can't go back in there."

"Rancoth has grown into a kind-hearted, respectable young man. You would be proud of him, Adroman. He's a bit arrogant at times, but weren't we all at that age? Trust me, when he knows what is at stake, he will do it."

"Do what?" Rancoth asked, Grecrum’s praise finally giving him the nerve to walk through the door. At that moment he knew no matter what happened, or what was said this evening, Grecrum was proud of him.

He paused and looked at the two of them; faces twisted with surprise and a hint of embarrassment. Other than the shared expression on their faces the men were strikingly different in appearance, and the years had been kind to only one of them.

Both were tall and bald. But where Grecrum's light complexion was soft and round with a friendly clean-shaven face, Adroman's dark face was creased with lines, and his once muscular physique was now rail thin. His features were sharp and gaunt, with a thin gray-streaked mustache and goatee. Grecrum's glowing blue eyes radiated with wisdom and confidence, while Adroman's dimly lit yellow ones betrayed his emptiness and sorrow.

In that moment Rancoth's heart was no longer filled with anger and loathing for the man he once called Father. Instead, it was replaced by pity for the broken shell that sat before him. Rancoth was not entirely sure which was worse, but he thought at least he would be able to make it through the evening.

Grecrum was first to breach the awkward silence. "Rancoth, please. Come in, sit down. How long were you out there?"

Rancoth approached and sat opposite them, unconsciously using the table as a barrier. "Long enough to know that I'm not going to like the direction of this conversation."

Adroman started to speak, hesitated, and then started again. "It's good to see you, son--"

Rancoth's head snapped towards Adroman, and he couldn’t help a look of loathing from flashing across his face. Okay, maybe it hasn't been completely replaced by pity
,
Rancoth thought. He tried to calm his expression and tone of voice before responding, "Please, call me Rancoth."

Adroman managed a nervous smile, "You're right. I'm sorry. I haven't earned the right to call you that. Please understand, I love you and-"

Rancoth jumped to his feet, flinging his chair to the floor a few feet behind him. "LOVE ME!?!" He shouted, as he fought to keep from crying. "You don't abandon your loved ones when they need you the most! You don't drop your child on the doorstep of a complete stranger, and then come back years later and pretend that everything is all right! I’m here tonight for one reason and one reason only: Because the man who had the kindness and courage to raise me asked me to come.

"Now you tell me what you want, and do it without the platitudes of a long dead affection. Or I'll leave whether Grecrum wants me to or not!" By this time Rancoth was leaning towards both men, his fists planted firmly in the center of the table.

Adroman closed his gaping mouth, and with swimming eyes, looked to the floor in shame. "I didn't abandon you," he said so softly Rancoth barely heard him.

"What?" came Rancoth's impatient reply, while Grecrum continued to sit quietly, content to allow father and son to bare their souls to one another.

Adroman looked up, and with renewed vigor repeated, "I said, I didn't abandon you."

"Then what would you call it? Because that's sure as hell what it felt like to me."

Adroman took a couple of deep breaths before answering. "I knew that you deserved better than I was capable of giving you. I knew that if I stayed, no matter how much I loved you, I would have made you miserable and you would never have been able to move past what happened. Because I've never been able to move past it
.
You deserved to be somewhere and with someone who could invest their energy in something other than grief. Look at me. Take a close look." Adroman then stood with arms outstretched and slowly turned around.

"I am nothing. Nothing! Can't you understand that? This, son, is what you too would look like, had I not done what was best for you. I didn't want to go. You were all that I had left. I loved you. I still love you." The desperate look on Adroman's face was almost more than Rancoth could bear.

As he began to choke on his own tears, Rancoth asked, "So am I supposed to thank you? Am I supposed to fall into your arms and tell you how much I love you, how much I've missed you? Well I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

Adroman shook his head, and slumped back into his chair. "No, son, I don't want your gratitude, or even your love if you're unwilling to give it. I just needed you to hear it. I needed you to know. I hoped you would be able to understand--that's all." The room was silent then for some time, both Rancoth and Adroman lost in their own thoughts.

Once again it was Grecrum who broke the silence. "Time. It can be an unyielding enemy, or the ultimate ally. Through it wounds grow deep and fester with rot. Yet if we are patient, time eventually heals all things."

Rancoth nodded and looked up. "Well, now that we've both had the opportunity to get some things off of our chests, what were you two conspiring about when I walked in?"

Adroman and Grecrum looked thoughtfully at one another, and Grecrum took the lead. "As you know, I had a meeting this morning with Dal'Asaid, the new tribal leader of our friends to the south. He would like us to return to him a necklace that was loaned to us by his predecessor. He states that it belongs to the Elfkin people, and is rightfully worn only by the chief's daughter. According to their shamans, it contains great power, and has been with their people for thousands of years. As such, he would like it returned."

"Go on," Rancoth said, curious to know what this had to do with him. He didn't own any necklaces at all.

It was Adroman's turn now. "I wasn't aware of all of this until arriving just a few minutes before you did. The person that the former Elfkin Chieftess loaned the necklace to was your mother. She was fascinated by their Gaian magic and wanted to study it. As you may or may not know, your mother and I hired a deflector to place an enchantment on our home so that only a member of our family could enter, and once inside could allow someone else admittance."

Rancoth wasn't sure where this was going, but he could speculate, and he wasn't at all sure he liked it. His heart pounding in his chest was starting to make him light headed. "Please continue." His voice cracked.

"Once again, son, I must ask too much of you. Grecrum asked me when I arrived if I could retrieve the artifact for him, but I cannot. If I were to go into that house again, I would never come out. If you are willing to go, I will shift you as far as the front yard, and then wait outside to bring you back." There was no desperation in his voice, and Rancoth knew that Adroman was simply stating the facts.

He really would die if he entered their home again; there was no doubting it. Despite the pain between them, Rancoth had no desire to see his father dead. He was after all his father, and the only family he had left, however absent he may have been.

Rancoth turned his attention back to Grecrum. "What would happen if you simply told Dal'Asaid that the necklace was lost, or irretrievable?"

"To be honest with you, I don't know. I can tell you this, however. When your mother accepted it, it was with the understanding that she would return it one day. And the Elfkin people had not expected to wait as long as they have. I wouldn't say that there has been tension between our two peoples over it, but they do want it back.”

Well, there was nothing left for it; he couldn't very well allow his mother to break her promise to a whole race of people, simply because he wasn't comfortable with the idea of returning to the nightmare that once was his home. It was, after all, his fault she never got to return it herself. What a sick twist of fate this is, he thought.

"I need some time to think. How much longer will the new Elfkin Chief wait?" Rancoth asked, hoping he would not have to make this trip tonight.

Grecrum smiled. "Take all the time you need, my young friend. They've waited fifteen years; a little while longer won't hurt them."

Just then Sahrisa walked in, still wearing the low- cut blue dress. Rancoth thought that one or two more buttons had been undone in front. Perhaps it was just his imagination.

"You summoned me, Arch Mage?" It was obvious that Grecrum had called her in with his mind, and the smile on his face grew as she entered the room.

"Yes, Sahrisa. I do believe it's time for dinner."

Sahrisa's smile could be seen clear up into her eyes. She truly loved her life and what she did for a living. "Excellent, what would everyone like?"

"Nothing for me, thank you, Sahrisa. I have very little appetite this evening, and a great deal to think about. Good night." With that Rancoth stood, nodded at Grecrum, and looked his father in the eyes for a few moments before walking rather quickly from the room.

9

Rancoth spent the next three days either with Dorbin or visiting pubs in the various quarters of the city. He had, of course, made up his mind about what he would do before ever even leaving the dining room that night; he just wanted some time to himself before taking on the task.

He knew, however, that he couldn't delay the inevitable. It was late in the evening on the third night when Rancoth approached the base of the tower steps, deciding that it was time to let Grecrum know his decision.

He had spent the day in a particularly seedy establishment in the far reaches of the city, drinking an ale or two with a handsome Dwalish girl who wanted more than conversation. Despite her offer of a warm bed, Rancoth had not been in the mood for more than a drinking companion.

As he started up the steps a familiar voice caught his attention, "Rancoth, wait. I'd like to speak with you for a moment." He turned to see Jurile, clad in her usual white silk tower guard robe, though, unlike most, hers was trimmed with gold, as was the tower symbol sash around her waist. The coloring was an indication of her rank as captain. Lieutenants were trimmed with silver, Sergeants with bronze, and all normal officers were trimmed in white.

She had aged well, and Rancoth found her intoxicatingly attractive. Her skin was still smooth and it remained a beautiful copper color. She still had high, firm breasts, and a shapely, round bottom. He often wondered what she looked like naked, but knew she did not return his interest. She would forever think of him as the little boy who needed help.

"Ah, Jurile what can I do for you?" Rancoth inquired, looking deep into her glowing amber eyes, trying with all his might to communicate his desire for her. Jurile smiled, clearly aware of his boyish infatuation.

"I heard you had a nasty visit a few days ago, and I was wondering if everything was all right."

Nothing more than maternal concern again.
"Everything is fine, thank you. My estranged father came to bare his soul, and I let him know how I've felt for so long. It was actually very cathartic. Is that all that brings you out tonight?"

"No, I'm actually just doing my final evening rounds before turning in for the night. I haven't seen you for a while so when I saw you walking up the street I thought I'd grab you before you went in the tower."

Rancoth put on his best smile before proceeding. "Have you eaten? You're welcome to join Grecrum and me for dinner if you'd like."

She looked down at her feet and then back up into his eyes, "Actually, I have plans for tonight, but thank you."

"It's all right. I actually already ate myself, and I'm sure Grecrum has too."

Jurile looked momentarily confused, "Then why did you ask?"

Rancoth's look of disappointment changed to a sheepish grin. "Just to see what you might say."

Jurile reached up and placed a hand on the side of his face. "Goodnight, Ranny." She then walked past him to finish her perimeter of the tower.

Rancoth stood with a stupid grin on his face, watching her walk away and finally disappear around the bend. He loved it when she called him that. If only he were a few years older. Ah well, no use dwelling on a fantasy. He climbed the steps, and nodded to the four door guards who were visiting between watches.

As Rancoth entered the great hall, he glanced up at the map behind the Arch Mage's chair. He then noticed a faint light coming from Grecrum's private audience chamber, and decided it was time to get it over with. He approached the door and knocked lightly.

"Please come in," Grecrum called out.

Rancoth entered the room and found Grecrum sitting behind his desk poring over one of his many books. Grecrum looked up and smiled. "Ah, Rancoth, what can I do for you?"

Rancoth sat in one of the chairs by the hearth. There was a small fire going that offered little heat, and even less light. But it was enough to watch and get lost in the flames.

Grecrum sat quietly and waited for the young man to speak what was on his mind. After a few moments Rancoth looked up, and smiled. "Well, I've decided to do it, which of course you already knew."

Grecrum nodded.

"Are you sure you can't read minds without the other person knowing it?" Rancoth asked, a bit skeptically.

Grecrum chuckled. "I'm sure. It has nothing to do with reading minds, my friend. The truth of the matter is that you are a good man, who understands honor and duty."

Rancoth rolled his eyes and offered a hearty "humph" as his only reply.

Grecrum stood and chuckled again, this time with a bit more exuberance. "Very well, I will summon your father at once, and he can whisk you off."

"No! Wait!" Rancoth said, reaching out as if to grab the older man by the arm. Grecrum sat back down in his chair and looked at Rancoth inquisitively. Rancoth allowed his hand to drop back into his lap. It hadn't really occurred to him until just this moment, but the map he had just glimpsed, and had studied at length more times then he cared to count, flashed in his mind.

"I don't want to be whisked away, as you put it. I've been thinking I'd like to get away from the city for a while, stretch my legs, see some of the world from a perspective other than from above if you catch my meaning."

Grecrum nodded and said, "I see."

Rancoth stood and began pacing the room. "I know it's only fifty miles, so I wouldn't get to see much, but it’s something. It won't take me that long, so the Elfkins won't have to wait much longer. Besides, I think it would be good for me." He stopped, and turned to look at Grecrum.

He thought of being away from the suspicion and the hushed conversations. Of going on an adventure, however brief it might be. Grecrum continued to sit in silence as Rancoth contemplated with eager anticipation an undertaking that he had been dreading just a few days before.

"I've thought similarly of late that it was time for you to take a break from things, so to speak." Grecrum said. "To get your feet wet, and take on more responsibilities, though I'm not entirely sure if this is the appropriate time to do it.

"I have not been completely honest about the patience of Dal'Asaid. While it was true the Elfkin Chief stated he was willing to wait for the artifact to be retrieved. Tension has been on the rise between our two people for the last several years. This is due in part to their knowledge of you. You and your unusual talent among the Light Magi."

Rancoth sat back down a little hurt, and confused. "Go on."

"Much like many people, the Elfkin think of demonology as a purely evil magic and are suspicious of any who might wield it, or who might support a wielder of it."

"You mean you. Don't you?" Rancoth asked, a little angered that anyone could doubt Grecrum.

Grecrum nodded. "Still, you have a point, and a week or two would make little difference in the grand scheme of things. Furthermore, if it was found out that you had undertaken the journey to retrieve the item, it might actually improve relations further. It would also provide some grounds for accepting you for what you truly are. A powerfully gifted, yet genuinely good person.

"Very well. How soon do you think you can be ready to leave?"

Rancoth literally leapt from the chair. "A day, two at the most!" he exclaimed.

"I'll inform your father and Dal'Asaid of your decision and pending departure. Thank you for doing this, my boy. Now, may I make a suggestion?"

Rancoth simply nodded his head, too wound up in anticipation.

"Take someone with you. Now, don't give me that look. Not to look after you or anything, but to provide company; and besides, only a desperate fool travels alone." 

Rancoth thought that there might be some concessions, but this one he knew he could live with. "I'll ask Dorbin, or Jurile. Would that work?"

"Hmm, I'd prefer you take Dorbin. Ask him first. I need Jurile around here, but if he refuses, then you may ask her."

Rancoth smiled. "I won't let you down, and thank you."

"No, it is I who thank you, my young friend. Now go and get some rest, you have a long journey ahead of you."