The Emperor of Etor

"Anaxus III Caesorium, Emperor and Lord, our Protector, has spoken," the man bellowed. He stood in a vast hall, surrounded by men and women, of all colors and nationalities. Perhaps that is an overstatement. While all colors and nationalities were represented in such a crowd, they were primarily light- and copper-skinned Etorans.
Near the center of the hall was Sallustius of Varalens. A year ago, he had been a powerful general, battling Irinian brigands in the West. Half a year ago, he had declared himself Emperor, and made his hometown the new capital. Things began going downhill for the upstart once word of his succession reached New Etor. He had mustered a few victories, suffered several defeats, sown dissent in Anaxus' ranks, and killed rivals within his own. Now, he was kneeling on the ground in Anaxus' throne room, weeping and begging for mercy.
Anaxus felt no temptation to offer mercy. This man had torn at the fabric of the Etoran empire. He had betrayed his nation and killed his former comrades. And now he was going to lose his genitalia and his head.
It seemed that there were threats to the Empire in every direction. In the south, the warlords of the Little Lands were making constant incursions into Etoran territory. In the west, Irin grew increasingly aggressive. In the north, there were attacks from giants. In the east, the Norgad raiders were growing ever more aggressive. Meanwhile, a new generation of sorcerers was being born, some taking up occupancy in the Violet Tower. A Tower that Anaxus II claimed he had burned to the ground during the wars of reunification. The inquisition killed most of these budding students of evil, but it seemed every week another found refuge at the University. Trouble had been brewing for half a century. And it was up to the current Emperor, Anaxus III Caesorium, to end this trouble, and restore the Etoran Empire to its full greatness.
Anaxus stood before his courtiers. He knew that some among them were considering revolts of their own. He needed to make sure that every single one of them knew the consequences of rebellion.
"Look at him," the Emperor said. It was a carefully calculated volume. It would echo throughout his chamber, yet still sound like a whisper. "Look how he has been brought low by the empire. Many have been brought low before us. My own father, Anaxus II, exiled my traitorous uncle Phorius." Of course, he had made Phorius his lieutenant before then

 Phorius had saved his life during the Wars of Reunification. But, ultimately, Phorius was a sorcerer, and that made him a traitor. "Like my father before me, and his father before him, I have no tolerance for traitors. I have no tolerance for bandits in the Little Lands who presume to raid our borders. I have no tolerance for Irinian spies, or demon sorcerers. All enemies of the crown and the gods will be vanquished. The Etoran Emperor shall reign eternal!"

Anaxus had done his governing for the day. He was free. Unfortunately, he didn't have much to do.
It was always good to circulate among the nobles. Doing favors, sniffing out dissent, making allies. But after the speech he had made, everyone would be on guard. There would be no dissent to sniff out, and nobody would dare ask him for a favor.
Anaxus had no real companions. His wife, Glaravere, was the eldest sister of the King of Irin. He had first met her on their wedding day. Since then, he had done his best to avoid her.
He had children, but none were legitimate. And it wouldn't be fitting for the most powerful ruler in the world to take a hand in the rearing of a bastard child. Even if it was beginning to look like one of those bastard children might succeed him.
Anaxus had once had friends. Back when he was young, when his younger brothers called him Nax and they played war games and seduced women together. Now, his brothers were dead. Two had died in battle. Anaxus had had the other three executed.
The Emperor had tried to cultivate hobbies. He had been a student of history, but he had found the events tame compared to his own life. He had tried to collect a library, like his ancestor Lescius. But a man steeped in censorship cannot in good conscious preserve books. He had tried to become a sportsman, but rulers are not suited for competitive sport. For instance, he could never be allowed to lose.
So Anaxus sat alone, in a golden chair, in a marble hall, in an ornate building, in the most important city in the most powerful nation in history. He had guards on either side of him. He didn't pay close attention to his guards. Yes, his great-grandfather had been murdered by treacherous security, but Anaxus had protections in place. There were watchers, and people to watch the watchers. Those people, unbeknownst to them where also watched, and those watchers reported directly to the Emperor.
These guards were skilled. Many had been trained from birth. Trained separately, so as to avoid too much camaraderie. They were supposed to be loyal to the Emperor, not each other.
The life of an emperor was a solitary one. But it still had its luxuries. He ordered a bath to be drawn. The finest Etoran engineering allowed for water to be stored right above the bathhouse, and for the bath itself to be heated by wood fires. Anaxus inhaled the scent of burning rosewood as he sat alone in his private sea. Yes, there were still things to be enjoyed in life. Anaxus was woken from his reverie by a monstrous cloaked demon screaming at him and threatening to kill him.

"I am Terix," it spat. The creature stood at the edge of the pool, It looked vaguely human. It appeared to be covered in bandages, save for its eyes, mouth, and fingertips.
The Imperial Guard rushed to defend their master from this strange creature. Terix carried no weapon, yet, somehow, they all ended up dead soon after they reached him. "I serve Koteph, the mage of the Black Tower."
"Who?" Anaxus had heard of the Black Tower. He had even heard a rumor that his uncle Phorius had lived there.
"My master is the mightiest sorcerer in the world. He seeks to march upon our mutual enemies, the University."
"You invade my home, kill my guards, and talk about mutual enemies. Leave this place!"
"You fool," Terix seemed to sneer. "I could kill you just as easily. And I will, unless you prove yourself useful."
"Do you want money?"
"Do I want money? I am a Touchkill, a monster birthed by the great Ochekol'kan. Both Koteph and I are shades. We have no need of your money."
"Then what?"
"We want your army. You will join forces with Koteph's force, and we will take the Green Tower."
Anaxus considered his options. He was alone with this monster, who, it seemed, could kill men by touching them. It seemed best to play along. "Very well. Together, we shall plunder the Green Tower."
"Yes," Terix said. "Plunder."

Anaxus began to plan the Etoran Empire's next campaign. Now that the traitor Sallustius had been vanquished, it was time for a new war. The Empire would topple the University. A foolish northern sorcerer had even offered his aid. Anaxus was confident he could spin this situation to his advantage. Destroy the University, kill this Koteph, and show everyone that sorcerers always lost against the Emperor of Etor.

The Night of Four Stories: Part IV

"You wanted to know how I got these eyes. How I came to see things the way dragons do. How I gained their knowledge and power."

"You are curious how I acquired them. Did I outwit a dragon? Overpower it? Did I win these eyes in a game of chance? No."

"Before I acquired these eyes, I was a slave of Koteph. I was a shade. He sent me to wander the myriad worldlets that bordered our own. Many of those worlds had last been visited by elves, or dragons, or the Shapers themselves. Koteph hoped that I might find some great power for him. I did find a great power, of course, but it didn't end up helping him."

"During one of my journeys, I was accosted by a herd of horsemen."

"A heard of what," I asked.

"Horsemen. Their upper bodies were those of men, and their lower bodies were those of horses. I expect that they were made by a Shaper. Possibly as an alternative to men. But that is just speculation."

"I was walking towards a large tree. It reached the ceiling of this little world, and I thought it might hide something of interest. The horsemen were all galloping the other way. They seemed to be running from something."

"Now, common sense says that if a couple dozen horsemen are all going the same way, running from something, perhaps you should join them, if you value your life. But I didn't value my life. I wanted to find something for Koteph. So I ran towards the tree. And came face to face with a titanic dragon."

"The dragon saw the spirit possessing me. It invoked the spirit's True Name, freeing me. It spoke to me in the True Speech, which I somehow understood."

'A lesser elf. Is that what they got up to after I left? How peculiar.'

I, of course, didn't speak the True Speech. 'The term is human. I am a human. I know the True Name of fire, and my sorcery can-'

'You are pathetic. Not even an elf. Sorcery? A poor excuse for magic.'

"The dragon was not very impressed. But he had never seen a human before. He had been wandering minor worldlets since before we had existed. He decided that I would tell him all the news he had missed. I told him how his creator, Takenor, had been imprisoned. The man in the moon. The dragon wasn't happy about that. I told him how elves didn't exist anymore, and men had been made to replace them. I told him that the Shapers had disappeared millennia ago, and nobody knew why. I told him that men had cities and magic that rivaled the elves at their greatest. He laughed, and told me not to flatter myself."

"He kept me there for several weeks. He let me sleep, and hunt. I used the True Name of fire to cook my food. I noticed the fire came up easier. He said that it was because of another dragon, a few worlds away, who was dying. Apparently, the two dragons had come into conflict, and my dragon had been the victor. The loser was still alive, but his power was depleted and his injuries would soon kill him. His mighty throes were spreading flames throughout the worlds. Only a few of the great beasts were left, apparently."

"We talked more. I told him stories of great heroes. I told him about the ancient rivalries between the Violet and Yellow Towers, or the Black and White ones."

Dran and I shot each other glances.

"I told him about Koteph. How the shade was gaining power in the north. I did not yet know his plan, but I suspected he wanted to conquer the world. Eventually, the great dragon tired of me. He flew off, and disappeared to another world. I never saw him again."

"But, as you have likely surmised, the story does not end there. I was alone in a distant world. I only half remembered the spells I had used to get there. For the first time in months, I was free of Koteph's influence. I knew that the shade was growing more powerful by the day, and he threatened the world. I thought about the power that had freed me. The dragon. And it occurred to me that for the first time in all my wandering, I had met something mighty enough to challenge Koteph. I knew that no dragon would ever return to our world to do battle with a shade. But I did have an idea."

"After days of experimentation, I reconstructed the spells too travel between the worlds. I used the True Name of fire, and divined the location of the dying dragon. I walked between the worlds, drawing closer to it. Eventually, I landed there. A world on fire. It is fortunate my power protected me, because everything else was turned to ash. I approached the dying dragon. It looked at me with its orange eyes. It knew what I was planning to do. It couldn't stop me. I got to work."
"I returned to Koteph. Impressed him with my power as I gained information. I used these eyes to see his creations, to gauge his strength. I used my eyes for good."
"That's why I took this power. Because I needed it. I pried it out of a dragon's skull to protect the world. And I will always protect the world."     

The Night of Four Stories: Part III

It was Cassinder's turn to tell a story. I admit, I was more than a little curious to hear what she would say.
She stood, and spoke in short sentences. "Once there was a seer. His name was Teres. He lived in a little house near a big ocean. He liked to stare at the ocean, watching the waves. One day, another man came to join him. His name was Aculion. Aculion used to be a student at the University, but he left. He was a mage. He knew about water."
I had never heard this story before. And I had done extensive research into seers. This could mean that Cassinder was using her power to tell stories from the distant future or past. Or it could mean that she was making stuff up.
"Aculion didn't like the people at the University. He thought they didn't do anything-"
"How could anyone possibly think that," Dran exclaimed. He bent over laughing.
"Aculion wanted to become king of the ocean. He thought if he looked at the ocean enough, he would learn things. He would learn the True Name of the sea. So he joined Teres. Every day, they would look at the ocean."
Cassinder's voice began to crack. "They lived together for a long time. They did some things together. They stopped some pirates. Aculion became more powerful. He made it easier for ships to move. He asked for money in return. He became very rich. But he still lived by the sea. One time, a war started. He liked the king of one country. He didn't like the other king. So he sank all the other king's ships. He flooded the other king's city. He stopped the other king's rivers."
I saw that Dragoneyes looked concerned. More concerned than when he heard the story of Ochekol'kan.
"One day, Teres had a vision about Aculion. He saw that Aculion would be bad. He would become king of the world. He would kill anyone who disagreed with him. He would kill a lot of people."
This story was beginning to seem very unlikely. A mage who could end wars and threaten the world, who I had never heard of?
"Teres didn't know what to do. His only friend was a monster." Cassinder began to cry. "He thought about killing Aculion. He wanted to stick a dagger in between Aculion's ribs while he slept. But he didn't want to lose his only friend."
"So he told Aculion. He asked Aculion to never do this."
Cassinder went silent.
"What did Aculion do," Dragoneyes asked.
"He killed Teres. He didn't want anyone to try to stop him."

"Well," Dran said, "I guess it's time for Dragoneyes to tell his story. Time to find out how exactly he acquired his namesake trait."
But Dragoneyes had already gotten up. He opened the door, and left our makeshift home. I ran after him. I caught up with him about ten paces outside. I'm not a very fast runner.
"You have power of sound, correct?"
"Yes," I said. "Sound is carried by air. Many who know the True Name of air actually develop superior hearing, or the ability to change their voice."
"Interesting. Make it so nobody can overhear us."
I used the True Name of air.
"What did you think of Cassinder's story," he asked.
"It seemed pretty unlikely. It made a reference to the University, so it must be comparatively recent. But there is no record of anyone like Aculion."
"I'm worried," he said. "I'm worried... that I am Aculion."
Sudsdenly, the story made a lot more sense. The seer. The stranger hungry to expand his power. It also shed new light on the amount of time those two had been spending together. Did that mean... It wasn't important. What was important was that my powerful mage friend thought he might someday threaten the world. I considered my options.
"No, you can't kill me."
That was one option.
"You couldn't kill me even if you asked Dran for help."
That was another option.
"Even if you did rally a dozen or so sorcerers to kill me, that would leave Koteph unopposed."
That option had never been viable anyways.
"Maybe it was just a coincidence," I said. "No reason to think what she was saying had any bearing on reality."
"Maybe," he said, looking hopeful.
"Anyways, why would she do this. Why would she tell you this, when it works out so badly in the story."
"With my power, she couldn't have kept it secret long anyway." He paced around angrily. "I would never do that. I wouldn't kill her."
"You also wouldn't try to take over the world."
Dragoneyes seemed to ignore me. "I'll explain things to her. Make them right. I'll explain everything. To all of you."

The Night of Four Stories: Part II

Dran had finished his story. It was my turn to speak. "Hello," I said. "I will be telling the story of how the University was founded."
Dran commented that my story sounded boring.
Dragoneyes commented that Dran should shut his mouth.
"The seven towers predate humans. They have several properties that make them attractive homes. First of all, they are each brightly colored towers, all with ancient and illustrious histories." At this point, I bit back the urge to explain why the White Tower's history was in fact slightly more illustrious that the Black Tower's. "They are invulnerable. No tower can be damaged by either sorcery nor brute force. Even mages who know the True Name of stone cannot move the blocks of the Towers. As such, they grew rather prestigious. For a sorcerer to make his home in a Tower- it meant he was one of the most powerful men on the planet."
"The Green Tower was obviously the largest and most impressive. Each of its eight shafts dwarf any other tower. It was more centrally located. It quickly became the most prestigious- and the most hotly contested- of the towers. Whenever the Green sorcerer grew weak, be it from age or sickness, the others would be upon him, ready to tear him apart and take his land. If he ever grew distracted, be it from love or magical research, his more vigilant rivals would take him by surprise. People say that mages tend to live remarkably long lives. But the lifespan of a Green sorcerer was surprisingly small."
"There was one particular Green sorcerer who wished to break that trend. His name was Anitax, He was getting on in years, and knew that it was only a matter of time before someone eclipsed him in power. So he decided to step down."
"No sorcerer had ever voluntarily given up the Green Tower. Anitax was considering just running away. But he knew that would result in a bloodbath, with a succession of weak and powerful sorcerers swooping in, attempting to occupy the vacant Tower." I paused
Vacant was a relative term. By the time of Anitax, the Green sorcerers had taken to renting out many of the Tower's hundreds of rooms. Some had become nobles in their own right, carving out empires in the surrounding lands. Not that the surrounding lands had much to offer.
"Anitax decided to spare the world a sorcerous war. He invited three of the world's most respected mages to compete for the Green Tower. Whoever most impressed him with a feat of magic would be given control of the tower. The three he invited were Tarean, of the White Tower; Uilim, a sorcerous warlord in the north and east; and Colocon, a mage who knew three True Names. They all noticed the airs of old magic as they approached the Tower. Centuries of sorcerous battle had created a stark landscape of eternal flames and gashes in the ground. Anitax's subjects did not have easy lives. The three sorcerers each vowed that they would come to rule the land from the Tower Green."
"Tarean killed a monster, a giant being that could be found only during the black of night. Uilim raised a mountain. Colocon, meanwhile taught two other mages the True Name of water-"
"And Anitax was impressed," Dran interrupted. "He gave Colocon the Tower so he could teach sorcerers for ever and ever, the end. Boring."
"Actually, you are completely wrong. Anitax was impressed by Tarean, and decided to make the former White Mage his successor. But Tarean had scarcely moved into the Tower when Uilim launched an assault. Their battle lasted for days. By all accounts it was remarkably destructive. The Green Tower, needless to say, remained undamaged, although the same could not be said for its residents."
"Colocon and his disciples decided to seize the moment. Colocon issued a decree: the Green Tower was open to all. It was too much for any one sorcerer to defend. So it would be defended by a multitude. Any sorcerer might come, and his compatriots would teach him all they knew."
"And thus, the Green Tower became a center for learning. Colocon, the first Archmage, invited magic users from every kingdom. But he also invited those with no talent for the mystic. A small city began to grow in and around the Tower, one which exists to this day. The University became a center for everything from sorcery to poetry, with innumerable small shops needed to support the more academic population."
"And now, Koteph threatens this great peace. Even if he is stopped, who is to say that this grand tradition of learning will live on? Who is to say that the Green Tower will not once again rise over a bleak landscape of magical doom?"
"We do," Dragoneyes responded. "I do."    

The Night of Four Stories: Part I

We rode through the foothills of the mountains. Specifically, the large, unnamed mountain range in the middle of the continent. I call them the Green Mountains, since that's what people at the University tend to call them. They weren't green, but whoever came up with that name evidently did not care.
Dragoneyes was still entertaining himself with the creation of swords. But he had also developed the hobby of erecting small houses every night. "Tents are rather primitive," he explained.
At one point, after watching him create an especially intricate structure using nothing but his own power as a mage, I was burning with curiosity. "How did you get like this? How on Earth did you manage to kill a dragon?"
"I'll tell you later."
"Tell us now," Dran insisted.
"No."
"Why not?"
Dragoneyes sat down as a wooden chair erupted from the floor. "How about each of you tells me a story, then, if we haven't fallen asleep, I'll tell mine."
Cassinder returned from wherever she had wandered off to, responding to Dragoneyes' proposal before Dran or I could. "They will agree."
"Umm, yes, I will," I stammered.
"So will I," Dran said.
"Well, in that case," Dragoneyes said, "I think Cassinder should tell us a story as well."
"I will."
"The stories don't have to be about us," I clarified.
"Of course. I've been present for every interesting event in your life."
"Well, that's not entirely true..." I struggled to think of an exception. "One time, when I was doing research into the history of irrigation in the Etoran Empire..." I thought for a moment. "Actually, maybe Dran should go first."

Dragoneyes summoned chairs. He even made a campfire. I cast a charm to keep the smoke under control. Then, Dranarius began to speak. "I'm going to tell you what we know about Ochekol'kan. My father was an authority on her monstrous children. He found this story in a book called The Ossoniad."
I couldn't help but interrupt him. "Your father had read The Ossoniad?"
"He owned a copy. Read it several times. Said I could have a look when... never mind" Dran didn't want to talk about his late father. "He told me this story to help me sleep at night. It was not effective."
"As we all know, Ochekol'kan was one of the Shapers of the World. The beings who spoke in True Names and made the universe with their power. What many people don't appreciate is that she wasn't very high in their pecking order. She was dwarfed by an even greater evil, Takenor."
"Takenor was probably the greatest of the Shapers. He created the Dragons, and probably also the mountain range we are all enjoying right now. We don't know the name of his primary rival. Translations of translations of Elven texts call him 'Our Maker'. More recent scholarship calls him the Elfshaper. That's how I'll refer to him."
"Takenor decided he didn't want this Elfshaper challenging him. He decided it was time to show the other Shapers who exactly ruled the universe. But he knew that he couldn't battle all the rest on his own. So he made more Shapers. Most of their names are lost to history. Actually, all of their names are lost to history except one: Ochekol'kan."
At this point, Dragoneyes interrupted. "I am no scholar of history, but I'm pretty sure Ochekol'kan and Takenor were lovers."
"We don't know for sure about that," Dran responded. "We do know for certain that he was her creator. Infer from that what you will." Dran returned to his story. "Now, Takenor was defeated. One bit of writing says he was chained to the far side of the moon, although that may have been a metaphor."
"Most of his offspring were killed in the battle. But the Elfshaper argued for lenience for the rest. He pointed out that they couldn't really be blamed for being loyal to their creator, and they shouldn't be punished for it. So they joined Shaper society. They even shaped some forests and valleys of their own."
"Now, let's talk about the elves. They were probably like humans. Probably taller, and fairer. We know they were immune to age and sickness, and that they spoke the True Speech and knew only True Names."
"They created six towers from which to govern the world, while the Shapers ruled the heavens. White, Black, Red, Blue, Yellow, and Violet. One fateful day, the Lord of the Red Tower, and elf name Aelaian, decided to hold a great celebration of his daughter's beauty. Some of the Shapers elected to attend. Elves and Shaper's alike marveled at the lovely elf. As you can imagine, the other women were rather jealous. Most of them swallowed their bitterness. But one didn't, Ochekol'kan. She... Well, you might say she overreacted. She destroyed the entire Elven race in one bloody day."
"The other Shapers were outraged. The Elfshaper, especially. He destroyed most of her creations as recompense. But that was not enough. He ordered that she be imprisoned. He created a final Tower, green, in memory of the elves, and buried her beneath it. And, to prevent her escape, he caused her to forget the True Speech. What we know from her few visitors suggests that she quickly lost all ability to reason."
"The Elfshaper wanted to recreate his children. But the other Shapers of the World urged him not to. The Ossoniad said Ishii and Noouk gave impassioned speeches on the subject. They said it was folly to create a race that could challenge them in knowledge and power and greatness. So instead, men were made. Mortal men, who could never compete with their creators, never arouse their ire. Men who must now contend alone against the god who destroyed their predecessors."
"And that's who we're fighting to stop. Someone who destroyed a race in a single day. One who has been driven beyond reason, beyond the ability to be reasoned with. One who has had thousands of years to grow very resentful of everyone else."

Koteph's Army

In Koteph's camp, things were coming to a head. The Giants were demanding to meet with Koteph, to arrange a move to greener pastures. Koteph was busy. Although his body remained in the Black Tower, watched over by palemen and protective spells, his mind was, quite literally, wandering. He journeyed through the realm of spirits. He hunted them down, captured and enslaved them. Some were malevolent, some had been friends to humans. Perhaps if they were to organize and band together against him, they could triumph. But the idea of organizing was a strictly human one. Only men, and the other creatures of the material world, were capable of such a thing. Spirits, especially those with little exposure to the world of men, were not.
Koteph did not tire. His body was not capable of such a thing. He was a creature made of bones and screaming spirits, held together by his own magical power. He was awake, he was focused, and he was enjoying himself. He was hundreds of times more powerful than any other shade in history. He could cross a continent with a single step. He could call storms and reverse the flow of rivers. He felt confident that, given adequate motivation, he could reduce a mountain to rubble.
On his corpselike face, a smile formed.

Meanwhile, the Giants were having another meeting. This meeting hadn't been called by Gurgal Stonecrusher. It was the upstart, the firebrand, Durd, who had ordered the convocation, without Gurgal's knowledge. "It has been days," Durd complained. "And Koteph has done nothing. And Gurgal has done nothing." There was a smattering of boos. Many of the Giants knew better than to boo Gurgal. And they all knew better than to boo Koteph.
"Now, we face a question. Will we do nothing? Or will we go, and force the Sassiles to give us our food." There was a general consensus that this was a good idea.
Gurg continued riling the crowd. He railed against all those who had wronged them, past and present.   The Gaints cheered him.

Giants are not very sneaky. They aren't very secretive. So the Sassiles had plenty of warning that a gigantic mob was tromping towards them. The began to mount their own defense.
Other creatures of Koteph's army began to congregate. The Stoneflows and Touchkills seemed to side with the Sassiles. But many of the stranger creatures sympathized more with the Giants. One of a kind creations of Ochekol'kan. Bleos, the tentacled beast. The Slooo, a creature of water. Ghakshaksh, An amorphous blob with hundreds of mouths. He did not appreciate the food shortage.
The two armies were arrayed on the same field. They were waiting for the slightest excuse to start killing each other. Even the smallest disturbance would ignite conflict.
At this point, Koteph entered the situation in an explosive flash.

Koteph paralyzed the monsters all of them. The thousands of Giants and Sassiles and Stoneflows and other beings. He held them in place with his sorcerous power.
"This violence is pathetic," he snarled. His voice was amplified. It sounded strange and terrifying. It gave the distinct impression of being a very loud sound spoken a great distance away. "Go back to your duties. And rest assured I will punish those responsible."
Koteph addressed the different groups specifically. He told the Giants to go back to their forges. He put he Stoneflows in charge of foraging. The Sassiles were to resume training exercises.

Tlon needed a new tactic. He had tried to breed resentment between the different factions. In his role as Durd, he had nearly succeeded. But now, Koteph had struck fear and loyalty back into his troops. Tlon would need to start over. And now, he knew that Koteph could end tensions with a wave of his magical hand.
Tlon considered leaving. He had done his part. He had tried and failed. If he told enough people about this, he would become a footnote in some fat history manuscript. What more could anyone expect? Tlon could retire to the woods now, and nobody would bother him for another thousand years.
But as much as he wished it, the Formchanger knew that wasn't possible. He had seen Koteph's powers first hand. The shade was a serious threat to the world. And if he failed, if he were killed by the Archmage or Dragoneyes, that would mean that a very powerful man would hold a grudge against Tlon for not doing more. So Tlon would need to continue his work and sabotage.
Would could he do? Well, he was a shapeshifter. Maybe he could shift into a shape Koteph would trust, ask him some questions, give him some bad advice, or try to kill him. That would make a for a fun couple of days.

The Mind's Eye

The problem seemed insurmountable. Dragoneyes had approached it from every angle. He could bribe or threaten the mine owners. But they would lapse into their old ways, or new men, just as evil, would take their place.
Dragoneyes could use his power to free the slaves. To break their chains. Maybe even transport them somewhere else. But it would do no good. An army if Etoran slave traders would rush in to undo the mage's action.
If Dragoneyes took the most extreme route possible, forcing his way into the mine, invoking the True Name of Stone, and destroying the evil mine, someone would simply start a new one, and the very same salt deposits would be extracted by the very same slaves.
"Not to hurry you," I said, "but we really do need to hurry."
Dragoneyes look up at me with his eldritch eyes. He was sitting in a chair, and it was clear I had interrupted his thoughts."If we can't save a hundred miners in an Irinian border town, we cannot stop Ochekol'kan."
"True, but if we spend all of our tune saving a hundred miners in an Irinian border town, we won't be able to stop Ochekol'kan."

"The people in the mines need me."
"The people in the world need you."
"Think of this as practice," he said. It was nearly dawn, and I could tell he hadn't slept. "I need to think of creative ways to use my power. Not just forging a lot of swords."
"I'm not sure I buy that," I said. "Wouldn't you be better off applying your creativity to making creative defenses for the Green Tower?"
"It's not just about the Green Tower," he snapped. Flames danced around his fingers.
I was a little intimidated. Honestly, I considered abandoning the topic. But the fate of the world rested on my shoulders, and I didn't think me friend would hurt me. "As long as the Green Tower hosts a monstrous goddess as old as creation, and as long as a powerful shade is marching on the Green Tower to set her free, yes, it is just about the Green Tower."
Dragoneyes knew I was right. But he couldn't abandon the people in this mine. Not after he had seen their suffering. "A compromise," he suggested. "I have until sunrise."
I looked outside. I could already see the beginnings of dawn. "Very well," I said. "We leave tomorrow morning."

As the sun rose over the horizon, Dragoneyes made his way into the mines. He stared at the white piles around him. He looked into the crystals, the cubic systems formed when the world was young. He saw the the nature of salt, and he saw the True Name. He spoke a name. Not the name of salt, but that of wood. A staff formed in his hand. He pondered the staff, the knots and whorls. Then, only then did he speak the True Name of salt. He bound that Name to the staff. He infused it with power.
He needed to write. To leave a note explaining this staff. He could make thin sheet of wood or... a tapestry.
Dragoneyes thought about the True Name of cloth, and a tapestry formed. It explained the use and purpose of the staff. It had detailed diagrams explaining how to make more. It would be easy to make more, given the first one. The power had been set free.

"What did you do," I asked.
"Well," he said, "I saw your Aeronautic Shaft back at the White Tower, and again when we made the windmill. I remembered what it looked like. I focused on the image in my mind, and I knew how to make one. I made a shaft that could control salt. I made it so that it could be split in two. There will be no need for slaves in the mines. It can all be done with magic."
This gave me some measure of satisfaction. The relentless progress of magic want improving lives. But I also saw the bigger picture. "You could understand a complex piece of magic, not even by seeing it, but by remembering what it looked like?"
"Yes." That made me realize something. It wasn't just his eyes that had changed the day he blinded that dragon. His mind, too, had been transformed. He was connected to the world in a fundamentally different way from the rest of us. I remembered a few days ago when he had read a letter before I had sent it, arriving already knowing that Cassinder had been cured. Would his vast senses continue to grow? I had a strong suspicion that they would.
Dran interrupted my thoughts. "So, what do you think will happen to the slaves now."
Dragoneyes frowned. "They will likely be sold into some other conditions. Likely better conditions, but this is still not ideal. When this is over, when Koteph is defeated, I will return for them."

That night, Cassinder couldn't sleep. But she didn't want to. She waited.
The door to her tent rippled, and Dragoneyes stepped through it. Just like she knew he would. "Sorry for showing off," he said. "But the thought of actually walking through a door was tempting." He spoke a fraction of a Name. "It should be back to normal."
Cassinder knew that Dragoneyes would ask her a question. And he knew that she knew. And she knew that he knew that she knew.
"What happens to them?"
"The slaves? They are resold. Most of them will work in houses. They will be cooks and cleaners. Some will starve." Cassinder shuddered.
"Was I right? Was I right to do what I did."
"I don't know."
The two of them regarded each other. One could see the future. One could see the past and present. But neither of them could see what was the right thing to do.
"Have you ever seen the stars," Dragoneyes asked.
"I don't know how they will end."
"I do." Dragoneyes walked outside. Cassinder followed. "They are great flames, like our sun. Some much larger, some much smaller. They dwarf the powers even of the Shapers of the World. They are ancient beyond reckoning, and will survive long after the last man has breathed his last breath. But one day, they will run out of fuel, and those great flames will go out. But seeing the lifetimes of the stars, it gives you perspective."
"If they were merely endless, that would be one thing," he continue. "But they have a definite lifespan. A set number of days. A number too great to hold in the mind. The world isn't endless. It is a speck inside a speck inside a speck."
"The world is wide, and the future is long. Both unimaginably so. It boggles the mind's eye."
Cassinder was confused. "What is your point?"
"I don't have one. I just thought it was interesting."