The Complete Darkwar Trilogy: Flight of the Night Hawks, Into a Dark Realm, Wrath of a Mad God. Raymond E. Feist
And he knows that he is not as the gods made other men. But he doesn’t yet begin to understand what that means.’
Nakor glanced around and continued, ‘No one in this room was made as other men are made. Each of us has been touched in one fashion or another, and because of that we are condemned to lead lives that are both uniquely wonderful and terrible.’ He grinned. ‘Sometimes both at the same time.’
His face resumed a thoughtful expression. ‘During our struggles with the agents of evil, we have pondered what purpose such evil serves, many times, and the best answer we have reached is an abstract hypothesis: that without evil, there could be no good, and that our ultimate goal, for the greater benefit of all, is to achieve a balance where the evil is offset by good, thus leaving the universe in harmony.
‘But what if the harmony we seek is an illusion? What if the natural state is actually a flux, the constant struggle? Sometimes evil will predominate, and at other times good. We are caught up in the endless ebb and flow of tides that wash back and forth over our world?’
‘You paint an even bleaker picture than usual, Nakor,’ Pug interrupted.
Magnus agreed. ‘Your ant-seige on the castle sounds more promising than being swept away on endless tides.’
Nakor shook his head. ‘No, don’t you see? This shows that sometimes the balance is destroyed! Sometimes the tide sweeps away all before it.’ He pointed to Bek. ‘He is touched by something that he doesn’t understand, but his understanding is not necessary for that thing to work its will upon him! The Dasati are not evil because they wanted to be that way. In ages past, I’d wager that they were not unlike us. Yes, their world is alien and they live on a plane of existence that would be impossible for us to endure, but Dasati mothers loved their children once, and husbands loved their wives, and friendship and loyalty flourished ages ago. The thing we call the Nameless One is but a manifestation of something far greater, a thing not limited to this world, this universe, or even this reality. It spans—’ he was lost for words. ‘Evil is everywhere, Pug.’ Then he grinned. ‘But that means, so is good.’
Nakor struck his left palm with his right fist. ‘We delude ourselves that we understand the scope of our decisions, but when we speak of ages, we do not understand them. The thing we fight has been preparing for this conflict since men were little more than beasts, and it is winning. The Dasati became what they are because evil won on their world, Pug. In that universe, what we call the Nameless One overturned the balance and it won. They are what we will become if we fail.’
Pug sat back, his face drawn and pale. ‘You paint a grim picture, my friend.’
Nakor shook his head. ‘No, don’t you see? All is not lost – if evil can win there—’ He looked at Pug, then at Magnus and his grin returned ‘—then good can win here!’
Later, Pug and Nakor walked along the sea shore, letting the warm breeze and salt spray invigorate them. ‘Do you remember Fantus?’ Pug asked.
‘Kulgan’s pet firedrake that used to hang around the kitchen from time to time?’
‘I miss him,’ said Pug. ‘It’s been five years since I last saw him, and he was very old, dying I think. He wasn’t really a pet, more of a house-guest.’ Pug looked out at the endlessly churning surf, the waves building up and rolling in to break upon the beach. ‘He was with Kulgan the night I first came to his hut in the woods near Crydee Castle. He was always around back then.
‘When I brought my son William from Kelewan, he and Fantus became thick as thieves. When William died, Fantus visited us less and less.’
‘Drakes are reputed to be very intelligent, perhaps he grieved?’
‘No doubt,’ said Pug.
‘Why think of him now?’ asked Nakor.
Pug stopped and sat on a large rock nestled into the cliff face where the beach curved into an outcropping. To continue their walk, they would have had to wade through the shallows around a headland. ‘I don’t know. He was charming, in a roguish sort of way. He reminded me of simpler times.’
Nakor laughed. ‘During our years of friendship, Pug, I’ve heard you talk of your simpler times but I would hardly count the Riftwar, your imprisonment in Kelewan, becoming the first barbarian Great One and then ending the war,’ he laughed, ‘and the Great Uprising, and all those other things you, Tomas and Macros accomplished as being anything close to simple!’
‘Maybe I was just a simpler man,’ said Pug, fatigue evident in his voice.
‘Hardly, I’ll accept you had a simpler understanding of things years ago. We all did, in our youth.’
‘Fantus had a capricious nature, he could be as unpredictable as a cat or as steadfast as a dog. But I think the reason that I dwell on him today is because he and William were inseparable.’
‘And you think of William?’
‘Often. And my adopted daughter, Gamina.’
‘Why this reflection now, Pug?’
‘Because my children are in harm’s way again.’
Nakor laughed. ‘I know they are your sons, Pug, but the term children hardly applies to Magnus and Caleb any longer. They are not only men, but men of great resolve and strong character – men whom any father would be proud of.’
‘I know, and I do feel proud,’ said Pug. ‘But I am fated to watch all those I love die before I do.’
‘How do you know this, Pug?’
‘When I fought the demon Jakan as his fleet sailed into the Bitter Sea, I attempted to destroy his armada single-handed – one of my more arrogant moments. As a result, I was almost killed by a powerful magical ward.’
‘I remember that,’ said Nakor.
‘In the Hall of Lims-Kragma, I was given a choice by the Goddess. Only my family know of the decision I made, and then only part of it. In short, I was allowed to return and continue my work, but in exchange I must watch everyone I love die before me.’
Nakor sat on the rock next to Pug and was silent. After a long minute, he said, ‘I don’t know what to say, Pug. But perhaps there is one other thing to consider.’
‘What would that be?’
‘I am older than you, and everyone I knew as a young man is also dead. Everyone. Sometimes, I remember faces yet cannot put names to them. It is the curse of being long-lived. But, you might have been cursed even before you spoke to the Goddess.’
‘How so?’
‘As I said, I have also outlived everyone I knew in my youth. My family was never much of one; my mother died before my father, but he died soon after her. It didn’t matter, for I hadn’t seen them for more than thirty years, and I didn’t have any brothers or sisters either.’ He shrugged. ‘But that doesn’t mean I haven’t come to love people, Pug. And losing them is always painful.
‘There is an ancient Isalani blessing intoned at the birth of a baby: “Grandfather dies, father dies, son dies”. It is a blessing because it expresses the natural order. I have never been a father so I can’t imagine what it was like to lose William and Gamina. But I remember how it affected you. I saw that. I saw what it meant for you to lose them.’
Nakor shook his head as if struggling to find the words he sought. ‘But I have lost a wife, twice. The first time I lost her when she left me to seek more power. And the second time … I killed her, Pug. I killed Jorma. The body I knew her to possess had died decades before, and she occupied a man’s body when I ended her life,’ said Nakor with a slightly rueful laugh. ‘But that didn’t change the fact that she was someone whom I had loved, in whose arms I had lain, and whose presence made me more than I was without her.’ He looked at Pug and his eyes were shining with moisture as he continued. ‘You, I and Tomas, have been chosen for something by the gods, and that honour has its price.
‘But