Interim Errantry 2: On Ordeal

The Rirhait fixed its gaze on him. It was a progressive business, this—one eye turning its regard to him, and then the next, and the next, and the next…

Rho had no trouble holding still for this performance, partly due to its uniqueness, and partly because he was after all a prince and used to having a lot of eyes on him. What he was not prepared for was — when those eyes were all trained on him — to see every one of them sequentially rolled at him and shifted away in an expression of exquisite ennui.

When the eyes were all pointed in every direction that was not toward Rho, “And?” the being said.

Rho opened his mouth and closed it again, having absolutely no idea where to go from here. “Uh,” he said. Then he rolled his own eyes, for he could just hear his royal father saying, Truly, my Prince? Grunts? Shall we have it noised about that mere surprise can reduce the Sunlord-to-Be to take refuge in grunting?

Rho’s frustration tipped him over the edge, and he threw any further thoughts of caution to the five airts. “Excellent gentlebeing,” he said, drawing himself up tall, “perhaps a misunderstanding is in progress. Be it known to you that I am Roshaun ke Nelaid am Seriv am Teliuyve am Meseph am Veliz am Teriaunst am det Nuiiliat det Wellakhit, Son of the Sun Lord, Beloved of the Sun Lord, firstborn of the Sister of the Sun, Prince and Ruler in Waiting to the Wellakhit lands, and Guarantor of Wellakh.”

The Rirhait kept tapping away at the data input. Finally it paused, swung exactly one eye in his direction, and said:

“How lovely for you.”

On Ordeal: Roshaun ke Nelaid is a 45,000-word canonical work in the Young Wizards universe.

It’s available in multiple formats tailored to your preferred e-reader from Ebooks Direct, and also as part of the series collection Interim Errantry 2: On Ordeal.

As Vish lay by a great boulder at the edge of a rocky plain some days away from Ashmesh’s old lair, the Clever One said to her, It would seem to me that what you should do now is seek out wizards.

She stretched and yawned, and then lay still again, for she was just beginning to get past the satiety that had come of doing right by Ashmesh, and it was in her mind that another of the flying predators would taste good about now. “And what might wizards be?”

They are Tauwff with power, Ashmesh said. I once did justice to a wise one from the eastern stonehills who had eaten a wizard. He said that her mind had been full of astonishing things, as well as a strange language that no one had ever heard; and she used it to speak to stones and moss and water and air, and even the very sky.

“That doesn’t seem like much use,” Vish said. “I can speak to those whenever I please.”

But the wizard could hear them speak back, said Ashmesh, so the wise one of the Stonehills told me. And the dead things of the world would obey the wizard’s commands, after she had spoken to them a while.

“That might be of more use,” Vish said.

The most interesting thing, however, said Ashmesh, was that all wizards, apparently, come to meet the One who made the Doom and laid it on the world. They face that One in combat, and best It if they can.

“And how do they best it,” Vish said, unimpressed, “if the world is still as it is?”

The wise one couldn’t tell me, Ashmesh said. And the wizard he had eaten would only laugh at him, and would not tell him more.

“That seems rude,” Vish said. “Well, it seems that I must, as you say, seek out wizards. I will make them young within me, and they will tell me their secrets of how to meet the One who Made the Doom and discover how it may be unmade.”

That may not be enough, said Ashmesh, if the ones you make young are as stubborn as the one the Wise Tauwff of the Stonehills ate.

“If things turn out that way,” Vish said, “then maybe what’s needed is for me to become a wizard. If one wants to be a wizard, what does one do?”

The Wise One could never tell me that, said Ashmesh, nor could anyone else I’ve ever eaten.

Vish scowled in annoyance. “Then I will have to find out,” she said.

On Ordeal: Mamvish fsh Wimsih is a 30,000-word canonical work in the Young Wizards universe.

It is also part of Interim Errantry 2: On Ordeal.

You handed him the Oath just like that? Seriously?

Just like that.

A suspicious pause. A little rushed, wouldn’t you say? Not going to get the best response out of him under these circumstances.

Now there’s something I wouldn’t imagine you caring about one way or the other! One more failed wizard? I’d think that’s a positive result for you.

You know… I’m starting to wonder why you’re so interested in my reactions, one way or the other.

Oh?

Yes. In fact I don’t imagine we’ve had this long a chat about anything for…

You’re going to try to do this in local time periods, are you? This should be fun. …Then again, you were always big on trivia.

…Years, it would be here, wouldn’t it? Quite a lot of them. I have a vague memory that something very large sinking into the sea would have been involved. What was its name again?

A slightly pained pause. There would have been quite a few.

Afállonë, yes, that was one. Atalantë, the Downfallen Land. Atlantis… And a pause not at all pained, but entirely too darkly pleased. Death by water; so inevitable, one way or another. Such a lovely symmetry, when life here arose from it.

A sigh. Your point being?

Well, if you’re in such a hurry, then you won’t mind me rushing things a little.

A concerned pause. Wait. You don’t mean to—

Yes I do.

…In the first twenty-four hours?

Why not? Let’s see if he’s as good as you think he is. If not— And what follows, rippling many surrounding dimensions with with subspace-deep unease, is what even human beings would recognize as a shrug. What’s the problem? You can always make another.

And to the speaker’s considerable surprise, to this there is no response.