Quest for Knowledge (Volume 1 of the FirstWorld Saga) by Christopher Jackson-Ash (ebook reader wifi TXT) 📕

“The Seven Great Sages sat on their hands and watched and waited. It is said that Adapa, the First Sage, believed that Gadiel was sent by the Creators for some high purpose. As its conquests grew, humankind turned its focus to the other two races, the Firstborn elves and the Secondborn dwarves. Humans were jealous of their siblings and that jealousy was nurtured into hatred. Gadiel had by now determined His purpose. He was to enslave the world. Every sentient being was either to worship Him or to be destroyed. Gadiel had no knowledge of the Balance. He was not driven by the ideals of either Law or Chaos. It is because of this, perhaps, that Adapa did not see Him as a threat. It is said that Adapa met with Gadiel and the two of them debated the reason for existence. Gadiel realised that the Wise might still pose a threat to Him, for He still had much power to gain. So He assured Adapa of His good intentions and convinced him that there was no need to call a Council of the Wise. Adapa was taken in by His cunning lies and the Wise stood by while FirstWorld was taken over by the Dark God and His followers.” Simon wondered how Manfred was taking this slur on the Wise and glanced at the old wizard. His face seemed expressionless and he betrayed no emotion. Were they really so wise after all?

“The threat to the elves and the dwarves grew more pressing. A large army crossed the Ford of Ukhaimir and threatened to march on Elvenhome. Fang and Tamarlan had fallen and the plan was to starve the dwarves out of Devil’s Mouth. There were a few of the Wise who saw through Gadiel’s deception. The greatest of them was the Great Sage Bedwyr, who was the first of the Seven to pass to stone. He fell in the defence of Elvenhome and it is said that it took all of Gadiel’s power to break his staff. The successful defence gave the three races a breathing space. Bedwyr’s student was the Wizard Manfred.”

Kris paused in his story to bow low to the Chairman. Simon noticed that Manfred’s eyes were glazed over, as he no doubt relived the events of so long ago. “Forgive me, master, if my story has changed in the many tellings, for I only have the words that were passed to me, while you were there.” Manfred opened his eyes and gestured for Kris to continue.

“Manfred seized the opportunity to urge the three races to act together. He knew that since the Dark God was essentially a human creation, it would take a human to defeat Him. But it would need a special hero with supernatural powers garnered from the other races. Manfred had long understood the concept of the Everlasting Hero and his sword. There is a land far to the west of here that is called by some Britain, by others Albion. I have travelled there in search of stories, though often in mortal peril. It is a wild place now, but it is said that once it was at peace. In those days, it was ruled by Arthur Pendragon, who carried the sword Excalibur. Arthur was aided by an old wizard, named Merlin. That is a story for another day, but the similarity of wizard, hero and sword is fascinating, is it not?”

Simon thought he saw Manfred smile, just for an instant. Can it be true? Manfred was Merlin? Kris smiled too and then continued. “Manfred sought the help of the elves to locate Excalibur. From the dwarves, he obtained the Blood Ruby. The story of his journey to Devil’s Mouth, evading Gadiel’s army, and convincing the dwarves to give up their most precious possession is an epic worthy of an entire evening around the campfire. Suffice it to say, after many adventures, he brought the jewel to Elvenhome, where the two greatest elven smiths fashioned it into the hilt of the Sword. No sooner had they finished than one of them picked up the Sword and slew the other. As soon as the Sword tasted his blood, the ruby took on an eerie, pulsing glow. The Sword consumed his soul. When he saw what he had done, the second smith threw himself onto the Sword, taking his own life. The ruby in the hilt grew brighter. Too late, the elves realised that they had created a monster. They named the Sword Fleischaker, meaning Butcher of Souls.” The bard now had the audience eating out of his hands. Simon was spellbound yet at the back of his mind he heard faint whispers. I am Fleischaker. I am yours. Come and claim me.

“Then out of Erech came the hero Gilgamesh and he took up the Sword as his own and he was invincible. It is said that he carved his way single-handed through the armies of Gadiel. As he killed, he sang in a strange tongue while the Sword shrieked and glowed with fire as it consumed souls. At the end, with his armies scattered, Gadiel and Gilgamesh faced each other on Battle Plain. It is said that they battled for forty days and forty nights. Gilgamesh was fortified only by the Sword, which had consumed so many souls that it had enormous energy. Gadiel was weakened by the loss of his armies, but more so by the loss of belief in him by those who survived. They were evenly matched. Neither one could land a fatal blow on the other.” Simon was hanging on every word. You are Gilgamesh reborn. Together we shall feast.

Despite the audience reaction, Kris still appeared nervous. His eyes darted here and there and he didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. He shuffled backwards and forwards, seemingly unable to stand still. “After forty days and forty nights, they called a truce. Gadiel had devised Gilgamesh’s weakness, for he desired immortality above all things. Gadiel offered Gilgamesh immortality if Gilgamesh ceased his attack upon him. They would go forth from the field of battle as equals. Gilgamesh succumbed to his desire and agreed. He laid down the Sword. Gadiel seized his chance and tore out Gilgamesh’s heart. Gilgamesh spoke his last words, even as he saw his own heart beating in the Dark God’s hands. ‘On Elannort and by Fleischaker, I curse you. You will never rule while Elannort stands. Fleischaker will ever be your bane.’ Gilgamesh died. Gadiel attempted to pick up the Sword. The Sword was angry that it had been denied its kill and was hungry for souls. It screamed and sunk itself deep into Gadiel, sucking the Dark God’s energy into itself. But the Sword was denied again, for Gadiel had no soul it could steal. So Gadiel survived, but was so weakened he again fled into the Northland to slowly recover his strength and plot the downfall of Elannort and the Sword.” The tension in the room seemed to ease with a great release of breath. But the bard wasn’t quite finished.

“It seems he has regathered his strength and comes now to attack Elannort and claim his vengeance. It’s ironic, is it not, that the Balance will swing ultimately to Chaos, not by the hands of the servants of Chaos but by a God created by humankind?” Kris bowed again to Manfred and sat down. The storyteller’s spell was broken and the room was suddenly filled with chatter. Simon was still taking it all in. The implications were enormous. Surely, they can’t think that I’m Gilgamesh reborn? That sword is evil. How can I be expected to touch it, let alone use it?

Slowly and carefully the final man stood. He was very old. His back was bent and hunched and the little hair that remained was pure white. In his hands, he held a package, wrapped in white cloth. It was long and thin. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and calm. There was a sense of peace in his pale blue eyes.

“I am from Erech. My name is of no concern, for I have no status there or anywhere. It has saddened me that our city should not send a representative to this meeting. Neither has Sumar or Karo, I see. Ever we dwell in dreams of complacency while our world crumbles around us. My Lady Rheanna, it does my old bones good to see you again. I would bow low to you if my old back were still flexible. Well I remember visiting the Great Library, thirty years ago, for my research. My Sage, I have devoted my life to the study of Gilgamesh. I have run a small museum in Erech for many years. It has had little patronage and I have struggled to survive. However, I have always known that my life had a greater purpose. Today, I fulfil that purpose and hope for a sweet eternity to follow.”

He swallowed deeply and seemed to struggle for the breath to continue. “It is well known that the Battle Plain was over the Ford of Uruk, in the triangle of land between the two south roads. Indeed, the site of the final battle remains barren today. No plant will grow there and no animal will venture close. It is a cursed place. I have spent much time there, studying, searching, excavating, and collecting. It bent my back, but never broke it. During my excavations, I unearthed many artefacts. Only one of them is of real importance. It is the culmination of my life’s work that I bring it here today, for I know it has great importance in what must follow.”

Slowly, painstakingly, he began to unwrap the white cloth. Every eye in the room was upon him. Does he have Fleischaker? Does he have my sword? Finally, the object was revealed. There were a few gasps of surprise. It was a scabbard. The leather looked old and weather-beaten. It was inlaid with many jewels and there were faint representations of many strange symbols that Simon took to be runes. The scabbard was fused to a leather belt. The belt had no buckle or other visible means of being secured. It must be damaged.

“This is the scabbard made by the elves after they had created Fleischaker. It is protected by the most powerful runes and spells that could be generated. Only when sheathed in this scabbard could Fleischaker safely be controlled. It was lost when Gilgamesh fell. I know not where Fleischaker went, though I think it unlikely that the Dark God took it. That is for others to determine. My feeling is that this scabbard will be essential if you are to recover Fleischaker and use it. I offer it now, with goodwill, to the Everlasting Hero.” He looked straight at Simon and their eyes met. He means me. He wants to give me the scabbard.

Jhamed prodded Simon in the ribs. “Go to him. Accept the scabbard. By the Balance, I never thought this would happen today. Go on. What are you waiting for?” Simon looked across to Manfred for a sign and the wizard smiled and nodded his head. Simon stood and made his way to the old man. He stood in front of him, not knowing what to do.

The old man spoke again. “My life’s work. May it be enough to help? May it earn my eternal rest?” He looked deep into Simon’s eyes as if reading his soul. “I both envy you and pity you, Hero. The ownership of this scabbard has corrupted and dominated my entire life. Even now, at the culmination of my existence, I can hardly bear to give it up. How must it be to hold Fleischaker, to wield It in battle, to feel the power as It eats