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The Lay of the Grandmasters Way
by Pyewacket



Act 6 The Final Act.



"You pitiful retches! What welcome did you hope to accomplish by this murderous attempt?"

The being stepped forward now, with renewed confidence and vigor in its stride. With a mere wave of its arm, all motion ceased.
The sparkling elemental forces garnered and unleashed by the four greatest living powers of magic shone like a tableau of frozen ice sculptures, iridescent in their hues and brilliance, and still demanding of awe despite the fact that all were now as still and silent as the grave.

Only the eyeballs of the frantic grandmasters moved, apart from the creature before them, swiveling balls of panic and ultimate dismay as they each realized that the other three companions shared their individual stasis, unable to move muscle nor tongue in defiance.

"You are fools. Think you that even combined you can stand against Time in all its eternal might and power? Even the Gods fear to hear of my footfall at their doorstep!"

Almost drooling with rage and spittle as it capered, the thing danced around in mock merriment before each of them in turn.

"By my hand alone does Mortos wield his power over death and its dominion, and so to Aluwen, for whom life would ne'er flourish were it not for My Whim to allow it so. No force can withstand me, neither mortal power or God can stay the onset of Time...spitwizard"

These words it all but whispered into the ear of Osreng, whose eyes now bore the sting of furious tears.

"For naught did you try to destroy me, I am the Master of Paradox, Destroyer of Worlds...I was there when the Fire within was quenched and all was lifeless! Arsonist"

It all but spat out the sentence in vehement hatred at Nerala, watching gleefully as her eyes burned with unquenchable inner rage.

"When the first molecule stirred in the depths of space, to the last burning winds of the end of all things am I made. Windbag"

Malevolent intelligence studied Jerun carefully as it spoke this last to him, seeking that telltale sign of emotion within the Air Grandmaster's eyes, the very windows of the soul betraying perhaps the volatile nature of the Master of Winds. Yet no sign was there, instead a steady gaze came to meet the eye of the creature.

"Defiance will not do you the least of good, Oh mighty Jerun, forget what foolish plans you are laying in your mind, you are already thwarted beyond your measure. Were you not always so before me?"

Ah. There it is, emotion at last...hate? fear? No, not those.

Puzzlement? Of course. It rubbed its hazy shifting hands together in glee.

"Ah yes, Jerun. You who thought you were always the master of your own destiny have had naught but a mere token allowance into how the path of your life has been tread. Each choice you seemed to make for yourself was designed by my hand. Each turning point in your life that led you to becoming the Grandmaster of Air was not the will of the Elements you have placed your foolish pride and faith in, but nay, they are mere connivances in the schemes I have placed before you."

Now the creature stepped to the last Grandmaster, and gazed levelly, coolly into her fair elven eyes.

"Before you ALL."

A twisted smile formed, shifting from youth to aged leer and back through the years again to a babies first smile.

"I it was that chose the time and place of the attack on the school of Magic, Osreng. Were not that done you would not now be Grandmaster. You, Nerala...simple child...power you may have had from birth and a mastery of fire, but were it not for my guidance at the right Time, you would not have seen a living gnome to this day. Jerun, think on this as you will, had it not been for the critical moment of the release of the Air Elemental power now under your command, when you first came to power as Grandmaster...when you were "chosen"...well...I hardly need tell you that the death of one your lady friend here held so dear to her heart was a mundane matter of coincidence, when all such matters of Timing are My Bailiwick."

Spinning now and gloating as its hands clawed and rubbed, the thing studied them in turn, watching the turmoil this news was having. Jerun, whose thoughts still did not appear to betray his inner feelings, merely blinked, as his gaze shifted momentarily to Rivena and back again to the creature.

"You still doubt My Power, Master of farts? Your own powers are incapable of even harming me, their very essences are but a fleeting moment in Eternity when they reach me. What is fire but a fragile thing that burns and is gone? Where is the wind in the vacuum of The End? What power water when naught but dust remains? When even the stars die out, where is the power of earth?"

"Earth...rock mud and stone...it is small wonder there is no heart within you. You of all should understand. You came here thinking that it was I who was an abomination? Because of the orchan simpleton? She tried to burn me and found I was already ash and dust. You tried to drown me and found I was nothing but algae. What hope had you that I can be bested by the likes of you?"

Once again staring into the eyes of Rivena, the creature now spoke low.

"Should it have been this way? Am I not worthy to be thine kin and equal? Or has it become spare the rod spoil the child so soon in our relationship....mother?"

"BAD BOY!"

No one knew when she'd arrived. But..as the gypsum washpot flew through the air from the outstretched hand of an old dwarvish woman, the creature turned in alarm. With a look of dismay on its face as the washpot completed its journey through both the intervening space, and, since it was simultaneously a large gleaming new washpot, an old rusted lump of twisted mineral and a solid unshaped clump of pure gypsomite, also through time, it thudded with considerable force into the creatures' skull.

The thing fell back, staggered and collapsed. As it did so, feeling and motion returned to the four Grandmasters, their powerful spells quickly dissipating as they stood around the fallen body.

"Is it dead, this Time?" asked Jerun, although he didn't expect an answer.

"Oh no deary. Cant be a-killing him. He'll be right as rain in a few, give him a bit. Meanwhiles get on over here and let us see yez? I been away from things a little too long it looks tell like."

"Ursul?!?" Rivena cried out with disbelief and ran forward to sweep the diminutive figure up in her slender embrace.

"But how? I....but I..." Jerun stammered, also incredulous and at last overcome with unleashed emotion, tears and bewilderment flooding his windswept features.

Nerala stepped up to Ursul and spoke low, "He was wrong. One other is stronger than him?"

"Yes my duck. And its why I am here, o' course. Can't be having this mucking around with things without the Boss's sayso. Gonna be hard put getting things to rights around here though, for all of you, looks like a part of the lands is fractured by more'n just earthquake, fire n flood."

As they glanced around the clearing about them, they noted the devastation around them, caused by the unleashing of the fundamental energies of creation they had called forth. They noted in amazement that already signs of growth were appearing in certain places. Buds forming and sprouting forth from the ground in certain parts of the ground and growing rapidly before their very eyes.

"What IS this devilry?" the voice of Osreng wavered in awe, not only at the appearance of one whom he long thought dead and gone, but at the sights around them.

"Look, the land is scarred by Time now, not just by yourselves. There'll always be something odd at this point. And as for me...well...laddo here may have thought himself all powerful but in truth there be just the one power that even he will answer to in The End. And its from there I am sent..as a guide if you will. Now..you lads take Nerala and get some berries and water, n' suchlike. I will make us a nice brew up shortly, but first I needs must have a little chat with our Rivena here. There's things we need to talk about and I ain't be having any of you lot prying and poking your nose in, ya hears me? Be off with you!"

Hands on hips, the old dwarf women scowled at the three Grandmasters as they left, bewildered and unsure of themselves for the first time in what seemed like centuries, picking their way through the broken ground and tree roots towards the deeper wooded glades nearby.

"Ursul...what IS all this? Who is that..thing? He called me mothe..."

"And so you are, my duck. Think it was a mere turn of phrase? Oh bless you no. No. You are not so young and green as you once were, as I once remembered you being. Not now. You feel the truth of the matter don't you deary? But daren't believe it? No Time for pleasantries on this nor breaking it gentle like. Go to it..him...tell me what you see..what ... who he is. Off you go m'girl."

With that, the slight yet rotund woman gently pushed the slender elf towards the recumbant form on the ground. As Rivena bent down, overcoming her fear and revulsion at the hazy shifting figure before her, it seemed to her as if the rapidly phasing aspects of the creature slowed, becoming each intermediate age of its cycle for a little longer each time. Amazed as the cycle slowed yet further, she saw an outline within the form take a more solid and defined substance, as if the true shape was either revealing itself, or it was merely being fixed to one particular state. Which it was she could not tell, yet as she gazed down and the figures ragged breathing become more apparent, she saw it was a child, laying there unconscious. The hazy effects still continued, but her perception of it had now altered, as if seeing through a mirage or uncovering the finest illusion. Yet no illusion was this.

"Its..he...a boy? But....how? I never...my..?"

"Master of Paradox, aint it? Able to bend Time to his will, that one, and create, control and undo all Paradox, for time itself is no more than that, and most certainly no less. Yet for all that power there was one Paradox over which he had no control. One which he yearned to change and alter to his will, but was denied by his very existence from tampering with. The one in which he was created, my dear. His birth. As a Paradox, its a rather nasty one. Y'see, being Grandmaster of Time isn't like being one of the others. You can't have a beginning, not a true one leastways, if you have to be there at either end. From start to finish, if you gets my meaning? So he was born and the birth became...removed...it couldn't exist or he would not be who he was..is..will be..erm..."

"So he..I saw glimpses of things...I was in labour but thought that might be the future...? Yet this..you are saying it has already HAPPENED??"

"Could be...could be, yes...hard to say really, don't know for sure and only way to find out is to live on and see. Eh?" Ursul gave a sly wink to Rivena and nodded in the direction of the woods where the others had gone off to, out of earshot but albeit not out of sight, for Rivena was in no doubts that the nod was directed specifically at Jerun.

"What do I...I am not..I can't.."

"No Time for pleasantries I said. Not for you, perhaps. So here it is. He is a child, and he is hurting. Angry because although he has grown in power and wisdom beyond his years he has lacked that which has given the rest of you understanding as to why your powers need careful handling. Balance. In short he has not had any contact with anyone, other than superficial observances throughout time. Enough to know what it is he is missing out on, basically. A family. A mother, a father....Love, guidance, the whole package," Ursul dropped her voice to a tender tone and continued, "I am all too aware that the guidance and love you received from your own family were not..ideal...but that merely gives you a far greater responsibility to ensure those same mistakes made in your OWN upbringing are not repeated BY you."

"I understand," said Rivena, as she bent down and carefully, lifted the child thing into her arms, feeling him stir, "Ursul...I don't know what to say..how to thank you or..."

"No needs my lamb, you knows I always looks out for those in me care, one ways or t'other. Now...only other thing I needs leave you to sort out is how you intend to tell boyo over there that he is an altogether too-proud-for-his-own-damned-good-sometimes father. But that's your affair and how you deals with it is none of my beeswax, I'm sure."

Gathering up her bent and misshapen washpot the old dwarf woman set to work then, making a small ring of stones to build a campfire and heat up some water. The returning group saw Rivena sat before the dancing and welcoming flames of the fire, cradling a small boy, apparently sleeping, in her arms.

As they approached with a gathering of berries and more firewood, Rivena looked up at Jerun and spoke quietly:

"Jerun..sit down...there's something I need to talk to you about..."

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But that is another tale, to be told by someone else perhaps. This one ends here..
 
 
   
 
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