Shon stood outside his uncle’s home, trying to prepare himself for the argument he was about to start. He could feel himself sweating from a combination of the heat outside as well as his nerves, and he was grateful that the ability to sweat had returned to him four days previous. He could remember clearly the day that the effects of the Camel Truffle had finally worn off. When he had gone outside to relieve himself that day he was shocked to observe that any person could urinate so much.

As he considered going in to talk to Grodin, his bladder felt weak once again. He had spoken to Grodin before of leaving the desert, and it had never gone well. For some reason it brought such frustration and resentment out of his uncle that the summer equinox had been two years since the last time he had brought it up. The last time Shon had asked to leave Life’s Edge, Grodin had ended the conversation by practically threatening to kick him out of the house.

None of that mattered now, however, because Shon had decided that he had to leave. When he, Tarun, and Grodin had returned from the Endless Desert, Tarun almost continued to walk right out of town that day. Shon had tried desperately to convince him not to leave, but in the end Shon succeeded only in convincing Tarun to stay another seven days to let the wounds on his arms and legs heal. During that time he had talked with Tarun, and the two of them had decided that he would leave with Tarun after he had the chance to talk with Grodin about it. The trouble was that Tarun’s wounds were healing much faster than Shon had expected, and now he was growing impatient.

Shon was determined to follow through with his plan. Tarun was the best friend Shon had ever had, and if he didn’t go with him, they would probably never see each other again. After all, Tarun was plenty strong, but with no memory whatsoever, other than what he had gained in Life’s Edge, Shon was uncertain how his friend would fare with no assistance. Leaving together would give both of them the best chance of surviving on their own.

Shon squared his shoulders and took a deep breath as he stepped up to the door, preparing to confront his uncle. He grasped the handle firmly, and pushed the door open, only to find the house empty and the shutters drawn. All at once Shon felt his courage falter and a feeling of profound foolishness for getting himself all worked up. He thought his uncle was in the house, but why hadn’t he used the magic of his mind to confirm it? I have to start thinking like a wizard, he told himself. Closing his eyes to block out distractions, Shon listened with his mind, and quickly discovered that Grodin was right next-door in the greenhouse.

Shon hurried outside, flustered that he would not have time to prepare himself again to face his uncle. He rang the brass bell a bit louder than he intended, and the feeling of foolishness once again assaulted him, making the tops of his earlobes burn. He did not have to wait long before Grodin came out the door of the greenhouse. “What is it, nephew?” he asked.

Shon had paid attention the last time he observed Tarun speak in his commanding tone, and tried to do his best to mimic his voice and body language. He squared his shoulders, placing both feet directly beneath each shoulder, put his hands to his side instead of fidgeting or grasping each other, and looked Grodin directly in the eye. “Uncle Grodin,” Shon said, “we need to talk right now.” Shon was greatly disheartened at how his voice faltered and cracked at the end of the sentence.

Grodin inspected Shon up and down for a long moment, then said, “Yes, I think we do. Come in to the greenhouse, Shon.”

Shon tried not to show his surprise at his uncle’s invitation. The last time he had been allowed inside his uncle’s greenhouse he had been much younger. He could not even remember what the inside looked like. Trying to remain focused on the issue at hand, he entered the door held open by his uncle.

Shon coughed several times from the unexpected humidity inside the greenhouse, and he began to remove his tunic, only to remember that he had not worn an undershirt that day, and so he left the tunic on out of embarrassment. Meanwhile, Grodin had walked to opposite side of the greenhouse and began trimming a strange thorny plant that Shon did not recognize. “So,” asked Grodin, “how soon will you two be leaving?”

This question left Shon completely speechless for several moments, and when he finally regained his voice, all he could manage was a weak, “What? Who?”

“You and Tarun leaving Life’s Edge,” said Grodin, pausing from his work with the thorny plant. “Isn’t that what you came to speak to me about?”

Shon was able to regain some of his composure this time. “Yes,” he replied shakily, “and nothing is going to change my mind about this!”

“Nothing, eh?” Grodin said, with a strange expression on his face. “Not even knowing that if you leave, you will never be able to come back and live in my home again?”

Shon’s resolve wavered for a moment, and he did not want to offend his uncle or lose the only home he could remember. Then, regaining his best commanding posture and tone, Shon responded, “No Uncle Grodin. I don’t know why this makes you so angry, but even if I will no longer be welcome in your home, I will not change my mind. I am leaving Life’s Edge.”

“Good,” Grodin said, wiping dirt from his hands to his pants. “It’s about time. Now take a seat, nephew. I hope you remember all of those questions you’ve been asking all these years because I can finally answer them.”

Shon found a stool close to him and dropped himself down on it. He could hardly process what was going on. His uncle was not upset at all. If anything he seemed relieved. Does my uncle really think so little of me? Shon wondered. Have I really been such a nuisance to him all these years? Shon felt that he suddenly didn’t know his uncle at all, and the thought crushed him.

“On second thought,” Grodin said, “why don’t you hold your questions until I finish. There is a lot you need to know, and it will help if I start from the beginning. I hope you can forgive me, Shon, but there were certain secrets I had to keep as long as you lived under my care.”

Shon’s heart suddenly lifted. His uncle wasn’t relieved that he was leaving. He was glad to finally reveal the truth. “What secrets?”

“Family secrets,” Grodin said. “Concerning your mother, your father, and myself.” Grodin pulled up a stool to sit next to Shon, and took a deep breath. “Where to begin?” he wondered out loud. “I suppose you would most like to hear about your parents. I couldn’t even tell you their names in case you ever came across someone who had heard of them.”

“Were they famous?” asked Shon.

“In certain circles, they were both quite well known,” Grodin replied with a smirk. “Your father’s name is Alla Nen, and your mother is Pedhma. I met your father when we were both quite young and foolish. I imagine we both would have died long before you were born if we hadn’t had each other to watch our backs. He was as loyal and clever a friend as I could have ever hoped for, and the most skilled mage I have ever encountered.”

“Your mother, as I have told you before, is my younger sister. It was I who introduced them, and I’m still not sure whether or not it was a mistake. Pedhma was several years younger than Alla Nen and me, and she had only recently begun to develop as a sorceress, but she was one of the fiercest souls I have ever known, and it didn’t take her long to catch up to us in skill.

Shon had tried to interject at this point, but Grodin raised his palm to silence him. “Interruptions at this point will only make things take much longer,” Grodin said before continuing.

“The three of us traveled together for a long time,” Grodin said with a smile, “and we each made a name for ourselves. Even those who didn’t know our names had heard of the Sorceress, the Mage, and the Druid.”

“A druid!” Shon said in wide-eyed astonishment. “No wonder you know so much about plants!”

“I know a great deal more than that!” laughed Grodin. “I am quite out of practice, but I imagine there is still little hope of any foe defeating me when I am surrounded by real forest. You know that I am not fond of braggarts, nephew, but I have never found another druid that could match me in knowledge or skill.”

“The same could be said of both your parents. Both were unparalleled in their particular skills. Your father excelled at constructing magical items and equipment with near flawlessness. He had particular skill in creating items that could respond to the thoughts of their owners. Your mother’s specialty was conjuring, and she was sought particularly to create familiars for other wizards and magic users. Her magic was tied closely with the emotions of others, and this enabled her to conjure according to the personalities of her patrons. I had never known such warm and faithful companionship than among the three of us.

“For your mother and father, however, companionship led to affection, and ultimately to love. It was on their wedding day that I decided that they should share their lives together without me. They did not object strongly, and they appreciated my approval of the marriage. I never realized how much I would miss them until the day we parted ways.”

Grodin was quiet for a moment, then looked up at Shon and shook his head saying, “Listen to me. I’m rambling on like an old man. You want to know what all of this has to do with you. Well, let me get to the point. You probably won’t remember much of what I’m going to tell you because you were still a very young boy when the two of us came to live in Life’s Edge.”

“The two of us?” Shon interrupted, “I thought you already lived here, and I just came to live with you?”

“No,” replied Grodin “we came here together. I had only visited Life’s Edge once before we came to live here. I was not very impressed with the place, but your parents insisted, and I had made a promise.”

“What promise?” Shon insisted, growing impatient. “Why have we been living in Life’s Edge if you didn’t even like it here in the first place?”

“Shon,” Grodin said, “when you were born, your parents adored you. They were both passionate people, and everything they did they threw their whole hearts into. You were no exception. It wasn’t long before they started planning and fantasizing about your future and what you would become. The trouble was that your parents both had very different plans. They both wanted you to follow in their footsteps.”

“They were both magic users though,” said Shon. “Why should that have been a problem?”

“Your father held very firm to the practice and philosophy of mages,” said Grodin. “He was amazing at finding new ways to use his magical abilities, but he always documented the process meticulously, so that he could recreate the process. As a sorceress, you mother had been trained that magic could only be potent when it was used by instinct; never the same way twice. Your father wanted to see you become a mage, your mother wanted you to become a sorcerer, and they could find no way to come to any agreement.

“As you grew, the arguments became more heated, and threats and accusations became harsh. When your parents contacted me for help, they could hardly speak to one another. They had hoped that I could act as a mediator between them, because I loved them both. I did my best, but emotions were too raw, and neither one would give any quarter. Neither one wanted to give up on the potential they saw in you.

“It was I who eventually came up with an idea that I hoped would be for your best interests in the long run. Since your parents could not think clearly at the time, it was agreed that you would live with me while the two of them took some time away from the issue and each other to let their tempers cool. When they finally felt that they could speak rationally with each other again, then they would return and I would turn you over to their care once again.

“Unfortunately, their long quarrel had left them scared and suspicious, even of me. They agreed to my plan only if I would make certain promises to them. I was not allowed to let you learn any magic until they both returned and came to a decision, or until you were no longer under my care. I was not allowed to tell you anything about your parents for fear that if you learned of them you might start to favor one over the other.

“The third condition was that we had to come to live here in Life’s Edge where I would be unable to use my magic as a druid, and thereby influence you to follow in my path of magical development. Life’s Edge also seemed ideal to your parents, because with the severe lack of magical energies, it was unlikely that you could develop your magical talents without them. I don’t think any of us expected for you to remain here this long.”

“What do you mean?” asked Shon. “Why didn’t they ever come back for me? Don’t they still want me?”

“I’m sure that they do,” replied Grodin in a firm, but gentle voice. “Which is why I cannot say why they have not returned. I have stayed awake countless nights wondering the same thing. They were both so formidable, that I find it hard to believe they are both dead, unless their arguments became so fierce that they attacked each other.

“Attacked each other?” Shon shouted, his voice breaking. “My family is broken, and my parents may have killed one another all because of me!” He could feel his throat constrict and tears began to burn behind his eyes.

“No!” shouted Grodin, slapping his thigh and looking intensely into Shon’s eyes. “Your family was broken because of your parents’ cursed stubbornness and pride! I love them both dearly, but I may never forgive them for what they let their arrogance do to you.” Grodin sat stiff on his stool, his fists clenched with white knuckles. “Forgive me,” he finally said. “I spoke unwisely. I have no evidence that your parents ever attacked one another, and I should not have burdened you with that thought. In my heart, I do believe they are both still alive.”

“However,” Grodin said, standing up and walking to a corner of the greenhouse, “they both led adventurous and dangerous lives, and so they gave me instructions in case neither returned. They told me that when you were finally old enough to leave my home and my care on your own that I should give you their gifts.”

“Gifts?” Shon asked, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of receiving something from his parents.

“Yes,” said Grodin, “they agreed that they would each be allowed to leave you one gift in case something happened to them, and they could never return. They are gifts of no small value, though they may seem unremarkable at first. I’ve been hiding them here in my greenhouse ever since you became old enough to snoop around the house.”

Grodin turned to a large crate of soil that he was standing next to. After a moment, Shon realized that the crate was actually a box and that only the lid on top had any soil in it at all. After removing the lid, Grodin reached inside the box and retrieved a large bundle of red cloth and some sort of stone. After setting down the stone, he flapped the bundle of red cloth hard, sending bits of loose dirt and dust into the air. When Grodin held the cloth up unfurled Shon could see that it was an old and dirty hooded cloak.

“This is a traveling cloak that your father made,” said Grodin proudly. “It may not look like much, but it is protected from several forms of magic, and the material is so tough and durable that your father had to use enchanted shears just to cut the fabric. This cloak saved Alla Nen’s life several times.”

“My father wore this cloak himself?” Shon asked excitedly.

“Of course,” Grodin replied with a smile. “If you look on the right shoulder, you can see the insignia of Alla Nen. That insignia was always on his creations, and he enchanted the design so that it could never be copied or impersonated.”

Shon stepped toward his uncle and wiped the dirt away from the right shoulder to reveal a design of the moon on fire. “May I put it on?” Shon asked.

“You might want to consider washing it first,” said Grodin with a smile, “but if you don’t mind the dirt, I’m sure it won’t mind you.”

Shon quickly took the cloak from his uncle and put it over himself. It seemed a little large for him at first, but as he wore it, the cloak almost seemed to change to fit him better. As he turned around, Grodin smiled wide. “Well how about that?” Grodin said, “you really do look a lot like him.”

Shon was so excited at the prospect of looking like his father that he pulled the hood of the cloak over his head, despite the heat of the greenhouse. As soon as the hood covered his head, Shon let out a sudden gasp. “Uncle!” Shon shouted, “everything has gone silent! I can’t hear anything!”

“What?” Grodin asked, alarmed. “What do you mean?”

“Wait,” Shon said slowly, starting to calm down. “No, I can hear you. But something about your voice is different. I can only hear you when you’re talking.”

“You’re not making any sense, nephew,” Grodin said. “Take the hood off.”

As soon as Shon removed the hood, his eyes opened wide and his face lit up with understanding. “That’s it, uncle!” Shon said. “When I had the hood on, I couldn’t hear your thoughts anymore. I couldn’t hear anyone’s thoughts, not even a whisper!”

“Interesting,” Grodin said, stroking his beard. “Your father used to pull that hood over his face when he was trying to think or focus on a problem. ‘It quiets my thoughts,’ he used to say. I wonder…”

Shon experimented a few times with the hood, pulling it over his head and taking it off again. He discovered that he could still hear his uncle’s thoughts while wearing the hood, but only if the opening of the hood was directly toward him.

“That may prove a valuable tool in learning to focus your abilities, Shon,” Grodin had pointed out.

“What about that?” Shon asked excitedly, pointing to the stone that Grodin had set down earlier.

“Ah,” said Grodin, picking up the object. “This will take a bit more explaining. I told you before that your mother was particularly famous for creating familiars for other magic users. Do you know what a familiar is?”

“A magical animal that follows a wizard around?” Shon guessed.

Grodin smiled wide. “That is a fairly rudimentary description,” Grodin said, “but you have the right idea. A familiar is a creature conjured up by a wizard or other magic user to be a companion, a general helper, and sometimes even a protector. Many familiars appear to be regular animals like ravens, cats, or snakes, which exhibit exceptional faithfulness as pets. Others look quite more exotic or fanciful, or possess unique powers of their own. If conjured skillfully, a familiar will also act as a reflection of the wizard it belongs to. What your mother left you, is a familiar egg.”

Grodin handed Shon the object and he looked at it with confusion. It looked and felt more like a fist-sized rock than any sort of egg he had ever seen. Instead of being round, it was angular, jagged, and irregular in shape. It also felt quite solid. It was mostly white, but it also had a slight luster that shimmered with several different colors when held in the light. It was slightly warm to the touch, and as he held it he had the unsettling sensation that it had a pulse.

“What should I do with it?” Shon asked.

“Just keep it close to you,” answered Grodin. “It will gradually absorb any excess magical energies that you harness, as well as slowly imprint on your thoughts and personality. Eventually, when it has absorbed enough of your characteristics and magical energy, it will release that energy and conjure your own familiar. Your mother created the egg, but for all intents and purposes you will be the creator of the familiar because it will be conjured from your magical energy.”

“When will that happen?” Shon asked excitedly.

“It’s impossible for me to say,” said Grodin. “It will happen much sooner if you always keep it close though. Oh, and don’t worry about it breaking. As I’m sure you can already tell, it’s quite solid, and quite hard.”

Shon slipped the familiar egg into one of the several inner pockets of his new cloak. “Thank you, Uncle Grodin,” he said. “Thank you for these gifts, and especially for finally telling me about my parents. You don’t understand how much it means to me.”

“For once,” said Grodin with a smile, “I think you are right about what I don’t understand.” Grodin clapped his hands together. “Ah,” he said as he walked towards the door of the greenhouse, “before I forget. Now that you are no longer under my direct care, there is something else you should have for now.” Grodin picked up a rod of wood nearly as tall as he was that was leaning against the doorframe. “I asked your parents if I could give you a gift as well, but they refused,” he said. “So this will have to just be on loan until you can return it to me.”

“Thank you, Uncle Grodin,” said Shon, “I know you are quite fond of this walking stick.”

“Bah!” said Grodin, pulling the rod away. “You forget I am a druid. This is my staff, not some mere walking stick. This staff was grown for me by a very old and wise magical tree from one of her most sacred branches. There is deep magic inside it, and I will not see it disrespected.”

“Forgive me,” said Shon quickly, “I did not mean offense. Until today I always thought you were merely a gardener, and that was merely your unusually long walking stick.”

Grodin let out a chuckle and relaxed himself. “Yes, I suppose that is true,” Grodin said. “I can hardly blame you for your ignorance when I was the one keeping you in the dark all these years. I do want you to take this seriously though, Shon. Do you know why most magic users carry a staff or wand?”

“To channel magical energies through?” Shon ventured.

“That’s correct,” Grodin said, impressed. “Magic users are natural conduits of magical energy, but having a proper staff or wand helps to reach those energies more effectively. Think of it like a lightning rod in a storm. The energy will be more attracted to such a conduit, which supplies more of those energies to the magic user.

“Different staffs are better equipped to channel certain types of energy than others, so it often takes magic users several years before they find one that best serves their purposes. I don’t imagine that my staff will be nearly as effective for you as it is for me, but it will be better than nothing to start out with.”

“Is it true that most magic users give their staves or wands names?” Shon asked.

“It is,” Grodin said with narrow eyes.

“Will you tell me this staff’s name?” asked Shon.

“That’s a rather personal question,” Grodin said quickly. “Still,” he said after a pause, “I suppose I should tell you if you’re going to be using it. But I first want you to promise that you will not laugh at the name.”

“Of course I promise,” said Shon, confused.

“Hmm,” grumbled Grodin, “that isn’t a promise your mother or father were able to keep. Still, I better tell you so you don’t go trying to give it a name yourself. That would be a real mistake.” Grodin paused for a moment, and then said, “Its name is Stick.”

Shon managed to control himself enough to not laugh, but he could see why his parents had. “That seems a rather simple name,” he said with a straight face.

“Many with lesser staves have said the same,” said Grodin. “It was what its mother tree called it when she gave it to me, and I have found the name to be sufficient. Now, are you ready to receive it?”

“I believe so,” Shon replied.

“Good.” Grodin held the staff out towards his nephew. “Shon,” Grodin said in a loud voice, “I present to you my staff and give you temporary stewardship over it. Stick will treat you as its master until it is returned to me.” He then handed the staff over to Shon.

As soon as Shon’s hand made contact with Stick, he was astonished. His mind was suddenly opened further than it had ever reached before. It was as if wax plugs had been removed from his ears for the first time in his life, so great was the increase of clarity with which his mind heard the thoughts of others. He was amazed to find that he could now hear the thoughts of everyone in Life’s Edge, and he possessed far greater accuracy in finding and singling out the thoughts of individuals among the crowd. “This is remarkable,” he said in a whisper. He looked to his uncle and proclaimed, “Now I am truly ready to leave.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Grodin. “Now go fetch Tarun so we can discuss what the two of you will do once you are gone.”

Shon
Art by Ryan Salway

Throughout the second day of their journey Shon continued in his attempts to convince his uncle to reveal more about his knowledge of magic, but Grodin’s resolve to say no more remained as immovable as a tree. At length Grodin was forced to threaten Shon that he would never reveal anything more unless he ceased his questioning for the remainder of the trip.

After that, Shon’s mood became worse as the sun rose higher in the sky. He began to complain about the blisters on his feet, and the ache in his back. He complained that his head and belly were too cold from the Kraken’s Embrace, and the rest of his body was too hot from the sun beating down on his dark traveling cloak. Most of all, however, he complained about the direction that they were traveling.

“I’m almost positive we have passed this exact same dune before,” Shon said at one point. “Unless you have some sort of magic to give us the right direction, how can you be sure we’re walking the right way?”

“I am using no more magic than a keen sense of direction, and considerable knowledge of navigating in the wild,” growled Grodin, growing impatient. “I didn’t always live in the sheltered and uneventful little world of Life’s Edge, unlike some whiny little upstarts!”

“It also feels to me like we are headed in the correct direction,” interrupted Tarun, trying to avoid further arguing. “Though I have to admit that the farther we travel in this direction, the more I feel apprehensive about continuing on.”

Grodin took a deep breath to regain his composure. “I apologize Shon,” said Grodin in a low, calm voice. “That outburst of mine was uncalled for. I imagine that my rudeness, your complaints, and Tarun’s unease are all results of the monotony of this trip. I have no idea how long it will be before we find anything, but I do believe we have traveled farther than anyone else in recorded history, and that must be worth something. Tarun, how could you have ever crossed this on your own?”

“Shh!” Shon suddenly interrupted with wide eyes. “Everybody be quiet!” Shon looked from Grodin to Tarun. “Do either of you hear that?” he asked in a whisper?

“I hear nothing,” replied Tarun.

“Nor I,” said Grodin. “What do you hear?”

“I can hear thoughts other than yours and Tarun’s. They are like hundreds of faint whispers, but none of them make any sense. They feel far away, but they are not in front of us. It’s as is if… I think they are below us!”

Suddenly a figure began to rise and form out of the sand to their left. At first it appeared to be little more than a large pile of silver dust, but as it continued to grow from the base it began to take the shape of a man. It took mere moments for the form to reach its full height, and when it did it looked to Shon like some silver statue made to look like the most generic man possible. It had no face and no clothes; nothing that would give it any sort of identity.

It stood in front of them, shifting from side to side, as if impatient. As it moved, its body rippled like a pond with a gentle breeze blowing across it. As soon as it had appeared, Tarun, Grodin, and Shon all stopped moving.

“It appears we’ve stumbled into the territory of a mirage,” whispered Grodin. “Nobody make a sudden move. Shon, is this the source of the thoughts you were just hearing?”

“I don’t think so,” said Shon. “I can’t hear any thoughts coming from this creature at all. I could try to probe a little deeper though-”

As Shon was speaking, the mirage suddenly turned its head toward him so quickly that it sent a great ripple all the way down its body. Ripples continued to flow over the creature’s body with increasing intensity until the form began to shift and change into a large, rugged looking man with an eye patch over his right eye, and a large scar following from it. He appeared to be wearing armor made from thick leather, and he carried a long curved knife. The large man then charged at Shon with a look of rage upon his face. It appeared as if he was trying to shout a war cry, but no sound escaped his lips.

It all happened so fast that Shon could barely manage to put up his arms in an attempt to shield himself from his attacker. When the mirage was only a step away from Shon, it was hit on the right side of the head with a great splash of water. Instantly the face with the eye patch began to congeal and lump together, as if it were made of clay. A moment later, all of the color washed out of its face, and its entire head fell off of the body as a large silver clump of mud. Once the head had fallen, the rest of the body fell to the ground as loose, silver sand. Shon looked in the direction the water came from and saw Tarun standing with one of his water sacks, empty and dripping.

Shon fell to his knees, shaking. “Everything happened so fast,” he said to himself. “Tarun, if you hadn’t been so quick, I would have been killed!” Shon sat there for a moment, holding himself, as Grodin walked over to him. “Good thing you were right about the water, Uncle,” he said.

“Grodin!” Tarun suddenly called over his shoulder, “I think we have attracted some attention!”

Grodin sprang next to Tarun, and looked in the same direction. Not too distant, he saw two more silvery figures moving towards them with rippling bodies. As he stared at them, he could see that they were not running, but more like sliding across the ground. He also noted in that moment that it was nearly impossible for him to take his eyes off of them. “We may have a problem,” he told Tarun. “It seems that they have a somewhat mesmerizing effect when they are in their natural forms.”

“I do not know what you mean,” said Tarun. “I don’t feel a thing, but I surely wouldn’t want to take my eyes off of creatures that dangerous. They are fast.”

They were so fast that Tarun barely had time to unstop his other water sack before the mirages arrived no more than ten steps in front of them, and began to change. The first mirage singled out Grodin and took the form of a dark-haired young mage with a long, brass staff and flowing robes. Fortunately the robes slowed the mirage down enough that Grodin had time to unstop one of his own water sacks.

The second mirage began to move toward Tarun, changing its form as it moved. Instead of growing in stature during its transformation, like the other two had, it became considerably shorter and squatter as it neared Tarun. It finished taking its new form when it was only three steps in front of him, and to Tarun’s horror, the mirage had taken the form of a small rat-like creature. It stood upright and had the stature of a small man. The top of its head barely reached Tarun’s waist, and its hands were long and bony with short, curved claws on the ends of it fingers. It wore ripped and tattered clothes, appeared to have sustained a bloody head injury, and frothed from the mouth.

As soon as the creature had taken shape in front of Tarun he screamed and recoiled in horror, dropping his water sack. It fell to the ground, instantly emptying all of its contents. The creature arched its back and opened its long, ugly mouth as if to let out a snarl or a hiss, but once again, no sound was made.

Grodin, meanwhile, had been able to quickly dispatch of the mirage in front of him. Despite the mirage’s appearance of an imposing magic user, it possessed no magical arsenal whatsoever, and its billowing robes had made it an easy target for Grodin’s first water sack. As soon as the creature had clumped and fallen, he directed his attention to Tarun and the last mirage. When he looked, he was shocked to not only see the rodent creature, but also to see Tarun frantically trying to kick and pummel the creature with brute force.

Grodin could see that Tarun’s assault was having no lasting effect on the creature. Every time Tarun would appear to break a bone of the creature’s limbs, collapse its ribcage, or crush its skull, the mirage would simply reform, and continue to inflict damage to Tarun with its teeth and claws. Fortunately, Tarun’s reach was so long, and his assault so unrelenting, that all of his cuts and scrapes were on his arms and legs only.

Grodin rushed to Tarun’s side to hit the mirage with his other water sack, but as he was about to thrust his water at the creature, he was hit unawares by Tarun’s flailing and thrashing limbs, and sent his water spilling to the ground. In that instant he caught a glimpse of Tarun’s eyes, and saw a panic and terror that he had never witnessed before.

The creature stepped back from Tarun’s attack and crouched as if to jump at his head. Tarun was about to rush at the creature again, but there was suddenly a shout of, “Stop!” and he was unable to move. Shon quickly rushed up from behind him, and hit the creature in the chest and face, emptying both water sacks at once. The creature stopped in its crouch and then fell in wet silvery clumps to the ground.

“We have to get out of here,” Grodin said to Tarun and Shon, who were both panting. “We’re out of water, and our only hope now is to make sure we are not in mirage territory anymore.” Without another word, the three of them began to run in the direction they had come from.

They stopped when they were out of breath, and Shon informed them that he could no longer hear the whispered thoughts under them. Shon gasped for air, and wished that they still had one water sack left so he could take at least a small drink after running so hard. “What was that creature?” he asked Grodin.

“I don’t know,” Grodin replied. “I’ve never seen anything like that before, but it must actually exist for the mirage to assume its form.”

“It was a vermite,” Tarun said darkly. “The most foul creature that ever lived.”

Grodin and Shon stared at Tarun for a long moment. “How do you know that?” Shon asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Tarun curtly, “I just do.”

“Are there vermites where you live?” asked Grodin. “Were you attacked by one? Is that why you fled across the desert? These could be the clues we are looking for!”

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know!” said Tarun, raising his voice. “You both fail to understand. I will not continue again in that direction.”

“Of course,” said Grodin, trying to calm him. “Today was frightening for all of us, and even if you wanted to go on, I think we should turn back simply because we have no water to defend ourselves with. It will take some time to gather preparations together for another journey like this, and you can think this over during that time.”

“No,” said Tarun, his voice firm. “I appreciate your concern for me, Grodin. I understand you push me only because you do not wish to see me missing a piece of myself, but my mind is made up.” Shon recognized the firm and commanding tone in Tarun’s voice as he continued, and it made him worry. “I was traveling in the right direction when I entered Life’s Edge,” Tarun said, “and when we return I intend to continue my journey in that direction.”

Little time had passed since sunrise, but Grodin, Tarun, and Shon stopped and removed their packs so that they could retrieve the small bundles of wrapped cloth that held the Kraken’s Embrace prepared for each of them. None of them felt very hot yet, but Grodin instructed them not to wait too long before using the seaweed, since their own bodies would be unable to cool themselves naturally.

As soon as Shon had unwrapped his Kraken’s Embrace and smelled its powerful odor, he wondered if he wouldn’t just prefer the heat. He followed his uncle’s and Tarun’s example by removing his traveling cloak, lifting up his shirt, and wrapping the long length of seaweed around his torso, just below his ribs. The first time the plant touched his skin he inhaled sharply from the unexpectedly numbing cold against his bare skin. As he continued to wrap it around his skin, breathing through his teeth as he did so, his stomach muscles contracted involuntarily, and he worried that his movements throughout the day would cause the Kraken’s Embrace to slip and fall off of him. As his torso adjusted to the cold, however, he discovered that his fears were unfounded due to the slightly sticky surface of the plant.

After wrapping the Kraken’s Embrace around his middle four times in a downward spiral, the piece came to its end, and Shon was able to lower his shirt. He reached for his traveling cloak, but then realized that it would only get in the way when he applied the other piece of seaweed to his head. The thought suddenly seemed twice as unpleasant as the seaweed around his torso. He looked around and saw his uncle wrapping the plant around his neck and forehead, like some sort of backwards scarf.

As soon as Shon placed the Kraken’s Embrace against his considerably more sensitive neck skin, he believed himself unable to bear such a sensation. Not only could he feel the cold of the plant in the crick of his neck, but its slimy, shiny outer skin clung to his skin as if it wanted to be absorbed into his body. When he first felt the unsettling sensation of the plant’s natural adhesive on his neck he began to peel it off, but that was accompanied by a slurping, sucking sound that Shon found even more unpleasant than the stickiness, so he continued to wrap.

When he was done his entire neck was covered, and then, following a trail up his right cheek, it continued to wrap around his whole head above they eyes. Shon did not know how long the unpleasant experience had taken him, but when he looked up he saw Tarun and Grodin waiting for him with their cloaks and packs already returned to their backs. Shon hurriedly donned his cloak and pack, embarrassed that he had apparently made such more of a fuss about the process than the others.

They then began walking again, and Shon was so grateful for the comfortable temperature of his body that he did not even take note of when the smell stopped bothering him.

At Midday Grodin told them that they should rest a while to eat and to give their feet a rest. Though there was nothing in sight to sit on besides sand, they were all grateful for the chance to rest from the monotony of walking. They each removed their packs and retrieved individual pouches filled with nuts, dried fruit, and some small, round cakes that Grodin had baked two days earlier.

Shon looked down at one of the water sacks on his belt as he ate, and thought about taking a drink just out of habit, though he really didn’t feel thirsty at all. Tarun saw Shon inspecting his water sack, and it prompted his memory.

“Grodin,” said Tarun as they ate, “you said before that the water sacks we carry are in case we encounter a mirage, and that you would explain that more to us later. Is now an appropriate time to discuss what you meant?”

“Thank you, Tarun,” said Grodin, “I had almost forgotten, and it would be better to tell you now rather than during an actual encounter with a mirage, which would be too late.” Grodin took another handful of food into his hand, and then shoveled it into his mouth before tying the pouch closed and placing it back in his pack.

“There’s not a lot that’s known for certain about mirages, but I’ll tell you what is known, and what opinions I’ve formed for myself. First of all, it’s generally accepted that mirages are creatures that are magical in nature, which have only been encountered here in the Endless Desert. It is also generally accepted that they can assume forms other than their natural ones, that they are dangerous when encountered, and that their only known weakness is water. Everything else I will tell you is my own opinion, and may be argued by some, but I tend to believe quite strongly that I am right.

“I’ve spoken with several people who have survived encounters with mirages, so my opinions are not unfounded. For instance, I believe that mirages are vulnerable to water because their bodies are composed of sand. Except that this sand is much finer than the stuff that we are sitting on right now, and it has a silvery appearance. Those I have spoken with say that a mirage in its natural state appears to move very fluidly, which leads me to believe that this fine sand is always moving, which is also what makes them vulnerable to water.”

“But uncle,” inquired Shon, “why would water hurt them just because they are made of sand?”

“I didn’t say it would hurt them,” corrected Grodin. “I have never heard anything to suggest that mirages can even feel pain. But they are vulnerable to it.”

“I don’t understand,” said Tarun. “What is the difference?”

“Come next to me and I will show you,” replied Grodin as he unstopped one of his water sacks. He let just a few drops of water out of the sack, and then replaced the stopper. As the water seeped into the sand on his right side, Grodin picked up some sand on his left side with his left hand. “See what happens to the sand in my hand as I open my fingers just slightly? It quickly sifts through as if my hand were hardly there.”

He then used his right hand to lift the sand with the water spilled on it. “As I sift this sand, however,” Grodin continued, “the wet part does not pass through. It has become clumpy and solid. I believe that water has the same effect on mirages.”

At that moment, a memory flashed into Shon’s mind. “Uncle Grodin,” Shon said, “the night that Tarun first arrived, when he saved me from the gamblers, someone in the crowd splashed him in the face with water.” As Shon spoke these words, Tarun shivered unconsciously. “There was so much going on at the time that I didn’t think about it then,” Shon continued, “but it really was a strange thing to do. Do you think that they did that because they thought Tarun was a mirage?”

“That sounds likely,” Grodin replied. “I’m not the only person who’s heard the idea that mirages are vulnerable to water, and the way Tarun walked out of the desert like that, beating up those men and not saying a word… Well, it’s easy to believe.”

“So if we see a mirage,” said Shon, “we should squirt it with water, or pour it on its head or something?”

“Squirting is much more advisable since it would probably kill you if you were close enough to pour water on the creature’s head,” said Grodin. “It is also important to understand why mirages are dangerous.”

“I thought that mirages were dangerous because they kill people,” Shon said sarcastically.

“Yes,” continued Grodin, ignoring the sarcasm, “but why do they kill people? There are some creatures in this world, like imps for example, who kill merely because they enjoy the pain and suffering of other. Most creatures, however, kill for only three reasons. They kill because they want to eat what they are killing, because they are trying to kill something that wants to eat them, or because they are protecting their territory from intruders. For a couple of reasons, I believe that mirages attack only out of a territorial instinct.”

“What reasons?” Tarun asked.

“Everyone I have ever spoken with who has survived a mirage attack has said that the bodies of the slain were never eaten, nor was there any attempt to eat them. Truth be told, we don’t know what they eat.”

“Then its possible they could just eat the pain of their victims, isn’t it?” Shon asked. “Or even eat their souls as they leave their bodies?”

“Excellent question!” Grodin said with a smile and surprised expression. “There are some magical creatures who seem to feed off of certain emotions, the way that spectres and phantoms feed off of fear for example. However there are two other observations I have gathered that lead me to believe that this is not the case.”

“Please continue then,” said Tarun.

“As I said before,” said Grodin, “mirages are able to change their shape and appearance when they encounter other beings. I believe that they can only assume the form of things they have actually seen. They have no imagination to create a unique appearance. I also believe that somehow they are able to choose from things they have seen, in order to choose the form that will be the most frightening to the intruder. If they were trying to feed off of the beings they encounter, it would make much more sense to first assume a form that would seem attractive or welcoming.”

“Unless,” interjected Shon, “they are like spectres or phantoms, and they feed off of fear.”

“Yes,” continued Grodin, “and that leads me to my last observation. This observation is backed by the most evidence. Every time a mirage has attacked a group of intruders, it always leaves some of them alive. It is almost as if it wants to leave witnesses to warn others to stay away. If they were feeding off fear, why not kill everyone? Why allow any prey to return to warn future prey to stay away?”

“So you are telling us,” said Tarun, “that if we stay out of a mirage’s territory, we should be safe.”

“That is my hope,” said Grodin. “I would much rather avoid these creatures than attempt to splash water at them. For all of my information gathering, I have never experienced one firsthand. I’ve spent considerable time during the last several days going over all of the known locations of mirage confrontations, and I’m confident we will avoid all known mirage territory. I just worry about the territory we aren’t aware of.”

When Grodin finished speaking the three of them sat in silence for a while, pondering what had been said. After the moment of reflection had passed, Grodin looked up at the position of the sun, and exclaimed, “Well, we’d better continue on. We took a much longer rest than I anticipated!” Tarun and Shon tied closed their food bags, returned them to their packs, and the three of them prepared to continue their walk until sunset.

That night, after they had eaten their evening meal, they laid out their pieces of Kraken’s Embrace across long strips of cloth so they could release their heat into the cold night air. After that they untied their rolled up sleeping bags from the top of their packs, and laid them down with the thickest side against the desert sand. Because of Tarun’s unusual height, Grodin had commissioned the town tailor to add an extension to his sleeping bag. The outside of the bags were made from some sort of tanned hide that Shon did not recognize, and the inside was lined with wool. They would provide all the protection from the cold desert air that Tarun, Shon, and Grodin would need.

Once they had all laid themselves down into their sleeping bags, Shon became aware that the sun had only recently gone down and, despite his exhaustion from the day, he was not yet sleepy. “Uncle Grodin,” Shon ventured, “may I ask you a question?”

“You may,” came Grodin’s reply from the growing darkness.

“When we spoke of mirages earlier today,” Shon said, “it seemed that you knew so much about mirages and other magical creatures. Yesterday you spoke of magical plants as if you knew them as intimately as the roses and herbs growing in your greenhouse. You know of my desire to develop my magical talents and become a real wizard, but you have always acted ignorant of anything magical in nature. Why have you not taught me everything you know?”

Grodin let out a great sigh. “Nephew,” Grodin began, “there will come a day, and I believe it will be closer than it is distant, that I can reveal to you why there are so many questions of yours that I can’t answer the way you would like. When that day comes, I hope you will remember your questions, for they are questions borne of your wonderful intellect.”

Shon lay still and silent. His uncle had never admitted to deliberately avoiding Shon’s answers before, and he did not want an interruption from him to keep his uncle from revealing more. He knew that his uncle was deep in thought, because he could feel Grodin’s thoughts buzzing rapidly at the edge of his mind. He was tempted for a moment to try to focus on listening to his uncle’s thoughts, but Grodin did not approve of eavesdropping, magical or not, and Shon knew he could not live with the shame if he was found out.

At length, his silence paid off, but not in the way Shon expected. In the darkness he heard Grodin turn in his sleeping bag towards Tarun and said, “It seems my nephew has fallen asleep. Since I can’t answer his questions about magic, are there any questions I can answer for you, my boy?”

Shon was caught unawares by the instant flood of anger, excitement, and disappointment that flooded his mind. On the one hand, all he had to do was keep still and quiet, and he would be able to hear his uncle answer Tarun’s questions about magic, which he so longed to learn about. But on the other hand, why was Grodin willing to answer Tarun’s questions and not his? They were family after all!

For a moment, Shon’s indignation grew so intense that he almost arose to rebuke his uncle. But right before he did, he heard Grodin cough and clear his throat in a way that gave him pause. Shon decided instead to remain still and silent.

“I wouldn’t even know what to ask,” replied Tarun after some time, “Though I would like to learn as much as I can. Perhaps you would be willing to tell me the answer to Shon’s earlier question about why you have not taught him anything about magic before. It seems you know much more than he suspected.”

“That is a bit of an understatement, Tarun,” said Grodin. Shon could hear his uncle turn to lie on his back and look up at the stars. “No, I don’t think this is the right time for me to answer that question, even to you.” After he said this, Grodin lay silent for a while.

At length, Grodin let out a long breath and said, “I’ll tell you what, my boy. Since I cannot answer the question Shon asked, let me tell you of something else that will be important for you to learn if you really wish to understand this world of ours. Pay attention to my words, because I doubt you will learn this from anyone else. I will tell you of the current state of magic in our world.” At these last words, Shon could feel his heart begin pounding in his chest.

“Current state?” asked Tarun. “Is magic different now than it used to be?”

“Oh yes,” replied Grodin, “magic is constantly changing, and can no more be tamed or set still than a mighty river or rolling clouds. When this world began, magic was everywhere. It dwelled in every plant, animal, lake, and stone. These were times when the world was wild with magic. Unicorns ran in herds, flocks of phoenix would fill the sky, and every flower, bush, and tree would house some sort of fairy or nymph. But so much magic also made the world an unpredictable and chaotic place. This time is called the First Era, before the First Immortals came.

“There were hundreds of races in that time, and each race had two Immortals, a male and female who could not die, and they were the progenitors of each race. Each of these races tried to deal with the wild magic in different ways, under the direction of their Immortals.”

“Where did the Immortals come from?” asked Tarun. “And how did the First Era begin if there was nothing before that? Are we now living in the Second Era?”

“Let me answer your last question first,” replied Grodin. “The era we now live in is actually the Fourth Era. Though I’m afraid your other questions are much more difficult. I wish I could answer you, but the truth is nobody knows the answers to those questions. The First Era was thousands of years ago. Not even the oldest and mightiest trees were even acorns at that time. I’ve heard some pretty farfetched ideas that try to explain the origins of the First Era or the First Immortals, but nothing I’ve ever taken seriously. It is fairly well recorded what the First Immortals taught their children about magic though, and that is more pertinent to our discussion tonight.

“The elven Immortals, for example, taught their race to embrace the magic, and to live with the consequences of a force that could create destruction and chaos in an instant. The dwarven Immortals taught the dwarves to flee the magic by digging themselves homes in caves and mountains. The First Immortals of our race did not want teach their children to flee the magic, nor did they want them to live their lives in the uncertainty and unpredictability that the magic brought. Their answer was to introduce wizardry to their children.

“Just as today, wizards, sorcerers, witches, and other magic users were able to use the energies of the magic around them to do wonders far beyond their natural abilities. The people saw them as the way to control and tame the magically wild world around them, and wizards became revered by common man. The practice of wizardry began to spread to the other races of the world, and only First Immortals could keep their children under control and prevent them from pushing the boundaries of their magic.”

“So the Immortals were protectors and peacekeepers of the world?” asked Tarun.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” replied Grodin. “The First Immortals were teachers and parents of their races, but it’s said that they were cold and distant from their children. They had little care for the lives and conflicts of the world, but they were jealous beings and did not look kindly on anyone who tried to surpass their talents or teachings, so they made sure their rules were obeyed. All of that changed when they were overthrown by Lord Caster and the Second Immortals.”

Shon could contain his excitement no longer, and he reached out to Tarun with his mind. He’s talking about the Immortalium! The story of the rise of Lord Caster and his Immortals. Ask him to tell you more about that!

As soon as he had sent his thoughts to Tarun, he regretted it. Tarun was always so honest, would he give Shon away and tell Grodin that he was secretly awake? But when Tarun spoke his voice was just as even as before. “Can you tell me more about the Immortalium, Grodin? I’d like to hear more about Lord Caster.”

“The Immortalium?” said Grodin, and he coughed and cleared his throat in the same way as before. “Well if you’re familiar with that word then you have probably already heard the story. In any case, it is a very long story, and not one I plan to tell tonight.” In the darkness Shon felt his face grow red and hot, though the night was turning chilly. He knew he had risked too much in his excitement, and decided to keep his thoughts to himself for the remainder of Grodin’s lesson.

“Suffice it to say,” continued Grodin, “that when the First Immortals were overthrown it freed their children from the limitations that had been placed on them. As the power of wizardry grew, so did the pride of the wizards. And that pride did not go without consequences.

“Many wizards began to accumulate large kingdoms of men and other races, and with those kingdoms came large armies. Some of these kingdoms were ruled in justice and kindness, and their ruling wizards used their magical abilities to enhance the lives of their people, but most often the wizards regarded their subjects as fodder for their own personal ambitions.

“Just as they were amassing great power among men, the wizards continued to delve deeper into strengthening their magical powers as well. The wizards discovered that the magical energies that coursed through them also sustained their bodies, and gave them lifespan far longer than common mortal man, though they could not truly live forever like the Immortals. This elongated lifespan drove some mad. They found that instead of just using the magic that permeated around them, they could enhance their powers by taking magical energies from many creatures, plants, and other receptacles of magic.

“That is when the wars began. As the wizards began hunting magical creatures for their energies, the creatures fought back. There were several species of intelligent creatures who participated in the wars, but it was the dragons, in their fury and might, who lead the fight. At the same time, the kingdoms set up by wizards and other kings had grown so large and powerful that they began to hunger for expansion and conquering, so they began to war with each other as well.

“This was a time of tremendous conflict. There were dark malicious lords, terrifying beasts, armies so large they defied number, and heroes so noble, brave, and mighty that they became legend. All of that life and death, sorrow and triumph; it all served to increase the magical energies of the world. Magic is not evil, mind you, but it does thrive on conflict and opposition. Out of the extreme necessity for foe to progress beyond foe, it also became the era that would see the greatest advancement in magic, knowledge, and science. It is tragic to me that such progress could only come at such great cost.”

“But who won the war?” asked Tarun.

“The great wars had no winner,” replied Grodin solemnly. “The wars lasted almost a thousand years before there was any sort of truce. Nearly all of the most powerful wizards were killed, the greatest and fiercest creatures were slain, and the kingdoms had all laid siege to each other until only villages and towns remained. The majority of the magical creatures followed the remaining dragons north, to what we now call Dragon Country. The race of man did not resist when the magical creatures left, and with so much of the destructive and chaotic energies gone with them, man began to live in peace and predictability.”

“That sounds like a happy ending,” said Tarun.

“Yes,” said Grodin, “that is the lie that most of the world tells itself as well.”

“I don’t understand,” said Tarun. “How could all of the magical energies have left to this Dragon Country you mentioned? Aren’t we using magical plants on our journey right now? Shon used magic to speak to my mind when I first arrived, and aren’t there still wizards, sorcerers, and other magic users among men now?”

“Yes,” said Grodin, “there is still magic in our world. I did not mean to suggest that the magic had all gone. Indeed I am not sure our world could survive without magic, but the strength, power, and passion with which magic once permeated this world has not been felt in hundreds of years.”

“There’s something else I still don’t understand,” said Tarun. “Why did you say that the world believes a lie? Is it not good that dragons and other magical beasts live apart from man, and that man now lives in peace?”

Grodin let out a heavy sigh. “You ask a deep question,” he said to Tarun. “I will answer it as best as I can. Do you remember that I told you that magic couldn’t be tamed or stand still? This period of time is the era that has come closest to taming the magical energies around us. There are schools of wizardry that teach hundreds pupils at once to do nothing more than repeat the spells and enchantments invented by greater wizards of the past. They do not invent, create, or develop; only rehearse. The effectiveness of their magic grows weaker with every generation.

“All animals being domesticated must either retain their wild nature, or become something different from what they were. It is unclear whether magic will continue to tame and diminish itself, or if it will yet show the world how wild it can be. The borders to Dragon Country are not held as fast as they were when the wars were first over. Men travel north to seek more potent magic, and dragons and other creatures venture south for prey that is helpless to their might and magic. It is likely that there will yet be another war fought between those who would tame magic, and those who would see it remain wild. I only hope that if such a war does begin, that it will cause the return of heroes of legend who provided so much hope in the old wars.”

“You said that you doubted I could learn all of this from anyone else” said Tarun. “Why? The way you speak of these things, they sound like well-known history and common knowledge.”

“They should be,” replied Grodin, with a hint of a growl in his voice. He could picture his uncle making the same disapproving face he made whenever Shon said or did something foolish. “But most are either ignorant to the history of magic in our world, or they are in denial as to the current state of magic. Many visitors of Life’s Edge, for example, are wizards and mages traveled there to seek to discover ways to cast spells or other forms of sorcery in a place that is the more barren of life and magical energy than any other place known. All attempts have failed, however, and most abandon their attempts not long after arriving. Idiots.”

Shon was so surprised to hear his uncle call anyone and idiot that he began to laugh, and snorted in an attempt to stifle that laugh. “Ah,” said Grodin, clearing his throat one last time, “well, I think we’ve all talked enough for tonight. We’d better get some rest for another long day tomorrow.” And, having said that, he laid down, pulled the top of his sleeping bag over his head, and remained thus covered until morning.

Shon looked down at the three dried Camel Truffles in his uncle’s hand with trepidation. “You mean, you were the one who dried and prepared them?” he asked. “No offense, Uncle Grodin, I’m not questioning your skills as a gardener, but those are magical plants!”

Grodin chuckled. “Well technically the Camel Truffle is a fungus, not a plant, but I understand your concern. If it’s any comfort, I’ll eat mine first and you can see if I die.” When Shon’s expression only became more worried, Grodin began to laugh. “Oh, stop worrying, nephew!” he said. “Maybe you can hear my thoughts so you’ll finally believe me that I know what I’m doing far more often than you believe.”

As Shon listened to the thoughts of his uncle he really could feel the confidence that Grodin felt, and it put him a little more at ease. As he did, however, he could feel other, much less optimistic thoughts, coming from right next to him. “Are you alright, Tarun?” Shon asked. “You’ve been awfully quiet for a while now.”

Tarun stared intensely at the mushrooms in Grodin’s hand. “I just don’t understand why all of this is necessary,” he replied. “You are both willing to risk your lives for answers that I don’t even care about.”

Grodin then took Tarun by the shoulders so that he was looking straight into his eyes. “I’m not blind to your desires, Tarun,” Grodin said with a calm, serious tone. “You say that you don’t care where you come from, but I believe it is more than that. I believe that you are quite hesitant to find these answers. I’m sure that you had your reasons for leaving in such a desperate state.

“But I want you to listen to me, Tarun.” Grodin said, his tone becoming firmer, “You will never be able to be whole as a man until you learn who you really are.”

Tarun lowered his head and took a deep breath. “Alright,” he said. “I will do it Uncle Grodin. When will we leave?”

“We leave tomorrow right before sunrise,” said Grodin with a smile. “Now, let’s all go in to the house. It’s hot out here, and I need to show you what to pack.”

As they left the small outdoor garden, Shon marveled at how perfectly his uncle had positioned it to remain out of view. Not even he had noticed it before, and how long had he lived with Grodin? It would not be the last time that he would be humbled by underestimating his uncle’s cleverness.

The inside of the house was already growing warm, but being outside of the desert sun was a great relief to Shon as they stepped inside. Upon each of the three wool cots on which they slept each night sat a large pack with several pockets and flaps. The packs appeared to have some sort of frame to help the leather skin keep its shape. Around the cots and packs there were several loose items, most of which Shon recognized, but some he did not. As he further studied the quantity of items scattered across the floor, it became apparent that they would not be able to fit everything in the packs.

“All right,” said Grodin, “I’ve collected just about everything we will need for this expedition, but you two have the job of packing it all into these packs while I take care of a few more arrangements. I can see that look on your face, Shon, but don’t worry. These packs will hold a lot more than you think.”

He lifted up the pack on Tarun’s cot and looked at it. “I hope you don’t mind, Tarun, but I’m giving you the largest pack. I don’t think it should get any heavier than Shon, so you shouldn’t have any trouble at all,” Grodin said with a chuckle.

“That will be fine,” Tarun replied with a somber, defeated tone. Shon noticed for the first time that his friend was standing in the corner with his arms folded and his eyes fixed on the floor. After spending so much time with Tarun, and experiencing his usual cheerful, optimistic self, it worried Shon to see him so downcast.

Grodin made eye contact with Shon and thought, He will be fine, just give him some time. He knew, of course, that Shon would hear his thoughts when they were directed so intensely at him. Tarun then looked up at them, and Grodin broke his eye contact with Shon and cleared his throat while walking to a rack with some heavy traveling cloaks hanging from it.

He threw a hooded cloak to each of them and said, “We’ll be wearing these as well, so if there is anything you would like to have more available than the pack, you may use the pockets of the cloaks.”

“Uncle,” Shon began in a more diplomatic tone than usual, “it’s not that I don’t trust your judgment, but I’m becoming increasingly worried about the problem of heat on our journey. These cloaks would be highly uncomfortable to wear under normal circumstances, but if we will be unable to sweat, we could very likely lose our lives.”

“Of course,” said Grodin with a nod. “I said I would explain that later, and I suppose you’ve been patient. Wait here, and I will explain.” Grodin then walked out the door, retrieving his keys to the greenhouse as he walked.

Shon sat quietly in the house with Tarun sitting as silently as a potted plant. “I wonder what crazy idea he has for us this time?” Shon said weakly. Tarun just continued to look at the floor, and Shon remained quiet until his uncle returned.

When Grodin entered through the door again he hunched over from carrying a large, wooden bucket with a tight-fitting lid and sloshing contents. Grodin lowered the bucket to the floor with a grunt, and then removed the lid. A powerful scent of salt and brine instantly filled the room. Shon was so surprised by the sudden smell that he gasped and coughed, but as he looked over at Tarun, he saw no reaction or change in expression at all.

Grodin reached a hand into the bucket and pulled out what looked to Shon like black, slimy pieces of flat rope. As soon as they were lifted out of the water the smell in the room grew considerably stronger, though the air in the room also became noticeably cooler. “This,” said Grodin without breathing through his nose, “is a type of deep water seaweed called Kraken’s Embrace. It grows very deep under the surface of the ocean near underwater volcanoes. Its location has made it a necessity to absorb and release heat extremely well, and as you have probably guessed it has magical properties as well.”

“I’ve had this Kraken’s Embrace lying in cold salt water for over sixty days now, and as long as we spread them out each night to release their heat, we should be able to wrap them around our heads and bellies and stay quite cool. Though I must admit I had forgotten how powerful their odor could be.” Grodin made a face as he lowered the seaweed back down in the bucket and replaced the lid.

“You know,” said Shon with a pinched nose, looking down at the seaweed, “for a simple gardener that sells flowers and herbs to everyone else in town, you seem to know a lot more about magical plants than you’ve ever let on before.”

“A man has to have a hobby, nephew. Besides,” Grodin said with a wink, “I don’t believe I ever claimed to be ‘simple.’ Now you boys get to work packing this stuff up.”

Grodin looked at Tarun with a stern gaze. “I expect you to do your fair share, Tarun, even if you’re not excited about this trip.” Tarun looked up at Grodin, and then began furiously loading up his pack. Grodin took in a deep breath and let out a sigh. In a gentler tone he said, “We won’t go all the way back if there is any danger,” said Grodin. “We just need to go far enough to get some clues for you. Will that be agreeable, Tarun?”

Tarun stopped packing for a moment and looked up at Grodin with a calmer expression on his face. “Yes,” he said. “Thank you Uncle Grodin.” And then he went back to packing.

“Alright boys,” Grodin then said, addressing both of them, “you keep at it, and I want you to get some sleep at sundown whether I’ve returned by then or not. Remember, tomorrow we will be rising before the sun does.” Grodin then turned and walked out the door.

The cold morning air stung Shon’s cheeks as he, Tarun, and Grodin walked briskly to the well in the center of town. Grodin carried an extra bucket, which he sat down next to the well once they had reached it. He then retrieved from his cloak the three dried black Camel Truffles, and handed one to each of them.

“Remember,” Grodin said quietly, “it’s important that we do this one at a time. Things could go very wrong if we all suffer the same thirst at the same time. Now let’s draw up the first two buckets of water.”

They used a crank to lower the bucket of the well, waited a moment while it filled, and then raised it up. After emptying its contents into the extra bucket that Grodin brought, they repeated the process so that they had two full buckets of water at the ready. Grodin then raised his hand holding the dried Camel Truffle to his lips. “Get ready,” he said.

Grodin popped the small mushroom into his mouth, chewing three times with a bitter look on his face before he swallowed. At once he bent over to the extra bucket full of water, and began to empty its contents into his mouth with great gulps, interspersed with large gasps for air. As soon as he had finished the bucket, Tarun emptied the well’s bucket into Grodin’s so that he could then lower it down to the well while Grodin continued to drink from his own.

The process continued as Grodin satisfied his desperate thirst. Tarun was quick enough at lowering and raising the well bucket that Grodin never had to wait to have his own bucket refilled. Grodin was drinking his eighth bucket of water, when he lowered the bucket from his lips. Gasping and panting, he looked at Tarun and Shon, and said, “That should be enough. I’m satisfied.” Still panting, he sat himself down on the ground. “Just give me a moment,” he said, “and then it will be Tarun’s turn.”

Once he had recovered himself they filled the two buckets and prepared to begin the process again with Tarun. Once Tarun had swallowed his Camel Truffle he began drinking in earnest. Grodin and Shon were surprised by how quickly Tarun could guzzle the water, and he needed to take far fewer breaths between gulps. It required a combined effort between the two of them just to keep up with Tarun’s thirst. When he had finished he had consumed twelve full buckets of water, leaving all three of them momentarily exhausted.

Soon enough they had recovered, and prepared the buckets of water for Shon’s turn. He had listened to the thoughts of his uncle and friend before and after they had eaten their Camel Truffles, and it worried him how all thoughts other than satiating thirst had fled from their minds as soon as the mushrooms had been consumed. He looked at the shriveled, rubbery black clump in his hand nervously. He then decided that if he thought about it anymore, he might not have the nerve, so he popped it into his mouth and began chewing.

The taste of the mushroom was not terrible, but the texture was tough and made a squeaking sound when he chewed down on it. He chewed it five times, but no matter how much saliva his mouth produced, it was still dry and the prospect of swallowing was unpleasant. Finally he forced himself to swallow the fungus, and he instantly understood why the others had reacted so dramatically.

As the Camel Truffle worked its way down his throat, Shon could feel his mouth and throat go as dry as if he were about to die of thirst. He was grateful that his uncle was standing next to him with the bucket of water, which he immediately raised to his mouth. The cold, wet water felt incredibly refreshing in his parched mouth and throat, and he drank deeply.

After five gulps of water, Shon became aware that he would have to breathe. As soon as he had taken his mouth away from the water and inhaled, his mouth and throat burned for the water to be returned. He began gulping at the water again as soon as his lungs would let him, and continued to gulp until the bucket was drained. When it came time to refill the bucket, Shon knew that it took only moments for his uncle to pour the water from one bucket to the other, but his thirst made it feel so long and drawn out that Shon became annoyed that he was not allowed to just drink from the other bucket.

Shon continued the process with much more desperation, though with considerably less speed, than Grodin and Tarun had shown. At one point, Shon tipped his bucket back too far, and the water began to dribble down his chin and neck. Grodin had to force the bucket back down before Shon tipped it so far that it would have sent water splashing up his nose.

Finally, after he had drained six and a half buckets of water, Shon noticed that the burning thirst in his mouth and throat were gone, and his stomach felt very full. As he dropped the bucket, Shon became aware that his legs were too weak to support his weight, and he dropped to his hands and knees. “Let’s not do that again,” he said panting, while looking at the ground beneath him. “I don’t think I want to look at another bucket of water again for days!”

“We’re not quite finished here,” said Grodin as he helped Shon to his feet. “We still need to fill these before we go.” Grodin handed Shon and Tarun each two large water sacks, and gestured for them to fill them as he was filling his.

“I don’t understand,” said Tarun. “If we are bringing water, than why bother with the Camel Truffles?”

“These aren’t for drinking,” explained Grodin. “We have them in case we encounter a mirage. I’ll explain that more to you later, but for now let’s just fill these up so we can get on our way.”

The three of them quickly filled the water sacks, stopped them up, and then attached one to each side of their belts at the hip, as Grodin instructed them. Shon was grateful that both water sacks he was carrying were the same size so that his balance would not be thrown off. After that they all began to walk in the direction from which Tarun had originally entered Life’s Edge.

Shon thought of how they might become the first explorers to ever discover anything in the Endless Desert, or even find the other side completely, and he considered it strange that such an important expedition should begin with no farewell from anyone. The only witnesses to their departure that early morning were the stars themselves. When they reached the border of the town there was no shout of “Hoorah” or “Safe journey, brave ones!” The only audible signal that they had passed the invisible line that was never crossed by the people of Life’s Edge was a deep sigh that escaped Shon’s lips.

The only time that Shon ever looked back that day was when he felt the warm rays of the sun against his back. He then looked back to see the rising sun, and take another glimpse at the now-distant town of Life’s Edge.

Shon had rehearsed how he would explain Tarun to his uncle, but the actual account of their meeting and subsequent activities took much longer than he expected because Grodin would ask questions along the way that Shon had not anticipated.

The longest of these tangents was at the beginning of the story when Shon explained that Tarun saved his life, Grodin wanted to know why Shon’s life was in danger in the first place. This led to Shon confessing to his uncle about the gamblers he had tried to cheat against with his magical mental abilities, followed by a lecture from Grodin about the importance of earning one’s money through honest, hard work.

Tarun sat quietly, most of the time, content to let Shon tell his story, except when Grodin asked questions directly to him. Tarun would answer those questions as plainly and honestly as he could, which seemed to please Grodin a great deal. As the account continued, Grodin interjected with more and more questions directed at Tarun.

At one point in the tale Grodin looked out the window at the low sun, and stood up, telling Tarun and Shon that he needed to finish up some things in the greenhouse before dark, and then they could continue. The two of them waited inside until they could see the stars begin to appear out the window, and Shon had to light a couple of candles inside. Shortly after the candles were lit, Grodin entered the house, urging them to continue their account.

By the time Shon had finished, the shorter of the two candles that Shon lit had melted itself into a puddle, and the longer of the two was near its end. Grodin sat in his chair for a few moments, staring into the candle flame and stroking his beard with a thoughtful expression. At length he said, “Thank you, both of you. I had heard much of this already through rumor, but other parts I hadn’t heard. In any case, I’m glad to finally hear it directly from the two of you.” He then turned and looked right into Tarun’s eyes. “So, you really have no idea who you are or where you come from, do you?” he asked.

Then, without waiting for an answer from Tarun, he said, “Well, I think you boys might need some help to solve this mystery. Hmm… I might have some ideas of how to proceed. Give me some time to think about it, and I’m sure I can figure something out. In the meantime, I think Tarun ought to come live with us, Shon. It will be a little cramped, but I don’t think any of us will spend much time here except to sleep anyhow. In any case, Tarun has stayed in the healer’s hut much longer than necessary, and that bed ought to be made available in case there is someone who really needs it.”

Grodin stood up, looking at Tarun and Shon with narrow eyes. “Really, boys,” he said, “Tam is an excellent healer, and she has a good heart, but I think you might have taken advantage a bit. Oh well, it doesn’t matter now. Just go tell Tam why Tarun won’t be returning tonight; she’s a worrier. I’ll have everything in shape here by the time you two get back.”

Shon exited the house, but as he left, Tarun stopped in the doorway and turned to Grodin. “Excuse me, Master Grodin,” Tarun began.

“Just Grodin, Tarun. Or Uncle Grodin, if you prefer,” interrupted Grodin.

“Uncle Grodin then,” continued Tarun, “I thank you for your concern, but I am not interested in where I come from.”

“Hmm,” said Grodin with curiosity, “Interesting.” Then waving Tarun away, he said, “Nevertheless, you will stay here until you choose to live somewhere else.”

Shon had once explained to Tarun how the main export of Life’s Edge was the fine glasswork created there. The incredibly fine sand contained virtually no impurities, so it was ideal for creating glass. “Besides,” Shon had said, “it’s pretty much limitless here so the raw materials cost practically nothing.”

Shon had further explained that Life’s Edge had been founded over a century earlier by a wealthy king who loved delicate glasswork, and had been willing to pay workers to dig the exceedingly deep wells necessary to make life possible in the town. The king died long ago and his kingdom fell apart as well, but the glasswork in Life’s Edge was still highly valued, so the town lived on.

Despite knowing the economic importance of glass in Life’s Edge, Shon generally avoided contact with many of the glassworkers there. He did not like living in the desert, and he reasoned that if it weren’t for the glassmakers, none of them would be living in Life’s Edge at all. Tarun however, did not share Shon’s irrational dislike for glassworkers, and so Shon found that his friend did not avoid them as much as he would have liked.

Shon sat next to Kryst, one of the more accomplished glassmakers in the town, with great beads of sweat accumulating on his forehead. Tarun stood before them wearing a thick leather apron and gloves, using metal tongs to extract a sphere of glass from inside the sweltering furnace.

“That’s quite impressive, young man!” exclaimed Kryst, “It took me over a year as an apprentice to learn to get my glass to turn out so round, and you’ve been at this for just a few months!” He nudged Shon and asked, “Are you sure he was not a glassmaker before he lost his memory?”

“I’m not sure,” said Shon with thinly veiled annoyance, “because we have no idea what he knew before he lost his memory. Though I doubt that’s the reason for how quickly he learned the glassmaking from you. He just seems to learn things really quickly.”

Kryst ignored Shon’s displeasure and laughed, “Well I certainly wished he had been here when I was commissioned to prepare the glass for your uncle’s greenhouse. Perhaps I would not have had so many panes returned to me until they met with Grodin’s approval.” Turning back to Tarun, and raising his voice so that he could be heard over the roaring flames, he asked, “And will you be coming back tomorrow?”

Tarun extracted the last of the glass, closed the door to the furnace, and then turned back to the glassmaker, wiping large beads of sweat from his forehead. “As long as you have more to teach me, Master Kryst,” Tarun said, “I will continue to be here every morning until Midday. I will not stay all day any longer, however, as I have agreed with Master Ban that I would begin learning from him after Midday starting tomorrow.”

“Ban?” Kryst said in horror, “That crazy old alchemist? You’ll be working with some mighty unstable substances, my boy. I would hate to see hands as talented as yours blown off!” Kryst looked at the admirable specimens of Tarun’s work that sat on a shelf behind him. “Well,” he sighed, “at least come back tomorrow, and I’ll show you a few techniques for coloring the glass. Good day, boys.”

As they turned the corner from the shop, they spied Grodin running up the street to meet them. “Hello Shon! Hello Tarun!” he shouted.

“Hello, Uncle Grodin,” said Shon as he drew closer, “what are you doing here?”

“I’ve just been to see Ban,” said Grodin, taking in some deep breaths as he stopped in front of them. “I let him know that Tarun would not be able to meet with him tomorrow, or any other day until further notice, and I want you boys to go back to Kryst, and tell him the same.”

“I don’t understand,” said Tarun, “why would you do that?”

“I’ll explain everything when you meet me back at the greenhouse,” panted Grodin. “I’ve got some things to get in order, so I have to go. Don’t dawdle, boys. We’ve got some packing to do.”

Kryst seemed quite disappointed when Tarun informed him that he would not be returning, but he was also visibly relieved when Tarun told him that he would not be learning from Ban for the present time either. Before they left, Kryst gestured to the shelf holding the items that Tarun had made, telling him to take what he wanted to keep, but that he would be willing to sell what he could and melt down the rest. The only piece that interested Tarun was a palm-sized piece of solid rounded glass that was flat on one side. Tarun had found it useful for magnifying surfaces when the flat side was laid down on them. After taking the piece of magnifying glass, Tarun bowed to Kryst and left the shop.

When they returned to the street, Tarun immediately began to walk briskly in the direction of the greenhouse. Shon worked up a light sweat trying to keep up with him, but was careful to keep enough distance between himself and Tarun that he could avoid being carried, as Tarun tended to do to him when in a hurry.

They arrived outside the greenhouse a short time later, and rang the brass bell. Instead of waiting for Grodin to emerge from the greenhouse or front door of the house, they were surprised to hear his voice yell to them from outside, “I’m around the back of the greenhouse, boys! Come on back!”

As they turned the corner to the back of the large greenhouse, Shon was shocked to see his uncle tending a little garden in the desert sand that he never even knew existed. “What is this?” Shon asked. “I thought nothing could grow in this sand. That’s why you had to import all of the soil in your greenhouse.”

“Good memory,” said Grodin, “but what I actually said was that nothing native could live and grow in this desert. These plants in front of you are quite exotic, which is why they are behind the greenhouse, and out of view from any curious neighbors.”

Tarun looked along the small garden and saw a group of a dozen or more bright green mushrooms with large, round heads, a neat row of six black thistles with deep purple blooms at the top, and then a single round plant that appeared to have at least a thousand needles protruding from every angle. “What are they?” he asked.

“Let me begin,” said Grodin, “by telling you not to touch any of them. The Midnight Thistles in the middle are deadly for starters, and the Viper Cactus hurts enough that you’ll wish it were deadly.”

“What about the mushrooms?” asked Shon.

“Well, they certainly can kill you if used incorrectly,” answered Grodin, “but mostly I don’t want you touching them because they’re so valuable. They’re called Camel Truffles, and they are the reason I told you two to meet me here.” Grodin stooped down to one of the Camel Truffles and collected a handful of the sand next to it. “Do you know why these mushrooms are able to grow in this desert sand?” Grodin asked.

“Because they’re magic?” Shon guessed.

“That’s partially true,” Grodin said as he grunted and stood up straight, “but it doesn’t answer my question. Just because a plant contains some magic doesn’t mean that it can live anywhere. Tarun, do you have a guess?”

“You taught me that most plants get the moisture they need to live from the soil in which they live,” said Tarun, “so this plant must get its moisture from somewhere else.”

“That’s exactly right,” said Grodin. “The Camel Truffle can pull moisture from anywhere nearby, even the air, and then keeps recycling the same moisture for incredibly long periods of time. During times of drought, they can do it almost indefinitely. That’s why you could die by eating one raw; it would absorb all the moisture from you body.”

“That’s interesting,” said Shon, “but what does it have to do with us?” Shon’s usual annoyance at his uncle’s long-winded explanations was replaced with amazement that his uncle would have anything to do with a plant possessing magical properties.

“Shon,” began Grodin, “ever since the town of Life’s Edge was established, there has never been a recorded instance of anyone successfully crossing the Endless Desert. Do you know why that is?”

“Because it’s endless?” said Shon, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t be stupid,” said Grodin, “if it were really endless then our entire world would have to be desert. We call it the Endless Desert merely because no one has ever seen the end of it. There have been attempts to find the end, but they have always been abandoned when it became clear that the explorers would not have enough supplies to return home, or they continued with the hope that they would find water on the other side, and were never heard from again.”

“I didn’t really think it was actually endless,” mumbled Shon, “I just thought it was a stupid question.”

“The amount of water that you would have to carry to go that far into the desert would require a caravan that only a king could afford,” said Grodin, “and since there are no supposed riches to be made from completing the journey, no one has ever bothered to finance a group that large.”

“That brings me back to these Camel Truffles,” Grodin said. “While they are deadly to eat raw, if dried and prepared correctly they can allow a person who eats one to consume several days worth of water at once, to be used slowly. Once the Camel Truffle is eaten the person eating it will not need to urinate or sweat until the mushroom has been completely digested, which usually takes seven or eight days.”

“Wait,” interrupted Shon, “even if we do decide to eat these potentially deadly mushrooms, as it sounds like you are getting to in a very long-winded way, there is still a problem. We would all die of the heat before the end of the first day if we can’t sweat out there!”

“I’ll get to that,” said Grodin, “but I am glad to hear you thinking so rationally, Shon.” Shon visibly relaxed after the compliment. “Now even with this mushroom,” Grodin continued, “I would never have presumed that there was anything life sustaining within a distance we could cross on foot. That is until the arrival of Tarun, here.”

“What do you mean?” Tarun asked.

“Tarun,” Grodin said, “you are an incredible young man, but not even you can live indefinitely without water. Wherever you came from, you were able to make it here on foot. We are going to do the same thing, but in the opposite direction, and better prepared.”

“Speaking of prepared, how long does it take to dry and prepare one of these mushrooms?” asked Shon.

“It takes approximately two months,” Grodin responded.

“If it’s going to take so long, why did you tell us we need to start packing today?” asked Shon.

Grodin shook his head as he looked at Shon. “Nephew,” he said, “what do you think I’ve been doing since Tarun came to live with us?” He then reached into his green cloak and retrieved three shriveled, black mushrooms.

“Hurry up, Shon!” called Tarun, “You told me he didn’t like it when people are late!” Tarun ran down the road at a brisk pace, made even quicker because of his unusually long stride. Shon jogged behind, almost out of breath.

“He won’t blame you if I make us late, Tarun,” panted Shon. “My uncle knows I’m usually late anyway.” Shon then slowed his jogging to a limp walk as he tried to catch his breath.

“That may be so,” said Tarun as he turned around and walked back to where Shon was standing, “but he’s never met me, and I don’t want to make a bad impression.” Tarun smiled as he stood directly in front of his friend. “If your tired legs are the problem,” said Tarun, “I can take care of that.”

In an instant, Tarun had grabbed Shon by the right leg and shoulder, lifted him above his head, and hoisted him onto his back. Shon protested and tried to squirm out of his grip, but Tarun held on tight and started running. It wasn’t difficult. Despite Tarun’s youthful appearance, his muscles were large and solid. He learned early on that it required less effort for him to carry loads that others seemed to have difficulty with. And carrying the thin, bony body of his friend required almost no effort at all, though he usually had to apologize afterwards.

“I mean it!” Shon continued to shout, “My uncle is cranky, serious, and has little patience for fools. If he sees you carrying me around town, it’ll leave a much worse impression than being late would!” Tarun could tell that Shon expected his last comment make him pause, but he just kept running. It was true that he was usually very concerned with gaining the respect of those he met and making good impressions, but today he would finally get to meet the uncle that Shon had told him so much about, and for some inexplicable reason, he just couldn’t contain his excitement. He certainly didn’t want to keep going along at Shon’s usual slow and meandering pace.

As they passed building after building in town, members of the community would come out to see what was causing a commotion. Once Shon realized that the only thing alerting everyone was his own shouting voice, he shut his mouth and remained silent for the rest of the trip. Tarun felt a little guilty for causing his friend such embarrassment, but he was confident that Shon would forgive him as usual.

Tarun knew that during the last several weeks Shon had been doing his best to be a good friend and teach Tarun everything he needed to know to get by, and Tarun was grateful for it. With Shon’s help, Tarun had learned how to speak and read. Shon had taught him how to count, add, subtract, and tell the difference and value of the different coins used in the market. But despite his gratitude, Tarun sometimes had difficulty with Shon’s love of staying inside, sitting, and talking.

In contrast, Tarun always felt like he learned the most when he was outside, when he was performing a task, or when he was moving. Tightening his grip on Shon, Tarun increased the pace of his running. As they began to rush past the buildings around them, Tarun laughed with the enjoyment of feeling truly alive.

***

As the buildings began to rush past him, Shon began to feel sick. Even though he had lived in the town of Life’s Edge as long as he could remember, at the speed that Tarun was running, it was hard to keep track of where on the square grid of streets they were, especially with all of the rectangular adobe and sandstone buildings looking so similar.

Then the buildings began to become more spread out, and Shon knew they must be approaching the edge of the town. The buildings continued to become scarcer, until the only structure that Shon could see ahead of them was his uncle’s greenhouse, and the home they shared together.

Shon had mixed feelings about that home. He had lived with his uncle for as long as he could remember, and it bothered Shon that he couldn’t remember anything about his parents. He blamed his uncle for his obsessive curiosity about them, because whenever Shon inquired about his parents, his uncle would always respond that they were his “two favorite people in the whole world.” He had explained that Shon’s mother was his sister, and his father was his best friend, and that he “had never known two individuals with so much talent between them.” He would always finish by telling Shon, “They are the two strongest-willed people I know, and someday when they have worked out their differences, they will come back for you.”

It was his last statement that always annoyed and troubled Shon the most, for despite his continued pleas to know more about them, his uncle would not give in. It had been this reluctance to tell Shon more about his parents that had caused such tension in their home during the years since Shon’s magical abilities began to manifest themselves.

The ground became softer as they drew closer to the greenhouse and hut, because the ground was walked upon so much less this far out from town. The small dwelling where Shon and his uncle lived looked much like all of the other rectangular sandstone and adobe dwellings in the town, but the greenhouse stood out like a diamond among dull rocks. It’s long, triangular shape made of glass and metal reflected light in every direction, and cast shadows of small rainbows across the desert floor. Every pane of glass was covered with varying sizes of water droplets, making it impossible to see inside. The greenhouse was about twice as large as any other structure in Life’s Edge. Shon could hear Tarun inhale sharply as he came to a stop. Shon could sense his friend’s excitement, even without focusing his magical abilities on Tarun’s mind.

Tarun set down Shon and looked up at the sky. “We made it!” Tarun exclaimed. “It isn’t quite noon yet, so we aren’t late. Sorry if you were uncomfortable Shon.”

Shon wobbled a bit as he was placed on his feet, and then squinted as he looked up at the sky. “I don’t know who taught you how to do that,” Shon said, “because I’ve never known anyone who can tell the time so well just by looking at the sky.”

Shon looked back at his friend, with a streak of green across his vision where he had looked at the sun, and sighed. “Look, Tarun,” he said, “I have to tell you something. My uncle wouldn’t have really known if you were late because… well he didn’t really know that you were coming. He doesn’t even know you exist yet.”

The surprise on Tarun’s face was instantly recognizable. He never hid his emotions. “Why have you not told him about me?” Tarun asked. His expression was not angry or even hurt, just confused.

Shon was quiet for a while as he searched for the right words. “Like I’ve told you before, my uncle is kind of a grumpy guy. He often doesn’t approve of my choices. I was afraid that if he knew I had been spending so much of my time helping you, that he would tell me I was wasting my time, and forbid me from coming to see you everyday. I thought it would be best if I just kept you a secret, but then you began to be so insistent upon meeting him, and, well you know how impossible it is to say no when you get that tone in your voice.”

“Tone?” asked Tarun, “What do you mean?”

“I think you know what I mean,” said Shon. “I think maybe you don’t do it on purpose, but when you feel like you really need something your voice becomes… commanding. It’s like hearing a royal decree or something. You don’t sound unkind or rude, just… commanding.” Shon looked away slightly embarrassed after he finished.

Tarun thought for a moment, and then responded, “Forgive me, my friend. It wasn’t my intention to command you. May I still meet your uncle?” He added particular emphasis to the fact that it was a question.

“Of course you can, Tarun,” said Shon. “Just don’t expect him to be very welcoming. He’s not a very sociable person. I’ve only seen a small handful of people ever invited into our home, and I’ve never seen him invite anyone but me into his greenhouse. I think it’s because he’s a gardener. He would rather spend time with his plants than with other people.”

“Well then,” said Tarun with a smile on his face, “let’s continue.”

Shon walked over to a large brass bell hanging from a wooden beam outside his home, and rang it twice. “Whether he’s in the house or the greenhouse, he’ll hear the bell. He knows it’s me when I just ring it twice.” Shon let out a little chuckle, “It’s the only way to be sure he won’t just ignore us.”

They stood there waiting as the sun reached its highest point in the sky. Shon became so impatient that he was about ring the bell again, when suddenly the door to the greenhouse opened and Shon’s uncle emerged.

Even though the door was open for only a brief moment, Shon could feel and smell the moist, heavy air from inside. Shon’s uncle had long red-brown hair and beard, streaked moderately with gray, and heavily frizzed from the atmosphere in the greenhouse. As usual, he was wearing his brown tunic with tan pants, and a heavy dark green cloak with a hood that he was sure must have been uncomfortably warm in the humid greenhouse. Despite the deep lines of age on his face, the muscles on his arms were hard and strong. His hands were heavily calloused, and the lines of his palms and fingerprints seemed to be stained dark brown from so much work in the soil.

His voice was deep and calm as he spoke. “What is it, nephew?” he asked, with his eyes completely focused on Shon’s response.

Shon wavered for a moment under his uncle’s gaze. “Uh,” he said looking away from his uncle, and back to Tarun, “Tarun, this is my uncle, Grodin.” And then turning to his uncle with his eyes lowered, “Uncle Grodin, this is my friend, Tarun.”

Grodin looked at Tarun for a while, and then smiled and chuckled to himself. “So, I finally get to meet you, eh Tarun?” he said. “I’m surprised it took so long, but I’m glad.” Grodin looked over to Shon’s shocked expression. “Oh, come now Shon! I’m really not as much of a hermit as you think I am. I do have a few friends in this town, and do you really think that I wouldn’t find out about a mysterious young man going around town and trying to learn everything there is to learn in Life’s Edge? Everyone knows that wherever he goes, you follow right behind.” Grodin let out a low, booming laugh. “For someone able to hear the thoughts of others, you still have a lot to learn about how much others really understand.”

Still surprised, Shon tried to stammer out a response to his uncle. “I… I’m sorry uncle… I just thought-”

“Forget your apology, nephew,” said Grodin waving a hand, “it is unnecessary. What I do need from you is some sort of explanation.” Smiling, Grodin added, “Let’s get inside. The day grows hot, and I suspect it will prove to be somewhat of a long story.” He then put a hand on Tarun’s shoulder, gesturing him towards the front door, saying, “I’ve heard some fascinating things about you, my boy!”

Shon stood outside in stunned silence as his uncle and best friend entered the house. Events had progressed so differently than he had expected, he didn’t know exactly how to react. His moment of shock was cut short however, when his uncle’s voice issued forth out of the abode, shouting, “Shon! Hurry and get in here! Some of the plants still need to be tended, and I don’t have all day!”

Well, Shon thought, at least I know that really is Uncle Grodin.

Shon sat in the healer’s hut, looking at the sleeping face of the large, dark-skinned young man who had saved his life. At a first glance, he looked to be in his late teens or early twenties, which wasn’t much older than Shon himself. But as Shon continued looking at his face, he had the impression that the stranger must have been older.

After all, how could someone only a few years older than Shon cross the Endless Desert on foot? Who was this person who literally came out of nowhere to save his life the night before? How did he get there? Would he ever find out?

Tam, the town healer, was not optimistic for the stranger’s odds of survival. She said his sunburns and dehydration were some of the worst she’d ever seen during her time in the desert, and that was saying something. She had covered him liberally with herbs and bandages for most of the day, and afterwards she had used some of her strongest oils and aromas under his nose to wake him up, but he hadn’t even stirred.

As evening began to close, Tam had lit a candle in the hut so that Shon could stay with the young man. “You’re welcome to keep him company, dearie,” Tam said. “But I wouldn’t get too attached. If he wakes up in the next couple of days to drink and eat something, he might yet make it. But if he remains as still as he is now, I’m afraid he may end up being a mystery with no answer.”

After Tam left and the door was closed, Shon leaned forward in his chair and brought his bald head much closer to the stranger’s. Tam may have used all the tricks and tools available to her as a healer, but Shon hadn’t tried all of his tricks yet. Shon glanced at the windows of the hut to make sure that the curtains were drawn. His special abilities weren’t a secret to Tam or many of the others who lived in Life’s Edge, but Shon still preferred using them without being watched.

As he leaned his head closer to the young man on the cot, Shon closed his eyes and tried to focus his mind on the thoughts and images in the stranger’s head. At first, Shon had the sensation that he was wandering through a thick gray fog with no sense of direction or time. Suddenly the fog burned away and Shon found himself assaulted by such intense sights, sounds, and other sensations that he couldn’t make sense of them all.

Shon heard an overwhelming chorus of screams and snarls, crumbling stone and crackling fires. He saw whirlwinds of sand and dust, an unstoppable tide of teeth and claws, and in the midst of it all, he saw two great monstrous faces staring at him. He felt cuts and bruises on his arms and legs, falling rocks on his head, and choking smoke in this throat. And somewhere in the impossibly far distance, he heard a low and terrible laughter that rattled his teeth.

Just when Shon began to fear that he would be consumed by the intensity of the sensations, he saw a light begin to grow at the edge of the horizon. Unlike the warm, yellow sun, this light was bright white and gave no heat, but everywhere that the light touched, the sounds and images burned away, until there was nothing left but white and silence.

Shon suddenly sat up in his chair, startled and breathing hard, but otherwise unharmed. He was relieved to find himself safe in Tam’s hut once again, and wondered to himself how the stranger could bear to stay asleep in such a nightmare. Was that merely a dream, or actual memories from the stranger’s past? Shon shuddered at the thought.

Shon stood up to fetch some water from the corner of the room, but when he turned back to his seat, he saw that something about the stranger had changed. He couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the candlelight, but it seemed that his chest was raising higher with each breath he took. After a few moments of kneeling by his cot, Shon was sure he could hear the stranger begin grunting, and under the covers he was beginning to twitch and stir.

Shon sat back down in his chair and placed a hand on the stranger’s forehead. He tried to direct calm and peaceful thoughts to the stranger’s mind, which seemed to calm him down. As the stranger’s breaths became slower and slower, Shon realized that he might be calming him down too much, and decided to change tactics.

Shon placed the tips of his fingers on the temples of the young man’s head. He then focused his thoughts into a clear and direct message, hoping it would get through the confusion and haze. It’s about time you woke up, Shon’s mind said to the young man. How do you feel?

At first there was nothing but silence and the occasional sound of the candle flame sputtering in a large pool of wax. Then, after a long wait, Shon sensed the reply, I hurt.

Shon had to focus to keep his excitement from carrying over with his thoughts. He didn’t want to confuse the stranger or impede the conversation with a sudden burst of emotion. I’m not surprised by that, Shon said through his mind. They had to bandage you from your head down to your feet.

My feet are down? the stranger asked with puzzlement in his thoughts. They feel level with my head.

Astute observation, Shon replied. They feel that way because you are currently lying on your back. I just meant to tell you that your entire body is bandaged.

My whole body hurts, repeated the stranger. My whole body is bandaged?

Yes, that’s right, Shon replied.

Everywhere that hurts is bandaged. I don’t want my body bandaged. Then it won’t hurt, the young man reasoned.

Ah, I see the confusion, Shon interjected. Your body does not hurt because it is bandaged. It is bandaged because it is hurt.

There was a long pause before the young man responded. Then why does it hurt? he asked.

I was actually hoping that you could tell me that, replied Shon. What were you doing coming out of the Endless Desert? Nobody has ever lived to cross that desert in recorded history. I’m surprised that you actually survived it. Our healer had never seen someone with so many sun blisters and sores as you have. By all accounts you should be dead!

I don’t understand, responded the stranger.

I’m sorry, what is it you don’t understand? asked Shon.

I don’t understand, the stranger repeated.

Hmm. I have an idea that may help things, offered Shon. First, let me introduce myself. My name is Shon. I am an ethereal wizard, which means that I have magic in matters of the mind. That is why you and I are able to talk without needing to move our mouths. I can send my thoughts to your head, and also hear the thoughts from your head. What I would like to try right now is a bit more complex, however. If you can try to open up your mind, I am going to try and read your memories. Now that you’re awake, I’m hoping they’ll make more sense. Is that alright?

Memories? repeated the young man.

I know it may sound strange, but I think it will help with your confusion, Shon continued. Will you try and keep your mind as calm and open as possible?

Yes, the young man replied.

There immediately followed a sensation like an invisible butterfly fluttering around in a spacious, empty hallway. Just as quickly as it began, it was over. And then there was silence for several moments.

Where are your memories? Shon asked.

I don’t know, replied the stranger.

Who are you? Shon asked.

I am Tarun, replied the stranger.

Well that’s a good start, Shon replied. What else do you know?

I know that my body hurts all over and it is bandaged all over. I know that it doesn’t hurt because it is bandaged, but that it is bandaged because it hurts. I know that you call yourself Shon, and you are an ethereal wizard, which means that your mind can speak with my mind, and you are trying to find something called memories, but I am not helping you.

The last flood of thoughts came so suddenly, and felt so complete, that Shon knew they really were the only thoughts and facts available in Tarun’s entire mind. He really had just told Shon everything that he knew.

Actually, Shon responded, you just helped me understand a great deal, thank you. I suppose I can rule out asking you where you are from or how you crossed the Endless Desert for now. Can you open your eyes?

I will try, Tarun responded as his eyes began to flutter and blink.

There you go. Can you see me? asked Shon. Ah, you are squinting, that’s good!

My eyes hurt when they are open! Tarun shouted in his mind. Too bright!

Oh yes, that will pass, Shon reassured him, just keep squinting until it’s comfortable to open your eyes all the way. There, it’s getting better already, isn’t it? I’m right in front of you can you see me?

I see you? Is that what you are? asked Tarun.

Yes, replied Shon. This is what I am. This is what another person looks like. Well, I guess most other people have hair on their heads, but let’s stick to the basics. Wow, your mind really is empty. I don’t mean to be rude, of course, I just mean that we’ll really need to stay basic to teach you. I didn’t realize it until a moment ago, but you haven’t even been communicating with words because you don’t know any language other than your own name.

Words? asked Tarun.

Yes, replied Shon. Hmm… Usually people communicate with words instead of thought to thought like you and I have been doing. Even I usually put my thoughts to words, but since you don’t understand any words you have just been understanding the thoughts themselves. You, however, have been thinking pure thought, but my mind turned them into words because I understand better that way. Fascinating!

Bad? Good? Tarun asked, confused.

Well, it certainly is good that you have me around, Shon replied, or you wouldn’t be able to communicate with anyone until you learn some language. That makes you a very lucky individual that I found you, because I’ve never met anyone else with my magical abilities.

I’m lucky you found me, Tarun repeated.

Well, in all honesty, you found me, Shon confessed, and I’m the fortunate one for it. Do you even remember saving my life from those gamblers?

I don’t understand, replied Tarun.

No, I guess you don’t even remember that, Shon stated. Well, whether you remember it or not, I owe you my life, and I’m going to help repay you however I can. And it is apparent that you really need some help to become functional again.

You will help me understand what I don’t understand? asked Tarun.

Exactly, Shon reassured him. What is the first thing you remember?

Suddenly there blazed across Shon’s mind an image of the sun rising over the desert landscape from inside town.

Shon nodded. Ah, I remember that sunrise. That was right after you saved my life. If you hadn’t been there, I doubt I would have lived to see the dawn. 

Alright, Shon continued, we’ll start from there. Starting from yesterday’s sunrise, we’ll begin rebuilding your mind and your memories, so you can understand the world around you again, Tarun.

Yes Shon, teach me to understand! Tarun commanded.

For a moment, Shon was taken aback by the force of Tarun’s command. It was not a harsh command, nor was it a command born out of dominance or arrogance, but something in it shook Shon to the core. There was something about Tarun that had such strength and authority that Shon could not deny his request. At that moment, Shon promised himself that he would discover who Tarun really was, and where that strength came from. He knew that it would take a great deal of work and patience, but promised himself that day that he would find Tarun’s memories.

As the cold night air moved across the desert floor, carrying bits of sand along its path, it blew against something it had not touched in that part of the land for over a hundred years. If the wind had feeling, or if it cared at all about the pain, fate, or purpose of men, then it might wonder why it was brushing against the skin, hair, and eyes of a living body. Of course the wind did not care, and so it pounded along against the figure just as mercilessly as it would against the thousands of dunes that could be seen for miles when the sun was up.

As the shadowed figure continued to walk against the wind, he tried to remember the sun that had burned his body only a short time ago. He tried to remember how his skin baked and his eyes stung under the relentless beams from the great ball of fire in the sky. He tried to remember these things, but it was gone as if it had never been. All that existed now was the moon, the sand, the stars, and the cold night air.

His continual march forward defied everything that his body told him. His every muscle was spent, but still he kept them moving him onward. His mind was exhausted, and demanded sleep from eyes that he never let close. Even his lungs and heart tried to mutiny against him and give up the futile struggle to continue their never-ending duties, but they continued because he willed it so.

He had no idea what lay in any direction from him. Even if he possessed the strength to turn his head from one way to another, he would have continued to stare straight ahead because he did not care what was on either side of him. He knew only that behind him was something terrible. Something unthinkable. So instead of thinking on it, he merely continued in the direction he faced, because that was as far away as he could get from where his footsteps started.

He could not remember the day before this night, and so he could not remember if that day was preceded by a night like this one. He did not know when he began this journey, and he did not want to know. His mind would not think of the past beyond the breath that he just breathed. He walked along as if in a dream.

He did not even wake from the dream as he entered the gates of the city.

He was barely aware that his feet sank into the ground less than he expected because the ground was firm and well trod. He heard voices, saw the fires of torches out of the corners of his eyes, and felt weak hands try to hold him in place. He merely pushed past any thing or any body placed in his way, never looking at them or paying them any attention. After all, if the screams and pleads of his own body failed to stop his progression, why should the voices issuing from other bodies sway him?

He would have continued on in this way indefinitely, except that he heard a voice so clear that it could not be ignored. The voice did not enter through his ears, but straight into his mind. Help me, it pleaded. Please! Someone!

Never stopping his feet, he changed his direction to a narrow gap between two buildings that was not lit by even the moon. He felt the voice come from that direction, so he did not hesitate as he entered. He heard the sound of hurried movements and heavy breathing as he walked into the darkness. As he continued forward he bumped into something, which lashed out at him with some hard object.

After one painful blow to his chest, he seized upon the arm of the body that hit him. He pulled the arm down hard; creating a strange popping sound, and then threw the body against the nearest wall. He heard it slump down after the impact. Paying more attention now, he heard the intended blow from a second body approach, and caught the fist as it came toward him. There was a groan of pain as he tightened his grip on the hand, and it struggled to break free. He raised his other arm high above his head, and then swung it downward straight in front of him, and the groaning and struggling ceased. Only moments after he arrived, the alley was completely quiet except for one more body breathing heavily.

He immediately felt a swell of gratitude, and heard again the ringing voice as it said, Thank you, whoever you are. He heard hurried footsteps right before he was momentarily blinded by the torchlight of the men who had tried to stop him earlier that night.

In the flickering, orange light his eyes focused, and he could finally see the bodies of the two men who had attacked him. The bodies were breathing, but unmoving. He could also see a third body lying on the ground with cuts and bruises that he had not caused. It was a young, pale-skinned man, bound with cords, gagged with cloth, and as bald as the moon itself, squinting up at him.

When the men with torches saw the damaged bodies, they turned and stared at him in horror, and then began shouting at him and to each other with unintelligible words. They tried to surround him, but were also careful to stay out of his arms’ reach. Suddenly, someone came out of the crowd with a bucket, and splashed him right in the face with unbearably cold water.

The water caught him by surprise and made him cough and sputter as he pushed himself through the crowd, and back out to the open street. Stop! Don’t! said the voice, but he didn’t listen. After the endless cold night air, the cold water was too much to bear, and his invincible will wavered.

As he emerged from the crowd, he could see the golden rays of the sun rising from the distant horizon. I will make this right, said the voice. Sleep. You are exhausted, and I will not let anything bad happen to you. I owe you my life. The voice was still piercing, but it was much calmer now, and he believed it. As the sun continued to grow on the horizon, his eyes closed and he gave himself to sleep.