It did not even disturb him too much that, at the limits of his understanding of the inner nature of things to which his searching and his conventional logic had led him, there was apparently paradox – and certainly bewilderment. That was simply another challenge to be met and wrestled with joyously.

Or would have been.

But now, a darkness was tingeing his discoveries; a darkness that possibly might not allow him the luxury of a scholar’s leisurely debate; a darkness that could be growing even as he lay here and that might burst forth all too brutally out of the realms of academic consideration and into the world of ordinary men.

He swore softly and sat up. Just beyond the shoulder of the mountain he knew he would be able to see the maw of the great cave that was ostensibly the entrance to the Cadwanen – the Caves that were the home of the Order of the Cadwanol – the Order of which he was the Leader – the Order charged originally by Ethriss with opposing Sumeral and, on His destruction, with seeking the knowledge that would guard the world against His coming again.

For come again He must, Ethriss had known, though of how he had known he never spoke. Suffice it that, although Sumeral took mortal form, He was no mere man. He had come in the wake of Ethriss and the other Guardians from the Great Searing that had been the beginning of all things and, with lesser figures that had emerged with Him, had set out to destroy the world that the Guardians had created. Though His mortal body had eventually been destroyed, after a long and terrible war, there were many places within the warp and weft of the fabric that formed all things where His dark and festering spirit could find sanctuary.

And come again He had, for the Cadwanol had failed in their charge as generations of stillness and peace had taken Sumeral from the minds of men and reduced Him to little more than a myth, a tale to make children tingle. Yet some sixteen years or so ago He had again taken form in this world. Silently, His ancient fortress, Derras Ustramel, had been built again in the bleak, mist-shrouded land of Narsindal and it was as much good fortune as courage that had eventually brought Him down before, it was hoped, His corruption had spread too far out into the world. Nevertheless, much harm had been done and many had died.