Abnormalia π/Abnormalia 3.14.adf/Articles/16.pak/16.pak

Text File | 1994-01-06 | 12KB | 198 lines

TITLE:THE APPROACHING NIGHTMARE by ZULKIR MALIGOR of THE MAGIC GUILD
PALETTE:0333 0a99 0aab 097b

                           THE APPROACHING NIGHTMARE

                      By Zulkir Maligor of The Magic Guild


Night.   A  stripe of moon entered in the room, it followed the profile of a bed
diving into the sleeping face of a young man.
He opened suddenly his eyes, he screamed, he raised his sweating body.
He stared around the room and finally he understood where he was.
Another nightmare.

"Ragnar... ragnar... ragnar!", he mumbled, tired, sad, worn out.
His bed in a sea of sweat, the night was warm, the moon smiled shy in the sky.
Zulkir  Maligor  stood  up, he watched the humming trees of the forest chased by
the wind, comforted by bright joyful stars.
A calm landscape whose order battled with his own mood.  His mind was a storm of
pain, fear, panic, sadness.
The same dream was killing his patience, his brain, day after day.
A  blond,  tall,  long haired man with a enormous blade screamed savagely to him
"Ragnar  is  coming!   Ragnar  is coming!".  Zulkir Maligor understood that this
Ragnar was that same man, who used to shout in his dreams but he didn't know who
actually  this  man  was, who Ragnar was, who was chasing him in the intimacy of
his sleep.

The  Magic  Guild had just survived the Sunstone experience, since his return to
the  Crystal Cave, Zulkir Maligor had been even more melancholic and silent than
usual, a strange behaviour for a man from the Misdeeds lands of the South, where
people were considered friendly and always merry.
Zulkir  Maligor was an exception.  He conserved something of his homelands, also
in  the  physical look, but in many other aspects he was different, somehow more
similar to a man from the Northern Lands.
The  conclusion of the Sunstone quest had left strange feelings in his mind.  He
felt  like  something  had  been  lost  forever,  not  only the way to divinity,
something  deeper,  more  important,  closely related to the same history of the
world.
Zulkir  Maligor  was  sure that the Sunstone could reveal important informations
about  the  mysterious  past, it could explain many things, in its extraordinary
and totally strange shape.
In  the  Crystal  Cave,  where  for  many months he had investigated and studied
legends,  perused  old  documents,  interpreted  dead  languages,  where  he had
discovered  where  actually the Sunstone could be placed, in the Crystal Cave he
was  feeling  himself out of place.  He hadn't magical powers like his mates, he
hadn't any particular ability if not the interest for knowing and writing.
Even  his attempts as thief were failed.  Despite his roots, he wasn't even able
to play a decent thief.

Since  his  return,  Zulkir Maligor had started to dream that Ragnar, seldom, at
the  beginning  and  then  more and more often, as if the menace brought by this
mysterious character was approaching closer and closer.

There  was something odd in the Ragnar of his dreams, Zulkir could feel that the
man  was  bringing  pain  and sorrow to him but he knew also that his intentions
weren't  evil,  that  he  was coming to the Guild with good purposes.  There was
something strange in that and just this worried Zulkir more.

After  the usual desperate and sad meditations he returned to his bed, trying to
conquer  the  world of oblivion, well knowing that that night was destined to be
another quiet battle with the evil spirits of consciousness.


A  new  day  smiled  with  its  sun,  while  Zulkir Maligor's tired eyes finally
welcomed  the  comforting light.  Another night without sleeping, that dream was
destroying him.  He decided to reach Castle Camelot early in the morning, with a
strange  feeling  in the heart, almost sure that something terrible was going to
happen  and even more sure to want it to happen as soon as possible, he couldn't
wait anymore.

There  was  some  excitement  in  the  Castle, he noticed it immediately getting
across Rincewind, who was exercising a levitation spell with his vexed suitcase.
He  entered  in  the  main  hall, where a bunch of Guilders seemed interested in
something particular, just at their centre.
Zulkir's  heart  was  bumping savagely, IT was there, he could feel his dream in
the hall!
The  circle  of mages opened, among them a tall man looked at him.  There wasn't
the need of staring back, it was Ragnar.
Zulkir collapsed on a chair, breathing fast.
Ragnar came closer, with the severe face he had always had in the dreams.
"Are  you  Zulkir  Maligor, story teller and chronicler of the Magic Guild?", he
asked.
"Yes",  murmured  Zulkir  without voice, white in the face and trembling in cold
sweat.  The other Guilders looked surprised the scene without talking, there was
something important around.
"I'm Ragnar Olriksson-Harl. Honoured to meet you", he offered the strong hand.
Zulkir  Maligor  watched  him  terrified, "What do you want?", he asked with low
voice.   Every  sign of dignity was lost in that murmuring and trembling heap of
meat.
"Oh,  I'm  just  glad  to meet you personally, I've heard and read many writings
from you and I've appreciated widely most of them!".
The man from the Misdeeds lands watched the newcomer suspiciously, "Glad to hear
that...",  he  attempted and, with lower voice, he continued:  "Are you a writer
too?".
"Sure  I am!  Right for this reason I'd like to subdue to your attention some of
my  later writings, you know, I would like to hear your suggestions, in order to
make  better  one  of my works for the Guild...", Ragnar almost shouted excited.
Zulkir fainted.

Some  time  later,  the  arms  of  the real world hugged him again.  There was a
circle  of  mages  around  him  and  among  them  he  could  see the worried and
astonished  face  of  Ragnar.  He closed his eyes, the nightmare was staring him
right in that place, it had became a disgusting reality.

The nightmare asked: "Is it all right, noble writer?".
Zulkir  Maligor  raised his body, he watched severely Ragnar and replied coldly:
"Everything is right, I don't need your help or commiseration".  He stood up and
walked away, dignified and lofty.

All  the  mages present, Merlyn included, watched surprised and irritated Zulkir
Maligor  leaving  the hall.  His behavior had been an heavy insult for the Guild
and its dignity.  Merlyn tried to repair the fault excusing himself with Ragnar,
who happened to be more surprised than irritated.

For weeks and weeks nobody saw Zulkir Maligor and for weeks and weeks nobody had
looked  for  him.  His relation with The Magic Guild was somehow broken and both
the sides weren't interested to recompose the parts.
Ragnar,  in  the  meantime,  was feeling almost embarrassed for the incident and
even if nobody could give him any responsibility, he was feeling somehow guilty,
even if he wasn't sure for which reason.

He  decided  to  meet  Zulkir  Maligor  and  to  ask for explanations, trying to
establish  a good relation which he welcomed, appreciating the writing abilities
of the late official chronicler of the Magic Guild.
He found Zulkir Maligor in his room, where he had remained for weeks.
He  knocked and entered and without waiting for replies he just asked:  "Can you
please explain?".
Zulkir Maligor watched surprised the other, he breathed heavily, he tried to say
something,  he waited.  After some minutes of silence he started to talk, with a
monotonous and low voice, looking the floor without raising his eyes.

"I've  dreamt  your  arrival  for  weeks,  Ragnar,  and I had feared it, without
knowing  why  and how.  You had destroyed my nerves in many endless nights but I
never could imagine what was the menace you were bringing.
When  you  talked to me, for real, in the castle Camelot, I realized everything,
and it has been worse than every nightmare.
I  was the only official chronicler of The Magic Guild and even if this role may
seem  of lesser importance compared to the magic abilities of the others, I find
it  of  extreme  importance,  as I think that history is built by written words,
built on their witness, shaped according to style's particulars.
What I write will become history.
It's  a  role  of  great  responsibility and total power, I don't think that the
other Guilders have realized that.  The power of a pen may be much stronger than
the one of a thousand of spells.
I've always been cautious with it.  I've studied much, I've written much, I know
how  I  can  relate  the  deeds  of  The  Magic Guild and I've felt my work as a
personal and important duty.  When I heard that you were going to become another
chronicler of The Guild I understood what I had feared of you.
I wanted to be the only one, the only historian of the Guild, the only pen.
With  you  things are different, my role is much less important, two voices make
more  confusion  than  one, they report two truths and when there are two truths
none of them is true for the world.
I'm  honest with you, I'm telling you the reasons why I fear your collaboration,
I feel like everything is lost for me, I've nothing more to lose.
You  are  my  only hope now, you can try to exploit your better popularity among
the Guild and destroy me, or you can decide to cooperate with me.
We  can  continue  the work I was doing, my chronicles were written in a certain
way,  which  can  give  to  the  Guild an incredible power and popularity in few
generations.   You  can't  imagine  how  a  chronicle  made in a certain way can
present the same fact under a totally different light.
Maybe a day the Magic Guild will be able to control the whole world, also thanks
to  my  chronicles, maybe it will become an hidden and underground organization,
unknown  to  the mass, with just the external face of glory and respect build by
words.   A  double  level  Guild, with two faces, the popular one and the hidden
one.
It'll bring the world to the right future, and the world won't even notice it.
You  know  how  people and masses can be influenced, you know also how tender is
the balance among different tendencies and forces.  To control them it will mean
to prevent the world from falling into chaos and ruin.
Tell  me  then,  Ragnar,  if  you want to help me in building all this or if you
prefer  to  reveal everything to the others.  Nobody knows of my plans, not even
Merlyn,  it's  not  the right moment.  I'll tell him everything, when I could be
able to have some results, some certainties.
This  Plan,  for  now,  is just in my mind, we would need time to start it, only
when we will have something on our hands we could talk about it to Merlyn, he'll
surely appreciate, the path of Good has always been an obsession for him."

Zulkir  Maligor  raised  his eyes towards Ragnar, the thorvalian was staring him
with the mouth slightly open.
Zulkir  knew  that  he  had  made  a  good  speech,  he had touched all the most
convincing  points  like  power,  search  for  Good,  importance of the role and
hidden's fashion.
He  had omitted some particulars of lesser importance, like the words not always
true he used to write in the Official Chronicles about himself.  His mind smiled
remembering  how the unofficial chronicles about the Sunstone, for example, were
somehow different from the official ones.
He could have time to influence Ragnar in the desired direction, exploiting also
his experience and the admiration Ragnar seemed to have towards him.
Zulkir  felt  himself much better than before, the figure in front of him seemed
less  tall  than  previously, he smiled imperceptibly and stared Ragnar, who was
opening his mouth to say the words that could decide Zulkir's life.
"I... uhm... I think I need some time to... decide."


From: "The Unofficial Chronicles Of The Magic Guild"