The Castle Of Hape. Caves Of Fire And Ice. The Joining Of The Stone

We dwell on a different plane, Ramad of Zandour. We live among the valleys and mountains of your dimension, but our dimension is different. So you do not see us clearly. You perceive us as we perceive you, as through a changing curtain of light-struck air. It is because of this, in part, that we have been thought gods. But we are not gods, we are mortal just as you.

“If you are not gods, then those of Carriol who pray to you . . .” he broke off. The beauty of the Luff’Eresi stirred a wonder in him so he wanted only to stare, to memorize every line, the lean, smooth equine bodies so much more beautifully made than horses, the clean lines of the humanlike torsos more perfect than the bodies of his own kind. Their expressions, their whole demeanor was of such joy, it was as if they found in life the very essence of joy, found pleasure and meaning that humans had not yet learned to perceive. As if they had no time for the small, trivial unpleasantnesses of humans, no time or patience for evil and its ways.

“If you are not gods,” he repeated, “then those who pray are praying to—a lie.” His words shocked him. He felt the wrongness of this and the discomfort it caused them. But he needed to know, he needed to sort it out.

We are not gods, Ramad, but there is a power beyond ours; prayers are heard not by gods as humans imagine them but by a higher level of power. There was distant thunder then, but the Luff’Eresi seemed not to heed it. Dark formless clouds—or was it smoke?—lay above the western peaks.

There are lives on many planes, Ramad of wolves, and powers in many degrees, power above power; but all depends on the freedom of each spirit to make its own choices. And Ram understood within himself quite suddenly the force that linked all life, touched each living being. Those who pray can touch it, Ramad, just as we touch it now as we speak to you. A Seer touches that power each time he reaches out. Ram saw, more clearly then than he ever would afterward, layers of life stretched out through all space and time, understood the wonder of being born again, and again, into new lives, each one reaching toward an ultimate brightness.

Born again, Ramad, provided one has not nurtured evil nor sucked upon the misery and pain of others. Such a one knows, through all eternity, crippling fear and pain. This is the choice of each. But that, Ramad, is not why you come to us. Now that you know that the children who burn in Venniver’s fire will likely be born anew to a higher plane, do you still wish to pursue your quest?

Ram stared at the tall winged being who had come forward and stood close to him, his color like light over gold, his torso bronzed, his eyes deep and seeing, compelling. He thought about children dying by fire and could feel their pain. He understood too clearly that what he desired was against all the Luff’Eresi believed. That to change the lives of humans was to destroy that which humankind had woven of the web of survival and of learning. To take away one evil from that web was to act as gods in altering human lives. He understood that this would weaken humankind, that people could be strengthened only by altering their own fate. But again he felt the pain and fear of children dying by fire, and he could not let that rest. “Yes,” he said at last. “I wish to pursue my quest. I wish to beg your help for the children, to beg you once to touch the lives of my people and change them. Will turning aside one evil destroy all of Ere? Venniver will not be destroyed, only discouraged from killing. The Seeing children, the Children of Ynell, can then survive to destroy him as they should. If those children do not survive, the power that fights against Venniver will be crippled perhaps beyond all hope.