Date: Fri, 13 May 1994 08:16:55 EDT From: "TELEC" Subject: ADND-L: FLUFF Tales of the Zodiac Chapter 1. X-Topic: Entry #25149 of LISTS.ADND-L To: "LISTS.ADND-L.25149" Posted on 20 Apr 1994 at 16:17:08 by Uriacc Mailer (002033) ADND-L: FLUFF Tales of the Zodiac Chapter 1. Date: Wed, 20 Apr 1994 12:25:39 EDT Reply-To: Zodiac From: Zodiac Heres' a bit of fluff. It gets better in the next chapter, I promise. ........................................................................ . Tales of the Zodiac, chapter 1 Tim should have listened to his mother. She always used to scold him, "If you don't shape up, the Margrave will get you." He always figured she was making it up, but here he was, 12 years old, and a bonded servant of the Margrave Alzanor. Six months ago, he was just another farmhand, working the fields, but he played hooky just once, and WHAM, instant Houseboy. At least he wasn't an Arena Fighter. They had the life expectancy of dirt. Successful fighters were honored, then sent back to fight again. Unsuccessful fighters were dead. Tim was just a household slave, sent to fetch messages, pour wine, and basically fulfill the slightest wish of his master. Thankfully, the Margrave's wishes did not go too far, unlike his uncle and predecessor, who treated his pages like those of a book, bending them over at the slightest whim. Just thinking about it made his skin crawl. Tonight was going to be special, for it was the night of the Spring Festival, and as Tim had turned twelve, he was now considered a man. The Margrave himself had asked that Tim be assigned to attend him tonight. Scuttlebutt in the slave quarters was that a skald had been hired to entertain at the banquet, and the cooks had been working for a week to prepare the feast. Tim was looking forward to it. The sun set, and Tim, dressed in his finest doublet, presented him- self to his master. "Ah, yes, Timarid, good. Tonight's a special night for you, yes? The rites of manhood have special meaning around here, as you will soon find out." "How so, milord?" Tim asked, quizzically. The Margrave smiled, "But that would be telling...you shall see." The great Hall was alive with color and music. Nobles and merchants from the neighboring lands had come fior the free food, as well as the prestige of the event. Horns blared as the Margrave entered, moving to the high table. Tim took the customary position behind his chair. It was one hell of a party. The skald, an old man from the west, sang songs and told tales from ancient times. The mead flowed, the meat cooked, and Tim was bored out of his mind. Finally the Margrave pushed back his chair, and stood, goblet in hand. "My friends, today is a special day for one of our young servants. He has reached the age of manhood, and today we salute his new duties," Beckoning Tim forward, he continued, "Let us drink to him. To Timarid!" The crowd stood, and in tones ranging from a cheer to boredom, raised their cups, "To Timarid." Tim found himself standing in front of them all, a chalice pushed into his hand. "Drink lad, it's tradition..." Tim took a sip, to the cheers of a rowdy group of Northmen, as his master continued. "Yes, now you are a man. You are now worthy of the Arena." It was quiet understandable that Tim dropped his cup. Fainting deaD away was a bit of a surprise. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Chapter 2 Tim awoke groggily, the morning sun in his eyes. "It must have been a dream," he muttered, rubbing the last dregs of sleep away. Unfortunately, the view which met his eyes put the lie to that statement. He was in a large room, filled with rough- hewn beds, each with a snoring figure. It all came back to him. He was in the Arena quarters. He was expected to fight. This was not good. Soon a slim dark figure ennterd, accompanied by a massive servant. The newcomer nodded to his slave, who banged on a small gong. With a start, the room came to life. "Good morning gentlemen," the stranger hissed, "For those of you who have joined us, my name is Makialos. I don't like you, and soon I'm sure you'll despise me. I don't care." Makialos dodged a thrown bowl, which crashed against his silent companion's chest. There was no reaction from the giant. "You show spirit. Good. The crowds enjoy that. I'm sure you'll make an excellent show, at least the first time out." He grinned, showing a close family resemblance to a skull, "Whether or not you have a second chance is entirely up to you." Flicking his cloak over his shoulder, he left, trailed by the servant. Tim slowly dressed in the rough shirt and trousers left beneath his bed. His neighbor, an easterner by appearance, had slightly better gear. Tim was unsure why. "Boy, what are you staring at?" the Easterner called. "Um, why aren't you dressed like the others. Sir?" The man grinned, "Because I am the best, and the keepers reward sucess. I am Kobyiat, the Swift. What are you called?" Tim started, "You look different in the Arena. Haven't you won a thousand bouts?" "Nearly that, I imagine. I don't bother to count anymore. Come lad, what is your name?" "Timarid, of Langia." he replied, with a catch in his voice as he remebered his homeland. Kobyiat paused, "Oh, yes, the new gladiator. That's why you were sleeping in the Sunshine Suite." At Tim's blank look, he continued, "Your bed is right in line with the window. You were awoken by the sun, yes?" "Yes, sir, Master Kobyiat." Tim replied. "Gods, boy, call me Koby. Here, we are all equal. In the Arena, our differences matter, but in the barracks, why bother? As I was saying, don't worry about your bed." "Why, Master K- ...Koby?" Tim asked. Koby looked at him somberly, "There'll be a contest today, for the Festival. Tonight, you'll move to another bed." Tim digested this, and a sick look came with the realization, "You mean?" "Yes, today somebody dies." Koby forced a grin, "But first, we eat!" A bell rang, alerting the warriors to prepare for their meal. En masse, they thundered down the hall, bowls in hand, deep into the oldest part of the castle. Tim found himself waiting in line in a large room. When he reached the front, a cook poured a thick gruel into his bowl. "This is it?" he asked. "Move along, slave," one of the guards muttered, punctuating it with a flourish of his mace. Tim moved. In one corner of the room, he saw Koby beckoning to him. "Here lad, sit next to me. Would you like some wine? It's like mak- ing love in a canoe, but it's better than nothing." Koby handed Tim a cup, and splashed it full. Tim looked around, noticing a large mural on one wall, "What is this place? I've never been _here_ before." "This is the old Great Hall. When the Margrave's grandsire gained the land, he rebuilt the castle, but kept the old tower." Tim didn't quite hear him. The mural depicted a dancing jester. On one side, he seemed to be in a castle, but on the other, he was in the woods, accompanied by hounds. "What's that about, Koby?" "That's Varnie's Doom. Many years ago, this land was ruled by a Baron Varnius, a nasty piece of work by all means. One year he tried to ban the Spring Festival." Koby paused, sipping his wine, "but the serfs celebrated anyway. A masked jester led them in a dance to the castle, but the Baron resisted." "What happened then?" Tim asked, enthralled. "He died. It seems the jester was the Master of the Wild Hunt. That year, the Baron was the prey. When the new ruler took over, he had that mural painted." "Oh," Tim ate in silence, until something occured to him, "Koby?" "Yes?" "What'll happen today?" Koby set down his bowl, wiping his lips, "Makialos will draw lots to choose my opponent for this morning's fight. Then we'll fight." "Um, right, but what about me? When do I start training?" Koby laughed, "In what, lad? I fight with two swords, in the Iron Lotus style. Balok over their swears by his battle-axe. Indja, from the Ereban Jungle, uses a whip. Each gladiator chooses his weapons, and trains himself. If he wins, he knows he did it right. If not, it's too late." "I'm not ready for this," Tim gulped. "Relax lad, after the duel, I'll give you some pointers. You look agile enough to dance the Lotus." Tim stammered, "Thank you, I-I hope you win." Koby grinned at him, "If I lose, then perhaps my opponent will help you. Either way, you'll learn a winning style." Hours later, Koby walked out into the middle of the Arena, hearing the roar of the crowd. He turned to face the Margrave's box, where he, Makialos, Makialos' guard, and the skald sat. Drawing his blades, Koby saluted his master, "Hail Alzanor! Today I fight for you!" you slimy bastard, he didn't add. The gate opposite him clanked, and he prepared to meet his challenger. The wooden doors opened, revealing...Timarid ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - Chapter 3 Tim had watched Koby leave to prepare, as the rest of the fighters waited for Makialos to draw the tile. He entered the hall, followed by his mountainous flunky, who carried a large jar. The jar was set down, and Makialos began to stir the tiles. "Draw...draw...draw," the chant began, "Draw, Draw, DRAW, DRAW..." Makialos plunged his hand deep into the jar, and drew out the tiles. He peered at the name, and smiled thinly, "Warriors of the Arena, today's challenger is Timarid of Langia!" A babble of voices went up, "Who?..Isn't that the new kid?..A child?.. No a man, he went through the rites...Untrained?...Qucik fight I think..? Makialos gestured to Tim, "Come along, you must choose your weapons." Tim had no choice but to obey. He followed Makialos out of the hall, down to the armory. There he saw racks of swords, armor, and weapons of every type. He was confused. How could he fight? Why? "Hmm..." Makialos pondered, "You are slim, and young. Heavy armor would slow you, and you don't have the strength for the larger arms. I think dagger and buckler will do." Tim stammered, "But sir! I don't know how to fight!" Makialos handed him the weapons, "Make a good show, slave. Keep moving. If it looks like you aren't trying, the archers will drop you. Such is the law of the Arena." Together, they walked to the Arena, where Tim was left behind the south gate. "Wait here, until the door opens. Then prepare to fight." Makialos left, servant in tow. What seemed like an eternity later, Tim heard Koby's challenge, and the door opened Koby's reaction was typical, "Makialos, you jackal, what in the name of Sutai were you thinking? The lad hasn't any training!" "It is not your task to choose the opponent, but mine," Makialos hissed, "And I chose him." Kobyiat drove his swords into the ground, "I will not this young lad. It is not part of the Dance." "Dance? This is war, slave." Makialos paused, and smiled thinly, "Is this your final word?" "It is." "Very well, you won't fight." Koby relaxed, as the crowd muttered. Makialos turned to the archer next to him, "Kill him." In a smooth flowing motion, the archer drew his bow, and fired. Kobyiat stared at the feathers blossoming in his chest, "So this is my last dance..." He dropped to his knees, and passed out. "NO!" Tim rushed out, and kneeled at Koby's side. Alzanor stood. "Kill the lad too. We shall hold a tourney for the next champion." The skald went pale, "Milord Margrave, this is not right. This boy should not even be IN the Arena, and now you wish to kill him outright? I protest." "I didn't ask for your advice, old man," Alzanor growled, "Keep a ci- vil tongue, or I'll have it removed." "The Baron Varnius thought he was unaccountable as well," the old skald declaimed, "and he paid the price." Alzanor laughed, "You are not the Huntsman. However, if you care so much about the lad, you may go to him." He turned to the massive attendant, "Mugar, send him down." The great hand chopped, striking the skald in the throat, and sending him sailing out of the box, to fall two stories to the ground. The skald's body landed with a crunch, near Koby's body, where Tim was frantically trying to stop the flow of blood. Alzanor turned to his archers, "See they die slowly. Miss the heart." "It won't be that easy." a coughing voice called. The crowd gasped, as the skald stood, blood staining his motley robe. Alzanor laughed as he curled up with a racking cough. "Well, you are a tough old coot." The coughs shook the skalds body, growing imperceptibly deeper. Tim looked up as they began to change. To laughter! The skald stood, as a mist seemed to grow about him. Bloodstained motley faded to white, as a snowy cloak cowled about him. "Tougher than thou, Alzanor." he thundered. "What sorcery is this?" Alzanor screamed, as the crowd scattered The ex-skald turned to Kobyiat, and laid his hands upon his wound. A shimmering light coalesced, then faded, leaving whole skin behind. The cloaked figure stood, and cloak flaring, rose into the air. "Hear the Law, Alzanor," he thundered, as the nobles cowered. "In the Cycle of Life, there is Death. But when life is taken for naught, there is Vengeance." The Margrave stood, and turned to the door, tearing it open. The white figure greeted his eyes. "There is Vengeance." Alzanor screamed, and ran the other way, rapidly running out of floor. He tried to jump, but the stranger clasped his throat. "Pay the price, Alzanor." Twin lights shone beneath the hood, and Alzanor screamed. His body twisted, as the shrieks grew higher. He wriggled, and as Tim stared, became a snake. "The price is paid." The stranger dropped the now-reptilian Margrave, and glided to the Arena floor. Kobyiat and Tim looked on as the cloak faded, revealing a red-headed man of indeterminate age. His vest was of high-quality embroidered lea- ther, and his hair, marred by a white streak, was bound in a tail by a golden clasp. "Well, are you going to just lie there? Makialos is still around here someplace, and he's more dangerous than Alzanor was." Koby and Tim just stared. "Who are you?" the Easterner finally said. "I? I am the Marduk, Champion of the Cycle, Wielder of the Mantle of Vengeance." He grinned, looking down, "But you can call me Zodiac." Chapter 4 "I'm sure you have a lot of questions," Zodiac said, "but now isn't the time to answer them. Makialos is still out there." He reached down, and helped Kobyiat to his feet, "You and Tim will have to free the other warriors, and take the armory. I'll worry about Makialos!" Koby grinned, "Leaving us with the easy job, eh? You're the one with all the tricks up his sleeve..." "Which I'll need against Makialos. He's more dangerous than you might think," Zodiac paused, "Now what to wear..." Tim and Koby looked on in awe as colors scintillated about Zodiac's form. They could hear him mutter, "Too flashy, not protective enough, wrong timeframe, copyrighted, ah...perfect!" The lights settled, revealing Zodiac in an odd suit of armor, with flared shoulders, ornate bracers and greaves, and a chainmail skirt. A skullcap, with attached mail hood, completed the ensemble. "Shall we, gentlemen?" Zodiac smiled. Koby was the first to react, "Lets..." Zodiac led them out of the Arena, and back into the castle. The halls were deserted, and Koby was worried. "Where is everyone?" he muttered rhetorically. "Hopefully, running into the next barony," Zodiac replied, "Here's where we split up. I'll meet you in the main courtyard." Zodiac pivoted and headed toward the stairs leading upward. The other two intrepid adventurers headed towards the barracks. On the way, they met with some resistance. A squad of footmen had broken into the wine cellar, and were feeling brave. "Hey!" one slurred, "Aren't you Koby-ack, um Cobra-ash, uh klepto.. Aw shoop, aren't you the champ?" "Yeah he is," said his slightly more coherent, if equally intoxicated companion, "Hand over your swords, and return to the barracks!" Koby grinned, a grin which did not bode well for the guards. Unfortu- nately, they were too far gone to notice. He replied, "I'm on my way to the barracks now. However, I'll keep the swords, if you don't mind." The first guard wobbled over to his partner, and the sounds of mumbled conversation could be heard. Finally he spoke up, "W-we DO mind! Hand them over!" Koby spun on his left foot, and his blades made sweeping circles in the air. The guards gaped as their jerkins were sliced open and their belts severed, leaving their trousers puddled about their ankles. A look passed between them, and the second guard responded, "On the other hand, you can keep the swords. Have a nice day." Koby sheathed his blades and led Tim down the hall. As they turned a corner, they heard two thuds behind them, as their ertwhile opponents passed out. The guard at the barracks door was sober. He wasn't going to faint. However, he was also a fan of the Arena, and knew he had little chance of winning against Kobyiat. So as Koby stepped into view, he gracefully drew his sword, handed it to Tim, and ran for his life. Koby burst through the door, much to the surprise of his fellows. "KOBY!" the shout came, in several accents. One of the warriors, a fellow Easterener, called, "You didn't kill the lad. You couldn't have killed the lad..." "He didn't," Tim replied, stepping through the door, juggling the rapier , buckler and sword. A babble of voices filled the air. After a fairly quick summary, Tim and koby got to the important message. "We are taking the Castle!" Koby shouted, "Are you with me?" The roar in reply left little doubt as to how the gladiators felt. They stood as one, and heeding Koby's shouted instructions, swarmed out of the barracks. The gurads never knew what hit them. The few which had not heard of the Margrave's new condition were completely unprepared for the assault. The armory fell, followed by the guardhouse, Soon, all but the old tower had been taken, and that was blockaded. The newly freed warriors spread out into the courtyard. Tim found his way to Kobyiat's side. "Where is Zodiac?" he asked, worriedly? Before Koby could respond, a burst of light erupted from the top of the old tower. The mob looked up, to see Zodiac and Makialos engaged in combat. Makialos, accompanied by his mute slave, was throwing crystal globes at his armored opponent. The globes dropped into his waiting hands from midair, and exploded on contact. The top three floors of the tower had suffered. Zodiac did not seem to be putting up much of an offense. "Great Marduk!" Makialos sneered, as Zodiac dodged another shower of shards, "Where is your vaunted power now." He raised both hands, and another sphere, this one jet black, formed between them, "This time, you will not return. Ever." The globe shot forward, as Zodiac raised his hands at well. The crowd hushed as a beam of light connected his palms, absorbing the orb. He rotated his palms downward, and the beam extended, forming into a 6-foot staff, formed of a prismatic metal. Zodiac smiled, spinning the staff slowly, "Nice try, but I know you now, Devourer. You cannot defeat the Light." "No!" Makialos screamed, dashing for cover, "M'garr! Arise!" The giant slave stood from where he'd been cowering and howled. The tower rumbled and began to collapse. While everyone stared, great curled horns and batlike wings grew on the bestial servant, and his skin became leathery. Makialos laughed, "Enjoy your victory, Marduk! For we shall meet once more, and this time, you will end!" He leapt into the demons arms, and was carried aloft. Zodiac drove his staff into the flagstones, and the stones stopped. Light grew from the foundation, and covered the tower. When it had faded, the tower stood silent, and mostly rebuilt. "Where is Zodiac," Timaris said after a moment. "Right behind you." Tim spun, and found Zodiac staring at him, smiling. The Marduk was now back in his usual wardrobe of shirt vest and tights. Tim was baffled, "B-B-But..." Koby placed a hand on his shoulder, "Magic is like that, lad. You get used to it." "Very wise," Zodiac replied, "and for that wisdom, I give you control of the castle and lands. Try not to screw it up too badly." For the first time in his life, Koby was speechless. He simply stared as Zodiac turned to Timarid. "I can grant you one boon, lad. What do you desire?" Timarid stood silently in thought. Finally, he looked up, stared Zo- diac straight in the eye, and replied. "I want to go home." "Are you sure?" Zodiac asked. "Yes," Tim responed, his eyes gleaming. "So be it!" Zodiac raised his arms with a flourish. His white cloak appeared about his shoulders, and spread to cover Tim. There was a flash of light, and they vanished. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Chapter 5 "So be it!" Tim's world went white, as Zodiac's cloak swirled in front of his eyes. His head felt swimmy, and he seemed to be floating. When his vision cleared, he found himself lying by a campfire in a forest glen. "Where am I?" Zodiac rose from the far side of the fire, "You are 20 miles away from Alzanor's castle, and a day's journey from your village. Although we could have dropped right in on them," he smiled to himself,"so to speak, I thought you might prefer a short while to prepare yourself." "Prepare myself?" Tim asked, "For what? I'm going _home_!" Zodiac seemed ready to answer, but suddenly he raised his hand, "Shh! Somebody is coming!" "A ranger?" "No," Zodiac replied, "Bandits. Four of them, three with clubs, and one with a sword." Tim snorted, "Yeah right. So what's their hair color?" "Brown," Zodiac stated simply, "Stay down, I'll handle this." "No." Tim replied, but suddenly he couldn't move. His blanket had wrapped around him tightly. "Ho the fire!" came a gruff voice from the shadows. "Well met, strangers." Zodiac replied, turning his back to the flames. "Might we join you?" "Come freely and in peace." Zodiac intoned, "and you have nothing to fear." This had the desired effect. Thinking they had found easy targets, the bandits charged. Zodiac raised his arms, and lightning crashed in the sky behind him. The fire blazed up, and a horned figure appeared within it. "Good!" Zodiac cried, his eyes glowing red, "My master is hungry, and you have arrived just in time!" The bandits, showing remarkable acumen, decided that they would try another forest for plunder. At the rate they were moving, they must have chosen one on the far side of the continent. Zodiac lowered his arms, and the figure vanished. A chuckle arose from his lips. Tim suddenly found he could move again. "Who are you?" he asked fearfully, "Who was that?" "An illusion, lad." Zodiac replied, "and as for me, that's a longer tale. Come, sit by the fire." He motioned beside him, "Tell me, Timarid, who are the greatest foes? Good and Evil? Law and Chaos? Life and Death?" Tim pondered a moment, remembering the words of the village priest. Finally he replied, "Good and Evil." Zodiac shook his head, "Many believe so, but most of reality is beyond such concepts. Only the sentient seem to bother with it. The birds of the air and beasts of the field do not." "Law and Chaos?" Tim guessed. "Again no. Law is a function of societies. What is ordered to some, may be disorder to others. True, absolutes exist, but they are for the most part unattainable." Tim sighed exasperatedly, "Then it must be Life and Death." A small smile flitted across Zodiac's lips. "No?" Tim asked. "No." Zodiac stated. "Life cannot exist without death. The food we eat must come from something that was once living. If nothing died, nothing could live. They are two sides of the same coin. "Reality is the fusion of opposites. Life and Death dance in a circle of rebirth. Law gives order to the Chaos, and Chaos gives growth to the Law. Good and Evil vie for Dominance, to win what? Nothing but a brief moment of power. "The Wheel turns. There is birth, growth, death, and rebirth, in an endless Cycle. But for every great force there is an opposite, and in this case, it is the Devourer. It wishes to end the Cycle. End _every- thing_. If left unchecked, the natural tendencies of things to age will cause it to be victorious. Like a pendulum, unless one keeps it moving, all things fade. That is my purpose. The first to fight the Devourer was the god Marduk, who fought it in the form of Tiamat. He was the vic- tor, and gained a kingship for it. She lost, and most of her power was taken. The War continues..." Tim frowned in thought, "Why? Can't you end it once and for all?" "I cannot. For in destroying the Devourer, I'd become the Devourer, and the battle would be lost," Zodiac paused, "But sleep, lad, in the morning you will go back to your village." Lost in thought, Timarid curled beneath the blanket, and drifted into his dreams. The next morning, Tim prepared for his journey. Zodiac gave him a bag of food, and a canteen of water, and sat on a rock, "If you follow the path towards the dawn you'll reach your village by sunset." "Aren't you coming with me?" Tim asked. Zodiac shook his head, "This forest is safe during the day. I'll just sit here, and listen it. Go lad, your home awaits." Tim shrugged, and rose to his feet, checking his gear. He turned, and without looking, said, "Fare well, Zodiac." "Go," came the whispered reply. He started walking. And walking. When the sun reached her zenith, he sat down by a familiar looking brook, and had lunch. But he couldn't sit long, and soon became anxious to get moving. His pack empty, and his belly full, he continued on the journey. Finally, he reached a village. Like any village, it had the usual square, smithy, and general store. Tim did not recognize it, but he soon realize that much had changed in the summers he'd been gone. He walked through the square, watching the children playing. His mind stretched back, trying to recall where his family's farm had been. He shrugged in defeat, and walked into the Raven's Lair. The tavern was nearly empty, as most of the people were working in the fields. As he approached the bar, a buxom wench walked over. "My," she said wryly, "aren't you the handsome one. I likes them young." Tim flushed, and stammered, "I-I-I..." The barmaid laughed, "You are a lamb, aintcha? What can I do for you?" Tim leashed his hormones, swallowed, and replied, "My name is Timarid, son of Diarmid. I'm looking for my family." "Timarid?" the barmaid said, with a stunned look on her face. She peered closer at him, "By the Maker, it is you? Don't you recognize me?" Tim stopped, and the realization came, "Arila? Is it really you?" She hugged him, burying his head in her bosom, "My baby brother has come home! Einar! Come quick! It's Timmy!" "You've, um, *grown*, Ari," came Tim's muffled voice. She finally released him, as a hand spun him around. Einar, his sister's old beau, had arrived. "Welcome home lad!" came the cry, and Tim found himself in a crushing embrace, not nearly as padded as his sister's. He looked up, staring at Einar's face, and the scarred area around his eyepatch. "What happened to you? Why aren't you at the farm?" Einar grew somber, "The farm was destroyed in an ogre attack two, no three winters ago. They came out of the storm, ravaging and plundering. I was lucky, they only took my eye. Your parents," he paused, "Your ma and pa died. There wasn't anything we could do to save them. Ari sold the plow and animals, and, using that as dowry, married me. We bought the tavern that spring." "My parents?" Tim stared. Finally the tears came. Ari and Einar tried their best to comfort him. Ari put her arm on his shoulder and held him until the shaking stopped. "There, there," she whispered, "Let it out. You've come back. All is not lost. You can live with us and Tom, our boy. He's a bonny boy, he is. Takes after his granda." Tim wiped his nose, and stood, "I'd like that." "What happened, Timarid?" Einar asked gruffly. "It's a long story..." he began. Tim soon began work at the tavern, tending bar while Ari was watching young Tomarid. But he wasn't happy. His mind wandered, recalling the sights he'd seen at the castle. Even though he'd been a slave, he'd been part of many a grand ball, and even helped overthrow the Margrave. Faces swam before his eyes, as he wiped dowm the bar. Alzanor, with his cold eyes in a kindly face. Makialos, sneering. Kobiyat, laughing at a rough jest. And especially Zodiac, with that ghostly smile on his lips. That night he lay on his cot, staring at the ceiling, remembering. The words of Zodiac came to him, "The Wheel turns..." He could see it spinning in his minds eye, surrounded by the faces of his past. It spun, and he drifted to sleep. The next day, Ari came in, and found him already dressed, and slinging a pack on his back. "What are you doing?" "I have to go, Arila. This isn't my home anymore. Things have chang- ed. I have changed." "Are you sure?" she murmured, "We love you dearly." Tim paused, "A bard, at the keep, once sang a song about the desire to keep traveling, to see new things. He called it 'Wanderlust'." Ari nodded, "I've heard the song. If this is your choice, then it must be. Fare well, Timarid son of Diarmid." "Fare well, Arila. Tell Einar and Tomarid goodbye for me." He turned to the door, and left. Late that day, he came to the clearing where he'd left Zodiac one moon ago. Zodiac was still there, and it appeared he hadn't moved. "You knew. Didn't you." Tim accused. "I did. You are part of a much greater Wheel, now. Why not give it a spin?" He stood, and turned to point at the rock. It rippled, and began to shift. In moments, it had formed into two columns, supporting an arch. Between the columns, was ...nothing." "What is that!" Tim cried. Zodiac grinned, "The universe. All of time and space. Knowledge of the past, present and future. And my toothbrush. Come with me, lad. Walk a new path." Tim shrugged, "Why not? There's nothing more for me here." "Then come. Enter the Labyrinth." "Wait! Could I go back, and save-" "No, Tim." Zodiac replied kindly, "What's done is done. But you could give their deaths meaning. Live well." "At least can I visit my sister?" Zodiac nodded. Together, they stepped between the columns, and vanished. The columns melted back into stone, and the glade was quiet