Sentinelspire

Berun returned the embrace, then pushed Lewan away gently. 'There is someone you must meet.'

Lewan stepped back from his master and turned to the other man. Closer now, he saw that it was not an old man at all. The sharper features, the slight cant to the eyes amidst the high cheekbones, and the points of the ears protruding from the tufts of white hair showed Lewan that he was a half-elf-a very, very old one.

The half-elf smiled and bowed. 'We have met, have we not, Lewan?'

'Uh, I…' No mistaking it. It was the same voice. But this half-elf looked nothing like the man Lewan had met that day on the mountainside.

'You must forgive our young disciple, Berun,' said the half-elf, 'though I fear the fault for his confusion must be laid at my feet. Observe.'

The half-elf closed his eyes and murmured. He drew in a deep breath and… flickered. The light and shadow of the floating orbs played over him, and his image seemed to blur and shift. When it steadied, an altogether different man stood before them. A human, still past middle-age, but taller, darker, and possessing an aristocratic bearing. It was the man Lewan had met that day on the mountain.

Berun's eyes went wide with shock and something like horror.

The man laughed, and his image flickered again. When it steadied, the old half-elf stood before them again.

'A small joke on my part,' said the half-elf. 'I came and spoke to your disciple several days ago while he was undergoing a vigil on the mountainside. I knew that the half-orc was watching, and I knew that the sight of Alaodin emerging from the woods to talk to Lewan here would… rattle Talieth's little conspiracy.'

'Conspiracy?' said Lewan. 'I'm sorry, masters. I'm… I'm confused.' He looked at the half-elf. 'You aren't the Old Man of the Mountain?'

The half-elf chuckled. 'Oh, but I am! And I am not. The Old Man of the Mountain-Alaodin, master of assassins, feared the world over… well, I fear he met his just and deserved end many years ago. At my hand. But the Oak Father smiled upon me, and rather than fight his remaining subjects, they swore loyalty to me. And so I became a 'new' Old Man.'

The half-elf sighed. 'But alas, the oaths of assassins are not to be trusted. Seeing my vision, the beauty of what I would bring to the world, some of the blades of Sentinelspire joined me. But some want only to sate their own appetites, to horde power for themselves no matter the cost to the world. And these… these found a willing leader in the Lady Talieth. Almost from the beginning, she has conspired against me.' 'You killed her father…' said Berun. 'I did,' said Chereth, 'though it was no grief to her. I don't suppose you two had time to speak much tonight, have you? 1 killed Alaodin, true. But it is also true that the last rebellion the Old Man put down before my arrival-the one that almost succeeded-was led by Talieth. Even she recognized what a blight Alaodin had become to the world. The day I killed her father, Talieth was locked in a dungeon beneath the Fortress, waiting for her father to decide what to do with her. I had hoped she might treat me with some gratitude. I succeeded where she failed, and I freed her. Still… Talieth will never serve' — he cast a quick glance at Berun-'or love anyone but Talieth.' 'Then why-'

The sharp look from the half-elf stopped Lewan. Master Berun had always permitted-even encouraged-Lewan to question him.

'Why did I allow her to live?' said the half-elf. 'Her and Sauk and the rest?'

Lewan nodded. Berun did nothing. His eyes held a hollowness that Lewan had never seen before.

'I am no murderer, Lewan,' said the half-elf. 'I kill only when left with no other choice. I had no desire to kill Talieth, despite her plot to kill me. But…' Something like mischievousness crossed the half-elf’s features, not unlike a little boy hiding a secret. 'In truth, I spared her out of my love for you, Berun. Once my plan reaches its fruition, the world will need to be filled again. Filled with the faithful who will not defile the natural world. I knew, both from things you had told me and things I learned of Talieth, that she was the only woman you had ever loved. I spared her in hopes that she might come to see the folly of her ways, to accept the truth and beauty of what I seek to do. I hoped she might be your bride in our glorious new world, the mother of many children who will carry on our legacy.'

'And Sauk?' said Berun. 'Why spare him and the others?'

The half-elf smiled. 'Truthfully? I like Sauk. Make no mistake, he's a bloodthirsty killer, but if there is malice in his soul I have never found it. He does not prey upon the weak. To do so would be the gravest sin, in his mind. To him, glory is hunting and killing those stronger than him. In our new world, we will need hearts like his.'

'New world?' Lewan looked to his master, hoping for an answer, for guidance of any sort, but he saw nothing.

'Yes, my son,' said the half-elf, and he laid a hand on Lewan's shoulder.

Something in the half-elf's touch made Lewan want to pull away. It reminded him of the time out on the steppe when he and his master had made their camp too close to an old hill that housed a colony of snakes. Lewan had woken with one in his blankets.

'And here we come to the reason I have summoned you,' said the half-elf. 'I intend for the two of you to rule by my side. We are about to see the birth of a glorious new world, a world free of the corruption of civilization, where the peoples of Faerun live in harmony with their world. Tell me, Lewan. The night after your vigil, you dreamed, did you not? Tell us of your dream.'

'What?' said Lewan, and his breath caught in his throat. How could Chereth know? If he knew of the dream, then he also knew of Lewan's mother… and how she had died. Had he told Berun?

'Long ago my own master taught me the art of communicating through dreams,' said Chereth. 'It is not something I have forgotten. I was able to contact you, Berun, that night in the Khopet Dag, yes? And you, Lewan, on the night after your vigil. I was able to send you a vision of my goal. You saw the mountain, did you not? Sentinelspire?'

'I… I did, master,' said Lewan. 'I saw Sentinelspire. But not from here, from the Fortress. It was as if I saw it from a great height. Like… like an eagle might see it, far up in the clouds.'

'Yes,' said Chereth. 'Yes, that was it! Now, Lewan. Now is the time we spoke of on the mountain. I told you I would need your witness, your word. It is time to give it, my son. Tell your master what you saw. Tell him everything.'

Lewan closed his eyes, trying to recall every detail of the dream. It had been so strange, yet so vivid, and as he searched his mind the memories came back easily.

'I saw the mountain… fall. It just collapsed, like a tent whose pole snaps. Much of it was still falling when it all exploded. For an instant, I saw fire in the center of it, white-hot like the sun, then rocks, dirt, ash, and fire… so much fire… spreading outward. Spreading and spreading. It didn't slow. Miles and miles, almost like the ripples of a pond. And then… then the darkness and fire filled everything.

'But then I could see again. I was still up above the world-but higher than any eagle. Higher even than a dragon could fly, I think. Hundreds of miles stretched out under me. I could see the edge of the world curving away into blue sky and black night. But below me-far, far below-I could see the smoke and ash from the mountain. It spread over hundreds, maybe thousands of miles, the wind carrying it far. It spread like… like a brown haze over the world, and then… then I was back down, closer to the land. I could see forests covered in ash. Rivers turned to mud and sooty muck. Fish died in the streams, animals on the land. Summer did not come. Beasts and men starved. Disease crippled entire cities. Entire realms burned as kings made war on their neighbors for food and unpoisoned fields. Then the armies turned on one another.

'Seasons passed. Winds and rains cleansed the air, more every month. Forests grew where once entire villages tilled fields. Trees and vines grew in the midst of castles fallen to ruin. Animals lived in the shells of dead cities. Rivers ran clean again. Lakes became clear. No more did fires burn in cities, their smoke turning sunsets brown. And… and here, the mountain… gone. Blasted away. Only a great hole in the ground remained, and over the years it filled with rain and snowmelt, forming a lake clear as diamonds held against the sky. It was…' Words failed him.

'Beautiful,' said Chereth. 'Perfect. The very image and heart of that for which our Order strives. Men, elves, dwarves, and all thinking peoples will survive, will even thrive in time. But the stink of civilization will be pushed back for hundreds of generations. The wild will recover. We shall breathe free air again.'

Lewan looked on the half-elf, the horror of what he meant beginning to dawn on him. 'You mean that you are going to going to cause this? All those people-'

'Dead, yes,' said Chereth. He hung his head, but Lewan did not sense any real sadness or regret in the gesture. 'So it must be, much to my sorrow. To save the body from infection, sometimes one must cut off a