The Broken Sphere

Teldin couldn't help but smile. Even after weeks of serving aboard the Boundless, Dargeth still seemed as keen and eager to please as he'd been the day he first stepped aboard. 'No, nothing,' he answered, 'just out for a stroll. Don't let me interrupt you.' The half-ore relaxed visibly, but still obviously didn't feel comfortable turning his back on his captain to return to work. The Cloakmaster strolled over to the rail and stared out into the swirled colors of the Flow.

After a moment, he felt Dargeth's presence as the larger man joined him. 'Did… did the captain come out for some fresh air?' he asked diffidently.

Teldin nodded. 'Sometimes the captain would like to forget for a couple of minutes that he is the captain,' he said wryly. He turned to regard the big half-ore. 'Are you from Crescent, Dargeth?' he asked.

The man shook his head hurriedly. 'No, not from Crescent,' he stammered. 'No, Captain, I was born in Baldur's Gate, on the Sword Coast of Toril.'

'I've been to Toril,' Teldin answered idly. 'Twice. Once to Nimbral in the south, once to Evermeet.'

'Nimbral?' Dargeth turned to stare at him. 'The land of magic? Truly?'

Teldin chuckled. 'Truly, it wasn't that wondrous.' He sighed, it seemed like a fine world, Toril,' he went on quietly, 'what little I saw of it. Someday, maybe, I'd like to return.'

'It is a fine world, Captain,' Dargeth confirmed, 'and the Sword Coast maybe finer than most parts.'

'I'd like the opportunity to see it. Maybe settle down for a while.'

'If the captain pleases,' the half-orc said shyly, 'maybe I could show you the sights. I'm not an expert, of course, not really, but I did live there for twenty years.'

Teldin smiled. Dargeth's enthusiasm, his desire to be of help, was touching.

But then he felt his smile fade. Will I ever have the chance to take him up on his offer? he wondered sadly. I think I'd like that, to be just a tourist with a native guide. But what were the odds that either of them Would ever make it back to Toril?

He sighed, pushed himself away from the rail. 'If we both find ourselves on Toril, I'll take you up on that,' he told the half-orc. 'And, Dargeth,… thanks.' He turned away. 'I think it's time I hit my bunk.'

He started down the ladder, but turned back when Dargeth called after him. 'Captain, would it be possible for the second mate to help me with the catapult tomorrow?' he asked. 'She was such a help to Allyn, the old gunner's mate, before we left Heartspace.'

'I'll talk to her,' the Cloakmaster promised. As he descended the ladder, he saw Dargeth return happily to his work. He smiled sadly, remembering the good, honest satisfaction of working with his hands, of a job well done. Will I ever have the chance to relive that? he wondered.

As he reached the main deck, a bloated, roughly spherical shape emerged from the companionway that led below. Beth-Abz's great central eye reflected the shifting light of the phlogiston, making the creature's form look even more surreal. With the faintest of clicking sounds, a handful of eyestalks pivoted around to inspect the Cloakmaster.

'Greetings, Teldin Moore,' the creature said in its deep, swamp-bottom voice. 'Do you seek solace in the void, as I do?'

The Cloakmaster looked at the eye tyrant curiously. He knew from the comments of other crew members that the beholder frequently could be found on deck during the night watch, its eyestalks pointing in half a dozen directions as though it wished to see absolutely everything that surrounded it. Teldin had often wondered why, but had never had the opportunity to ask. Now he moved over and leaned against the rail again-This is my night for unexpected conversations, he thought wryly-and said, 'I don't really know, Beth-Abz. Sometimes I come out here for fresh air. But solace?' He shrugged.

The beholder floated over to join Teldin at the rail. Side by side they stared out into the chaos of the Flow. 'It is solace I seek,' Beth-Abz said quietly. 'Solace for the loss of my clan and of my nation. Solace for my solitude.' It paused for a few moments. 'Sometimes I seek peace and the certainty that the decisions I have made were the right ones.'

Teldin found himself nodding. 'I guess I am looking for the same thing,' he said slowly. 'Different decisions, but I suppose the doubts are the same.' He looked over at his comrade. 'Do you ever find what you're looking for?'

Beth-Abz's eyestalks pivoted in the pattern that Teldin interpreted as equivalent to a shrug. After a few long moments, the creature spoke again, changing the subject drastically. 'If you ever find the Spelljammer,' the beholder said, 'you should be aware of an important fact. According to the tales of my clan, there are false nations, not of the true ideal, aboard the great vessel. You should beware their perversion.'

The Cloakmaster didn't answer immediately. From Djan and Julia he'd learned a little about the fierce, genocidal hatred that existed between different beholder nations, each of which considered itself 'of the true ideal,' while all others were 'perversions.' Keeping that in mind, he stripped Beth-Abz's comments of their more dire- sounding overtones. An interesting fact still remained-if it was fact, and not a baseless rumor, he reminded himself. Apparently there were beholders aboard the Spelljammer. Beth-Abz was right, that was something Teldin was glad to know. He drew breath to thank the eye tyrant for the knowledge.

But Beth-Abz was speaking again. 'What will you do when you captain the Spelljammer, Teldin Moore?' it asked quietly. 'Is that still your intention?'

Good question, Teldin thought. He shrugged, trying to find a way to put into words his doubts, his confusions.

Again, the beholder didn't wait for him to speak, but continued, 'Will you then become the over- Krezt?'

'The what?'

'The over-Krezt,' Beth-Abz said calmly. 'Is that your desire?''

'Tell me what a Krezt is, and maybe I can answer you,' the Cloakmaster suggested.

'The Krezl is a figure from ancient religious myth among those of my nation,' the beholder explained. 'Few clans of the nation Gurrazh-Ahr still hold to the ancient words that tell of the Krezt, but clan Beth is one of those. The ultimate aboard my hive mothers ship ensured that all of the clan learned of the prophecies.'

Teldin leaned forward, fascinated despite himself. Even though Beth-Abz had been very open in the past about the day-to-day realities of life in a beholder hive, it had said nothing whatsoever about more spiritual issues. 'What prophecies?' he asked.

'It is said that the Krezl will come forth and put an end to the wars of the form, melding the disparate nations into one.' The creature 'shrugged' with its eyestalks. 'Since this would require the nations of the true ideal to allow those of perverted form to survive-which is obviously anathema to many-most of my nation ignore the prophesies, or dismiss them as distortions. Those who disbelieve the prophesies jest that the Krezt must have the mightiest ship in space,' Beth-Abz continued dryly, 'since only by defeating all of the nations, true and false, could the Krezt bring peace to the universe.

'So is that what you intend to do as captain of the Spelljammer, Teldin Moore?' the eye tyrant asked. 'To use it to defeat all of the warring races of the universe, and thus bring them to peace? To be the over-Krezt who pacifies not one race but all? Is that your intention?'

Teldin turned away, suddenly unable to meet the globular creature's multiple gaze. It wonders about the grand scheme that I'm following, he thought, the ultimate agenda that guides my actions. It wonders what universe-rocking plans I've got in my mind.

How can I tell it that I don't have any plans past finding the Spelljammer?

'Would you be the over-Krezt?' Beth-Abz pressed.

'I haven't decided yet,' the Cloakmaster said uncomfortably. 'I'm still thinking about it.'

Chapter Ten