The Last Philosopher

Disrespecting the afterlife

Lyeasrakardsul waited the appropriate three days before heading back to the smelly Knome cavern. Killing the time had been an ordeal, even with his great skill in the art. He had wanted to return right away, but that would have seemed desperate. It was almost like he cared what the critters thought of him. As he approached, he saw the two spindly Knomes from last time sitting in the shade of a tree growing above the entrance.

The damp cave-dwellers wouldn't want to dry up on this cloudy summer's morning, his sarcasm thought.

"Well, it is said that being driven underground for generations has made the Knomes light sensitive," the old sorcerer answered.

Spotting him, the small creatures both jumped up. Falling over themselves to fold their chair-contraptions while waving excitedly at the same time. He had seen less entertaining comedy troupes. Once he was close enough, he saw they were wearing dark glasses even more bizarre looking than their eyes.

"Get back in the cave, someone might see!" He made shooing motions, and they obediently scurried off.

Close to the entrance a bird flying overhead all of a sudden dropped out of the sky.

"What happened?"

"Is fumes master," the shorter one answered picking it up.

"What are you going to do with it?" He had forgotten this one's name.

"Dinner."

"Oh... eww."

"Bird not important. We wait for master, good Knomes sorry master upset we wait." The taller one, Isath, came up and removed his glasses.

"Why were you waiting outside, and what's with all the waving? People might get the wrong idea you know!"

"We keep watch for master, give good news!"

"Have you been watching since I left?"

"Yes master."

"What if I didn't return?"

"Good master leave note, Isath trust master."

"It said IF! If things went well!" He was shouting, he hadn't meant to shout.

"Master return, things go good?"

"Things go well, and that's not the point, what would you have done if I never returned?"

"We wait long time." Isath's furry face smiled right into his atrophied conscience.

"But that's insane!" It was also the exact the level of service sorcerers expected from the Knomes.

"But have good news master! Knomes build observatory, need fixing up, we fix quick for master."

He scowled at Isath, who was bowing again. Even his hairy ears seemed like they were bending the knee.

These creatures could teach our sorclings a thing or two about work ethic. A stray nice thought entered his mind.

It forced a knee-jerk overreaction from his inner sorcerer. No! Don't even think it, Knomes teaching us would be an abomination!

Seeing as the giant telescope was already built, his visit was short than he would have liked. Soon, he was limping back to the Pedran gate with an unfamiliar feeling of satisfaction. Like he had done a good days work. Even Isath telling him that the observatory had been built before Empris wasn't a serious problem. Since he had no intention of telling the council about it anyway.

"Maybe things are going to work out?" He regretted it as soon as he said it, good feelings never lasted on the Pentakl plain.

Right on cue, he had a sudden sense of deja-moo. I've felt this bullshit before, he thought grabbing his head.

He pushed at his temples as if that would keep the Darkness at bay. As everything around him took on a hue of familiarity, his contempt grew. The impossible was about to happen — memories in advance — and they were fighting to decide who got to be real. Perhaps a god was about to honour him with the displeasure of talking at him?

Dropping all pretence, he set off at his best running pace. Not even a quick walk. His head felt like the father of migraines and the mother of hangovers had a fling, and the resulting accident was squatting behind his eyes. He had read descriptions of what p-wyrds were like. They said nothing about them being this painful and nightmarish. As he bumped into a familiar looking servant at the gate, he slowed to a more dignified pace.

"I won't run through the streets like a lunatic, not even if it kills me", he mumbled stumbling along the cobbled road.

And it looks like that just might be a possibility, his morbidity added cheerfully.

Returning beyond wall, the feeling of being watched returned with a vengeance. And not only watched, but magickally observed.

I may be paranoid, but I'm allowed, every sorcerer is out to get every other sorcerer! That's what we do best!

By the time he stumbled into the Dalmicir tower, the pain had reduced his vision to a small blurry tunnel. He leaned his forehead against the wall, at first to stay on his feet, but the cool stone felt good. Somehow he made it all the way up the winding staircase. Right after shutting the heavy door to his penthouse, his legs gave out. Flat on his back, he projectile vomited straight up like a fountain.

He woke in an unwilling trance, suspended and weightless in a dark void. On the upside there was no pain, and his robes were vomit free.

"This is a prophecy, isn't it?" No one answered. "It must be, I don't have the imagination to dream up something like this."

Dalmicir magick wasn't only limited in time, going back to the era of the school's first sorcerer. It was also limited in space, to the places one could imagine. For him, that meant the edges of the Sojurut continent.

"Why don't you come out you big pansy!" Insults were by far the best way to deal with the divine. Because gods were in no way insusceptible to anger.

Maybe it'll slip up and reveal something? It needs me for the p-wyrd, so it can't kill me?

Sure, but what if it's not a prophecy? You could already be dead, his pessimism offered.

"Ah poppycock, Sulenthvorenth will have a statue made of me in a pool of my own vomit. I guess dying with dignity is too much to ask," he screamed into the void.

You're old enough to know that's not how dying works, because all gods are bastards, his grump thought.

"So, is this the afterlife then?"

This void was dark, but nothing like the Darkness in his nightmares.

"Never really believed there would be an afterlife, not sure I see the point of just hanging around."

A small spot of light appeared and it was growing fast. He had never been more delighted to see anything.

Ha, found your soft spot, no disrespecting the afterlife!

As the light grew, he realised it was coming right at him. A second later he was doing a frantic doggy-paddle trying to scramble in the other direction. But in this frictionless void, nothing happened. So, he stopped resisting and turned back to investigate the shades of blue, green, and white.

"It's Huom," he exclaimed, recognising the outline of the Sojurut continent.

As he got closer, he was pushed down head first towards water. Levelling out near the surface, he swooped up to see several little islands on the horizon. The isles surrounded two landmasses with cities divided by a narrow strait. He said nothing, not wanting to acknowledge how much he wanted to see Loba and Kost again. The rival pirate cities, and his old home.

Updated: 24.11.2023