Profs and Prophecy

Prologue

Prologue

Part I: An Ominous Beginning

1509 A.D.

The old man continued forward, focused only on his goal, but he was leaning far more heavily on his staff than he had at the beginning of this journey. Although his objective was uppermost in his mind, he couldn't help the stray thoughts that entered his head. Thoughts like, 'Perhaps this was a job for a much younger man'. Or, 'Perhaps I've taken too much on myself'. But such thoughts had to be banished, for there was no one else. It was his insight, and his plan, and therefore his task. Only he had the vision, the revelation that the past was no model for the future. If he could only convince the others, things might be different for the next generation.

He stopped for a moment in order to wrap his cloak more tightly around himself. The air was thinner, and much colder than he was used to this high in the mountains. He rarely looked anywhere but straight ahead, but he took the time now to look back for a brief moment to see how far he had come. His snowy tracks showed his path, stretching back down the mountain till they were lost in the rocks and sparse shrubbery. The mountain dropped off, far below, but he knew it turned upward eventually and became the next mountain. Then there had been a sea beyond that.

The idea of turning back now was tempting. That way led home, to his pipe and his slippers and his books. But it also led to the past, to unending conflict and misery. The old man sighed, raised his hood and returned to his task. The way up the mountain looked more bleak than ever.

Having climbed over a mile into the sky, hungry and cold and tired, he wondered if this was a fool's errand. He had the backing of the others, but each had the same misgiving. It wasn't enough to convince them, they all had told him. He had to convince 'him'. No one else mattered. If he wasn't on board, the deal, and the future, were dead...

* * *

"Stand where you are!" the sorcerer called out. He leaned against the entry to his tower, his arms folded across his chest, exuding a relaxed and confident air. The sorcerer had waited here for the past hour as he observed the old man's progress up the mountain. He had allowed him to come within twenty feet before calling him to a halt.

The old man stood his ground, watching the other. This sorcerer appeared much younger than he, although they had to be of a similar age. Younger and more modern; perhaps if his thinking matched his appearance he could be convinced. This was the moment the old man had been preparing for.

"Please, hold your fire," the old man replied. "Be assured I have not come here for a fight."

"Not here for a fight?" said the sorcerer as if startled. "But that's what people come here for! You climb my mountain, you get it all scuffed up with your messy boot prints, you get a fight. I can't imagine what else you might have in mind. You don't appear to be selling vacuum cleaners. Perhaps you're a gas marketer? Please don't tell me that you're hoping to persuade me into a religious conversion." he suggested sarcastically.

"No, it's... I'm... my intention is none of these things," the old man said, slightly confused. "I am here with a proposal. I will tell you that I have spoken with all the most powerful sorcerers, and I have their full backing."

The sorcerer stifled a laugh. He looked around the barren mountain, completely devoid of powerful sorcerers. "Backing you all the way from the next continent, are they?" he suggested mockingly.

Undeterred, the old man pressed on. "This is no longer the dark ages," he explained. "We have crossed the threshold of a new century. This is the fifteen-hundreds, and the world has entered a new age of reason and enlightenment."