CH 0 (1/2)
00. At the Garden
The plains were smooth and covered by blossoms of every colour. Standing amidst them and taking in the panorama, only some groves of trees in the distance would obstruct your view of the green earth and blue sky filling the scene in equal measure. For here stood no fences or homes made by human hands – no walls, redoubts or lines in the ground men called borders.
At morn’s light, bright rays of spring and the flavours of summer filled the air.
By night’s fall, the sky was swept by autumn winds and dotted by bright stars of winter.
On the earth dwelt many flowers and insects. The forests were home to water and greenery and different beasts. And upon the lake lived the graceful Fae.
Man’s concept of Paradise was but an imitation of this isle at world’s end, a land which they would forever be forbidden from setting foot upon. Legends referred to this microcosm as ‘the island of apples’; a land of everlasting spring; a utopia that could never be obtained or reached by wiser beasts; a realm untouched by the cycle of descensions and downfalls seen in the greater world; and a strange land that had always existed alongside the length of human history and yet would never cross paths with humanity.
Its name was Avalon – and it was the sea at the heart of the planet, the seat for the soul of the celestial being called Earth.
“No… that is not the most correct expression to describe such a thing. For this realm is after all set upon both a higher and a lower plane of our world. I would say that it exists in the exact same point and location but off-set by several phases.”
Someone walked the garden in the form of a human, that of a man dressed in a robe simple in design but woven from the finest fabrics. The sun’s rays shone through his long hair, igniting a rainbow of colours, as he stood there at ease and gazed into the distance.
He strode through the sea of flowers as he spoke to them as one would speak to a friend. No doubt or hesitation could be seen as he hummed and continued to walk, not damaging a single petal on the ground.
Undoubtedly he was some wayfaring sage who wandered into this foreign place. For one thing, none would journey upon the isle unless they also knew the way back, for it was known that Avalon was meant only for the dead.
He walked on without any hint of fear because he himself was a foreign being. It was true that no living man could set foot within this Paradise – but he simply donned the form of one and something else entirely.
To him, the outer world and this garden were much the same. They were the homes of others, where he was merely a guest. He belonged in neither of them and yet he could only find himself in one or the other. From the start, his philosophy on the matter was to neither approach nor make friendly with humans nor paradises. That would explain the ‘how’ as to his sudden visit to this untouched land beyond the boundary; as for the ‘why’, that would be his being pursued by a woman he had scorned and happening upon the bright idea to escape to the literal end of the world.
“But this is really quite a terrible place… the magic in the air is so thick, it might as well be a vacuum. Just single breath would sunder any living man of this era. The Paradise of legend, indeed… perhaps can it be better employed as a weapon?”
He put to words whatever came to mind as he walked through the garden.
The world and people he had left behind was a 5th Century island nation. He had been the court Magus of a king – but rather than stand alongside him in his final battle, he transferred himself into this realm just prior and escaped by himself for exceedingly personal reasons concerning a certain female.
“I see. It was as I had expected… Mordred rose up in revolt with the approval of the lords who had been rebuked by the King., even pressing blame for the severe winters of recent years. So begins the rebellion against our stern king, that living embodiment of the ideals of kings.h.i.+p.”
He trudged along, the flowers which he paid special attention not to step on lessening as he did. Although the isle stretched on endlessly, the environment itself did change; the closer he drew to where the sh.o.r.es of the island ought to be, the more barren and infertile the land became, much like Britain in the outer world.
He pressed on, humming and twirling his staff – and curiously, flowers would spring up in the imprints he made upon the ground, despite there being no traces of Thaumaturgies or esotericae. They did not blossom from his desires to decorate the garden or a sense of sympathy towards these apparently barren lands, a disgrace compared to the rest of this Paradise.
No – for this creature, bringing forth such profusions was as natural as taking breath.
Bringing flowers to the earth; placing dreams in the hearts of men; ushering in simply a future for our history…
Those were his specialties, aspects of his true nature. His name was Merlin, the Magus of Flowers; one of the greatest of Magi even amidst the myriad spell-weavers of human myths and legend; a cambion, the offspring of a human woman and an incubus; and possessor of those eyes which signified supreme mastery of Thaumaturgy – eyes which could perceive into the world.
“Well, so they claim… but in truth those eyes can do little more than sow more seeds. We cannot compare them to those of common men simply because we see further than them.”
Clairvoyance – the ability of the eyes to remain in one place while seeing through to another. Since ancient times, greater beings had left the earth in the care of shamans who utilised this power to safeguard the lives of men. Even the greatest of Magi – holding the thickest of Magic Circuits and capable of conducting the most powerful of rituals – would not be considered an epitome of Thaumaturgy without this ‘sight.’
Merlin possessed such eyes with which to see through the world. He was born with a sense of sight that allowed him to perceive any and all things in existence within his era, down to the smallest of details, without needing to take a single step.
Some Magi older than him even possessed eyes which could perceive into the past, or the future. Of course, they were also considered at the zenith – but the only living Magus who possessed clairvoyance was Merlin. The previous holders had brought annihilation to their own realm and disappeared from the world of men.
To ‘know’ is simultaneously the lowest and the greatest accomplishment of Thaumaturgy; thus, those Magi born in possession of clairvoyance had at the same time reached the truth of the world – becoming heretics of humanity itself who never managed to gain their philosophies and perspectives.