Magician’s End. Raymond E. Feist

      ‘The world of Kolgen.’ Guide pointed to the south. ‘Once a majestic ocean lapped these shores, now there is only blight and desolation.’

      ‘I don’t understand,’ said Pug.

      ‘Walk, for we have a long journey if you are ever to return home,’ said the likeness of Macros.

      ‘Before we begin,’ said Miranda, ‘can you explain how you resemble my father down to the tiniest detail?’

      Guide paused, and smiled exactly as the now-dead Black Sorcerer had in life. ‘Certainly,’ he said with another pause, again exactly as Macros would have. ‘We exist in a realm of energy, we who serve the One. We are forever in the Bliss, part of the One until we are needed and we are then given form and substance, given an identity commensurate with our purpose; to ensure efficiency, all memories of previous service in that role are returned. So, currently, I think of myself as “I”, a single entity, but that will dissipate when I rejoin the One in the Bliss.

      ‘I am only an abstraction of energy, a being of light and heat if you will, a thing of mind alone. Hence, the One gives me the ability to … suggest to your mortal minds any shape and quality suitable to sustain communications.’

      ‘But we are not mortal,’ said Nakor, indicating Miranda and himself.

      ‘You are more mortal than you might guess,’ returned Guide, ‘for it is of the mind I speak, and while your fundamental being is demonic, your minds are human, more so each day. Moreover, your demonic bodies are things of flux energy, imperfect imitations of beings of the higher plane.

      ‘And you are becoming that which you appear to me, with limits, of course. You would never mate with humans and produce offspring, nor would you be subject to their illnesses and injuries, and those who battle demon-kind can still destroy you, returning your essence to the Fifth Circle.’ He lowered his voice and seemed to be attempting kindness. ‘Nor do you have a mortal soul. Those beings whose memories you possess have travelled on to the place where they have been judged and are now on their path to the next state of existence, or have returned to the Wheel of Life for another turn.

      ‘In short, you will never truly be Miranda and Nakor. But you’re as close as any being will ever get.’

      Turning, he began to walk away. ‘Please, we must travel far and while time here is not measured as it is in the mortal realm, it is still passing and the longer you are away from Midkemia, the more the One’s Adversary stands to gain.’

      Pug and the others fell in next to Guide and Pug said, ‘Then I believe you had best tell us in your own fashion what it is we need to know, but could you begin with why we are here?’

      ‘That’s the simple part,’ said Guide. ‘You fell into a trap. The Adversary has been waiting a very long time to rid Midkemia of the four of you. To do it in one moment, that approaches genius.’

      ‘This Adversary you speak of,’ said Nakor. ‘Who or what is it?’

      The guide paused. ‘It will be easier if we wait on questions until I finish explaining to you what has befallen you. You are vital to what transpires, but still just a tiny part of the whole. To leap to attempting the larger picture might confuse.

      ‘You are stranded in a reality that is not your own, and have no easy means of returning. You are, not to put too fine a point on it, marooned here.’

      He kept walking and as the four companions glanced at one another, they hurried to keep up with his brisk pace. Pug overtook him in three strides and said, ‘If we are marooned, where are we going?’

      ‘To find one who may facilitate your release from this place.’

      ‘But I thought you said this world was naught but blight and desolation?’

      In a perfect duplication of Macros’s smile, Guide said, ‘This is true, but that doesn’t mean it’s unoccupied.’

      Pug considered that for a moment, but decided that among the thousands of questions demanding answers, the meaning of that riddle was one he could wait for.

      They forged across the bed of a long-absent sea. As they trudged across the rough channels and gullies, Miranda asked, ‘Why are we walking?’

      Guide said, ‘You have a better alternative?’

      With an all-too-familiar smug smile, she glanced at Pug, then vanished.

      A hundred yards ahead they heard her scream.

      Scrambling as best they could across the broken, sun-baked sands of the dry sea bottom, they reached her quickly, finding her sitting up, a look of confusion on her face as she held her hands to her temples.

      ‘That which you call magic,’ said Guide, ‘does not respond here as it would in your own world.’

      ‘But what of the protective spells we employed?’ asked Magnus.

      ‘Did it not occur to you that it was surprisingly easy to create those protections against this world’s energy states?’

      Magnus nodded. ‘Now that you mention it, it was easy.’

      Nakor chuckled as he and Pug helped Miranda to her feet. ‘Different energy states, my friends,’ said the bandy-legged little man. ‘If you light a small pot of oil, you get a flame to read by. If you refine and distil that same oil and light it, you get a really big, hot flame.’

      ‘In time you should be able to learn to temper your arts to transport yourself from place to place,’ said Guide. ‘But we do not have the time for you to learn. Rather, you do not have that time. So, we walk.’ With that he began walking again.

      Pug asked Miranda, ‘Are you all right?’

      ‘Besides feeling supremely foolish, yes.’ She glanced up and saw the concern in his eyes. ‘Sorry.’

      Pug felt conflicting urges to say different things at once, paused, then nodded.

      Time passed and they forged on. Guide provided illumination as they traversed the broken seabed. He created bridges as they crossed massive trenches in the former ocean’s floor, and seemingly kept them alive by some magic that rid them of need for food or water.

      But they did need to rest, even if only for short periods, while they regained strength rapidly in this high-energy-state universe.

      During one such rest, Pug asked, ‘Are we to know why you’re here?’

      Guide answered, ‘I am here as willed by One.’

      Pug couldn’t help but laugh. ‘When I was a Tsurani Great One on Kelewan, my every command was answered by “Your Will, Great One”, ah … for some reason this strikes me as humorous.’

      A great wave of sadness swept over Pug as he remembered Kelewan. Since his actions had destroyed that world and countless lives on it, he had effectively walled off the profoundly deep sorrow and guilt associated with that terrible decision. Yet from time to time, usually when he was alone, it would return to haunt him.

      ‘How are you able to keep hunger and thirst at bay for us?’ asked Nakor. ‘It’s a very good trick.’

      Guide shrugged. ‘The universe is aware, on many levels. My perceptions and knowledge are vastly different to your own. What I need to know, I know. What I do not know, I do not know.’ He shrugged. ‘You are mortals, and in need of food and water, so I provide such …’ He waved his hand as if the concept was alien to him and difficult to explain. ‘I just make it so, you are fed; you have drunk … what is needed.’ Then he opened his eyes slightly and said, ‘Ah, curiosity!’

      ‘You have none?’ asked Magnus.

      ‘I am created for a purpose,’ said Guide.

      Nakor laughed. ‘We all are.’

      ‘But my purpose is unique and short-lived. Once I start you on your way home, I will have completed my task and cease to exist