“Slow down Will son,” says Charles. You’ve cornered him outside the study, almost grabbed him really. “What did you say.”
“Isaidwillyouhelpmechoosemysecondousiarch,” you repeat, running the words together breathlessly.
Charles blinks uncomprehendingly. “Choose?”
“That’s what Nash said,” you reply, slowing down. “You need to help me choose.”
“I’m not sure I understand son,” he says, confused. You realise that your enthusiasm might mean you aren’t making a lot of sense right now.
“Lemme tack to Charles Will,” says Nash, rolling up behind you. You practically ran back into the house while he followed along at a much slower pace. It’s only now that Nash has caught up with you.
You tap your foot impatiently as Nash explains everything to Charles. He is slow and infuriatingly thorough. As Nash spins out his exposition, Charles looks increasingly grave. He ushers both of you into the study and motions you to take a seat. “Looks like we’ve been a bit foolish,” he says, his voice laden with sadness.
“Yerl remember to ask me next time,” says Nash. It isn’t smugness in his voice, but rather a well placed confidence in his own abilities.
“I guess I will,” says Charles with a faint smile. He turns to face you as Nash excuses himself and leaves. “Now, as for you Will, this is all somewhat unprecedented. We… I should have seen better, but Nash is right – it is simply a matter of choice. In hindsight it should be obvious. In one of the dreams from your journal you did talk about wanting to be with all of the planets. Hindsight is twenty twenty son,” he sighs.
“It’s that simple,” you ask.
“Almost. I’ll be your guide,” says Charles evenly. He holds out his hands, palms facing up. Their surface is lined with age but they are still strong enough looking. “Put your hands in mine and we can begin.” You hesitantly reach forward, almost pulling away on instinct when Charles’ hands snap closed round your own.
Everything goes dark, but it is not pitch dark but rather the velvet darkness of the night sky: A darkness of wisp like textures and the infinite pin prick lights of the heavens. You look around, marvelling even as something massive and awe inspiring forms below you.
You look down at its magnificence and even as the clarion calls of the trumpets begin you recognise it. “This is Glundandra,” you say. “Wait a minute, I could choose Glundandra?” Your hands writhe and you feel Charles stiffen his grip on them.
When Charles replies, the confusion in his voice is evident. “You would do that? It’s a harder road than you might think. Why would you choose to walk it?”
You float over Glundandra’s triumphant halls as you consider your answer. It’s not about being in charge, because you’ve never cared for that, nor can you see yourself telling others what to do. Only when you are close to giving up does the answer present itself: “Because I want to be there for Rosalie,” you explain. “Like she’s been there for me.”
Charles laughs. It is the loudest and most natural laugh you’ve heard from him. “I guess you could choose Glundandra if you wanted son,” he replies. “But lets look at all your options before you decide.”
Charles leads you inwards, swinging in towards Arbol – the Sun – until the dry surface of Malacandra is beneath you. You watch as tiny, tiny figures scurry far below you, eking out their existence on its harsh surface.
“Malacandra would lend you some of its iron strength Will,” explains Charles his voice tinged with sadness. “You would become our knife, leaping from the shadows to strike down your enemies. Or from under the familiar face of a loved one,” he adds darkly. “I won’t pretend that it would be a pleasant life, but it Malacandra would help you bear its weight.”
The thought appeals, having the strength that Malacandra would give you. The idea of being a killer, less so. You don’t have long to consider it because Charles moves you on, pick up speed as you fall towards Arbol. Yet you have one more stop before you reach the sun, quicksilver Viritrilbia spins into view. The complex metal maze it presents both baffles and delights at once.
A thousand voices babble at once, yet you hear one above the others. “A powerful combination, Viritrilbia and Sulva. Take this one and you’ll be a peerless trickster, able to confound foes without a single shot being fired.”
The ability to out-Joe Joe. The smile stays on your face even once Viritrilbia has faded from view and the white hot heat of Arbol takes up half the sky. You raise your arm to shield your eyes, but such is Arbol’s strength you can almost make out the bones inside your flesh.
“This one’s a contradiction,” explains Charles. “Arbol, in part, represents the truth and Sulva, again in part, represents deceit. But who can spot the truth better than a consummate liar, and who can pull apart that one lie hidden in a nest of seeming better than someone well versed with the truth.”
There isn’t much time to reflect on that, as your journey pulls you away from Arbol and into the warm green foliage canopies of Perelandra. The verdant growth bursts with life and energy. “I know this one,” you say. “Sulva and Perelandra makes a muse.”
“Yes,” laughs Charles. “Sulva’s mirror allows you to both reflect and inspire. You’d have a powerful hold over people if you wanted it. But I think you know that already.” You blush hotly. Does he know about you and Frank?
Charles picks up speed as Arbol and Perelandra dwindle behind you. The lights of the stars around you blink out as they are obscured by the gothic splendour of Lurga – An endless maze of arches leading to inky blackness.
“Sulva’s mirror would be at work here too,” says Charles, and you can hear the shiver in his voice. “Who better to absolve a penitent of their sins than themselves?” You realise what he means. Margaret ground answers from you through sheer unrelenting pressure until you either realised the truth or succumbed under its weight. Ed will complain and argue until the truth arrives. If it were you? You could plunge directly into someone’s own memories and use what you found there. It is a chilling thought.
A weight lifts from your shoulders as you tear free from Lurga’s heavy cloisters. You roll about and glory in the freedom of space until you once again find your way to a planet. A mirror smooth ocean covers everything from horizon to horizon, hiding everything in its depths. You know you have arrived at Eldibria.
Banks of mist move serenely across the water as Charles speaks. “Eldibria would show you secrets Will son, and no one can keep a secret better than Sulva. If you chose it as your ousiarch you would become our spy – the one that infiltrates cults and lays the ground for the rest of us to follow. It would be a dangerous and lonely place to be though Will, and Eldibria does not grant you resilience like Malacandra does.”
You think of Rick and remember the story he told you at Margaret’s wake. Eldibria is harsh on those it shares its secrets with and the prospect does not thrill. You are glad to see Eldibria vanish behind you as you shoot further and further away from Arbol.
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