Adon Zek - Epilogue
To the unknown historian with whom I met once before my adventure began, greetings.
I had a lot of things that I might have told you, a lot of speculation that I believed to be true at the time. But my investigations into this matter are inconclusive.
Whether Kurex and I had met; when, where, and how. These I do not know. I am searching for the answers, but it may be rather a long time before I find anything concrete. I could have sworn I had never visited Mote before I met you, but the signs are so confused.
How else could he possibly have known? ‘Master Zek’ he called me. Master! He knew that I was a master, he knew, somehow, impossibly, that I have trained magicians. But he is not who I believed him to be at the time; that I know for certain. Who he is? I still cannot fathom it. But, regardless, I had to retreat. I believe that not even all my power could have been enough to save me on that Mote of a world.
Everything was so chaotic; the layers upon layers of magic were too strong to control. It felt at times as though we were subject to the whims of fate; no matter our skill, anything might go horribly wrong.
So I fled. I took the amulet and said the incantation . . . and still died. Something about the chaotic magic of Mote must have interfered with the teleportation, because it took a few minutes too long to activate.
It wasn’t anything so tragic as you might fear, though; death in my homeworld isn’t nearly as permanent as in Mote, and I do still carry my resurrection trust fund membership card. Hey, I never thought it was a good idea for them to sell ‘multi-lifetime membership’ for a resurrection fund, but who am I to argue?
It wasn’t long before a fellow adventurer came along, found my scorched corpse and, searching it for valuables no doubt, found the card. After that he just took me to the nearest healer. I gave him a hefty bonus for his good deed, on the condition that he never told anyone. I mean, over two thousand years I’ve been traveling and I haven’t died that badly in centuries! It’s humiliating.
Anyway: after wrestling a few dragons to get back in shape and prove I hadn’t lost my touch, I went back to the worldtower to see what had happened back in Mote. Kurex searched the ashes where I had fallen; I’m still not sure what that guy’s problem is. I recall mentioning to you the rumors that he was unstable, and my belief that he was quite normal. Well, I’m pretty sure you can put him back into the ‘unhinged’ category.
It’s so hard to believe I was wrong about him being a former apprentice out for revenge, but it just doesn’t fit with what I know now. That man is a mystery to me, and one on whom I intend to keep a close eye.
In any event, I apologize for the rambling. I tend to get that way after dying. I just wanted to assure you that I’m going quite well, though I doubt you’ll ever see me again. I don’t particularly want to brave the perils of that chaotic, overpowering magic again. I do not fear it, but my time is really too important to waste trying to push back into a world that clearly doesn’t appreciate my presence.
At least for now...
So farewell to you, nameless historian. I wish you well.
-Adon Zek
I had a lot of things that I might have told you, a lot of speculation that I believed to be true at the time. But my investigations into this matter are inconclusive.
Whether Kurex and I had met; when, where, and how. These I do not know. I am searching for the answers, but it may be rather a long time before I find anything concrete. I could have sworn I had never visited Mote before I met you, but the signs are so confused.
How else could he possibly have known? ‘Master Zek’ he called me. Master! He knew that I was a master, he knew, somehow, impossibly, that I have trained magicians. But he is not who I believed him to be at the time; that I know for certain. Who he is? I still cannot fathom it. But, regardless, I had to retreat. I believe that not even all my power could have been enough to save me on that Mote of a world.
Everything was so chaotic; the layers upon layers of magic were too strong to control. It felt at times as though we were subject to the whims of fate; no matter our skill, anything might go horribly wrong.
So I fled. I took the amulet and said the incantation . . . and still died. Something about the chaotic magic of Mote must have interfered with the teleportation, because it took a few minutes too long to activate.
It wasn’t anything so tragic as you might fear, though; death in my homeworld isn’t nearly as permanent as in Mote, and I do still carry my resurrection trust fund membership card. Hey, I never thought it was a good idea for them to sell ‘multi-lifetime membership’ for a resurrection fund, but who am I to argue?
It wasn’t long before a fellow adventurer came along, found my scorched corpse and, searching it for valuables no doubt, found the card. After that he just took me to the nearest healer. I gave him a hefty bonus for his good deed, on the condition that he never told anyone. I mean, over two thousand years I’ve been traveling and I haven’t died that badly in centuries! It’s humiliating.
Anyway: after wrestling a few dragons to get back in shape and prove I hadn’t lost my touch, I went back to the worldtower to see what had happened back in Mote. Kurex searched the ashes where I had fallen; I’m still not sure what that guy’s problem is. I recall mentioning to you the rumors that he was unstable, and my belief that he was quite normal. Well, I’m pretty sure you can put him back into the ‘unhinged’ category.
It’s so hard to believe I was wrong about him being a former apprentice out for revenge, but it just doesn’t fit with what I know now. That man is a mystery to me, and one on whom I intend to keep a close eye.
In any event, I apologize for the rambling. I tend to get that way after dying. I just wanted to assure you that I’m going quite well, though I doubt you’ll ever see me again. I don’t particularly want to brave the perils of that chaotic, overpowering magic again. I do not fear it, but my time is really too important to waste trying to push back into a world that clearly doesn’t appreciate my presence.
At least for now...
So farewell to you, nameless historian. I wish you well.
-Adon Zek