05.07.2005: Answers to reviews removed. See chapter 3 for reason.
Current Music: Subway to Sally – "Engelskrieger"
Disclaimer: You know the drill, aside from the in Chapter 5 mentioned Characters, none of them are mine...
CHAPTER 7
The man in Styric garb recovered slowly. "Belgarath," we finally replied wearily. "So you have given up as well. Welcome in the afterlife – it is a little different, but you'll get used to it. Come in, old friend."
He stepped back inside the house, holding the door open for them as they followed him inside the building. There, he motioned them to have a seat and said: "You must be hungry. I have a vegetable stew boiling on the fire – let me go and get you some bowls." His gaze stayed on Dorgatan for a few seconds, as if he wanted to tell the boy something, but then he decided against it, turned around and left for the kitchen.
Polgara turned to her father the moment he had stepped out of the room and whispered: "Father, are you sure this is Belmakor?"
Belgarath nodded. "I have known him for a very long time, Pol. What I am wondering about is how he managed to survive here since he left us – after all, his Will doesn't have the power to keep him alive indefinitely in this world..."
She pondered about this for a moment, then she replied: "Did you listen to him out there? He thinks you have willed yourself out of existence, like he did."
Her father did not manage to answer, as Belmakor came back, a wooden tray with steaming bowls of stew in hand. They ate in silence. Then, when they had finished and the bowls had been brought back into the kitchen, Belmakor, uncharacteristically meek, began the conversation.
"So, tell me, Belgarath, is the fight against Torak still going on?"
"Belmakor," Aldur's first disciple began.
"Please, no," Belmakor interrupted. "I have left the service of Aldur centuries ago, my friend. I do not deserve to be addressed that way anymore. Just 'Makor' will suffice."
Belgarath arched an eyebrow. Centuries ago? But he let the matter slide for the moment and continued. "Makor, Torak has been defeated and replaced by a kinder God of Angarak. Much has happened since you have parted from us, and all is well in the world now. May I introduce my daughter Polgara to you?"
Polgara got up and curtsied in front of the aged Melcene. "Charmed."
Makor's expression of weariness dissipated, to be replaced with confusion; obviously, he had not expected the words of Belgarath to be that positive. "But why did you commit suicide, and why did you take your daughter with you?"
Belgarath sighed. This was going to take a while. "We did not obliterate ourselves, Belm..., well, Makor. I have heard that it seems to be the most obvious way of getting here, but our being here actually has a different background..."
He began to tell the former disciple what had happened in their realm since he had decided to end his life, frequently interrupted by Polgara, who felt she had to set her father straight on some accounts. When Belgarath finally arrived at Aldur summoning him and his daughter to the cave with the mysterious gate of fire that had led them to this world, dawn was sparkling on the horizon, and Dorgatan had fallen asleep on a sack of grain next to them and snored quietly.
Makor seemed puzzled when his story ended. "How much time has passed in your world?", he asked his former brother in spirit.
"More than three thousand years, Makor", Belgarath answered, wondering how the Melcene would react.
But Makor only shrugged. "That explains how so much could have happened, I guess. Time between the two realms seems to be highly malleable – I have met people who claim to have come from time periods years after my departure, but they have been here years before me. Up to now, I never thought about it much, though; I gathered that I couldn't go back anyway, so it didn't matter anyway. I lead a mostly quiet life now, and I am content with it. In the three centuries I have been here, I have adopted Styric customs and beliefs, and I feel much at home."
Polgara, who had listened to his elaborations quietly, spoke up now. "Makor, you told us you have been here for three hundred years. Pardon my curiosity, but how did you survive that long? After all, you have been stripped of our kind of sorcery, just like we were. Are there Styric secrets that prolong life that effectively?"
Their host shook his head. "There are various kinds of secrets, but none of the ones I know have this effect. Convey Aldur my apologies, Polgara, but I have made a contract with one of the Younger Gods of Styricum – I serve as his priest in the Council of Styricum. In return, he grants me a prolonged life. It would not have been necessary, as the Gods also make contracts with other people than priests, but," and he began to smile, "He is a good God and a very nice fellow on top of that. When he asked me, I just couldn't refuse... We have a very close relationship to our Gods, you must know. Some of them live among us, and Tariel is one of them. This village consists of his Followers, and we have prospered since he incarnated in a local child shortly after my arrival. When his father, his last High Priest, and his mother died in a fire when he was just five years old, I took on the priesthood and the responsibility to bring him up."
Belgarath arched an eyebrow. "A Child God?" Makor shook his head again. "Not quite. If the Younger Gods decide to spend an extended amount of time with their Believers – for all Styrics believe in all thousand Younger Gods, just their preferred deity differs from village to village – their usual way to step among them is by incarnating into a locally born child. They grow up normally, although they realize their godhood all the time. Mostly, they are recognized as Gods by being wise far beyond their years. They can opt to stop their aging process, or continue to age until they die to free themselves from their mortal shells - each mortal life spent adds a facet to their personality, or so I'm told. There are Child Gods among the Younger Gods, but Tariel is not one of them. He happens to be the God of carpenters."
Belgarath smiled. Trust the Melcene, who favored architecture as a high art, to find himself a God that watched over house builders and the likes! At that point Dorgatan opened his eyes and rubbed them sleepily. Without a morning greeting, he grinned at Makor. "Have you guys explained enough to each other yet? I know that you want to tell them desperately, so go ahead!"
Makor's exasperated sigh didn't fully sound like good-natured mockery. "Dorgatan here actually is a God as well – the Messenger-God of Styricum."
Belgarath turned to stare at the grinning boy. "But you said the Gods would be angry with you if you bragged too much with the secrets you knew..."
Dorgatan shrugged. "It wasn't a lie – although your friend here would most likely tell you that I don't object to lying all that much. The others would indeed be vexed if I put on a show to impress mortals." His grin came back. "The question is: Do I care?" That comment sent the three adults into gales of laughter.
When they had calmed down, Belgarath addressed Makor once more. "Say, is it possible for you to teach us the secrets of Styricum? We believe that we might yet be able to make our way back into our world, but we will need the means to find out about this gateway and close it, so it won't cause the trouble Aldur fears it might be causing later on."
Makor thought about his request for a while and then replied slowly: "I am not entirely sure, Belgarath. The secrets work differently than the Will and the Word. While a great amount of the power used derives from yourself, an equal amount and more is provided by our Gods. Without permission from a God, I will not be able to heed your request. Furthermore, you have to know that you become followers of my God – at least nominally – as you learn and use the secrets. As long as you do not see a conflict between this and your service to Aldur, I am sure we can arrange something."
Polgara and Belgarath exchanged a glance. That surely was something to worry about! They thought about it in silence, and finally Polgara voiced her thoughts.
"I think Aldur would understand, father. After all, he does not exist in this realm. It is not as though we took our affection away from him. We can nominally follow one of the Younger Gods until we find a way to get home..."
When Belgarath nodded reluctantly, Dorgatan piped up: "Throw in a prayer here and there, and we have ourselves a contract!"
"Dorgatan!" Polgara and Makor, who had uttered the exclamation, glared at the boyish God – his proposal bore no piety whatsoever.
"Aw, come on, Makor," Dorgatan continued, all business and seemingly oblivious to their thoughts. "I found them first – and who knows how long it will take them to find what they are searching for? I guarantee them prolonged life and help in finding a way back to their original time period in exchange for a little worship. I don't need a priest – grandfather Galtan is taking care of business in Sarsos – but my followers are few and far between, and I'd like to earn myself a bigger voice among the Gods by having some more people to pray to me for help."
"Promise we don't have to pray aloud?", Belgarath asked. "Father!", his daughter exclaimed indignantly.
"Pol, you said it yourself. Aldur is going to let this slide; after all, he isn't here. I know him well enough to know that he won't be mad at us – and Dorgatan has mentioned some very valid points."
She held his gaze for a few minutes, then she averted her view. "All right, father, but YOU will explain all this to Aldur..."
"So I will, Pol." Belgarath didn't sound disturbed in the slightest. Turning to Dorgatan, he asked: "So, how is it, my boy – no loud prayers, and you'll keep us alive and try to help us to return to our world and time when everything is said and done?"
"Deal!", the boy exclaimed, jumping with joy for a few seconds. Then he realized what he was doing and stopped to look sheepishly at Makor. "That wasn't very dignified, was it?"
Makor smiled. "No, Godling, it wasn't – but that is quite all right. Will you stay and help me with the initial lessons?"
Dorgatan nodded. "That is why I came here with them. Before we left my village, I told Galtan I wanted to stay with them for a while, as I already guessed that they would need the help of one of us sooner or later in their quest. I will stay here with them, until they know everything we can teach them within reasonable time."
Their host sighed. "Somehow I had feared you would say something like that... well, let us begin."
Four months passed. Belgarath and Polgara proved to be apt pupils to their former brother in spirit and the Younger God. They picked up gestures and spells with the ease that came with centuries upon centuries of learning and contemplation, and when they got into the more complicated secrets, they spent some time to pick up a lot of the Styric language and the alphabet, so they would be able to read about more applications of secrets.
Finally one day, Makor looked at his charges and told them: "We are at a point where we have to part, my friends. Tariel has asked me to travel to Sarsos, where I will be engaged in the yearly routine discussions of the Thousand. It will be about half a year before I return. But don't worry – you will not be without help. Dorgatan has hinted that he will stay with you on your quest. I wish you good luck."
Belgarath looked at him questioningly. "Will you come back to our world with us, should we happen upon a way to go back?"
Makor shook his head. "My home is here now, Belgarath. Tell Aldur that I have always cherished the time I spent as his disciple in my heart, but my responsibilities lie in this village and the city of Sarsos. Aside from that: Who knows whether I could cope with your world as it is now?"
"You might be right," Belgarath was forced to acknowledge. "One last question, my friend: Do you know where we might start our research into this problem?"
Their host thought about this for a moment, then he replied: "I would try with Thalesia. This firy gateway does not sound like the work of a Younger God, and as the Elene Church is not in personal contact with their God, you might want to try and find a way to talk to the Troll Gods. They have been refusing contact with the Younger Gods for a while now – maybe they are up to something."
"Thank you, old boy," Belgarath answered gratefully.
The following morning, three horses set out from the house of the High Priest of Tariel, galloping north...
Looooong chapter! Hope it makes up for the fact that today it's only gonna be one chapter... gotta get up early tomorrow, so I won't be able to continue my li'l typing session for as long as I usually do...
But I hope that I did most of the explaining now, so we can slowly turn to the chapters where Belgarath and Polgara find out more about the phenomenon that brought them to Eosia, and where they finally meet some people from this world we already know and love... ;-)
Nevertheless, I hope that this chapter was not too dull! Drop me a line to let me know what you think!