Connections through Time

by Shall-Iin

Garion is the last survivor of his world. Charged to live until peace reigns. He's watched eons pass, and now longs for the Eternal Slumber. But only 1 thing can grant that desire. An object he gave up long ago, and which has now left this world: Once the

4. Chap 4

This story is a xover of David Eddings works of Belgariad/Mallorean and Elenium/Tamuli series. I love those books. I've read the 5 from Belgariad more then 30x each, and the Mallorean at least dozen times. And the Elenium/Tamuli books I've likely read nearly a dozen times each.

Just a recap: Pandions ask for Aphrael, Genidians ask for Hanka, Cyrinnics ask Romalic, and here, Alciones ask for Naslin. When I say ask, I mean pray/cast spells. Since in the E/T world, magic is done by the caster saying a prayer spell to ask the gods to do something for his use. Which words they use and which gestures are important, as they have to be framed in a certain manner for the Gods to consider doing what is asked of them. Unlike in B/M where the power is inside the person and they just need to have the belief that what they want to happen will happen. Then they pull in their Will (power) and so the Word (anything, no special words, just an aural cue to release the gathered Will) Gestures not needed, but done for extra effect on witnesses.

To answer a few reviews:

First Thank YOU ALL FOR REVIEWING AND READING. I can not express my thanks enough to any one who has read or reviewed my works, especially this one.

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"So how long will it take to get to Cimera?" Garion asked as he walked along the trotting horses. Though he gave the appearance of an easy, slow walk, he was moving fast enough to keep up with the horses and could have run easily beside them at full gallop.

"It's Cimmura." Tynian corrected idly, while glancing around the countryside. "And right now, we are about 3-4 days hard ride away. We want to make a stop at a little border town to drop off some of the heavy equipment and change horses. These are just light cavalry breeds, and we might well need more proper mounts on the trip. Plus, we don't need to haul all this equipment to Cimmura. The Pandions will have anything we might need, and aside from our armor and personal affects, we don't need to bring along the rest of this. There's enough stops along the way that we can spend the nights in inns or hostels and buy what food we might need. So no cooking or hunting, and no need to pack rations."

Ulath nodded, adjusting a loose strap on his pack. "There's a chapterhouse at the border town we are stopping at. We'll drop our stuff off, and they will send in with the next dispatch to Cimmura or to our homes. Probably send them home, since aside from the armor, we can get more cookware and such in Cimmura. Likely better quality too, since Sparhawk is the Prince Consort as well as the Preceptor."

"Huh. Married to that Queen Ehlana you told me about right? And they have a daughter, Danae." Garion had to sidestep a hole in the ground that the horses just went over. He debated shifting to his wolf form, but decided to wait until it was absolutely necessary.

"That's right. Danae would be about 14 now, right Ulath?" Tynian asked, pulling a piece of jerky from a small pouch. He passed the pouch to Ulath who also took a piece and then offered the pouch to Garion who declined.

"About that. And starting to scare Sparhawk with all the talk about marriage. I don't know who's more scared. Sparhawk, or Talen." the giant chuckled, once again reminding Garion of his long dead friend Barak.

"Talen? He's the thief who's in training as a Pandion?" Garion inquired, trying to get as much information and details about any potential allies in his quest.

"Yes, though for a while there, there was some question as to what Talen was going to do. He is remarkably talented, and no few people would have loved to have him as an apprentice. He had offers from the priesthood, merchants, artists, and even the leaders of various underworld governments. Thief guilds and the like."

"But his father and Sparhawk wanted him as a knight, and Talen decided he had to honor his father's wishes or face his mothers wrath."

"Kurik was a good man, but he had a weakness for a strong, full bodied woman. He had several children with his wife and Talen with his mistress. He was just lucky that both the women were tolerant and liked each other. After he died, Asline invited Talen's mother to come live on their farm, and so now the kids have two mother's to deal with. Though now, most have grown and moved to their own paths, a few still stay near the farm and help their mothers out."

Garion nodded, but was completely lost. He decided that the topic had been gone over enough. "Tell me more about the magic of the Styrics. I don't really understand what you mean when you say the spells are prayers."

Ulath finished the jerky in his mouth and took a swig from a canteen of water. "Well, it's relatively simple, even while being complex. Styric magic comes from the Gods, and the gods grant it only to those who can request for it in the proper manner. This includes forming the proper gestures as well as saying the correct words in the right sequence and tone. So for a simple spell, like this: " Ulath made a soft gesture with his hand and calmly said something in a language Garion didn't understand. The result was a small sphere of light floating several inches above his palm. The light looked pale in the daylight, but gave enough to cast away the few shadows it crossed as Ulath moved it around.

Garion studied the sphere. He had heard nothing during the casting of the spell, and felt very little coming from the sphere. "And what does that mean?"

"What it was, was a prayer to the God Hanka, who looks over the Genidians, to grant me light against the shadows surrounding me. At night, or in a cave, it would make it nearly as bright as day but out here, with the sun up and shinning, it isn't as impressive. But, each move of the gesture, " Ulath repeated the gesture. It started with a closed fist held near the chest; palm down and knuckles pointed to the side. You then circled in towards yourself and upwards, turning the fist and opening the fingers until you were palm up and fingers out away from you. "The gesture is a means of gathering the power Hanka would grant if he decides to listen to your request and gives a platform of control for the light. The words, loosely translated mean: Lord Hanka, grant me light against these shadowy forms." He closed his fist and the light vanished. "That's pretty much how it works. Every spell has a different gesture to go with the words, and changing either the phrasing or gesture even a little can cancel the spell, increase it's strength, or do something totally unexpected."

Tynian took up when Ulath paused. "Each of the orders has it's own ...teacher and prayer guide. Genidians gain their spells from Hanka, Cyrinnics from Romalic, Alciones from Naslin, and Pandions from Aphrael. And like every body else, the gods have different personalities and tolerances. Romalic for instance, is extremely formal and does not approve of any adaptations to the spells and magic that he's already accepted. Hanka is a bit more easy going and gives a lot of leeway in the wording and gestures. Naslin is a little freer with the gestures but demands strict adherence to the wording.

And Aphrael, well she'll listen so long as it's in Styric and she's taken a liking to you. Sparhawk doesn't even have to ask her, he just tells her what he wants, and she give shim the power to do it. See the power to do the spells comes from the Gods, but it's still the caster who creates the spell and it's effects. So when Ulath asked Hanka for a light against shadow, Hanka gave his access to his power, and Ulath created the form of the sphere using Hanka's power. He could have just as easily made a lantern, or a square or anything that gave off the light he wanted. If I had appealed to Naslin, I would have had to spell out not only why I wanted the power, but also exactly what and how I was going to use it.

So I would have had to tell him that I needed his power to create a sphere of light to brighten the area around me. With the Cyrinnics, they would have also had to explain how strong a light they needed and how long they needed it for. And the Pandions would have only had to say I need some light here, and Aphrael would have brightened the whole thing like midday until they told her they didn't need it anymore."

Garion nodded, feeling a little more clear regarding the subject. "So with your brand of magic, the power comes from the gods, but it still takes your will to shape it into the effect you want." Seeing them nod, Garion shook his head. "That's a lot different from the way my magic works. For us, the Power and the Will all comes from within ourselves. Each of us, who can perform magic, can only do as much as we are capable of handling. So I have more general 'power' then others like me, and as long as I have a strong enough will, I am stronger then another and can therefore do more.

And gestures are totally useless for us, but we still need to say a word. It doesn't matter what the word it, as long as it doesn't make us loose hold of what we want to do. We have to believe that something will happen because we want it to. So, for me, if I wanted that tree over there to fall over, all I would need to do was gather my power by concentrating on what I want done, then say a word to release my gathered Will. Fall." Garion stated, and the tree ripped from the ground with a thunderous crack and flew back to slam into the soft ground. "Oops. Used a little too much power there."

Ulath and Tynian exchanged amazed looks. They had never seen anything like it. While they could have duplicated the effects of Garion's demonstration, it would have taken a lengthy speech of Styric, and complicated gestures to perform. Garion had done it with apparent ease and in fact seemed annoyed at the results. It seemed he had only wanted to knock the tree over, not rip it out of the earth and send it flying more then twenty feet. And it wasn't like it was a small tree. The tree was huge, likely as thick across as Ulath's height. It no doubt weighed several tons and would have taken several hours of work with Ulath's axe or a lumber mill saw to cut through.

"Er, what exactly, can you do?" Tynian asked. "What's the limit? I mean, the gods grant us a lot of freedom, but there are things they just won't allow us to do."

Garion shrugged. "I don't really know my limits now. When I was about 15, I did raise a horse and my aunt's husband from the dead though. It was hard then, but I'm a lot more powerful now. I wouldn't want to try and bring the dead back, but I'm pretty sure I could easily do that. I could probably raise or level mountains and seas, wipe out entire forests, kill thousands with a single word. I'm a little rusty though. I haven't been a human often in recent years. I've spent most of the last 40 000 years or so as various animals, mostly a wolf or hawk. I can't even remember the last time I was human before yesterday."

Tynian and Ulath shared another look, this one filled with fear and worry. If their new friend was indeed as old and powerful as he claimed, as well as being something of an elder brother to their God, then what could they do to stop him should he turn out to have less then honorable intentions? As far as they knew the only thing powerful enough to cause the effects Garion described was the Bhelliom, which he was seeking and which Sparhawk had once wielded. But Bhelliom was gone, so even if Sparhawk had it and could use it against this man, he seemed to be a match in power for the living stone. Even the Styric gods could not singularly work the damage Garion described, though they doubted that there was nothing the Thousand couldn't accomplish when working together.

"That's truly amazing, Garion. I don't think any of the Thousand could do that on their own, and they are gods, despite what the church teaches." Ulath stated, wondering as he spoke if he should mention the disparity in power between Garion and the Styric gods.

Garion just shrugged while moving from between the horses to a little ahead. The trail narrowed ahead through a strand of trees and they would only be able to pass in single line formation. "Well, I don't know what your church teaches, but Eriond knows that other gods exists, so likely, there's been some confusion between what he's said and what your church leaders have heard. If your God ERND really is Eriond and I'm not just confused by the slight similarity in name and history. Which I doubt, since I have spoken to Eriond every now and then, though the last time I had any real conversation with him was about 6 or 7 thousand years ago. He's making no effort to mask his presence and I can feel him around though not enough to pinpoint his whereabouts. Mainly just that the strongest feel of him is in the general direction that you've pointed out as being the direction to Cimmura. I can't tell how close or far though."

"I wouldn't be surprised if He's felt you moving and has gone to Cimmura to wait for you. That's where Sparhawk is, and these sort of things usually end up involving him sooner or later, so even if you hadn't met up with us, I have no doubt you would have found your own way to Cimmura and Sparhawk eventually." Tynian said. He'd loosened his sword in the scabbard and signaled Ulath who had similarly loosened his ax. This part of the trail they were on was a good spot for an ambush, and after the events of the last day or so, it was best they be prepared. The good thing was that this trail opened onto the main trade road from Deira to Ehlania, so if they got through this part, chances where they were in the clear until the village of Uros on the border of the two countries. And once there, they could really begin their planned journey to Cimmura.

"Well, hopefully, they'll be able to help me find the Orb. I think that I'll need it. There's a dark power brewing, and from what those bandits said, it has something to do with the gods of my time." Garion stated missing the twin frowns on the faces of his companion knights. He was moving ahead of them on the path, which was remarkably well maintained for a forest path. While not up to the standards of the long forgotten Tolnedran highway, it was gravel paved and well used, unlike most of the secondary roads he'd traveled on in the years of his youthful journeys.

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Sparhawk was beginning to lose the awe and the near automatic sense of devotion that had filled him when he'd entered and met his God. A dark corner of his mind wondered if there was a problem with coming to see his God as something else. God had been regaling Sparhawk and Aphrael with tales of his birth and the times before his birth, going over a lot of the strange history of his 'brother'. He explained how the line of Riva split from the line of Cherek and the creation of the 4 kingdoms where once stood Aloria. He told of Garion's journey to discover his true destiny and face his fate at Cthol Murgos and of the terrible battle between the young boy-king and the insane god Torak. Sparhawk was enthralled by the story, noting several similarities to his own recent history in the telling. God was obviously a skilled storyteller and he got the sense that the role he'd taken for the church had stifled large parts of the seemingly young man's personality that he was now bringing to the forefront.

If he had not previously been exposed to Aphrael and the chaos that was the Thousand, he would likely have lost his mind at questioning anything regarding his God. He would never have believed that the Creator could seem so oddly normal, sitting crookedly on the pulpit throne, legs over the arm and leaning back while looking at the depiction of him on the ceiling. Or rather, if God was being truthful, looking at a depiction of HIS father, who had been somehow been combined with him as one being. Apparently, from what God had been saying, he had been one of 7 children of the Creator, UL. There had been some kind of accident that resulted in that mistake being given form in the god Torak when he, Eriond, should have been born. The mistake was corrected when this Garion killed Torak much like Sparhawk himself had killed Cyrgon and unmade Azash. Eriond had eventually risen to the role that was destined for him since the creation as God of mankind.

He'd just started ruling over his beloved people when another accident occurred, and somehow, a different set of gods was created. He'd adapted to the situation and sat back, knowing instinctively, that eventually, the time would come when Garion would again take up the Orb and correct the mistake. He'd waited and watched as various gods and lands came and went and noted a cycle. By the time the younger Gods of Styricum willed them self into existence, he'd made the pattern and managed to talk them into fighting when the Elder gods sought to destroy them. With his aid, they had been victorious, and he'd become aware of an absence that had clouded his mind. The Orb of Aldur was no more. Now there was only Bhelliom, the Blue-Rose. And Bhelliom was angry in much the way the Orb had been angered by Torak. He had known that Bhelliom was crafted and carved from the Orb and that the carving had caused it to feel pain. This forced the Orb's youthful essence to harden and mature into becoming the force Sparhawk had known.

Eriond had explained that the Orb had been like a child, playful and mischievous, but that the carving had matured it into the adult persona Sparhawk had known. He speculated that the persona Sparhawk had interacted with was the true essence of the being they called Bhelliom, but that in being trapped on this world during it's formation, its mind had been fractured and the playful essence had been all that remained. Until the pain of the carving awoke the true 'essence'. Ghwerig had awakened the true being of the jewel, and had been as obsessed with it as Torak had the plain Orb. And like Torak, the Orb had rejected Ghwerig's touch, especially after the troll had carved the stone into the shape of a rose.

"So this Orb of Aldur and Bhelliom are the same? And you think a 50 thousand-year-old man, who looks in his early to mid twenties, has been wandering the world looking for the stone? Which was really a super powerful force of nature trapped into the form of the stone during the creation of the world by all the iron dust that surrounded its essence? That one of these original gods, a son of the creator of the universe, found the stone and gently formed it into a perfect sphere. Only for the dwarf troll Ghwerig to come along some 60 plus thousand years later and damage the mind of the essence by carving it's physical form into a rose? Now, not only is this 50 thousand year old man seeking the stone, but a powerful enemy, one that not even the gods can identify or find, is seeking to stop the man from getting the stone, so that he/it can continue it's plan to take over the world?"

Eriond nodded, waving idly while conjuring an apple. They weren't as good as the once that had grown in the vale, but they were still quite tasty. "That's about it. Right now, I just wanted to let you know what was happening since you and Aphrael are the last people to really have contact with the Bhelliom. I know you released the essence into freedom, but with Garion's help, and a little boost from myself and some of the Thousand, you should be able to contact Bhelliom. I'm sure it would be happy to lend us aid, even if it doesn't want to be trapped again in the physical form, it should be able to reawaken your inherited powers. With a little training from Garion and myself, you would be able to handle nearly any challengers. Between you and Garion, you'll be powerful enough to fight off any of the elder gods, including the 7. The only being with near the power to defeat you would be UL himself, and I know He's not involved."

"But what about this Sardion you mentioned? Is it Klael in another form, or something else?"

Eriond sighed. "I don't know. Klael was ... Klael was the ultimate evil. He would make Torak look like a child. But the Sardion had a very different ... feel then Klael. I think that for once, the usual rules were reversed. I think that the Dark had split its main force into several smaller forces while the Light had created only 1 source of power. So while the Orb had it's opposite in the Sardion, and Bhelliom had its nemesis in Klael, Klael and Sardion were two different forces. The worst thing that could happen would be for Klael and Sardion to combine as one being. Unlike the Orb, Sardion wasn't all that intelligent. It was more powerful then Klael but had only a basic intelligence. It was a tool for more intelligent beings. Klael was and is quite smart. We might have defeated him here, but he has won countless battles against Bhelliom on countless worlds. If Klael were to somehow gain control of Sardion and entice the stone to give him its power he'd be unstoppable. And I have no doubt that he would return to win this world."

"We must not allow that to happen, Sparhawk." Aphrael stated. "No matter what else happens, we must find this new enemy and stop them before they are able to finish whatever it is they are planning. We must get Garion in touch with the Bhelliom, without his destroying us in his rage at learning of its fate. Garion could be our greatest ally, or a threat to the very fabric of reality, Sparhawk. He must be treated very carefully. He's wandered the world alone, in non-human form, for over 40 thousand years. You know what it's like to be isolated for long times from all meaningful contact with others. But you can't imagine how much worse it is in Garion's case. 2, 3 years is nothing when put against his 40 thousand. Even the most stable person will change after so long alone without any of his loved ones and no hope of seeing any of them again."

"So you think he might be unstable? That his isolation might have caused his mind to become diseased?" Sparhawk asked, suppressing a shudder at the reminder of the last time he'd had to deal with someone who was sick in the head. He still woke at nights sometimes recalling the horrible things he'd witnessed in the dungeons of Azash.

"No, or he wouldn't be as much of a threat as he could be." Eriond replied. "The brand of magic that he uses requires a very powerful will. The insane aren't able to concentrate on their will hard enough to be a threat. Garion might be a little focused though. Not insane in the normal definition, but completely stuck on the goal of getting the Orb back and ending his own existence. He likely wants nothing more then to rejoin his family, who have been dead for all these years. If you try to stop him outright from his goal, he'll just go through you, and quite honestly, there's nothing any of you or the Thousand could do to stop him. I might be able to, but that is not something that I want to see happen. To stop him, I'd almost have to cause more damage then would happen if I left him alone.

I'm not certain if he's powerful enough now to beat me in battle, but I've never really been a fighter, and he's been fighting for survival since he was a babe in his mother's arms. I might have more raw power, but I've never had to really use it in battle, except for a small portion of the battles between the Elder and Younger Styric Gods. And compared to what Garion's faced, those were less then training skirmishes. You would have a better chance of beating him in battle, though I doubt you have the power to do more then delay him."

"If he's so powerful, how come he's hidden himself away? And why didn't any of the Elder Gods or the Thousand know about him until recently?"

"Because he was not in human form. He's only been in human form for very short periods of time over the last 50 thousand years. For less then a year in total over all that time. The rest of the time he was in the guise of various beasts, living in the wild as one of them. When you take another form like that, you have a different ... aura then you do when in human form. The same where Aphrael might project the guise of a sweet little girl, but you and I both know she's a scoundrel and a thief."

"Hey!" exclaimed the goddess under discussion, not liking the characterization of herself as a scoundrel. She couldn't really object to being called a thief, since she was quite proud of that part of her talents.

"Don't worry, Aphrael dear. We love you any way." Eriond replied with an indulgent smile on his youngish face.

"So what can we do? We aren't strong enough to stop Garion, and you don't know of any force powerful enough to stop him, yet someone or something is trying to stop him from getting to what he wants. And what he wants no longer exists on this world. There's a hidden force trying to gain control of the entire world through the resurrection of belief in the 7 Gods of the Beginning Times. Gods who wouldn't take kindly to being used as a rallying point for whoever is behind this scheme. The only people you think could have done this are all dead or destroyed, either by myself in the last 15 years or so, or by this Garion more then 50 thousand years ago. How are we supposed to find out who is behind this if the only people capable of it have been dead for so long?"