{"sf1_id":737955,"sf2_id":null,"title":"The Last Words of a Dying Man","author":"StGeorgesHorse","words":5996,"posted_at":"2014-08-01T14:12:00.000Z","tags":["Assassin","Beauty","Defiance","Human-Only","Love","Love at first sight","M/F","Mage","age","fate"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/737955-the-last-words-of-a-dying-man","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/view/737955","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=737955\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"#12 of Miscellany\n\nThis story doesn't fit into any category and is a single, stand alone tale. It was a five hour writing exercise. My head is swimming and I'm going to go to bed now.","content":"                When they\nfound the body, more of a skeleton really, it had for ages laid there, slumped\nover the old wooden desk, the tissues having long ago ran as nature intended;\ningraining themselves into the hardwood top.                 It was a miracle\nthat the ancient tome that sat atop it had survived unscathed. Perhaps the\nowner of it had known his end was near and had wisely placed it upon the lesser\nbooks of knowledge.                The pages were\nstiff and strong in this book, obviously a sign that it was meant to last the\nages. How long the body and tome had lain to rest here were questions of\ndebate, but no one argued that it was decades or more. The dust alone told of\nthe great passage of time.                It was the last\npages of that great book that drew immediate interest, as they were the last\nones to be written. Instead of being arcane and mystical, they seemed to be\nmore of a diary. They went like this.            When\nyou've reached my age, you know you'll always look back on the things you should\nhave, or could have, or even would have done. It's stupid but we will all do\nit. You can't change the past. You only change now. Even the future can't\nreally be changed, as it hasn't happened yet. When it becomes the present, you\nhave a narrow window in which to perform your great feats. After that, it's\nhistory and your chance is gone.            I have killed; in the names of kings\nand queens and princes. I have loved; from common girls to the most royal of\nprincesses. I have lain with kings and concubines and warriors and field hands.\nThey are all my brothers and sisters and I treated them all the same. A king is\nno greater than his subjects and a milk maid no less lovely than a princess.            There is no greater enemy to the\nworld than hate, and no greater ally than love. They are two sides to the same\ncoin, if you will, and the fates may flip it to see where it will land. It is\nwhy a great love can, overnight, be an equal cauldron of hatred in the morn.            I will be dying soon. After four\nhundred and seventy three years, even the strongest soul wishes for release. I\nhave devoted my waning years to the full study of magic and sorcery, looking\nfor some way of undoing the worst of my past failures. What I have learned, as\nI have said above, is that what is done is done.             So instead allow me to document for\nyou my greatest success. It did not initially involve magic, spells or incantations,\nthough I have discovered the hard way that errors involving the occult can be disastrous.\nNor is it a matter of living so very long. That is certainly a mistake, though\nnot one of my doing. The gods who created us gave us each our own span, and the\nnumber of days they have allotted us should never be lengthened or shortened.            My long life, I would like to\nbelieve, has in many ways helped to compensate for those lives I ended\nprematurely. I have tried to live an honest life where they could not. But\nstill, this is not a failure on my part. I consider it a triumph. There is a\ncertain amount of recompense in my continued existence. Who else could claim\nsuch compassion as to suffer for the wrongs they themselves have committed?             I tell you that there are none. What\nI regret has nothing to do with the world at large, nor the problems of most petty\nrulers, or of wily generals and simple soldiers, nor of merchants and slavers.\nKnowing what I learned at the moment of my most difficult decision, I would\nhave destroyed them all to have the very thing that I so loved. For never in my\nlife had I ever known the depths of that emotion.            My time in bed with so many; male\nand female alike, caused me to grow numb to the finer points of it; the art of love.\nAfter the first hundred years and several thousand bed mates, faces and bodies\nbegan to roll into one. But now, in my mind's eye, I can see only one. She was\nnever supposed to live, much less lay a claim on my heart. That was a trick of\nthe fates, may they be damned forever. Never was my life supposed to get caught\nupon such a snag. But there was never such a beautiful snag as Lobellia.            Yes, it was my duty to kill her.\nSince I am assuming that someone will read this in the future, I will tell you\nhow this failed to happened. It may help you to understand your history a\nlittle better. Death is no stranger to life; as evil is to good, death is the\nflip side, the ultimate result of life. You cannot have one without the other.\nI have lived my life, so I welcome death with open arms.            I never considered myself either good\nor bad. One man's good work is another man's evil deed. If you don't believe\nme, then you need to go back and study your religions. Trust me when I say that\neverything I did, I did for what I considered the greater good. Killing one\ndespot to save a thousand people was worth the cost to my soul.            But poor Lobellia. Where did she fit\nin? How could one single woman fit so well into the scheme of things that it\ncould cost her her life? It was uncanny. I did not realize until too late the\nfool I was, being played like a pawn in a game that was far greater than my\nlimited intellect could ever comprehend. She had to die because of nothing she\ndid, nor anything she would ever be aware of until the last possible moment.            That was the cruel twist you see. If\nshe had never met me, none of this would ever have happened. It wasn't as if we\nmight have rubbed elbows in the marketplace, or caught each other's eye at the\ntheatre. We were a mountain range apart. These things didn't matter to me. I\ntook the hit as I did any other. It was a job, and the reason for taking her\nout was made clear by the oracles. She would bear a son who would either rule\nthe world or destroy it. The first we could live with. The second alternative\nremarkably enough, was frowned upon by all who heard it.            My fee for any assassination was\nforty pieces of gold, twenty up front and twenty when I returned with proof\nthat I had accomplished my goal. On top of that, I charged for the distance I\nhad to travel, and the terrain I had to cover. This one was costing the\nsoothsayer's guild a cool two hundred gold coins. I assumed they were taking\ntheir oracle's prediction to heart.            You may ask why we wouldn't rejoice\nin having a benevolent ruler to guide us. You see, we already had one. He was,\nthey say, kind and generous, always looking out for the people. I never saw\nhim, nor did anyone else. He had ascended the throne decades ago and few were\nprivy to his chambers. The rules he passed down were just, giving equality to\nrich and poor alike. Prisons were echoing from the lack of occupants. His laws\ngave swift justice. Either you did penance for your sins or you hung by the\nneck. Most found penance to be no bad thing. The rest served as warnings to\nthose who contemplated evil doings.            A newer, kinder king to appear and\nreplace him would be something to celebrate, but a despot that would destroy\nall that he had built up was worse than death. No one liked having their\nfreedom and tranquility taken away. So this woman must die before she could\ngive birth. The chances of the babe growing up to be one or the other were far\ntoo great. There was no certain way of tipping the scales to the side of good.\nGoing to the darker side always seemed easier.            I headed off, my weapons and books\nof spells packed securely in my bags or hidden in my cloak. There were plenty\nof good assassins out there who didn't know magic, but I liked having every\nadvantage at my disposal. The trip to Averdon was uneventful. I killed several\nbandits and a murderous soldier along the way, mostly to give warning to those\nin the area that I was not to be waylaid, else the consequences would be dire.\nAs I had a distinct mark I left behind, the word spread quickly.             When I reach the city over the\nmountains, I secured a room in the lowliest inn the city could offer. There was\nno point in wasting money on good lodgings. Comfort was rarely something that\nconcerned me. All I really needed was a base of operations until my mission was\ncarried out. Then I would be gone. That might be a day, a week or a month. I\nhad no idea where to find this woman. After all, the city only had forty\nthousand residents.            Knowing full well that the best\nplace for information was where tongues were the loosest, I made my way to a\ntavern on the main square of the city. Here eight streets came together at a\ncircle, the center of which was the Temple of the Eternal Fires.            Now days, the Sacred Fire is an\nobscure cult. Back then, in its heyday, it was the prime religion of this\nregion. To me, it summed up religion in general. No matter what its tenets were,\nsomeone always got burned by it.            I chose the most attractive of the\ndrinking establishments. Whereas I cared naught for my sleeping arrangements, I\ncared very much about my drink. I sat down in the corner with a mug of ale and\nwatched the comings and goings with interest. I finally attracted the attention\nof a large boorish man with red cheeks and a nose to match. Without asking, I learned\nhis name was Taburnus.            As it turns out, he was a mid-level\npolitician. It might account for his lack of friends and the chronic red veined\nskin that was a sign of over indulging in alcohol. He was fat and ugly, which I'm\nsure didn't help, and he had a vulgar tongue to boot. Feigning interest in his\nlife, I allowed him to prattle on for an hour before I held up my hand.            \"This is all well and good my\nfriend, but might I ask you a question?\"            He blinked his heavy lidded eyes and\nnodded. I nodded in return, sort of a thank you, and asked, \"Do you know of any\nwoman who goes by the name of Lobellia?\" It was an insane question. There might\ntwo or three hundred women by that name, or there might be only one. Either\nway, why would this sot know of any? His looks would turn off everything but a\nwarthog or a troll.            He smiled a little, spilling drool\nfrom the corner of his mouth. \"Lobellia? Yeah, I know a Lobellia. Everyone is\nlooking for her.\"            My heart raced. Apparently the bone\nthrowers and the tea leaf readers and the tarot card dealers had reached the\nsame conclusion. I never considered that I might have competition for this hit.\nKilling her was obviously going to benefit more than just my region. The\npresent ruler oversaw the lands for leagues and leagues. Still, I wasn't altruistic. If someone else\nkilled her, there would go my fee. I hated forfeiting my money. I had been\nknown to kill the killer just to save face. Call it pride if you will, but I\nwill make no apologies. I was killing a killer and the same might happen to me\none day.            \"Why is this woman, assuming she is the\none who I am looking for, so popular?\" I leaned in despite his awful breath.            \"My friend, you are showing your\nlack of citizenship to my fair city. Lobellia is the most beautiful of flowers\nthat has ever bloomed on the soil here.\"            \"Good enough. Where might I find\nher?\" I was already worrying that I may have been too late. A woman of such\nlooks would have hundreds of men slavering after her. She might have a dozen\nchildren, any one of which, if male, might be the one the prophesy spoke of.            The man laughed, spilling beer and\nspittle out of his grotesque mouth. \"Find her? Why? You'll have no chance with\nher, any more than I would. Even the grand vizier must keep his distance.\"            I smiled and mumbled a spell of\nsexual impotence on this quivering blob of flesh. \"Be that as it may, I would\nstill like to look upon her before I leave your fair city. Would this be too\nmuch to ask?\"            He sobered up for a moment. \"Well\nspoken stranger. You have not far to go. She is one of the Guardians of the\nFire.\"            I sighed, as you might imagine. That\nmeant that I was going to have to gain entrance to the temple to kill her. The\nGuardians were all, as the reports went, virgins whose only purpose was the\nkeeping of the Sacred Flame. Sacred Flame! Like any hearth fire was any less\ndivine than the stuff they kept lit in there. Fire was fire. A person might be\nsmart, but people in general were stupid and gullible.            \"Is that so? Then I must pay my tab,\norder another round for you, and be on my way.\" I gave his a cursory nod and\nafter tending to business, left.            The streets were crowded with carts\nand horse, stalls and vendors, and plenty of people who ranged from lunatics to\nthieves. That is to say, politicians. There were plenty of ordinary people as\nwell. I might be saving their lives, or the lives of their children. And they\nwould never know of it, or of me.             Even here, despite the mountain\nrange, the rule of our leader held sway. So despite the throngs and the\ntemptations for doing evil, few made a show of it. Death was as real here as it\nwas where I came from. An honest living might be less profitable, but it was\ncertainly safer. It was strange how I was doing both. Killing was repugnant\neven when the object of its undertaking was just. I was committing a crime to\nbenefit the world. It was a good thing that my morals were not as well\nconstructed as most.             Getting into the temple proved\neasier than I expected. People flowed in, lit a piece of fragrant wood and then\nplaced the glowing embers into a little silver or gold box to carry home. In\nthis way, they could light the hearth or the lamp with it, bringing with them\nthe value and the might of the Sacred Flame. Which, in the eyes of a mage and\ncynic like me, meant as much as calling a pile of dung a royal feast.             There were a dozen or so woman\ndressed in purple robes that stood at attention, keeping a solid eye on the\ncrowd. The only obvious thing they did was pour oil into the braziers to keep\nthem burning. That hardly took so many, but every circus needed to have a show.\nAnd that was when I saw her. If this was a circus, she was the ringmaster for\ncertain.            That old sot at the tavern was\nright. She was a beauty beyond the measure of man. If she had stepped outside,\nthe sun would have dimmed in her presence. I was grateful that she was here, in\nthis service, for her position kept her away from males. Then I reconsidered.\nSupposed to keep here away from males was more accurate. Someone might find a\nway of coercing or wooing such a lady.            I had a perfect view of her. I stood\nto one side, allowing the people to pass me by and back out again. I had a\nclear shot, though I felt a pang of guilt at the thought of extinguishing such\na thing of beauty from the face of the earth. It would be as if I were to\ndestroy a painted masterpiece for no other reason than to keep it from being\nstolen. It was going to be a terrible waste.            Then it happened. Her eyes met mine.\nIt was bad, being noticed by your victim. Worse yet, I found that I couldn't\nunlock my eyes from hers. She was most definitely a keeper of the flame, for I\nfelt the heat inside me rise. She smiled, a lovely upwards curve of the mouth\nthat turned my world upside down. I put my dagger away. I had a different\nweapon that was stirring to life.            They say that there is such a thing\nas love at first sight. After having a hundred years under my belt, and having\nnever felt more than the biological urges that came with sexual encounters, I\nwas feeling overwhelmed. It was like the electricity in the clouds had finally\nmatched up with the electricity in the earth. It connected with spectacular\nresults.             I had never felt this way before,\nand I followed my heart and fled the temple. Fear was a wise emotion, and\nthough I had nothing to fear from this lovely creature, the state of my mind\nand heart were in disarray. That in itself was enough to evoke fear within me.\nI returned to the tavern. My friend from earlier was asleep, drunk out of his gourd,\nsnoring at the table. I sat down, ordered a bottle of the best spirits, and\ndrank it until I too was insensible.            This job had suddenly gotten\ncomplicated. She had a face that a sculptor might try his entire life to\naccurately recreate. She was as pale as marble, as smooth as polished\nalabaster, and as lovely as any flower the gods could create. She was heaven on\nearth, a divine sight meant only for the chastest of eyes and the cleanest of\nsouls.            I was neither.            I soon convinced myself that the\noracles were either wrong or... No, they had to be wrong. The Guardians gave\ntheir life to their duties, no matter how much I might scoff at their beliefs. They\nbelieved that what they did was integral to the survival of their people. They\nwould do nothing to disrupt their daily routine. I doubted you find a more\nmisguided bunch of people who took their jobs more seriously.            After a suitable amount of mulling\nthings over, I cast a spell, restoring a bit of sense of sobriety to my state.\nI hated giving up the money, but I couldn't kill this woman. Hell, she hardly\nlooked old enough to be called a woman. The temple was dark, lit mostly by the\nmany flickering lights, but it was evident to see that she not only had beauty,\nshe had youth.  I would take away\nneither. It simply wasn't my right.            I made my way back to the dump that\nwas my quarters. I lay on the cot and waited for the rest of the liquor to burn\noff before I packed up and left. To hell with future seers, oracles and\nforecasters. As far as I was concerned, the future held whatever we fed into\nit. The past was the only place that time and events were fixed. Once it was done,\nthere was no changing it.            I closed my eyes and saw that face\nagain. It was as if I had stared at the sun and had that afterimage burned into\nmy retinas. I tried to drive the image out of my mind to no avail. It was\nlocked in as tightly as any prisoner in the impregnable dungeons of Alger'on.\nAfter nearly a hour, during which I fell asleep at some point, that image was\nstill floating in my brain. I sighed, stretched and opened my eyes, ready to\nleave.            Even in my waking state that face\nwas still hovering over me. That was when I reached for my dagger. The face I\nwas staring at was all too real.            The eyes held curiosity. They were,\nnow that I could clearly see them, as blue as the oceans of Maherietta. Her\nskin was as white as that fabled coast's beaches. Of her hair I could not say,\nfor it was concealed beneath the hood of her robes. My hand stopped questing\nfor the knife.            She said nothing at first. Her hand\ncame out and caressed my face. Fire ran through me. She felt me shudder and\nsmiled.            \"You are here to kill me, are you\nnot?\"            I nodded.            \"But you left without doing so.\nWhy?\"            I felt it was a fool's question. \"I\ndid not, because I could not.\"            \"An honest answer. Your coming was\nforetold. They said that you would kill me, and that I must not fight my death.\nBut you did not kill me. Who are you that you defy the future?\"            She spoke so calmly of her own\ndeath. Few kings and princes could carry on with such courage as she had.            \"I do as I will. When I left for the\ntemple, I saw fit that you should die without ever laying eyes on you. Now that\nI have seen you, I feel that I would deprive the world of a great treasure.\"            \"A treasure am I? Would you count me\nas you would gold, silver and jewels?            \"You are beyond tally. All of the\nhordes of bounty that belongs to the old eight kingdoms would still not compare\nto one fingernail of your left hand.\"            She leaned back and watched me for a\nmoment. \"Few men speak the truth, especially the truth that governs their\nhearts. They would say whatever they felt needed to be said to acquire their\ngoal. You speak as one besotted by feelings of love and compassion.\"            I choked. \"That would only be\npossible if I had such feelings. I came to do a job, and now I leave because\ndoing so would be repugnant to me.\"            \"But do you find me repugnant?\"            \"No milady.\"            \"No milady? I am not your lady, sir.\nWhat is your name?\"            \"I have many names milady. You may\ncall me Rastrel.\"            \"Well, Rastrel, I am at loose ends.\nI am expecting to die, and you have not killed me. So what am I supposed to do?\nI cannot live longer than my expected years, and the prediction was that I\nwouldn't live long enough to see this winter.\"            I didn't know what she expected of me.\nAll I could do was stare into that lovely face and come to grips with reality.\nI knew that no matter what I tried to do, killing her was no longer an option.\nMy heart was beating like a coca eater's after a three day binge. I said a\nspell to slow it down, to no effect.            She sat down on the edge of the cot.\n\"Rastrel, you must kill me. I sense that you are no fool. To defy the fates is\nto bring down destruction on our heads.\"            I jumped up, finding that such close\nproximity to her was making me nervous. \"Milady, I care not a whim for the\nfates. They are cruel masters who have only their own agenda's to look to.\"            \"Mayhaps, my handsome killer, but I\nhave been waiting for this day for several years now. Did you think I wouldn't\nrecognize my death when I saw it?\"            \"But I refuse to carry out your\nexecution!\"            \"Yes, I see that. I have no idea\nwhat the backlash will be. Something tells me that if you don't carry out what\nyou have promised to do, the fates will wreck havoc on this world.\"            \"Then so be it!\" I said defiantly.\n\"Let them do their worst!\"            She put her hand on mine. \"You are\nbrave to speak such things. Since I am fated to not see the coming winter, I\nwill obviously die regardless of it being your hand or some other's. So might I\nask a favor?\"            I was feeling hot. It was weird,\nsince I was shaking like I had a chill. My teeth were chattering enough to make\nmy gums hurt. \"Anything within my power!\"            \"Promise?\"            \"I promise!\"            She let go of my hand and removed her\nrobe. She had on a silky, see-through silk dress underneath. The dress soon\nsuccumbed to gravity and hit the floor, carried by the golden clasp. She was\nstanding there perfectly naked, but in my eyes, she was perfection in her\nnakedness. I have seen hundreds upon hundreds of bodies, and never did one fill\nthe bill as the penultimate culmination of perfection like hers did. The only\nthing that could make it better was in making her mine.            She was pale, as I have already\nremarked. She spent her life indoors, that much was certain. She had pink lips\nand pink nipples, the latter of which sat atop perfect mounds of firm flesh.\nHer skin was a maze of fine back lines, tattoos inked, stenciled on over her\nyears as an acolyte. They made no sense and no pattern other than to accentuate\nher body's natural form. It was art on top of art. Despite her obvious\nintentions, I had to ask;            \"What is it you want?\"            She smiled again. That heat flared\nup inside me again, threatening to consume me. \"Oh, don't be coy! I have every\nconfidence that you know what I want. If I am to die, I should at least be\nexpected to enjoy the slightest little taste of life before that happens. Why\nelse would I have been given warning if not to have a chance at experiencing the\npleasure of the flesh?\"            I was studiously examining her hair,\ntrying for the moment to get the notion out of my head that she wanted to be\nbedded. He long braided tresses were nearly as white as she was, being platinum\nor silver, depending on how the light struck it. It was natural and not\nbleached, unless she went so far as to do the other patch, that which grew\nbelow her belly. It was possible, for I knew harlots that went far to please\ntheir customers. But she had no one to please. Until now.            \"You want me to be the cause of the\nbreaking of your vows?\"            She laughed, a sweet, clear sound\nthat lightened the atmosphere of the dingy room. \"I am to die, murdered by\nsomeone's hand before the end of this year, and you worry about my vows? You\nare a strange man, Restrel.\"            She had a point. The only thing\nworse for her than dying would be dying a virgin. I began stripping off my\nclothing. She nodded with determined approval. It was weird how I suddenly\nbecame shy in front of her, after all of the times I had paraded around like a\nprize stallion in a field full of mares. But one part of me remained proud and\ntall. She stared at it with great curiosity.            \"So that is the male organ? It makes\nsense I suppose. Is yours of normal size?\"            I found my words. \"Milady will find\nit of the right size to please her in many ways.\"            \"I'll hold you to that Restrel!\"            And she did. I'll not dwell on the\neffects of our bodies merging. A lady's first time is oft times painful and\nmessy. That men put so much pride in deflowering a maiden is beyond me. That we\nlit a fire of passion that dwarfed anything she had ever accomplished in the\ntemple was obvious on the face of it, as well as on the breasts, buttocks and\neverything in between.            In those moments, the memory of\nevery other person that I had ever lain with melted into an unrecognizable\npuddle. Faces ran and smeared, experiences dissolved, and I knew that I had\nfallen terribly in love. And yet, in the back of my mind, I knew that she was\ndoomed. I would give my own life to save hers, if I could, but between the\npredictions the oracles had made, as confirmed by her own statements, I knew\nthat she would never live out the year. One way or another, she would be dead.            Still, I was determined to do my\nbest. I married her in a ceremony performed by a priest of the Cult of Nodalla.\nIt meant nothing to me, but I did it to please her and to show the fates that I\nplanned on shoving their will right back up their asses. Not only would I not kill\nher, I would protect her with all my might. That was no small thing.            It soon became obvious that my\nstrength was not going to be enough. Other assassins came. Fire erupted out of\nthin air. Rocks fell from the sky. Deadly snakes made their way into sealed\nrooms. They were determined that she would not live out the year. I was simply\nnot going to be allowed to fail at my original mission. I had a feeling that\neven if I managed to keep her safe past the stroke of midnight on the last day of\nthe year, the fates would destroy the whole world in retaliation for my\ndefiance.            We agreed that this was not\nacceptable. I devised a plan. I hated it, almost as much as she did. It was an\nimperfect plan, but what plan of any man could ever be more?            We made love one last time. It was\nlong and it was sweet and I wanted it to never end. But all things do. I\nprepared my spells, the combination of which had never before been attempted. I\nfigured if we died, the world would go on like nothing had happened. If I\nsucceeded, then again, the world would go on like nothing happened. The only\nthing was, if I was successful, then I would at least have saved the life of\nthe only woman I ever truly loved.             At\nthis point in the book the ink trailed off into a smear. The man, perhaps too\nweak to continue, had let the quill fall to the wayside. But investigation\nshowed that this was not true. After flipping past a few plank pages of vellum,\nthe writing returned. Their best guess was that he had tired, and upon opening\nthe book again, accidently skipped past his last scribbled passages.  From the shakiness of the penmanship, it was\napparent that he was losing his strength.                             She had to die. Well, we all die\neventually. The fates decreed that she wouldn't live out the year and they were\nright. But in my heart of hearts I knew that she deserved a long, fruitful life,\neven if that life was without me. So I did the only thing I could think of.            You see, once time has flown,\nhistory is irrevocable. Not even the fates can change what has been written in\nthe pages of their big horrible book. So you see, I did what I had to do. I\nsent her back in time. It nearly killed me to do it. I think the fates tried to\nstop me, but I caught them off guard. No mortal had ever dared cheat them so.\nThat's why I am still alive I think, as punishment for defying the spirit of\ntheir law, if not the letter of it.            Lobellia did not live past that\nwinter. I made it nearly impossible for her to do so. She was smart, that one\nand knew better than to ever try to contact her younger self. I sent her back a\ngood forty or fifty years I think. It's hard to tell. Like her, I knew better,\nonce I did what I did, to look too hard into it. Thinking about only brought me\npain and tears.            She was with child when I sent her\nback. It was mine f course, and it was a boy. I guess I could have been worried\nabout the consequences of my actions, but I figured the fates could deal with\nthe results. But nothing happened. The world didn't collapse. The skies didn't\ndarken. No; you see, my son grew up to be king of which I have spoken, the very\nking that was still ruling the day I was sent on my mission. I didn't know it\nthen. It was only much later that the pieces fell into place.            He called me into his chambers when\nI returned to my fair city. I had no evidence of my kill, and he knew full well\nwhy this was so. The treasury paid me my due, and compensated the soothsayer's\ngild.            \"Hello father\" he said with a smile.\"            I stood there stunned. \"Son?\"            \"Yes father. Mother told me so much\nabout you. It's too bad we couldn't have been a family during the past decades.\nI so wanted to tell you!\"            \"Yes, but your mother?\"            \"Yes, mother died the day before she\nwas to be born. She hated you for a long time when you sent her back. It was\nonly just before she died that she forgave you. I think she was hoping you\nwould come back with her.\"             \"But how could I? I was already here!\"            \"Exactly. You did a marvelous thing.\nYou did the only thing your heart would allow you to do and you did it so well not\neven the fates could stop you. And so, as the prediction fell, I became the\nbest of two choices. Mother might have hated you for what you did, but she was\nwise enough to understand it. She raised me to me knowledgeable and kind, just like\nshe was. I rule as best as I am able, and I do so thanks to you.\"            There was much more to our\nconversations, but they are personal and of no consequence here. Know only\nthis. If you love someone deep enough and strong enough, you can do miracles.\nOh, I have had many lovers since that time, but not once; not ever again did I\nfall in love. That was a well from which I had no escape, except now, with\ndeath. I regret nothing except that it has taken so long before I can join her\nagain, for death frees us all from our wordy pains.           That was the end of the words, painstakingly penned out all\nthose decades ago. In the man's hand was a lock of pare hair, wrapped around\nthe bony fingers in a grip that lasted even onto death. The book resides in the museum now, open to that last page. The\nspells in the front are not allowed to be read, not even by the wisest mages.\nThe decree against it states this reason. \"It takes more than a wise man to do\ngood deeds; it takes unconditional love. As we have determined that no love\nwill ever be greater than his, no one may by privy to his works under the\npenalty of death.\"            The fact is, there are no spells in the front of that\nbook, only stories and bits of wisdom. Whatever he did that day so long ago came\nstraight from his heart. That alone should tell you of the power of love. So\nwhen someone tells you it has the power to move mountain, believe them.                                                                                           "}