Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [70]
"Sober words for one so young. Most youths, and most mages, are so full of whim and pride that they'll dare anything."
Her words calmed him a little. At least she listened and did not dismiss him out of hand. Who was she? Did Mystra bind wizards to guard every one of her temples?
Elminster shook his head again. "I am a thief, Lady, in a city ruled by cruel wizards. Whim and pride are luxuries only rich fools can afford. If I want to indulge in them, I must needs do it by night, in bedchambers or on rooftops." He smiled thinly. "Thieves-and indeed farmers, beggars, and folk who own only a small shop or hand-trade, methinks-must keep themselves under rather more control by day, or soon perish."
"What would you do," the sorceress asked curiously, eyes very bright, "if you could work magic and became a wizard as strong as those who dwell here?"
"I'd use my spells to drive all the wizards out of Athalantar so folk could be free. I'd set a few other things right, too, and then renounce magic forever."
"For you hate magic," the lady said softly. "What if you did not and someone gave you the power, and told you that it must be used, that you must be a wizard? What then?"
"I'd try to be a good one," Elminster replied, shrugging again. Did temple wizards just talk to every intruder all the night through? Still, it felt good to speak openly at last to someone who listened and seemed to understand but not judge.
"Would you make yourself king?"
Elminster shook his head. "I'd not be a good one," he said. "I have not the patience." He smiled suddenly and added, "Yet if I found a man or a maid who'd wear the crown well, I'd stand behind him or her. That, I think, is the true work of a wizard-to make life in the lands he dwells in good for all who dwell there."
Her smile, then, was dazzling. Elminster felt sudden power in the air around him. His hair crackled, and his skin tingled. "Will you kneel to me?" the sorceress asked, striding nearer.
Elminster swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. She was very beautiful, and yet somehow terrifying, her eyes and hair alight with power like flame waiting to burst forth. Trembling, Elminster held his ground and asked, "L-Lady, what is thy name? Who are ye?"
"I am Mystra," came a voice that crashed around him like a mighty wave smashing on rocks. Its echoes rolled around the chamber. "I am the Lady of Might and the Mistress of Magic! I am Power Incarnate! Wherever magic is worked, there am I- from the cold poles of Toril to its hottest jungles, whatever the hand or claw or will that works the sorcery! Behold me and fear me! Yet behold me and love me-as all who deal with me in honesty do. This world is my domain. I am magic, mightiest among all those men worship. I am the One True Spell at the heart of all spells. There is no other."
Echoes rolled away. Elminster felt the very pillars of the temple shaking around him. He wavered in awe, like a man struggling in a high wind, but kept his feet. Silence fell, and their eyes met.
Golden flames burned in her gaze. Elminster felt as if he were burning inside; hot fire raced along his veins, pain rising in him like an angry red wave.
"Man," the goddess said, in an awful whisper, "do you defy me?"
Elminster shook his head. "I came here to curse thee or desecrate thy holy place or demand aid from thee, but now-no. I wish ye hadn't let the magelords slay my parents and ruin my realm, and I would… know why. But I have no wish to defy ye."
"What do you feel, instead?"
Elminster sighed. Somehow he'd felt he had to speak the truth since her first words to him, and it was still so. "I fear ye, and…" He was silent for a time, and then what might have been a smile touched his lips, and he went on. "… I think I could learn to love ye."
Mystra was very close to him now, and her eyes were dark pools of mystery. She smiled, and suddenly Elminster felt cool and refreshed, at ease.
"I let mages use spells freely so that all beings who use magic may escape tyranny. But from that freedom come such as the magelords in this land,"