Elric_ The Stealer of Souls - Michael Moorcock [122]
“You mean we will all soon cease to exist? That it will be as if we had never breathed, or thought, or fought?”
“That is likely.”
“But why? It seems unjust.”
“Who told you that the world was just?”
Elric smiled, his own suspicions confirmed. “Aye, as I expected, there is no justice.”
“But there is,” Sepiriz said, “justice of a kind—justice which must be carved from the chaos of existence. Man was not born to a world of justice. But he can create such a world!”
“I’d agree to that,” Elric said, “but what are all our strivings for if we are doomed to die and the results of our actions with us?”
“That is not absolutely the case. Something will continue. Those who come after us will inherit something from us.”
“What is that?”
“An Earth free of the major forces of Chaos.”
“You mean a world free of sorcery, I presume…?”
“Not entirely free of sorcery, but Chaos and sorcery will not dominate the world of the future as it does this world.”
“Then that is worth striving for, Sepiriz,” Elric said almost with relief. “But what part do the runeblades play in the scheme of things?”
“They have two functions. One, to rid this world of the great dominating sources of evil—”
“But they are evil, themselves!”
“Just so. It takes a strong evil to battle a strong evil. The days that will come will be when the forces of good can overcome those of evil. They are not yet strong enough. That, as I told you, is what we must strive for.”
“And what is the other purpose of the blades?”
“That is their final purpose—your destiny. I can tell you now. I must tell you now, or let you live out your destiny unknowing.”
“Then tell me,” Elric said impatiently.
“Their ultimate purpose is to destroy this world!”
Elric stood up. “Ah, no, Sepiriz. That I cannot believe. Shall I have such a crime on my conscience?”
“It is not a crime, it is in the nature of things. The era of the Bright Empire, even that of the Young Kingdoms, is drawing to a close. Chaos formed this Earth and, for aeons, Chaos ruled. Men were created to put an end to that rule.”
“But my ancestors worshipped the powers of Chaos. My patron demon, Arioch, is a Duke of Hell, one of the prime Lords of Chaos!”
“Just so. You, and your ancestors, were not true men at all, but an intermediary type created for a purpose. You understand Chaos as no true men ever could understand it. You can control the forces of Chaos as no true men ever could. And, as a manifestation of the Champion Eternal, you can weaken the forces of Chaos—for you know the qualities of Chaos. Weaken them is what you have done. Though worshipping the Lords of Chance, your race was the first to bring some kind of order to the Earth. The people of the Young Kingdoms have inherited this from you—and have consolidated it. But, as yet, Chaos is still that much stronger. The runeblades, Stormbringer and Mournblade, this more orderly age, the wisdom your race and mine have gained, all will go towards creating the basis for the true beginnings of Mankind’s history. That history will not begin for many thousands of years, the type may take on a lowlier form, become more beastlike before it re-evolves, but when it does, it will re-evolve into a world bereft of the stronger forces of Chaos. It will have a fighting chance. We are all doomed, but they need not be.”
“So that is what Darnizhaan meant when he said we were just puppets, acting out our parts before the true play began…” Elric sighed deeply, the weight of his mighty responsibility was heavy on his soul. He did not welcome it; but he accepted it.
Sepiriz said gently: “It is your purpose, Elric of Melniboné. Hitherto, your life has appeared comparatively meaningless. All through it you have been searching for some purpose for living, is that not true?”
“Aye,” Elric agreed with a slight smile, “I’ve been restless for many a year since my birth; restless the more between the time when Zarozinia was abducted and now.”
“It is fitting that you should have been,” Sepiriz said, “for there is a purpose for you—Fate’s purpose. It is this destiny that