Pool of Twilight - James M. Ward [98]
She gazed at Kern. "That is what attacked me in the glen. One of Sifahir's servants. I… I never imagined one of his creatures could travel so far from his island prison."
She shook her head and went on. "With his web and his conjured minions, Sifahir captured and enslaved countless elves. The weaponsmith, Primul, was one of them, and the elven mages, Brookwine and Winebrook, were two more. Most of Sifahir's prisoners died in the course of his terrible experiments, but a few were kept alive to serve him."
"Like you, Listle?" Trooper asked gently.
She laughed then, but it was a rueful laugh, so unusual coming from the typically buoyant elf.
"No, Trooper," she said sorrowfully. "That wasn't the case with me. You see, I didn't come to the island." Anguish shone in her silver eyes. "The island was where I first came to be."
Realization struck Kern, cold and terrible. "He… he created you, didn't he?" He could barely speak the words. "Sifahir conjured you, just like he did the creature in the glen." He shook his head. "But that means you're… you're a…"
She nodded, trembling. "An illusion, Kern. I began my existence as an illusion, conjured by Sifahir's magic to guard his treasure chamber."
Kern worked his jaw silently. What could he possibly say?
"But an illusion is simply an image," Trooper said with a bushy-eyebrowed scowl. "Illusions are nothing more than figments of the imagination. They cannot think, or act of their own free will. Or play practical jokes."
"No," Listle agreed, "they can't." She shivered, drawing closer to the fire. "I have only vague recollections of the time when I was created. More like dreams, really. I remember existing in Sifahir's treasure chamber. I would appear if intruders ventured within and use the magic Sifahir had granted me to confront them. There was never any conscious thought in my actions."
Her voice grew even more quiet, her gaze intent. "But then… then something happened. What caused it to happen, I don't think I'll ever know. Perhaps it was simply the aura of magic that pervaded the treasure chamber, radiated by all the artifacts it contained. Whatever the cause, one day I realized that I had become conscious. I was fully aware of what I was-no, of who I was-and what I was doing.
"At first it was simply a curious, wonderful sensation. But as time went on, my sense of self grew stronger. I began to feel pity for the people I was forced to use my magic on, then grief. Finally, I too came to understand Sifahir's true nature and knew that I could serve him no longer. I decided to escape. It was the first independent decision I ever made."
She touched her ruby pendant, its light dormant now. "As the guardian of Sifahir's treasure, I knew each item, down to the least coin. This necklace was one of his most prized possessions. It was forged by gnome illusionists long ago and enhanced his magic greatly. But he did not understand all of its secrets. I sensed that it had the power to grant me… life." She swallowed hard. "As long as I wore the necklace, my body would be no different than a living elf is."
"So you took the necklace and escaped from the tower," Miltiades said solemnly.
She nodded. "It was easy. Sifahir had never expected one of his own illusions to betray him. Since I could will myself to become insubstantial and pass through walls, I managed to free some of the prisoners-Primul and a few others locked in the dungeons. We fled through the tower's gates. That was where I discovered Winebrook and Brookwine. Their bodies were sunk deeply into the stone archway, where for years they had been forced to use their magic to strengthen the iron gate. I was able to reach into the stone and pull them free."
Her eyes grew distant "I remember that day so clearly. Primul picked up the two old mages as if they were thin sticks. They were so pale, so brittle. I didn't see how they could survive. We dashed through the gates and to the sea. Then I realized we had no way to escape the island. But somehow, despite their weakness, Brookwine and