At the end of the Second Age of Tamar the Five Gods, the Lorincen, played with the dice of history. Tarat, self-styled ruler of the Gods, and Kyra, once the Chronicler, now the Destroyer, urged their worshipers, the larin, to war upon mankind.

      Miune, the father of mankind, could do little to ward off the malice of his stronger kin, but he knew his children's hidden strength. He taught his worshipers to hate.

      Maera of the Mists and Jehan, known as Player, sought a different path...

4243, 424th Cycle of the Year of the Lizard
Month of Cerdana

     "Derwen succeed you as head of the Varfarin?" the Wizard Elgan exclaimed, his green eyes dilating in shock.

      The Wizard Cormor smiled at Elgan's astonishment. "Actually," he said, "my first reaction to the idea was much the same as yours."

      Elgan frowned and Cormor saw his attention sharpen. His grandson had grown to be so like him he found it uncanny at times. Elgan's eyes had less blue mixed with the green than his own, but they both had the same broad foreheads and firm jawlines. Still, the resemblance was not simply a physical one. Mikel, Elgan's father, had shared much the same physical appearance, but Cormor had never felt the same affinity. With Elgan, Cormor often felt as though his grandson had inherited some of his spirit, too.

     "The concept didn't originate with you?" Elgan asked.

     "No, I don't believe it did," Cormor said. "I've been praying to Jehan quite frequently since Belis died, and the other night I had a dream. In the dream, I saw myself telling Derwen that he would succeed me as Esalfar of the Varfarin. Of course, I attached certain conditions to the appointment."

      The two men sat in the library of Cormor's home in Ninkarrak, the capitol city of Ilwheirlane. Their chairs were positioned partially facing each other in front of the fireplace where a fire burned brightly. More light came from the large glass windows behind Elgan's back.

      "You based your decision on a dream?" Elgan's graceful, long-fingered hands clenched on the arms of the padded chair. Cormor looked away from his grandson's hands to his own, which until recently had been as strong and slender but were now beginning to thicken at the joints. He had not only stopped healing himself when his mate, the Wizard Belis, had died, he had begun to age himself as well. He shook his head. "Not just on that."

     "On what then?" Elgan demanded, surging to his feet and crossing the room to the window before turning back to face Cormor. "What conceivable reason could there be for so elevating one of your weakest and most pompous students?"

      Cormor eyed his grandson, outlined against the afternoon light. Elgan was a tall, athletic man, appearing to be in his mid thirties, the same age Cormor had appeared until Belis' death a year and a half earlier. "Sit down and let me explain, Elgan. I don't think you'll stay unhappy with my decision when you fully understand it, but in any event, your approval or disapproval won't sway me."

      Elgan stared at Cormor for a long moment. Then he sighed and returned to the chair opposite his grandfather. "All right," he said, sitting back down, "I'll grant you must have a reason. You aren't showing signs of senility yet."

      Cormor chuckled. "Why thank you, boy."

      Elgan looked hard at him, and Cormor knew he was being examined down to his cellular structure. "You believe the dream was sent by Jehan?"

      "Jehan or my subconscious, what difference does it make?" Cormor responded. "When I woke, I explored Derwen's selection, with the conditions, by means of a sibyl trance. Most of the possible futures still look bleak, but for the first time I saw a thread to the future I've dreamt of finding. I based my decision on the existence of that thread."

      "Ah, the sibyl trance," Elgan said, eyeing Cormor wryly, "the single trick in your vast repertoire you've never managed to teach to any of your students."

      "Perhaps because none of my students possess the requisite humility," Cormor suggested.

      Elgan laughed. "That's rich, Grandfather, coming from you." He shook his head and added, "But none of us have your power, or bear of one of the karionin. All right, what are the conditions to Derwen's appointment? You've mentioned them twice, so you're dying for me to ask."

      "Cheeky child," Cormor said, "my exact words to Derwen were, 'You must be single minded and ruthless on the Varfarin's behalf. You must find someone with the potential to be my equal, no matter how long the search may take, and you must make sure that, when you have found such a person, he or she receives training, no matter what that person's personal views on the subject may be.'"

      "Maera's mercy," Elgan said, "given those instructions I pity whoever Derwen finds. You've given the man absolute license for the most dreadful abuse, and you know he won't refrain from using it."

      Cormor nodded. "Yes, I pity my eventual successor, too, but the period to come will require great strength. Pain may temper the soul."

      "Or break it," Elgan said sharply.

      "No," Cormor said. "Whomever Derwen finds will have the power to be my equal, or better. Such a person won't break under what Derwen can mete out. Remember there will be checks. Whatever is done will be a public act, known to all members of the Varfarin."

      Elgan shook his head. "However you look at it, the Varfarin is bound to lose prestige and influence under Derwen. Most of the stronger wizards surviving today won't respect your choice."

      "There are too few human wizards at the moment to make any great difference anyway," Cormor said. "At least Derwen will be stuck with the administration and public appearances, freeing the stronger wizards for more important work. In fact, that will probably be about all he'll be able to manage. And Derwen knows he's not equal to the stronger wizards. He won't try to interfere with their individual pet projects, as many of the other choices certainly would do."

      "Small mercy," Elgan said. "Even if he doesn't interfere with my projects, I'll have to bite my tongue every time I report to him."

      "You won't have to report to him," Cormor said. "You'll no longer be a member of the Varfarin."

      "What?" Elgan exclaimed, running his long-fingered hands through his already disheveled chestnut hair, just a shade lighter and redder than Cormor's. "I've worked for the Varfarin all my life, over two hundred years now. You can't seriously think of expelling me simply because I don't approve of your choice of successor."

      "Nonsense, Elgan," Cormor said sharply. "I'm not going to expel you, you're going to quit as soon as I'm dead and Derwen takes command."

      Elgan stiffened and glared at Cormor for a moment. "That's wonderful, Grandfather, I hope you enjoyed your fun. Why would I quit?"

      "Because I saw something else in my dream. I saw the Council of Wizards restored, but with one vital difference."

      Elgan sighed. "I'll bite. What was the difference?"

      "This time it was not merely a council of human wizards, it was a council of all the great wizards of Tamar, and it had representatives with the blood of every humanoid race," Cormor said. "That was the great mistake made by the old Council: it tried to limit the knowledge of wizardry to humans."

      "But what does the Council's mistake have to do with my resigning from the Varfarin?"

      "Merely that you're going to spend the next several hundred years hunting for those with both mixed blood and wizard talent so you can teach them wizardry," Cormor said. "As that's a project that will meet with great disapproval from the few wizards surviving from the time of the Council, and from many of the stronger wizards presently active in the Varfarin, I don't want Derwen even aware of your activities."

      "You want me to teach the isklarin wizardry? How is that going to help in the coming war?" Elgan demanded.

      "Not the isklarin. They already have their own teachers, as do the linlarin. And Sura and Delanan will take care of finding ingvalarin to teach. Luth began that project and the Council didn't even object because the ingvalarin of Sussey have always been neutral during times of war," Cormor said. "Just as no one objected when Kaaremin taught Andamin, who's part gamlar. No, you're going to be hunting for the part hailarin and the part fallarin, those born with mixed blood and wizard talent but no teachers at all to teach them. You must find all their children with potential to be my equal, or yours, and make sure they receive wizard training, no matter what, to echo what I told Derwen."

      "Kandorra or Macosia," Elgan said bitterly. "Why bother having me resign from the Varfarin? If I'm off at the far ends of Tamar, I'm not going to be available for Derwen to ask for reports of me anyway."

      Cormor grinned. "You could have qualified almost a hundred years ago as a great wizard, Elgan, if such examinations were still being given. You may not be as strong as I am, but you're still one of the most powerful wizards alive today. You can produce any luxuries you feel you need. In fact, it will be good practice for you."

      "Why do all the races need to be represented?" Elgan asked. "Surely there can't be many fallarin with mixed blood. They hardly ever show their faces above ground."

      "True, but there have been matings," Cormor said. "Humans have a knack for spreading their seed. I often think that was the main reason Jehan and Maera brought them to Tamar."

      "So they could interbreed with all the larin?"

      "Yes. And so that, through them, the larin would interbreed with each other," Cormor said. "The larafarin, the people of the roads, were Jehan's first attempt to mix his children's blood, but they worked too slowly."