Ayrond
The mage studied the scrying stone in amazement. How had those two overcome one of his most potent spells? Truly they held an unknown wizardry, one which might be powerful enough to bring about the downfall of Evil, but first he must discover how they had awakened. He recited the words which would show the past, and the drama began to unfold within the depths of the crystal. He watched in fascination, not understanding the halfling's magic yet awed by its alien power. With a wave of his hand the scene returned to the present, and showed the two young heroes as they searched the room together. It was interesting to watch the interplay between them.
The elven prince radiated a restrained strength which - if unleashed - would certainly defeat almost any denizen of this land. His spellbinding ability was unknown but there was no doubt of its puissance. Yet he paid allegiance to the other. Kirk, whilst showing great respect and even deferring to him on occasion, obviously commanded the halfling. Here was a man who led by his own special qualities. One who was none the less powerful despite the other's superiority. An exceptional leader who held the oath of one of the eldritch folk.
There was an intangible aura about them which defied description, an overriding sense of mutual affection counter to the ways of this land but perhaps normal in the mysterious other-place beyond the void. The mage could not say for he had seen little of their home. It was unimportant anyway. These two being awake now meant a change in plan. A minor inconvenience. It was time to reveal his presence. Gripping his amulet of protection, unsure if it would work against such formidable beings, he drew comfort from its warmth as he uttered the spell which would take him to the enchanted bower. He dared not think of the times he had loved his lady in that magical room; the past could not be recalled without pain and he was unable to face it even now.
***
As a Vulcan and a scientist, logic, analysis and rationality were second nature to Spock but this chamber and the experiences since that moment on the Enterprise defied all the rules he lived by. Something deep within told him that there was a difference here which was stranger than anything they had ever encountered before. The captain's famed intuition had rapidly leaped to the same conclusion and they had discussed the matter thoroughly without reaching any satisfactory answers to their many questions.
Suddenly Spock registered another presence. Jim, he called silently. He hoped that his friend would receive the warning as their link was now intensified by the recent mental contact they had shared..
Human and Vulcan turned as one.
The being who stood behind them was far removed from anything they were prepared to see. Spock was unable to control the involuntary movement of his eyebrow as he studied what appeared to be an old man. Their visitor was wearing a full length robe of fine lilac wool. Over it was a purple velvet jacket, decorated along the edges in a gold ropework pattern and on his feet were simple leather sandals. His short midnight-blue cape was pinned at the neck by a jewelled clasp. With gem studded wristbands blazing and his long wooden staff, the man resembled the traditional wizard out of a Terran story book. Surely an impossible coincidence!
Beside him the captain gulped audibly, but command training quickly reasserted itself and Kirk stepped forward, his hands outstretched in the universal sign of peace. "Greetings, sir. I am Captain James T Kirk of the... a ship named the Enterprise."
Leaning heavily on his staff, the alien bowed low then slowly raised his head. "Greetings, Lord King." He turned his attention to Spock, dropped to his knees and lowered his face until his long silver hair and beard brushed the thick carpet. "Eldritch Prince, I am thy humble servant."
Kirk glanced at Spock, a surprised expression clearly showing in his eyes. Spock returned the look. The 'wizard' remained at their feet as if awaiting permission to rise so Kirk shrugged and spoke. "Stand, sir. Tell us who you are and why we have been brought here."
The old man rose to his feet; his bronzed skin was beaded with sweat. "I am the Arch-Mage Ayrond, Keeper of the Magic Lore of Arigol. I beg forgiveness for my presumption in summoning you here."
The newcomer exuded great power despite his advanced years and show of humility. Kirk instantly sensed the potency but did not allow it to affect him. He was used to holding his own with all manner of superior beings.
Caution is advisable, he heard in his mind, and reassured by Spock's enhanced telepathic presence, Kirk drew on his captain's mantle. Despite the lack of knowledge about their whereabouts he was in command of the situation.
"Are you responsible for my crew's condition?" he demanded.
"Be assured they are unharmed. They are only under the influence of a slumber spell. If you wish I shall awaken them." Ayrond paused, his deep-set blue eyes staring intently at the two officers. "I am most surprised and impressed regarding your ability to break my spell. None now but the elven-folk have the knowledge and few of them can wield the power any more. So magic does exists beyond the void. It is what we have prayed for"
Kirk frowned as he attempted to decipher the other's meaning. Magic spells! Elven-folk! It was ludicrous. Yet the reference to 'the void' and the indication that Ayrond knew of another universe - their universe - was significant. Obviously the old man had brought them here, but there was no hostility in his manner only a curious respect tinged with an undercurrent of anticipation. His greeting had been very peculiar with that homage to Spock and the titles they both had been given - Lord King and Eldritch Prince.
Eldritch is an ancient word which relates to those of elvish blood, Jim. According to some Earth legends, elves had pointed ears, were long-lived and had no emotions. He has mistaken me for such a creature.
Kirk smiled. There are definite similarities.
Spock raised an offended eyebrow but did not answer.
Ayrond stepped back a pace, almost stumbling in his haste. "Forgive me, my lords. I have done ye much wrong but I beg ye to listen to me."
"Ayrond, we are not native to this place," Kirk said. " You've brought us here against our will and placed us under restraint. You address us in terms we are unaccustomed to. Your powers are strange to us. I don't know who you think we are." He sighed at the old man's obvious distress. "But we'll listen to you."
"The prophecy foretold your coming, Lord King. I saw the vision in the scrying crystal and with all the remaining human magic invested in me by the Guild, I summoned you from your land across the great beyond. It is written thus."
The two Starfleet officers listened with amazement, and a certain curiosity, as Ayrond recited the words of the prophecy.
The mage slumped to the floor, his exhaustion showing clearly on his aged face. "Ye are the Noble King and Halfling Prince. Those who lie in enchanted sleep are the other saviours. I beg forgiveness for the effrontery of my actions but Arigol needs thee. The Evil overruns us. They have imprisoned perhaps slain all those of the Royal House of Arbara. They even lay siege to Elvenhome. Soon it will be too late. I plead with ye to free us from the terror. Ye are the last hope remaining to the oppressed people of Arigol." Tears burst from the mage's dark blue eyes.
Kirk was stunned by these revelations for ludicrous as they appeared to him it was obviously very real to the old man. His sympathetic nature was engaged. He knelt down and tentatively touched the purple-clad shoulder. "Don't be upset, sir. We'll help if possible, but you must waken my crew then explain exactly what is going on here."
Ayrond stared up at the young man, noting the masculine beauty of his face; the expression-filled eyes; the noble spirit encased within the shell of flesh. The Prince, the ancient powers of his warrior-race restrained, stood by the King's shoulder, his elf-sharp features softened by the deep concern emanating so clearly from within his halfling soul. Truly the prophecy was accurate. "I thank you, Lord King," he said, and struggled to rise. He was almost lifted to his feet by the young man's strength and gratefully leaned on the muscular shoulder until his feet were steady and able to hold his weight.
Kirk smiled, slowly released his grip and stepped back a few paces. "You've been under great strain, Ayrond, perhaps you should sit down."
The mage obeyed to the other's command and allowed himself to be guided to a small seat beside the fire. He swallowed hard. Memories of his beloved reclining on this very chair as he sat on the floor at her feet surfaced in his weary mind. "Maran," he whispered brokenly.
"Sir." The voice intruded on his grief. Ayrond blinked then focussed on the two who stood facing him, the elven one in a stance which spoke of protectiveness for his liege. That one of the elder race should be subject to a human was truly amazing. Perhaps in their reality it was normal but something told the mage that it was not
"I will awaken the others," Ayrond said. He closed his eyes, drew a sign in the air and spoke the counterspell. It sapped more of his energy and he slumped into unconsciousness as the enchantment dispersed.
***
Kirk helped his startled crew through the shock of their transformation with a casual acceptance which belied his inner confusion. He told them the little that was known and despite the seriousness of the situation could not help but be amused as he discreetly watched their reactions.
McCoy scratched at his head, eyes widening at the touch of longer hair and the sight of his robe. "I'm a doctor not a wandering prophet," he commented sourly. His gaze, like the rest, strayed continually to Spock as if unable to believe his eyes; while the Vulcan using his most intimidating stare, defied anyone to remark on his appearance.
Uhura twirled around in delight at her beautiful clothes. "You too can go to the ball!" She laughed then controlled her excitement, smiling embarrassedly, as she noted her captain's attention upon her.
Kirk grinned approvingly. "You look stunning, Uhura."
"So do you, sir," she impulsively replied and chuckled softly.
"Touche," he graciously conceded, flushing a little.
Christine studied her reflection approvingly, obviously deciding that the simple lines of her dress were highly flattering to her height and build. She watched Spock through lowered lashes, her heart almost visibly thumping at his barbaric appearance. She drew her eyes away only to meet Uhura's knowing gaze; blushing she turned away but her friend clasped her arm and murmured, "It's okay, Christine. He would turn any woman's insides to mush. He and the captain were always attractive before, but now... "
The nurse laughed. "I know, and still as unattainable."
Kirk pretended not to hear but if he could, there was no doubt the superior auditory abilities of even a half-Vulcan would be only too aware of the comments.
Sulu was fascinated by his swordsman's accoutrements. "This is fantastic," he exclaimed as he drew the sword from its sheath, and studied its gemmed hilt and sharp blade. "It's unlike anything I've used before! Look at the workmanship, Chekov!"
The young Russian was staring down in dismay at his tunic. "Vy have I got such a skimpy outfit?" He tugged at the hem. "It barely covers me!"
"We've noticed, Chekov," Uhura remarked wickedly.
Chekov lifted his chin, almost preening himself under her smiling gaze. "Oh, and do you like vat you see?"
McCoy shook his head. "To be twenty-three again!" he exclaimed. "Well, at least my outfit covers me decently." The Doctor leaned over the unconscious figure of the mage. "I wish I had my medicorder with me."
"It might not be of use here, Bones," Kirk said. "If this is a different universe, other rules might apply. The whole thing is like something out of a fantasy!"
Spock tilted his head to one side in that curious pose which indicated he was about to impart an interesting piece of knowledge or theory. Kirk was immediately alert; the others followed their captain's lead and waited silently for the Vulcan to speak.
"Sir, you have twice mentioned the term 'fantasy'. It is a form of literature I am familiar with through my mother's fondness for the genre."
"Did she read you bedtime stories, Spock?" Kirk teased.
"Indeed. I recall her reading 'Lord of the Rings' to me when I was two years old. A fascinating book."
The others glanced at each other in amusement. "Two years old!" McCoy scoffed. "Hell, that's impossible, it's not a child's book."
Spock raised an eyebrow, but did not deign to comment. "Captain, everything we have encountered here is reminiscent of ancient Terran tales. Magic spells, the styles of clothing, the arch-mage, his reference to elves, the scrying crystal and the vision of us he saw within it. There are also his fanciful words concerning 'the void' or 'beyond', possibly his terminology for the anomaly and what lies at the other side."
He was the object of everyone's rapt attention and not for his words alone. Spock was uncomfortably aware of Christine's eyes devouring him. He tried to restrain a nervous swallow and continued with the report. "We are aware of the existence of other universes, and have encountered them ourselves. It is possible that we have entered one which is recognisable because it has connected with our own in the past."
Kirk's eyes sparkled with excitement as he followed every word. "Of course, Spock, you mean that all those legends of wizards, dragons and giants have their roots during the times these universes crossed at particular places in time and space."
"Hobgoblins and witches and fairy tales," McCoy scoffed. "Spock, I thought you prided yourself on your logic!"
"I do, Doctor," the Vulcan said. "We must accept the facts. We are not on the Enterprise. We were locked into an unnatural sleep which only I - with difficulty - could escape. Changes have been made to our appearance. This place is unknown to us yet not entirely unfamiliar. He indicated the slumped figure on the chair. "This gentleman has claimed he used magical means to abduct us. The possibility must be acknowledged."
McCoy started to laugh but Kirk silenced him with a glance. "When were Spock's theories ever that far wrong, Bones? It all makes a certain sense now."
Uhura stared up at Spock. "In what language did you talk to Ayrond, sir?"
"The same as we speak now, Lieutenant, Standard English. However I see your point. The legends of Earth cover vastly different cultures all of whom spoke different languages. It is an interesting question and one we must consider."
They were disturbed by anguished moans from the mage. McCoy touched the wrinkled forehead and held the narrow wrist, for in the absence of twenty-third century technology he had to rely on the traditional methods of his profession. Chapel knelt by the chair and held the old man's other gnarled hand, stroking it gently as she discussed their patient's condition with the Doctor.
The blue eyes opened and stared at the medics. "Caring One, thou are beautiful, thy touch brings comfort to an old man. Healer, thou are compassionate and wise."
Christine smiled. "Rest, sir. You are very tired."
"Yes, but that is unimportant. My part in this is over. Ye are here at last. The prophecy will be fulfilled."
"I don't know anything about all this mumbo jumbo," McCoy complained. "You are ill, sir, and I don't have any medical equipment or drugs to help you."
"Perhaps that can be remedied," the mage replied as he looked past them at the Vulcan. "Lord Prince, thou has great power. Use it to grant the Healer's requirements."
Spock exchanged a puzzled glance with his captain. It galvanised Kirk into throwing off the lingering effects of their transference. He straightened his broad shoulders and braced his legs in a confident stance. "All right, Ayrond. We've listened to your cryptic words and they're not good enough. Who are you? If you are responsible for bringing us here, who gave you the right, how did you do it and why? I demand to know. Now."
Ayrond lowered his gaze, and Kirk knew that the old man accepted his authority. He sensed amusement emanating from the Vulcan and attempted to ignore it, but knowing that Spock was permitting him to see that emotion caused a warm feeling to flow through him. He always enjoyed when Spock showed his humanity.
Slowly the mage stood, stretching to his full height, towering over all them. He leaned on his staff and began to speak. "I will try to explain all, Lord King. You are in the land of Arigol. It was once a beautiful place where everyone was equal, and magic lore was used for the benefit of the people. All who lived here were happy, fulfilled and contented. Then came the time of Evil. The mighty King Medrikhor, ruler of the nether regions rose from the Pit of Despair to ravage the land. He and his minions cast foul enchantments on those of the true magic, absorbing their power unto himself, perverting it to his own evil uses. Where once there was peace and joy, now there is fear and anguish. No-one knows who will be the next to suffer. All now live under the threat of torture and death."
He paused to catch his breath. Kirk noted how intently his crew listened to the mage's impassioned words, their expressions clearly showing bemusement. "We fought for many years with some measure of success, but when Medrikhor captured Valdrin Elf-King, imprisoning him and his followers in the Castle of Doom, many lost heart. Aelwen Elf-Queen led her troops against the Dark King but was lost in battle. The elven forces were slaughtered. Without their protection none could withstand the onslaught of Medrikhor's minions and the darkness covered Arigol like a blight."
"After years of futile resistance the surviving members of the Guild of Sorcery met in a secret glade. We decided that our only option was to find the heroes of the prophecy. I was freely given the remaining magic power of the other mages, though it left them helpless. My own Gift was weakened through years of battle against the Evil but their sacrifice bolstered my power and allowed me to command the High Sorcery required to bring you here. I searched through the mists for three long months before I beheld you within the crystal. If I have done wrong in your eyes, I ask forgiveness. Our need is very great. We live under the yoke of terror and have no-one left to turn to. Only the seven heroes of the prophecy can save us now. Ye has the power of the other-place. The Halfling Prince wields the ancient magic of his kind; his purity cannot be corrupted. He serves the King whose nobility of spirit is unquestionable." The mage opened his arms in a gesture which encompassed them all. "All of ye are essential to the freedom of the people of Arigol."
Although sympathetic, Kirk was unsure if the old man was telling the truth. It was all too fantastic! Yet in his years as a Starfleet officer he had seen too many alien phenomena to totally disbelieve the story. "Ayrond, you have brought us here against our will. Why should we help you? This is not our place. We must return home at once. Send us back."
The imposing figure slumped and leaned heavily on his staff for support. "I regret to say that it is beyond my powers to return you. I have little magic left to me now. Oh, Lord King, the prophecy foretells your coming. I plead for understanding."
Kirk glanced at his crew, sensing their compassion for the old man. Spock raised an eyebrow and there was an almost humorous touch of challenge through their link. "The Prime Directive," Kirk stated defiantly.
"The Prime Directive applies to our universe, Captain," Spock answered. "This gentleman has brought us elsewhere. The probability that the prophecy refers to us is high."
McCoy's eyes were wide. "Well, I'll be! Are you, the logical Vulcan, going to fall for this preposterous tale? This 'sweet old man' is a con-artist, worse even than Harry Mudd. He seems human, but I can't tell without my tricorder. He could be an alien shapeshifter for all we know, or an android or... "
"Dr. McCoy, your emotional nature constantly interferes with any logic skills you might possess. If you would control yourself and apply your medical training, it may be possible to ascertain this gentleman's species without resorting to the technology which is so often the target of your contempt."
"Why you excuse for a Vulcan warrior!" McCoy spluttered. "You spout logic and yet you're gullible enough to believe in wizards and magic!"
"Bones, Spock, that's enough," Kirk snapped, startled by the sudden altercation.
They glanced at him. Spock stood stonily silent as McCoy walked several steps away, his face flushed with anger. As the others exchanged concerned looks, the mage watched them with interest. Kirk shook his head slightly and turned his attention to their abductor.
"If Mr Spock accepts the possibility that you're telling the truth then I'll accept his judgement, but you will forgive me if I'm sceptical about some of your claims." Angered by the argument between his two friends, Kirk sent a silent reprimand along the link between him and Spock. I don't need you to trade insults with McCoy right now, despite the provocation.
The Vulcan flinched and bowed his head, his contrition apparent in the unspoken communication between them. McCoy - a long time reader of Spock's body language - sighed deeply, and with an embarrassed expression he began to apologise.
"Later, Bones," Kirk said. "All right, Ayrond. Are you certain you can't return us, or is it that you won't?"
"I regret my weakness, Sire, my remaining power is insufficient to breach the void. The elvenkind are besieged, their numbers depleted, and cannot assist you. Only the strength of the heroes of the prophecy can defeat the Evil. Once that task is complete and the magic restored it may be possible to summon enough power to send you from Arigol."
Kirk listened in silence, disliking the situation more with each passing moment. "There must be some way." He recalled a recent remark made by the mage. "You said Spock had great power. How is it possible for him to grant McCoy's wishes? Can he return us?"
"Halfling magic is puissant. It can work wonders impossible to those of full-blood, but alone it will not be sufficient for such a task." The mage pointed his staff at the Vulcan. "Command him to use it, sire. Test it."
Kirk frowned. The unaccustomed weights of his hair, the gold torque on his neck and the constriction of the band around his brow were causing a throbbing headache. "Spock, do you know what he's talking about?"
The Vulcan raised the expected eyebrow. "No, sir, but with your permission I will speak with Ayrond. It is possible that my telepathic abilities may be useful."
"Permission granted." He turned to the mage. "Ayrond, can you magick us up a little food?"
The old man smiled. He raised his staff in the air and murmured several unintelligible words. There was a shimmer, then a table laden with all manner of food materialised in front of them. "A minor spell," Ayrond said in answer to their amazed stares.
The four younger crewmembers eyed the food longingly. Kirk seeing their eagerness, and painfully aware of his own hunger, gave them permission to eat, reasoning that it would not be in Ayrond's interests to poison them. McCoy did not argue, having obviously reached the same conclusion. Tentatively, the doctor lifted a slice of dark bread and took a small nibble. He chewed then swallowed, his face breaking into a grin. "It's good, Jim."
Spock faced the mage. "Sir, I would be interested in your explanation of the halfling power."
Ayrond closely studied the Vulcan's face. "You are unfamiliar with it, Lord Prince?"
"I am trained in the use of certain disciplines," Spock said carefully, unwilling to explain Vulcan telepathy to this alien being. "They may or may not be similar to yours."
The mage smiled. "I understand. You are from another place, perhaps the power is different there. That is my hope. The Evil subverts all of our magic it touches, hopefully yours will remain untainted. In all the legends of this land there are none concerning any member of the elvenkind from the mystic realm, except within the prophecy. Tell me, my prince, are there many such as thee?"
As Spock attempted to decipher the mage's words his intuitive, human captain had instantaneously reached a hypothesis. Their legends tell about the overlap of the universes from their perspective, Spock. Of course they'd only see humans if the last encounter was before First Contact. It all fits; the parallel with our old tales of their monsters and wizards is too close.
Indeed, Captain. However that does not explain why the universes now converge so far from Earth, Spock said.
"Maybe it can only be explained by magic, Spock." Kirk replied aloud.
The mage took a hesitant step backwards. "Ye spoke to one another without words! I thought myself mistaken before." A swift tremor ran through his body and he swayed. "Such puissant magic has been lost for eons amongst Arigol's population."
"The telepathic ability is a heritage of my father's people," Spock replied. "It is true that as a child of two species, a hybrid or halfling as you prefer, my powers are stronger than the norm. Although primarily a touch telepath, I am able, on occasion, to communicate with my captain without the necessity of physical contact."
Ayrond was staring in awe. "I do not understand thee, Halfling-Prince, but I honour thy sorcery."
"It is not sorcery, Ayrond. The telepathic ability is..."
"Spock, enough. He won't understand," Kirk interrupted.
"Yes, sir." Spock clasped his hands behind his back in his familiar stance. "Ayrond, explain how I may summon the items, Dr McCoy needs?"
The mage reached into his robe and brought a glittering crystal out from an inner pocket. "Behold the Seeing Stone. Look into its depths and visualise that which you require. Once it has formed, draw it to you."
"Fortune tellers; crystal balls," McCoy grumbled. "Jim, this is ludicrous! How can he possibly get my medical bag and tricorder?"
"Keep an open mind, Doctor," Kirk said mildly.
Spock accepted the crystal from Ayrond and settled into a crosslegged position on the floor. He examined the glistening orb. It was cool to the touch but there was an inner heat which gradually emerged from the core to bathe his face in a crimson glow. His curiosity completely engaged, Spock was barely aware of the others as he concentrated on the cloudy tendrils forming within the stone. He focussed on a detailed vision of the ship; the mist slowly cleared and there hanging like a jewel in space was the Enterprise. Encouraged, Spock narrowed his perceptions to McCoy's office in Sickbay. He visualised the medical pouch and tricorder and they appeared within the crystal's centre. Telekinesis was a rare gift amongst Vulcans. Spock had never before shown any signs of it but aware that the forces of this universe might be of assistance, he aimed a blast of telepathic energy at the objects. There was a violent wrench and suddenly he was helplessly spiralling into the swirling depths of the scrying crystal.