The Wizard of Wik travelled many fathoms, until his eyes beheld the familiar shape of the city of Bibilonia, where an old friend was rebuilding a society of learned men.
“Well, I’ll be,” he mused to himself. “To Bibilonia, then!”
As he entered the city gates, he saw King Yore addressing a group of men…
“We have a new member! He brings the very scroll we need to eliminate dark arts for eternity! Then we can finally venture into this vast, open world,” he was saying, with his hand upon the shoulder of a man who, the wizard surmised, must have been a newcomer.
As the Wizard approached the group, King Yore’s gaze fell on his old friend, as a faint smile formed on his face.
“Sniff Sniff… You smell.. off!”
“I have been walking a weary road, my old friend.”
King Yore’s countenance then turned from jest to concern. “Ole’ tomb, what is it you hide?”
“Only a memory of where we were and from whence we came, old friend. Tell me, what you discovered, King Yore, of the apocalypse?”
King Yore’s eyes blazed in reminiscence — memories long past, of men hiding in caves, all living things scurrying to their tunnels, their hidden underground fortresses, long prepared in advance by the men of Bibilonia. It was not a place he wanted to be, yet he could discern the old man had something to tell him…
“Come,” said Wik. “Let us find a table without candles. For knowledge shall be our light this day.”
King Yore placed his hand on the wizard’s shoulder and squeezed, then turned and beckoned towards a yonder stone building. “To my study, then.”
As they entered the building, the King beckoned to his steward, who rushed to set a table.
“I’ll find you a clear table,” the steward said, as he swept his hand across one of the least crowded desks in the study.
“This should do, right wizard,” he asked, as he capped a candle on the table, allowing only the outside light to illuminate the room.
“Yes, I think this will do nicely. How bout’ some of that sweet wine, to dampen bitter words and harsh memories?” The Wizard’s eyebrows creased, lowering his head as he continued, “Besides, you are going to need something to take the sting out of my words. I’m afraid I bring grave news.”
“Aye, there is another storm coming, old friend. But we will be ok, as long as we stick together.”
“Some sweet wine it shall be brother! Townsend, get the wizard something to quench his thirst. The best wine from my personal collection. Oh dear, I figured. We must work together to build a sphere around Bibilonia — to protect all those inside from the harsh outside elements. We’ve done it in the catacombs, I’m sure we can do it now.”
“Aye, we shall.” The two men nodded as they sat.
“So, I’m sure you are anxious to here what I have to say, King Yore. Well, hmmm… where do I begin. Ahh yes… this cursed paradox of a world we are trapped in.. This is nothing — you should see the other worlds! Strange lands, indeed where what you know just isn’t so, and where you’ve been is all but lost.. people you know don’t know you, and everyone is trying to get in your pocket!”
“It all started when I was minding my own business, some 10,000 years ago, by today’s time… I was tending my sheep near a quiet pond, just south of the Seven Palms of Jethro… you know the place. My wife was at home with the children, and I was tired, King Yore, so tired. I laid my head upon a stone for a brief moment, when, all of a sudden, a great vision came upon me… I looked up and mine eyes beheld a great throne, in the center of a circle of lights, spinning round fast. And there was a great king on the throne, even greater than you, King Yore. To his left and right were, I counted, seven smaller kings, all clothes in shiny garments, but darkness was in their faces… The great throne descended to the base of the sand dunes, right before my eyes, and the king and his sentinels descended as well. The king then stood upon his feet and called to me.. ‘Enoch,’ he said. he then placed his finger on his lips. “Shhhh.. do not repeat that. You are the only one here who knows my true name. Promise me you will never speak it out loud, not until we have discovered what we seek.”
“King Yore, I thought I had gone mad, you see? The hard labor was getting to me — the wife always harping on me, the children fighting over the chores. Life was hard back then, and I thought I had finally tipped… But then this great and mighty king held out his hand, and offered me power.” The wizard held out his hand in demonstration, then continued, “His name was Zarwik, King Yore. And he became my friend. We all climbed on his great flying throne, and he told me I would not see my wife and kids for a long time… but I did not mind, so awe-struck was I. They were from another world, you see? Zarwik was a great King of the Anuchians, and a master storyteller. He created all this mess, you know? Or, at least, his stories did. You see, the Anuchians discovered the secret to inter-dimensional travel, King Yore. They learned to bypass the natural limitations of the physical world by creating, of all things, STORIES.”
I went on to learn many things from Zarwik and his sentinels. He taught me great knowledge, King Yore… unearthly knowledge. They needed a human to represent their interests to the builders, you see.”
The Wizard shook his head, “Let me back up. You see, they cannot reveal themselves to all men… for when man cast his eyes upon a God, he becomes like them.. to truly know good and evil… and I came to learn of the great fear they had of what could result from this… Do you know why they came here? Oh, I know this is much to say… pass me that goblet, will you?”
The wizard gulped his wine, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve as he returned the goblet to the table with a thud. “It was because of that scoundrel Cain, murdering his brother the way he did. Drops of the stench of death stained a multitude of worlds that day, King Yore… a multitude of worlds.” The wizard poured more wine, chugged it again, then wiped again. Another thud. he then drew a deep breath, exhaled, then looked at King Yore. “It was my fault, King. I am the cause of all this.”
King Yore handed the Wizard a fresh wine bottle. “Feel better I hope, Wik. You had no way of knowing his plans. And, besides, you’ve made things aright, and you still are!”
“Well, I am intrigued. Are you saying other worlds have been destroyed, as ours was?”
“Ahh yes, yes…” The wizard drew another deep breath and leaned back. “There are many worlds, King Yore, and they have all faced their own apocalypse… Now, where was I? Oh, yes, you see, it was my job to speak with the builders. We travelled far and wide to strange lands across the great sea and back again, as we gathered the laborers.. You see, Zarwik was the one who taught us the secrets of precious metals. Shiny gold containing all the greed and evil of the heart, condensed into metal. Cursed stuff, I tell you.. but not as cursed as the Chamber of Secrets.. otherwise known as… the pyramids! That is where I am heading. I am going to undo what I have done!”
“What can I do to help?”
“Well, now you know somewhat of my journey, old friend. I need you to be on the lookout for a white raven. If I send her, then I need you and your men to come north. But, for now, you and your men just focus on rebuilding Bibilonia, and I will handle Zarwik!”
“So be it, though Zar is ruthless from what my premonitions say.. but if you need me, I’m not far. Bibilonia has just about found its footing again, but only time will tell. I foresee great prosperity having you and wayward travelers like you around, it will be quite the magical hub of wonders. We have recently taken in Wikari, who also brings some interesting lore. Well, I must visit the mines to help break up some stubborn rocks. See you around, wizard. Best of luck on your journey. Be safe, and do not be a stranger. Next time, we will share a pint of ale and catch up!”
“Aye. And we shall speak again. Farewell for now, my friend.”
Thus, the old wizard left King Yore and made his way to the outer realms, alone and deep in his thoughts. His heart had great hope for the Bibilonians; and he set it in his mind to return to them straightway, once his task was complete.
When he had travelled a short distance from the town, he turned back and gazed upon the misty horizon of Bibilonia, breathing one final waft of friendly air. A smile graced the old wizard’s cheeks as his eyes barely made out the figure of King Yore, standing on the top of the hill. As he rose his hand to his old friend, King Yore returned the gesture, thrusting his strong fist into the air with a mighty farewell.
*Written by @SvenDefono and @TheWizardofWikacy in the writing alliance @TheBibilonians
©️ Sven Defono and Wikacy App