Ahriman: Sorcerer Read Online Free PDF Page A

in the air, reaching into the sky above them. Ahriman continued, his eyes turning to look up at the growing sculpture. ‘To see the future is like looking up at the branches of a tree. From the ground the trunk is visible, but after a while the tree begins to branch. Suddenly something that was one becomes several. Those branches in turn divide again, and again, and again. The further up you look the more the tree branches, the more the lower branches hide those that grow higher still.’
    A broad canopy of crystalline foliage hid the sun above the tower now, each leaf a different colour. Astraeos thought he glimpsed the face of the red-robed king, high up and far away, just one shard amongst many.
    ‘And now we see that the tree is a living thing, its every inch moving between new growth and death. Leaves bud, wither and fall. The tree grows higher, and a wind rises. New branches spread above you. Some branches die, and become dry limbs creaking as they scrape at the sky. Sometimes the wind is just a breath that only stirs the thinnest twigs. Sometimes it is a gale. The tree sways, the branches thrash. And all the while, through every change, every stir of the air, every new growth, you are looking up, seeing the pattern of branches change, glimpsing its heights only to then have them hidden again. We see what is closest most clearly, what is further away perhaps not at all.’
    Ahriman stood still, staring up, and then he looked down. The crystalline tree crumbled, glittering leaves falling through the sunlight with a sound like the ringing of a thousand glass bells. The pieces began to spiral as they fell, rotating like a dust devil around the table to coalesce at its centre. The cascade of crystal vanished, and a stack of crystal cards sat on the beaten copper surface of the table.
    Ahriman reached down and picked up the topmost card, and held it out towards Astraeos. The priestess in the robes of fire looked out from her crystal prison, her face flickering between skull and flesh.
    ‘To predict the future is not to try and see one leaf on the tree – it is to see a forest, and find one tree, and on that tree to find one leaf.’
    ‘Is it even possible?’
    Ahriman placed the card back on the pile.
    ‘It is, but it is not the easiest way to know the future.’
    ‘What is?’
    Astraeos thought he saw something harden in Ahriman’s expression.
    ‘To destroy every other possibility except the one that will occur.’
    Astraeos shivered, despite the heat of the sun.
    ‘The Athenaeum,’ he said softly. ‘Is it worth it, Ahriman?’
    Ahriman looked away, but said nothing.
    He has promised salvation to his Legion , thought Astraeos. What else can he do but try to understand what went wrong, to see if there was an error that could have been corrected.
    ‘There is something I must ask of you.’ Ahriman looked around again. Astraeos held the cold blue gaze.
    ‘Ask,’ he said.
    Ignis stepped from the gloom of the gunship into the bright light of the Sycorax ’s hangar bay. He paused at the bottom of the ramp. It had been a long time since he had been on board the ship, and longer still since he had breathed her air or walked her decks. Centuries had passed for him and in that time he knew that he had changed, but it seemed both time and change had touched the Sycorax more deeply. Blooms of verdigris crusted the recesses of plates and rivets. Geometric reliefs in bronze and lapis crawled over the decks and walls. Some of them looked as though they had grown from the ship’s bones. Figures in billowing yellow robes moved on the margins of the hangar, clicking with machine noise. All of them seemed to either be skeletal and tall, or bloated and squat. They were watching him. He could feel their eyes and curiosity prickle his mind.
    Ignis began to count and calculate as he watched. The numbers and geometries of this situation were not good, but then what should he expect given what this ship was, and who commanded it? He