‘Yet, were I a Loremaster myself, of uncommon prowess, still the outcome would be the same. Such power . . . would instantly strike dead any who set his hand to it.’
Dread making him not want to believe what he was hearing, Mraan asked, ‘You mean . . . are you saying that the illustration . . . ?’
‘Aye,’ said his father, turning to him at last. ‘The illustration, the Lore itself, is in some way responsible for all that is happening. When I completed it, I saw . . . the inevitability of what had to come to pass . . . how can I speak of it?’
He turned in his chair, faced his son squarely, forcing Mraan to do the same. ‘I thought at first that the illustration was a trap, set in some way by the evil Wizard, Morlock, long ages ago. It did not occur to me that the Lore itself was the source of the evil I felt. The Loremaster who began setting it down must have sensed the danger as I did, no doubt understanding its true nature, and so left it unfinished. In his day, copyists only reproduced existing texts, leaving the work of illustration to a Loremaster with such skill as would see the consequences of his own craft. But over the years such practices changed, and fools such as I began reproducing works that we had little or no understanding of because there was no apparent harm in doing so. For all his lack of caution, a Loremaster would not have finished the thing. He would have known better.