Worldbinder by David Farland Page A

Madoc said. “By taking the bridge and holding it, we can forestall any attempt at a more serious attack.”
    “Your argument is persuasive,” King Urstone said. “Almost, I would ride to war now. If Sisel is right, the wyrmlings will soon be on their way, and my son’s life is forfeit, for I cannot put my love for him above the needs of my people—
    “However,” King Urstone continued, “I would have the counsel of Daylan Hammer on this, for he has wisdom gained over countless ages. This spell that is upon us, Daylan—this new world that fell from the heavens—have you heard of the like?” Urstone was an aging man, muchworn by his office, and looked as drained as Alun felt. But he was of the warrior caste, and he was a powerful man. Indeed, Alun had never seen the king show a hint of weariness, until now.
    Daylan Hammer strode to the center of the audience hall and pulled himself to his full height. Among the warriors, he was a small man, for none of them were less than a foot taller.
    “There has never been the like,” Daylan said, “in all of the lore that I know. But upon the netherworld there has been the hope that such a thing would be.”
    “A hope?” King Urstone asked in dismay.
    “There has been the hope that someone would someday gain the power to bind worlds together.
    “Long ago, there was but one world, and one moon, and all men lived in perfect contentment, in perfect peace. There was no death or pain, no deformity, no poverty or war or vice.
    “But one went out from among our forefathers who sought power. She sought to wrest control of the world from the others. The control of the world was bound into a great rune, the Seal of Creation. She sought to twist it, to bind it to her, so that she would become the lord of the earth.
    “But in the process of twisting it, the Seal of Creation was broken, and the One World shattered into many, into thousands and tens of thousands and into millions—each a world orbiting its own sun, each a flawed replica of that One True World.
    “The world that you live upon,” Daylan said, “is but a flawed shadow of that world, like a piece of broken crystal that can only hint at what it once was.”
    Daylan Hammer paused, and High King Urstone demanded. “Why have I never heard this lore?”
    “It has been lost here upon your world,” Daylan said. “But it is remembered elsewhere, on other worlds.
    “There has been a hope, a prophecy, that one amongus would gain the power to bind the shadow worlds into one. If so, then I know who has done this. It may be that he has gained that power at last—”
    “Or?” King Urstone demanded.
    “Or it may be that the enemy has gained such control. Long has she endeavored, hoping to learn how to bind worlds into one. But that skill has eluded her.”
    “This is madness,” Warlord Heddick cried. “What proof do we have that any of this is true?”
    “If it is proof that you want,” Daylan said, “look inside yourselves. Some of you must feel the change. In the past two hours alone I have heard a dozen people talking of strange dreams, of other lives that they remember. If I am right, many of you have combined with your other self, a shadow self. And our captains tell us that thousands of our people have just vanished. I suspect that they are scattered across the earth, having also combined with their shadow selves. Those ‘dreams’ that you are having are not dreams, they are memories. They are the proof that you seek, and if you question those who have them, you will find that their stories, their memories, corroborate one another. Do any of you have them?”
    Several warlords looked dumbfounded. Of them all, Warlord Madoc seemed most affected by Daylan’s words. His face went pale with shock, and he stood, trembling.
    The Wizard Sisel bent his head in profound thought and muttered, “This matter … demands attention.”
    It was at this moment that Warlord Madoc happened to glance toward the doorway and