A first look inside Legends of the Abyss - meet Eldric, the Gate Keeper.
Eldric was an older, weather-worn man whose long white beard and deeply lined face revealed more years than he cared to count. He stood alone in the large stone chamber with his hands clasped behind his back, watching the flames flicker around the logs in the fireplace. The warmth felt good against the early morning chill, but it did little to settle the questions that had occupied his thoughts since a messenger had appeared at his door before sunrise.
He had been told only that the Elders required his presence immediately. No explanation had been offered, and the messenger either could not or would not answer his questions. Eldric had learned long ago that when the Elders wanted something, they had an irritating habit of believing everyone else should simply obey and wait for an explanation afterward.
He glanced over his shoulder at the otherwise empty chamber. A single wooden chair sat several feet behind him, positioned almost deliberately in the center of the room. There was no table, no second chair and nothing on the bare stone walls to give him any indication of why he had been brought there. He had considered sitting several times while he waited, but something about that lone chair made him stubbornly refuse to do so until someone told him what was happening.
The heavy wooden door finally creaked open behind him, and Eldric turned toward the sound. The Elders entered slowly, their long robes brushing across the stone floor as they spread throughout the chamber. One walked with the help of a gnarled cane, favoring a leg that no longer wanted to carry him. Another kept his hood drawn so far forward that only the tip of his nose caught the firelight. Their solemn expressions did nothing to ease Eldric's growing curiosity. Not one of them greeted him or offered an explanation for summoning him at such an unreasonable hour.
The hooded Elder extended his hand toward the empty chair and motioned for Eldric to sit.
“Before I do that, perhaps someone could explain why—”
The Elder raised his hand, stopping Eldric before he could finish. The one with the cane stepped away from the group and, without saying a word, motioned toward the chair once again.
Eldric stared at him for a moment, then looked around at the other silent faces. It was becoming painfully obvious that he wasn't going to receive an answer until he cooperated. With a quiet sigh, he crossed the room and lowered himself into the chair. He settled back against it, resting his hands on his knees before looking at the men gathered around him.
“There. I'm sitting,” he said, his patience beginning to wear thin. “Now perhaps one of you would be kind enough to tell me why I was pulled from my home before the sun had the good sense to rise.”
A few of the Elders exchanged glances, but it was the oldest among them who finally stepped forward. Age had bent his shoulders and slowed his movements, yet there was nothing weak about the way he looked at Eldric.
“A man died three nights ago,” he said.
Whatever response Eldric had expected, it hadn't been that, and the sharp reply he'd been ready to give died in his throat. He shifted forward in the chair and studied the Elder's face, trying to determine why the death of a man he apparently didn't know required his presence before the entire council.
“I'm sorry to hear that,” Eldric said. “But I assume you didn't bring me here simply to tell me someone has died.”
“No.” The Elder reached beneath the folds of his robe and withdrew something Eldric couldn't immediately identify. As the object came into the firelight, metal caught the dancing flames and reflected them across the chamber walls.
A heavy iron ring hung from the Elder's hand, crowded with keys of different shapes and sizes. Some appeared ordinary, while others were unlike any keys Eldric had ever seen. Their shafts were unusually long, their teeth twisted into strange patterns, and unfamiliar symbols had been carved deeply into the darkened metal. The Elder allowed the keys to hang between them for several moments before finally speaking. “The man who died was the Gate Keeper.”
Eldric's eyes lifted slowly from the keys to the Elder's face. For the first time since entering the chamber, he had nothing to say. The other Elders remained motionless, their attention fixed upon the oldest among them, waiting for him to ask the question they all knew was coming. Eldric shifted uncomfortably in the chair as he began to understand why he had been summoned, but that understanding brought another question with it. Why him? Surely there were younger men who could accept such a responsibility, men with more strength and many more years ahead of them.
The oldest Elder stepped away from the others and approached him. “Eldric, will you step forward and become the next Gate Keeper?”
Eldric didn't answer immediately. He looked from one Elder to the next, searching their faces for some explanation they had not yet given him. “Why me? Why not someone much younger? I'm an old man now.” He stroked his long white beard as he waited, wondering if perhaps they had mistaken wisdom for simply having survived longer than most.
“Your age is one of the reasons you were chosen,” the Elder explained. “The gates offer possibilities that could become very tempting to someone who hasn't lived long enough to understand the consequences of his choices. A younger man might see opportunity where he should see responsibility. He might begin to wonder what those other worlds could offer him, what he could take from them, or what power controlling the gates might give him. You have lived long enough to know that power always carries a price. We believe you will use wisdom where another might seek advantage.”
Eldric lowered his eyes toward the keys again. As much as he disliked admitting it, their reasoning made sense. Simply knowing that doors existed to other worlds had already awakened questions in his own mind, and he had known of their existence for only a few minutes. What might that knowledge do to someone who possessed the keys for years? A man could convince himself that opening one gate for his own purposes would do no harm, and once he had done it the first time, the second would become much easier. Perhaps age really had taught Eldric one thing worth knowing: the most dangerous choices rarely looked dangerous when they were first made.
“Can I have some time to think about this?” Eldric asked as he pushed himself from the chair. He walked back toward the fireplace and held his hands toward the flames, keeping his back to the men behind him. “You've obviously had time to discuss this and decide that I'm the man you want. I've had only a few minutes to consider leaving everything and everyone I've ever known.”
“You may have fifteen minutes,” the oldest Elder replied.
Eldric turned around so quickly that the hem of his coat brushed against the stones surrounding the fireplace. “Fifteen minutes? You expect me to decide the rest of my life in fifteen minutes?”
“The gates cannot remain unguarded for long,” the Elder said. There was no anger in his voice and no attempt to pressure Eldric beyond the simple truth of the situation. “We have already left them without a keeper longer than any of us are comfortable with. Take the time we can give you, Eldric. When we return, we will need your answer.”
Before Eldric could argue that fifteen minutes hardly qualified as time at all, the Elders turned and filed silently from the chamber. The door closed behind the last of them, leaving him alone once again with the crackling fire and far more questions than he had possessed when he entered the room.
He shook his head and stared into the flames, trying to understand how his ordinary morning had become a decision about whether he would leave his world entirely. Somewhere beyond the stone walls, wind pressed against a shutter and let go, and for one foolish moment he found himself listening for footsteps instead of answers. Fifteen minutes to decide whether he would walk away from the only life he had ever known and enter a place he had never seen. His thoughts immediately went to his family. What would he tell them? Could he simply disappear from their lives because a council of old men had decided he possessed enough wisdom to guard a collection of doors? More importantly, what about his wife? Could she come with him? Would he be permitted to return home to see her, or did accepting the keys mean leaving everyone he loved behind forever?
The questions came faster than he could answer them, and he found himself pacing a tight line in front of the fire before he caught himself and forced his feet still again. He tried to imagine explaining any of this to his wife and could almost see the expression that would cross her face. She would probably stare at him for several seconds before asking whether age had finally taken what little sense he had left. Under different circumstances, the thought might have made him laugh. Instead, it reminded him that he could not give the Elders an answer until he understood exactly what they were asking him to sacrifice.
The fire cracked loudly, sending a small shower of sparks upward, and Eldric suddenly realized he had no idea how much of his fifteen minutes remained. He had spent nearly all of it asking himself questions that only the Elders could answer. When the door finally opened behind him, he turned expecting the entire council to return, but only the oldest Elder stepped into the chamber. The ring of keys hung from one hand, while the other held a tall staff unlike anything Eldric had ever seen. The Elder closed the door behind him and crossed the room slowly, stopping several feet from the fireplace.
“Your fifteen minutes are over,” he said, resting the end of the staff against the stone floor. He made no attempt to hand either it or the keys to Eldric, but the objects between them made the reason for his return obvious.
Eldric looked at the keys and staff before meeting the man's eyes. “Then I'm afraid I still don't have an answer for you. You've asked me to leave my world without telling me whether I'll ever be allowed to return. You haven't told me where I'll live, what waits on the other side of those gates, or even what being Gate Keeper truly requires of me. Most importantly, you haven't told me what happens to my wife. If you expect me to make this decision, those are things I need to know.”
The Elder's stern expression softened slightly, as though Eldric had finally asked exactly what he had been waiting to hear. He moved closer to the fire and extended his hands toward its warmth before answering. “Then perhaps your fifteen minutes were not wasted. A man interested only in the gates would have spent that time wondering where they led. A man interested in power would have wondered what he could do with the keys. You spent it wondering what accepting them would mean to the people you love. That is one of the reasons you are standing in this room.”
Eldric studied him for a moment before glancing again at the keys. “That still doesn't answer my question.”
“No,” the Elder replied, allowing the faintest hint of a smile to touch his face. “So let us begin with your wife.”
Eldric's heart began to pound harder than he expected as he waited for the Elder's answer. The question alone had made his chest ache, because no matter how important the gates might be, he already knew there was one sacrifice he could not make. He could leave his home, the familiar streets he had walked for most of his life and even the world in which he had been born, but he could not leave his wife behind. Taking a deep breath, he tried to prepare himself for whatever answer was coming. “Will she be able to come with me? Because if she can't, then I can't go. I won't leave her behind.”
The Elder's expression softened, and when he answered, the stern authority Eldric had heard earlier was replaced by something much kinder. “Yes, Eldric. Your wife may go with you. In truth, we would prefer that she does. Someone will have to make certain you remember to eat, sleep and occasionally step away from those gates. From what we know of you, she may prove nearly as valuable there as you will.”
The tension that had been building in Eldric's shoulders eased, and his hands, which he hadn't realized he'd clenched into fists, slowly relaxed at his sides. He looked toward the fire for a moment, imagining the conversation he would soon have to have with his wife. She might think he had lost his mind when he first told her, but at least he would be asking her to begin a new life beside him rather than telling her goodbye.
When Eldric turned back toward the Elder, the uncertainty that had filled his face only moments earlier had changed. There were still questions—far too many of them—but the one answer that mattered most had been given. “I'll do it,” he said, his voice steadier now. “But before I take those keys, I need to understand how this works. You say I'm supposed to protect the gates, but you haven't told me who—or what—I'm protecting them from.”
The Elder studied him for several moments before looking down at the keys in his hand. “That is the first thing you must understand, Eldric. Your duty is not simply to protect the gates from someone trying to enter.”
He lifted his eyes again.
“Sometimes your duty will be to protect the worlds beyond them from us.”
