Even though the other party had put it that way, Zhang Yuan knew full well what a tremendous favor this was—and what a risky investment it represented. Five hundred gold was no small sum. As the other party had said, even selling himself would not be enough to repay it.
Besides, there were plenty of better things to invest that money in. Why invest in a rookie mercenary who had only just started out? The target of the investment might well die on some mission before ever becoming a mage.
What were they after? Since Zhang Yuan could not make sense of their intentions no matter how he thought about it, he simply asked outright, "Why are you helping me this much? Is it worth it?"
"Of course it isn't!" The old mage's blunt reply nearly choked him. "But we're betting on a future."
"The future?"
Ignoring the curious young man, Banterley seemed to recall something, or perhaps he was talking to himself. "Not long ago, an old friend of mine⑴ came to visit and told me that the prophet Aranndor's prophecy would eventually come true in the not-too-distant future."
"Roiling seas of blood will surge across the lands of the Sword Coast. Evil shadows will be born within the heart of a child of the gods and shroud the cities of mortals. The die of fate has been cast, and the gods await the answer." Old Banterley recited the prophetic verse in a tone resembling an aria. "And I, too, must add a stake."
After that, the old mage clammed up. No matter how Zhang Yuan questioned him, he refused to say another word.
With no other choice, Zhang Yuan silently followed Banterley out of the inn and into the Temple of Wisdom next door.
Inside, the vast and deserted hall was illuminated by several magical lamps that radiated a moon-white glow. The temple priestess—and Banterley's wife—Jelana Mirrorimage was praying alone.
The disturbance startled her. Once she realized the visitors were her husband and his companion, she came over. "It's so late. Why have you brought a guest here? And who is this?" Banterley immediately pulled her aside, and the two began whispering.
After quietly waiting for Banterley to finish explaining the whole affair, Jelana looked up at Zhang Yuan. "Hello, young mage. Please forgive our rudeness just now. Like my husband, I also feel that it would be a terrible waste for your talent to go unused."
Jelana regarded the young mage kindly with eyes that were still clear and bright despite the crow's-feet at their corners. "I know Banterley hasn't told you everything, and I understand your confusion. But I can tell you this: because of certain omens that cannot be spoken of openly, we need someone who can stand forth when the tides of fate come crashing in."
Zhang Yuan did not know whether to feel proud or terrified. Uneasily, he looked toward the woman nearing sixty. "You need an adventurer? Or a hero? You believe I can do it?"
Jelana smiled. "I don't."
Before Zhang Yuan, whose mouth had fallen open like a toad's, could say anything, she continued, "But no one is born a hero, and there is no wager in the game of fate that is guaranteed to win. I'm not asking you to do anything. I'm waiting for someone to do it."
Rarely had anyone trusted Zhang Yuan so completely or placed such high hopes in him. He had too many words jammed in his heart to voice, and all he could force out at that moment was one word: "Fine."
Jelana then told Zhang Yuan that she needed one night to memorize the spells and divine spells required for the construction ritual. "So the ritual will be held tomorrow morning. First, give me the two spell scrolls you want to learn so I can prepare them for the ritual."
After thinking for a while, Zhang Yuan decided to choose Sleep and Summon Monster I as the spells he would learn, making up for his lack of support abilities.
He handed over the scrolls, offered his thanks, and left. What happened after he returned to his room was not worth mentioning.
Lying in bed, Zhang Yuan finally had time to sort through everything that had happened that day. So much had occurred in a single evening, and after riding several roller coasters of soaring and plunging emotions, he was now almost numb.
First, he took stock of his gains. There was no doubt they were substantial. Not only had he obtained the Ring of Sorcery he had coveted for so long, he had also bought several reasonably useful spell scrolls at a bargain price. Of course, the greatest surprise was the Spell Infusion Ritual scheduled for tomorrow morning, even if it meant taking on a huge debt.
At this thought, Zhang Yuan could not help laughing aloud. This was practically a pie that had fallen from the sky.
Wait. A pie? Did pies really fall from the sky? Was this lunch truly free? Zhang Yuan's expression shifted unpredictably.
As for putting off the ritual's expenses and repaying them in the future, that was merely an excuse obvious to anyone with eyes. In truth, the Mirrorimages were performing the costly Spell Infusion Ritual for him free of charge.
But why? Did they really think that highly of him? Were they trying to win him over by paying a huge price while he was still starting out? Or were they exceptionally close to Captain Skar and simply extending that affection to him?
Feeling that both explanations were far too absurd, Zhang Yuan suddenly recalled fragments of what the Mirrorimages had said: fate, a child of the gods, a prophecy, Aranndor?!
Zhang Yuan shot upright in shock as he finally connected the clues. Whatever the Mirrorimages' objective was, it was certainly inseparable from the prophet Aranndor's prophecy.
As one of Faerûn's most widely celebrated prophets, Aranndor had made countless prophecies. Most of them had been preserved in the form of manuscripts at Candlekeep, the largest temple in the world devoted to Oma, the deity Aranndor served, and a treasury of knowledge—as well as Aranndor's own home.
Among those prophecies concerning the fate of Faerûn, the best known to people (players) was none other than the prophecy concerning Bhaal, the god of murder:
"The Lord of Murder shall be destroyed, but with his death shall come forth many mortal-blooded descendants. Chaos shall spread far and wide in their footsteps."
—Thus spoke the wise Aranndor.
If this was the prophecy of the great prophet Aranndor, then it was no wonder Banterley and the others acted as though they were facing a great enemy. But why him? And what did they intend to do about it?
Surely they did not believe he was also a child of Bhaal? What exactly did they want?
Besides, other than his innate spellcasting talent, there was nothing special about him. Could it be that the Mirrorimages were investing in him as a Child of Murder?
Carrying layer upon layer of doubts and a head full of questions, he drifted into a dream.
He awoke from a beautiful dream in which he had ascended Bhaal's throne and successfully become a god, only to discover that he still had not awakened his innate ability. Zhang Yuan sighed, packed his belongings, and went to wash up.
After finishing those trivial tasks, Zhang Yuan hurried down to the counter, but he could not find old Banterley anywhere. He waited for about fifteen minutes before the old mage finally arrived.
"I'm getting old. I don't have the energy you young people do." Banterley walked behind the counter, holding a pipe in one hand and pounding his aching lower back with the other. "Don't be in such a hurry. Jelana is still preparing the ritual vessels and casting materials."
A little restless, Zhang Yuan said, "Why don't I go help out?"
"Don't be ridiculous. What could a novice mage like you possibly help with? Just don't make things worse." The old mage snorted twice.
"Just sit tight and wait." He narrowed his eyes and blew out a smoke ring.
After quite some time, when the other party members had also emerged from their rooms in twos and threes, Priestess Jelana finally arrived.
Zhang Yuan had already informed Skar about the ritual. After bidding the captain farewell, he followed the Mirrorimages toward the Temple of Wisdom.
"We'll wait two hours for you. If you take any longer, you'll have to catch up with the caravan on your own." As the leader of the group, Skar could not leave the entire party waiting indefinitely.
Zhang Yuan waved to show that he had heard, then continued forward without looking back.
1. In the game, the Friendly Arm is suspected to be a secret Harpers meeting place. Members such as Elminster, Jaheira, and Khalid have all appeared there. The author also guesses that, as good-aligned mages, Banterley and Elminster probably have some connection, much like Gorion did.
P.S. The cheat ability goes online next chapter.
Before you continue