The Soul-linker To plumb the deeps of time is the scholar's high-minded and noble aim.

We see vistas of the past, distant in time and yet familiar in place, and the vibrance and freshness of the world in its youth. From whence the mountains and hills came, in the dark void of creation? What once roamed the unchartable meres and fens?Wherefrom do kings and emperors came? Such diverse questions are in every true scholar's mind. Too, we delight in gazing upon the future course of Time within our own lifetime, though it is forbidden to look into the future far away, under pain of death. But to have a glimpse of the forgotten ages, or of the ages to come, is not the ultimate goal in as much as to learn from the errors and undoings of our forefathers. The love of learning, or filling the thirst for curiosity, is the end. As we say in the Geffen School, that there is no consummate mage, wizard, sage, or any other practitioner of the arcane arts, who is not an ardent lover of philosophy, literature, history and science. Primus et suprema sapientia est - knowledge and wisdom are the first and the supreme. But to probe the long-forgotten past, with searching fingers and mind, would be fatal to one's sanity and mental strength if he peered over the cliffs where the world of humans and elves ended and the Great Darkness began. It is beyond our own comprehension, and beyond our own cares. Humanity, when compared with the vastness and emptiness of the Universe, is insignificant. What lies there in the cold, hard and uncharted lands? What meres and pools, moors and mountains are there in the planets, white and blinking in the night sky? The following is an account of my own astral traveling and soul-linking, which activity I had promised never to practice again for the rest of life, after I looked and shuddered into the very eyes of Death. The reader may well judge the credulity of my statements, but nonetheless shall not diminish the truth of my accounts. I had been very much fascinated with the very esoteric practice of soul-linking. Though much forbidden and shunned away by my professors, due to its undesirable consequences into one's own mind, it had become my hobby. Soul-linking is simply the chanting of spells that would summon greatest warriors of history and imbue their powers on the caster. The caster would possess powers far unattainable on his own, and beyond the limits of his physical body. A soul-linked assassin could kill even Death himself, so they say. To a soul-linker with a keen and open mind, the Dead would even speak of the past and of what is to come, However, the dire consequence is that over time, one's mind would break, and the body would age faster, due to the continuous exhaustion of one's own soul. It is as if the summoned souls would eat away one's own, as those souls would struggle to displace the latter, in a desire to have a body again and be among the living. Hence, it is considered a subject unspeakable in the School. There are a very few soul-linkers in the world, and those who practice it would never pass their knowledge outside of their own circle. Those few practitioners I have met have aged immensely in a short span of time, and some I had never met again. I learned the craft by reading through the annals and the spellbooks of soul-linkers in the School library. Gifted with a keen mind, I was able to master soul-linking in a few months. An amateur though I was, I was able to increase my spiritual powers tenfold and thus became the School's best duellist and spellcaster, without my professors thus knowing that I summoned history's greatest wizards and scholars - practitioners of the arcane arts whom even the best professors are not even worthy of comparison. For years I hid this terrible secret. I shunned away all social relations and became recluse scholar, fearing that the increase of my powers would be put into question. I lived alone in a solitary house in the woods of Geffen, beneath the feet of Mt. Mjolnir. There, I continued to master the craft in solitude, and purposed not merely to summon men and elves, but also the gods we worship, and thus rise to the equal of the heavens.

But I delved too deep in the forbidden knowledge. The Dead would not be silent, and speak they did. Every night I summoned the spirits of the past, and learned from them secrets too terrible and incomprehensible to learn. They talked incessantly, and I heard other voices in my head, clearly not of those whom I summoned. Visions passed through my mind, of the dark and terrible years before the coming of Elves and Men, and of the bleak future that shall come down upon us all. My spirit traversed the deeps of time and of stars, and sojourned among the inhabitants of other worlds. Every night was as long as the age of the Earth. Every morning, my body laid in stupor, exhausted to the point of death. Over time, I felt that my soul, spirit and body had weakened, their vitality and essence ate away. I aged faster. In actuality I was in my late twenties, but already there were lines forming in my face. It seemed as if I carried the burden of years, and my eyes looked dreamy and haggard. My gait and movement slowed, and were not dexterous as they once were. My mind were not as keen as before, and I began to hear voices, even in my waking state. Once, they invited me to a walk in the dark woods, but I feared and madly drove them away. My spirit wore away, as if the essence of life sapped all my strength and will. And then it happened. One night, haggard and exhausted from my studies, I began the summoning of spirits, as if it was routinary. I closed my eyes, and there visions of the ages of the world flashed through my mind. I gazed further and further. I saw a sea of faces of the long dead and of those who were to die. They called out my name. I saw battles fought and still to be fought, and of emperors that rose and fell. I saw RuneMidgard in its glory and height of power, and of previous kings unequaled in magnanimity. Then I turned my eyes into the Western lands, and found the once glorious city of Glast Heim. I saw tall pillars of marble, of great and proud statues, of everlasting monuments. I walked upon carpets of grass and hovered over crystal clear pools and fountains. Citizens, both the nobles and the commoners, fair and graceful, called upon my name. I bowed before the King in his bright halls, and spoke with him through his stern and searching eyes. I gazed upon the City in its noontide of glory and power. And then darkness came. I saw the walls crumble, and the waters darkened with filth. The weeds and vegetation overgrew, and the mighty monuments wasted away. The people of the City, once proud and fair, turned into creatures of darkness. They became ageless demons, and killed and revelled in the joy before their Dark Lord. In His eyes I saw great evil, and my spirit was eaten away by malice. I saw demons and evil spirits issuing in and out of the City. There was no life anymore in its vast halls, merely death and the luminescence of decay. I cried out. It was morning again. Though my body was weakened by fear and exhaustion, I rose and immediately burned my spellbooks on soul-linking. The voices they kept on calling again, and I feared that this time they might dispossess my weakened soul from my body. I shuddered at the vision that I half-remembered. With cold sweat running on my palms and face, I ran to the Geffen School to ask for exorcism, and for repentance that never again shall I peer into the forbidden knowledge.