White Gold Wielder, Chapter 19: Hold Possession

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Furls Fire
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White Gold Wielder, Chapter 19: Hold Possession

Post by Furls Fire »

White Gold Wielder, Chapter 19: Hold Possession

Hail all my Watch sisters and brothers! I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to get this together and do it justice, but I found the time. And I’m so happy I did, because once again, I am able to do honor to my hero: Thomas Covenant.

So everyone…

Come with me inside Mount Thunder, ancient Gravin Threndor, Peak of the Fire Lions. It was here, 3000 years ago, that Ur-Lord Thomas Covenant, High Lord Prothall, Lord Mhoram and company recovered the Staff of Law from Drool Rockworm. Full circle, for it was inside Kiril Threndor that the Unbeliever was first summoned, it was here he first heard the Despiser’s voice. And now, it will be here Thomas Covenant enacts the ultimate sacrifice to Despite…

Take me to Foul, I’ll give him the ring.

Ah my heart!!!

And Linden is powerless, possessed by moksha Jehannum. She hears the words come out from Covenant’s lips and wants to scream at him. Believing he has gone completely mad.

He was smiling like a sacrifice.

And the Raver is laughing. Urging her to let go and not fight him. Urging her to just let herself sink into mindlessness and let him completely possess her. She refuses.
She had already failed in the face of Joan’s need—been stricken helpless by the mere sight of Marid’s desecration. Gibbon’s touch had reft her of mind and will. But since then she had learned to fight.
You go girl!
…if she let herself go on down the blind road of her paralysis, there would be no one left to so much as wish him stopped. Therefore she bore the pain. Moksha Jehannum crowded every nerve with nausea, filled every heartbeat with vitriol and dismay, shredded her with every word and movement. Yet she heeded the call of Covenant’s fierce eyes and flagrant intent. Consciously, she clung to herself and refused oblivion, remained where the Raver could hurt her and hurt her, so that she would be able to watch.

And try.
She watches as the Raver inside her mocks Covenant..
”Will you?” chortled her throat and mouth. “You are belatedly come to wisdom, groveler.” She raged at that epithet: he did not deserve it. But moksha only mocked him
more trenchantly. "Yet your abasement has been perfectly prophesied. Did you fear for your life among the Cave-wights? Your fear was apt. Anile as the Dead, they would have slain you—and blithely would the ring have been seduced from them. From the moment of your summoning,
all hope has been folly! All roads have led to the Despiser's triumph, and all struggles have been vain. Your petty—"

"I'm sick of this," rasped Covenant. (LOL!!! That cracks me up every time I read it. Utterly Covenant!) He was hardly able to stay on his feet—and yet the sheer force of his determination
commanded the Ravers, sent an inward quailing through them. "Don't flatter yourselves that I'm going to break down here." Linden felt moksha's trepidation and shouted at it, Coward! then gritted her teeth and gagged for bare life as its fury crashed down on her. But Covenant could not see what was happening to her, the price she paid for defiance. Grimly, he went on, "You aren't going to get my ring. You'll be lucky if he even lets you live when he's finished with me." His eyes flashed, as hard as hot marble. “Take me to him”.

"Most assuredly, groveler," moksha Jehannum riposted. "I tremble at your will."
And so my friends, let’s follow as the Raver possessing Linden leads Thomas Covenant to Kiril Threndor, The Heart of Thunder. The place where the outcome of the Earth will be decided.
The cave was large, a round, high chamber. Entrances gaped, like mute cries, stretched in eternal pain, around its circumference. The walls glared rocklight in all directions.
They were shaped entirely into smooth, irregular facets which cast their illumination like splinters at Linden's eyes. And that sharp assault was whetted and multiplied by a myriad
keen reflections from the chamber's ceiling. There the stone gathered a dense cluster of stalactites, as bright and ponderous as melting metal. Among them swarmed a chiaroscuro of
orange-red gleamings.

But no light seemed to touch the figure that stood on a low dais in the middle of the time-burnished floor. It rose there like a pillar, motionless and immune to revelation. It might have been the back of a statue or a man; perhaps it was as tall as a Giant. Even the senses of the Raver saw nothing certainly. It appeared to have no color and no clear shape or size. Its outlines were blurred as if they transcended recognition. But it radiated power like a shriek through the
echoing rocklight.

The air reeked of sulfur—a stench so acrid that it would have brought tears to her eyes if it had not given such pleasure to her possessor. But under that rank odor lay a different scent, a smell more subtle, insidious, and consuming than any brimstone. A smell on which moksha fed like an
addict.

A smell of attar. The sweetness of the grave.
Full circle..

We see him, Lord Foul, the Despiser. His eyes were the only precise part of him.
Eyes as bitter as fangs, carious and cruel; eyes of deliberate force, rabid desire; eyes wet with venom and insatiation.
And they are boring into Linden. Looking past moksha, searching her for surrender. She gives him none.
"To you I do not speak." His voice came from the rocklight and the heat, from the reek of attar and the chiaroscuro of the stalactites—a voice as deep as Mount Thunder's bones and veined with savagery. Orange-red facets glittered and glared in every word. "I have not spoken to you. There was no need—is none. I speak to set the feet of my hearers upon the paths I design for them, but your path has been mine from the first. You have been well bred to serve me, and all your choices conduce to my ends. To attain that which I have desired from you has been a paltry exercise, scarce requiring effort. When I am free"—she heard a grin in the swarming reflections—"you will accompany me, so that your present torment may be prolonged forever. I will gladly mark myself upon such flesh as yours."
What a chilling thought!!! Linden!! Doomed to the same fate as Elena, only Linden’s would be eternal torment where as Elena was released by the Staff of Law’s destruction. But, with the Arch destroyed, there would be no more Law, no more hope. There would only be Despite’s freedom to wreck havoc on her and the universe..
With her mouth, the Raver giggled tense and sweating approval. The Despiser's gaze nailed dismay into her. She was as abject as she had ever been, and she tried to wail; but no
sound came.

Then she would have let go. But Covenant did not. His eyes were midnight with rage for her; his passion refused to be crushed. He looked hardly capable of taking another step—yet he came to her aid.

"Don't kid yourself," he snapped like a jibe. "You're already beaten, and you don't even know it. All these threats are just pathetic."

Assuredly he was out of bis mind. But his sarcasm shifted the Despiser toward him. Linden was left to the cunning tortures of her possessor. They slashed and flayed at her, showed her in long whipcuts all the atrocities an immortal could commit against her. But when Lord Foul's gaze left her, she found that she was still able to cling. She was stubborn enough for that.
Alright, everyone, here we go. Round Two: Thomas Covenant, Ur-lord and Illender, White Gold Weilder and Prover of Life, Giantfriend and Earthfriend; against Lord Foul, The Despiser, Satansheart Soulcrusher, Fangthane the Render, the Gray Slayer…Corruption.

(Didn’t I also do Round One?)
"Ah," the Despiser rumbled like the sigh of an avalanche, "at last my foeman stands before me. He does not grovel—but groveling has become needless. He has spoken words
which may not be recalled. Indeed, his abasement is complete though he is blind to it He does not see that he has sold himself to a servitude more demeaning than prostration. He has become the tool of my Enemy, no longer free to act against me. Therefore he submits himself, deeming in his cowardice that here the burden of havoc and ruin will pass from him." Soft laughter made the rocklight throb; mute Shrieks volleyed from the walls. "He is the Unbeliever in all sooth. He does not believe that the Earth's doom will at last be laid to his charge.

"Thomas Covenant"—he took an avid step forward—"the spectacle of your puerile strivings gives me glee to repay my long patience, for your defeat has ever been as certain as my
will Were I to be foiled, the opportunity belonged to your companion, not to you—and you see how she has availed herself of it." With one strong, blurred arm, he made a gesture toward Linden that nearly unseated her reason. Again, he laughed; but his laughter was devoid of mirth. "Had she seduced you of the ring—ah, then would I have been tested. But therefore did I choose her, a woman altogether unable to turn aside from my desires.

"You are a fool" he went on, "for you have known yourself doomed, and yet you have come to me. Now I require your soul." The heat of his voice filled Linden's lungs with suffocation. Moksha Jehannum shivered, hungry for violence and ravage. The Despiser sounded unquestionably sane—but that only made him more terrible. One of his hands—a bare smear across the Raver's sight—seemed to curl into a fist; and Covenant was jerked forward, within Lord Foul's reach. The walls spattered light like sobs, as if Mount Thunder itself were appalled.

As soft as the whisper of death, the Despiser said, "Give the ring to me."
Oh yadda yadda yadda…what a winded Despiser he is…Covenant, of course, has no use for all this blather. His purpose is certain, he knows what he needs to do, He knows that by doing it he will save or damn the Earth. You are the White Gold. By God, YES!! Paradox personified. Oh, but the price! Ah, my hero!
"Talk's cheap. You can say anything you want. But you're wrong, and you ought to know it. This time you've gone too far. What you did to Andelain. What you're doing to Linden—" He swallowed acid. "We aren't enemies. That's just another lie. Maybe you believe it—but it's still a lie. You should see yourself. You're even starting to look like me." The special gleam of his gaze reached Linden like a gift. He was irremediably insane—or utterly indomitable. "You're just another part of me. Just one side of what it means to be human. The side that hates lepers. The poisonous side." His certainty did not waver at all. "We are one."
And in being one there is hope…

Yet, we can’t see it. Not here, not at this moment…
His assertion made Linden gape at what he had become. But it only drew another laugh from the Despiser—a short, gruff bark of dismissal. "Do not seek to bandy truth and falsehood with me," he replied. "You are too inane for the task. Lies would better serve the trivial yearning which you style love. The truth damns you here. For three and a half millennia I have mustered my will against the Earth in your absence, groveler. I am the truth. And I have no use for the sophistry of your Unbelief." He leveled his voice at Covenant like the blade of an axe. Fragments of rocklight shot everywhere but could not bring his intense form into any kind of focus. "Give the ring to me."

Covenant's visage slackened as if he were made ill by the necessity of his plight. But still he withheld submission. Instead, he changed his ground. "At least let Linden go." His stance took on an angle of pleading. "You don't need her anymore. Even you should be satisfied with how much she's been hurt. I've already offered her my ring once. She refused it Let her go."

In spite of everything, he was still trying to spare her.

Lord Foul's response filled Kiril Threndor. "Have done, groveler." Attar made the Raver ecstatic, wracked Linden. "You weary my long patience. She is forfeit to me by her own acts. Are you deaf to yourself? You have spoken words which can never be recalled." Concentrated venom dripped from his outlines. As distinct as the breaking of boulders, he demanded a third time, "Give the ring to me."

And Covenant went on sagging as though he bad begun to crumble. All his strength was gone. He could no longer pretend to hold himself upright. One by one, his loves had been stripped from him: he had nothing left. After all, he was only one ordinary man, small and human. Without wild magic, he was no match for the Despiser.

When he weakly lifted his half-band, began tugging the ring from his finger. Linden forgave him. No choice but to surrender it. He had done everything possible, everything conceivable, had surpassed himself again and again in his efforts to save the Land. That he failed now was cause for grief, but not for blame.

Only his eyes showed no collapse. They burned like the final dark, the last deep midnight where no Sunbane shone.

His surrender took no more than three heartbeats. One to raise his hand, take bold of the ring. Another to pull the band from his finger as if in voluntary riddance of marriage, love, humanity. A third to extend the immaculate white gold toward the Despiser.
Is this really happening??? NO!!!!!!!!

Ah, but Linden. Is she not well chosen??? Linden watches in dismay, fights the Raver that holds her. She searches deep inside herself for a means to break free from its hold…and she does!!!
She was evil. Her visceral response to the dark might of her tormentors gave her the stature of a Raver. And yet her instinct for healing falsified moksha. That contradiction no longer paralyzed her. She accepted it.

It gave her the power to choose.

Squalling like a butchered thing, the Raver fought her. But she had entered at last into her true estate. Moksha Jehannum was afraid of her. Her will rose up in its shackles. Tested the
iron of her possessor's malice. Took hold of the chains.

And broke free.

Lord Foul had not yet grasped the ring. There was still an instant of space between his hand and Covenant's. Rocklight yowled desire and triumph from the walls.

Linden did not move. She had no time to think of that. Motionless as if she were still frozen, she hurled herself forward. With her Land-born health-sense, she sprang into Covenant, scrambled toward the fiery potential of his wedding band.

Empowered by wild magic, she drew back his hand.

At that, rage swelled Lord Foul: he sent out a flood of fury which should have washed her away. But she ignored him. She was sure that he would not touch her now—not now, while she held possession of Covenant and the ring. She was suddenly strong enough to turn her back upon the
Despiser himself. The necessity of freedom protected her. The choice of surrender or defiance was hers to make.

In the silent privacy of his mind, she faced the man she loved and took all his burdens upon herself.
What a powerful thing…Love.

But, is this truly the answer? Take away Covenant’s will? Take away his purpose? Because she thinks he’s gone mad? Because she has lost her trust of his certainty? His determination halts her, His eyes hold her… You said you trusted me.
Yes, she said again. She had known all along that possession in every guise was evil; but she had tried to believe otherwise, both because she wanted power and because she wanted to
save the Land. Destruction and healing: death and life. She could have argued that even evil was justified to keep the white ring out of Lord Foul's grasp. But now she was truly weeping. Covenant had said, I'm going to find some other answer. That was the only promise which mattered.

Deliberately, she let him go—let love and hope and power go as if they were all one, too pure to be possessed or desecrated. Locking her cries in her throat, she turned and walked away across the lea. Out of sunshine into attar and rocklight

With her own eyes, she saw Covenant lift the ring once more as if his last fears were gone. With her own ears, she heard the savage relief of Lord Foul's laughter as he claimed his triumph. Heat and despair seemed to close over her like the lid of a coffin.
Sweet mercy. Words fail me here. No matter how many times I read this, I still lose my breath over what comes to pass… Ah, MY HERO!!!!

The ultimate sacrifice…

Foul now has the ring. Is the destruction of the Earth eminent?

Here at last I hold possession of all life and Time forever! Let my Enemy look to his survival and be daunted! Freed of my gaol and torment, I will rule the cosmos!
"Big deal. I could do the same thing—if I were as crazy as you." His certainty was unmatched. "It doesn't take power. Just delusion. You're out of your mind."

The Despiser swung toward Covenant. Wild magic effaced the rocklight, made Kiril Threndor scream white fire. "Groveler, I will teach you the meaning of my suzerainty!” His whole form rippled and blurred with ecstasy, violence. Only his carious eyes remained explicit, as cruel as fangs. They seemed to shred the substance from Covenant's bones. "I am your Master!"

He towered over Covenant; his arms rose in transport or imprecation. In one fist, he held the prize for which he had craved and plotted. The searing light he drew from the ring should have blinded Linden entirely, scorched her eyes out of their sockets. But from moksha Jehannum she had learned how to protect her senses. She felt that she was peering into the furnace of the desecrated sun; but she was still able to see.

Able to see the blow which Lord Foul hammered down on Covenant as if the wild magic were a dagger.

It made Mount Thunder lurch, snapped stalactites from the ceiling like a rain of spears which narrowly missed Linden. It slapped Covenant to the floor as if all his limbs had been broken. For an instant, a convulsion of lightning writhed over him. Power and coruscation like the immaculate silver-white of the ring clamored through him, shrilled along the lines of
his form. She tried to yell; but the air in her lungs had given out

When the blow passed, it left white flame spouting from the center of his chest.

The wound bled argent: all his blood was ablaze. Fire fountained from his gaping hurt, spat gouts and plumes of numinous and incandescent deflagration, untainted by any darkness or venom. During that moment, he looked like he was still alive.

But it was transitory. The fire faded rapidly. Soon it flickered and failed. His blasted husk lay on the floor and did not move again.
MY HERO!!! What price you paid! And how does this price cost the Earth???

Lord Foul is laughing.

Ware of me, my Enemy!

I hold the keystone of Time, and I will reave it to rubble! Oppose me if you dare!

But remember what Mhoram told Covenant…Remember…You are the White Gold.

And Linden…
Yet she moved. Crawling across the agonized lurch and shudder of the stone, she wrestled her weak body toward Covenant. She could not help him. She could not help herself. But she wanted to hold him in her embrace one more time. To ask his forgiveness, though he would never be able to hear her. Lord Foul had become to tremendous that only the edges of his gathering cataclysm were still discernable. She crept past him as if she were ignoring him. Battered and aggrieved of body and soul, she reached Covenant, sat beside him, lifted his head into her lap, and let her hair fall around his face.

In death, his visage wore a strange grimace of relief and pain. He looked like a man who was about to laugh and weep at the same time.

At least I trusted you, she replied. Whatever else I did wrong. I trusted you in the end.

Then anguish seized her heart.

You didn’t even say good-bye.
Remember…You are the White Gold.

Lord Foul’s triumphant fire mounts. But didn’t Covenant say, “It doesn’t take power…just delusion..”?
A maelstrom swept around him and grew as if he meant to break the Earth by consuming it alive. His fire was so extreme that it pulsed through the mountain, made all of Mount
Thunder pound. But gradually he pulled the flame into him-self, focused it in the hand that held the ring. Too bright to be beheld, his fist throbbed like the absolute heart of the world.

With a terrible cry, he hurled his globe-splitting power upward.

An instant later, his exaltation changed to astonishment and rage.

Somewhere in the rock which enclosed Kiril Threndor, his blast shattered. Because it was aimed at the Arch of Time, it was not an essentially physical force, though the concussion of its delivery nearly reft Linden of consciousness. It did no physical damage. Instead, it burst as if it had struck a mid-ight sky and snapped. In a fathomless abyss, ruptured fragments of fire shot and blazed.

And the hot lines of light spread like etchwork, merged and multiplied swiftly, took shape within the bulk of the mountain. From wild magic and nothingness, they created a sketch of a man.

A man who had placed himself between Lord Foul and the Arch of Time.

The outlines gained substance and feature as they absorbed the Despiser's attack.

Thomas Covenant.

He stood there inside Mount Thunder's gutrock, a specter altogether different than the ponderous stone. All which remained of his mortal being was the grimace of power and grief that marked his countenance. "No!" the Despiser howled. "NO!"
YES!!!!!!!!!!! BY GOD! YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YOU ARE THE WHITE GOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But Covenant replied, "Yes." He had no earthly voice, made no human sound. Yet he could be heard through the clamor of tormented stone, the constant repercussions of Lord Foul's fury. Linden listened to him as if he were as clear as a trumpet "Brinn showed me the way. He beat the Guardian of the One Tree by sacrificing himself, letting himself fall. And Mhoram told me to 'Remember the paradox of white gold.' But for a long time I didn't understand. I'm the
paradox. You can't take the wild magic away from me."
Then he seemed to move forward, concentrating more intensely on the Despiser. His command was as pure as whitefire. "Put down the ring."

"Never!" Lord Foul shouted instantly- Might leaped in him, wild for use. "I know not what chicane or madness has brought you before me from the Dead—but it will not avail! You have once cast me down! I will not suffer a second debasement! Never! The white gold is mine, freely given! If you combat me. Death itself will not ward you from my Wrath!"

Something like a smile sharpened the specter's acute face. "I keep telling you you're wrong. I wouldn't dream of fighting you."

Lord Foul's retort was a bolt that sizzled the air like frying meat. Power fierce enough to blow off the crown of the peak sprang at Covenant, raging for his immolation.

He did not oppose it, made no effort to resist or evade the attack. He simply accepted it The clench of pain between his brows showed that he was hurt; but he did not flinch. The blast raved and scourged into him until Linden feared that even a dead soul could not survive it. Yet when it ended he had taken it all upon himself. Bravely, be stood forth from the fire.

"I'm not going to fight you." Even now, he seemed to pity his slayer. "All you can do is hurt me. But pain doesn't last. It just makes me stronger." His voice held a note of sorrow for the Despiser. "Put down the ring."

But Lord Foul was so far gone in fury and frustration that he might have been deaf. "No!" he roared again. No fear hampered him: he was transported to the verge of absolute violence.

"No!”

"N0!”

And with every cry he flung his utterest force against the Unbeliever.

Blast after blast, faster and faster. Enough white power to bring Mount Thunder down in rubble, cast it off Landsdrop into the ruinous embrace of Sarangrave Flat. Enough to leave the One Tree itself in ash and cinders. Enough to shatter the Arch of Time. All Lord Foul's ancient puissance was multiplied and channeled by the argent ring. He struck and struck, the unanswerable knell of his hunger adumbrating through Kiril Threndor until Linden's mind reeled and her life almost
stopped, unable to support the magnitude of his rage. She clung to Covenant's body as if it were her last anchor and fought to endure and stay sane while Lord Foul strove to rip down the essential definition of the Earth.

But each assault hit nothing except the specter, hurt nothing except Covenant. Blast after blast, he absorbed the power of Despite and fire and became stronger. Surrendering to their
savagery, he transcended them. Every blow elevated him from the mere grieving spectation of the Dead in Andelain, the ritualized helplessness of the Unhomed in Coercri, to the stature of pure wild magic. He became an unbreakable bulwark raised like glory against destruction.

At the same time, each attack made Lord Foul weaker. Covenant was a barrier the Despiser could not pierce because it did not resist him; and he could not stop. After so many millennia of yearning, defeat was intolerable to him. In accelerating frenzy, he flung rage and defiance and immitigable hate at Covenant. Yet each failed blow cost him more of himself. His substance frayed and thinned, denatured moment by moment, as his attacks grew more reckless and extravagant. Soon he had reduced himself to such evanescence that he was barely visible.

And still he did not stop. Surrender was impossible for him. If he had not been limited and confined by the mortal Time of his prison, he would have gone on forever, seeking Covenant's eradication. For a while, his form guttered and wailed as complete fury drove him to the threshold of banishment. Then he failed and went out.

Though she was stunned and stricken. Linden heard the faint metallic clink of the ring when it fell to the dais and rolled to a stop.
Thomas Covenant, Ur-lord and Illender, Prover of Life, Giantfriend, Earthfriend, Keystone, Wild Magic Incarnate…Yours is the Power that Preserves!

HAIL!!
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.


~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~

~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~

...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.

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dlbpharmd
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Post by dlbpharmd »

Ah, wonderful - absolutely wonderful! Well done, Furlsy!
Now I require your soul.
<chills>
YES!!!!!!!!!!! BY GOD! YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YOU ARE THE WHITE GOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LMAO! I LOVE IT!
You can't take the wild magic away from me."
This supports what SRD says about Covenant and the wild magic in the GI. If anyone other than Covenant attempts to use wild magic, then Covenant must support that use. Hile Troy was able to use the wild magic at Gallows Howe because Covenant wanted him to save Elena. Linden was able to use wild magic (sometimes even without Covenant's direct consent) because on at least a subconsious level, Covenant supported her use. But here - Foul would never be able to use the wild magic to destroy the Arch, because Covenant would never allow it.
Then he failed and went out.
For the people of the Land; the Unhomed; the Ranyhyn; for Korik, Sill and Doar; for corrupting the Earthpower with Sunbane; for sacrificing innocent Stonedownors, Woodhelvin and Haruchai; for Seadreamer and Honninscrave; and for Thomas Covenant:

Good riddance, you sorry bastard.
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Furls Fire
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Post by Furls Fire »

It all comes down to Mhoram telling him the truth about the paradox. Covenant himself was the wild magic and the ring was his tool to unleash himself. The ring was only half of it...

You are the white gold
dlpsy wrote:Good riddance, you sorry bastard.
Amen!!! :x :D
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.


~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~

~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~

...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.

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Post by duchess of malfi »

dlbpharmd wrote: Good riddance, you sorry bastard.

AMEN!!!!! 8)

And a great job, Furlsy. :D
Love as thou wilt.

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tonyz
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Post by tonyz »

One thing to look at in Foul's words: he never speaks to anyone unless he needs something from them. So why speak to Linden at all? Obviously he must need/want something from her -- perhaps too obviously, he needs her to not stop Covenant (at least so he thinks).

Possibly he's lying. Possibly he just enjoys the thought of tormenting her and Covenant.

But maybe there's something else in his words. Any thoughts?
Choiceless, you were given the power of choice. I elected you for the Land but did not compel you to serve my purpose in the Land... Only thus could I preserve the integrity of my creation.
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Post by Gadget nee Jemcheeta »

I thought he was using those words to cause despair in the heart of Linden, just in case she did try something. I think its more than likely that he knew that she would be able to throw off the raver. I don't think there's any way that she could have truly bested Lord Foul with as little experience with White Gold as she did, and with the hatred she had in her heart.

She still believed that some infections had to be cut out... covenant apparently did not, either by the end of the first chronicles, or by this one.

I'm glad I finally stumbled into this forum by the way. A bit late though... I was just curious, is it ok to respond to older dissections, or is that unwelcome? I mean in their individual threads of course...
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Post by danlo »

JemCheeta wrote:I'm glad I finally stumbled into this forum by the way. A bit late though...I was just curious, is it ok to respond to older dissections, or is that unwelcome? I mean in their individual threads of course...
Please do! That's the point. Just try not to spoil forward of that particular chapt...
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Post by Gadget nee Jemcheeta »

K, sure thing..... I'll just go back and do some reading then :) Ciao
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Post by srtrout »

Terrific job, Furls!

This chapter is the opposite of the previous chapter, ineptly dissected by yours truly and named "The Darkest Hour".

We now enter the time of the greatest light for people of the land; their Dawn beginning the era when they will go for many years without the evil influence of Lord Foul.

I was elated to first read this chapter when it was first published over 20 years ago. I was surprised to see how Covenant managed to both surrender the ring and succeed in defeating Foul.

I must again openly confess my Christian background here; this was a Christ-like act that Covenant took; both in surrendering his power and in sacrificing his own life for the good of others.

There is an interesting way to consider this parallel. John Howard Yoder in his book "The Politics of Jesus" suggests that Jesus had a true choice to make on the cross: to surrender, and defeat evil in that unusual way; or to take up the power available to him and use it to fight back. This is very similar to what Covenant did.

In retrospect, it may not seem like that much of a sacrifice for either of them. Covenant knew he would die (in the real world) anyway. Jesus had faith he would live after death. Neither the scriptural depiction nor the Covenant story tell us just how much doubt that had, how much fear they had that their plan wouldn't work. In our "real world", how often do we truly admire the person or nation that takes the non-violent or sacrificial way of avoiding violence instead of trying to win their goals by their power? (Guess who I voted for President!)

So, an even more interesting story might be if Covenant's plan hadn't worked and Foul truly got the victory! I asked SRD about this in the gradual interview (October) and he said something about how readers might not flock to a story where Foul truly prevailed. Of course, that does happen in the real world too often.

So, this is a great end to a great story. SRD said that in the First Chronicle that Covenant defeats Foul; in the second he surrenders to Foul. I don't see how he truly surrendered, it was just a ploy to defeat him. He then said that in the third Chronicles he becomes Foul!. It will only take 9 or 10 years to find out what he meant by that!

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Post by matrixman »

Your heartfelt passion for these books shines through in your dissections, Furls, and we love you for it. Bravo!! (Brava?) :R
Only his eyes showed no collapse. They burned like the final dark, the last deep midnight where no Sunbane shone.
Hmmm...some kind of hint for the Last Chronicles? 8O
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Post by I'm Murrin »

I'm interested by this bit:
"I'm not going to fight you." Even now, he seemed to pity his slayer. "All you can do is hurt me. But pain doesn't last. It just makes me stronger." His voice held a note of sorrow for the Despiser. "Put down the ring."

But Lord Foul was so far gone in fury and frustration that he might have been deaf. "No!" he roared again. No fear hampered him: he was transported to the verge of absolute violence.

"No!”

"N0!”
Covenant not only doesn't want to fight him, he asks him to put down the ring - in which case, Foul would abandon his futile attempt to break free, but he would not have been stopped, he would still have had his power. What did Covenant intend? Had Foul not been blinded by fury, what would have occurred?
I feel that this question is important to the outcome of the Last Chronicles.
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Post by danlo »

"To you I do not speak." His voice came from the rocklight and the heat, from the reek of attar and the chiaroscuro of the stalactites -- a voice as deep as Mount Thunder's bones and veined with savagery. Orange-red facets glittered and glared in every word. "I have not spoken to you. There was no need -- is none. I speak to set the feet of my hearers upon the paths I design for them, but your path has been mine from the first. You have been well bred to serve me, and all your choices conduce to my ends. To attain that which I have desired from you has been a paltry exercise, scarce requiring effort. When I am free" -- she heard a grin in the swarming reflections -- "you will accompany me, so that your present torment may be prolonged forever. I will gladly mark myself upon such flesh as yours."
It's weird, but while I was rereading this part in preparation for my, the final 2nd Chrons, dissection I actually forgot, for the 1st time, that Foul was talking to Linden. Of course he is but I truly felt, this time, that he was talking directly to moksha. As if the Raver was nothing to him only a tool despite all the havoc he has reeked over the ages in Foul's behalf. Perhaps it's just the echoes of what TC said earlier, "You'll be lucky if he even lets you live when he's finished with me." but still Foul could be talking to both the Raver and Linden at the same time...the word "choices" distinguishes the two, tho, as Ravers don't really have them...(or do they?)
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Post by Gadget nee Jemcheeta »

I believe so... I think they hated the Land and Earthpower all by their lonesome. Although what sort of twisted logic would lead someone to that choice is beyond me.
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Post by SoulBiter »

Murrin wrote:I'm interested by this bit:
"I'm not going to fight you." Even now, he seemed to pity his slayer. "All you can do is hurt me. But pain doesn't last. It just makes me stronger." His voice held a note of sorrow for the Despiser. "Put down the ring."

But Lord Foul was so far gone in fury and frustration that he might have been deaf. "No!" he roared again. No fear hampered him: he was transported to the verge of absolute violence.

"No!”

"N0!”
Covenant not only doesn't want to fight him, he asks him to put down the ring - in which case, Foul would abandon his futile attempt to break free, but he would not have been stopped, he would still have had his power. What did Covenant intend? Had Foul not been blinded by fury, what would have occurred?
I feel that this question is important to the outcome of the Last Chronicles.
Whether it was intended or not.. it appears to have had the effect of driving Foul past the brink of rational thought. Perhaps this was intentional on Covenants part. He knows that if Foul takes a moment to consider.. he can just dismiss Covenant.

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Post by wayfriend »

Nice 'section, FF.

Silliness:
"To you I do not speak. I have not -"
"You just did."
"Eh, what?!"
"You just spoke to her."
"So?"
"You said, 'To you I do not speak', but you spoke to her when you said it. Doesn't make much sense."
"Do you think so, groveler? I will teach you -"
"*cough*Idiot."
"What?!?!"
"Nothing."

Okay, seriously.

Covenant must have had a clear idea about how to defeat Foul in advance of this Confrontation. When do you suppose this happened? We can tell from some things that he says that he has this idea already (or can we?) but can we tell when he came to his revelation? It could have been any time in WGW, but, from his own admission, it would not have been way back at the beginning.
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Post by Furls Fire »

I would have to say it was when he emerged from the Bane Fire. Completely venom free. It was then he knew what he had to do. He realized fully what Mhoram had meant by "you are the white gold."

"the ring is wild magic...but I am the white gold too."

"I'm going to explain a few things to him."

He knew then...
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.


~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~

~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~

...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.

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Post by Fist and Faith »

Furls, I just started reading the Dissections of the last few chapters for the first time. YOU are a JOY to read!!! Holy cow, your passion is a beautiful thing!!!
Furls Fire wrote:You go girl!
That's the best use of that phrase I've ever seen!! :lol:
Furls Fire wrote:Ah, but Linden. Is she not well chosen???
She is! OH, she is!!!
Furls Fire wrote:YES!!!!!!!!!!! BY GOD! YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
BANGARANG!!!! Covenant sure pulled this one out of a hat! Who could have imagined this ending??? Kevin was right - he WAS going to give his ring to Foul! For all the good it did Foul! LOL


Seeing Linden fight off possession is an incredible thing. SRD certainly put her throught the ringer to get her to this point, which is why it's so believable! And he describes the whole process in such detail that it seems less like a fantasy work than a first-hand account.
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest
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Furls Fire
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Post by Furls Fire »

LOL!! Well better late than never Fist :) :)
And I believe in you
altho you never asked me too
I will remember you
and what life put you thru.


~fly fly little wing, fly where only angels sing~

~this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you~

...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.

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Post by Fist and Faith »

heh
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest
-Paul Simon
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Post by Grimmand Honninscrave »

Could it be that Foul was a part of Covenant also. He was a writer what makes him a creator of sorts and Foul could be the reverse part of him. Just a thought. :roll:
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