The Fall of Hadran, or Yet Another Illustration of the Ill Effects of Romance upon the State

As Recounted by Methodius the Scholar, Barnacus 956 H.E.

Four and a half centuries ago, a cobbler's son by the name of Talifar was discovered to have an aptitude for scholarly pursuits. His father apprenticed him to the village's scholar, who, finding his abilities exceeded her own, sent him on to the magistry appointed celestial scholar, who quickly realized that the best place for the boy was the Towers of Hadran, where the best and brightest magicians of the Empire went to learn and practice their arts.

There, Talifar grew and learned and surpassed all his teachers with such alacrity that at the tender age of twenty he had fully mastered both the earth and celestial magics. A few years later, when the House Mage of the Empress died his final death, Talifar was selected to assume his place by the Empress Lytheria herself. The ceremony was a great cause for celebration in Hadran, and so, before all the people of the city, Lytheria bestowed the Staff of Mages to Talifar and thence led him to a banquet in his honor.

Talifar had never before laid eyes upon the Empress, for he had done little more than study and learn and practice what he had learned since he had arrived at the Towers. To his eyes, the Empress was the most beautiful, kind, gentle noblewoman he had ever known, her eyes as green as a sea he felt himself sinking into without so much as a last gasp. He stared at her all through the banquet, ignoring the suitors that flocked about her, vying for her hand and the throne.

In the months that followed, Talifar came to know the Empress through the many meetings he was required to attend as House Mage. When his duties to the Towers did not interfere, he worked feverishly to produce new, indispensable magics for her. It is rumored that he devised magics by which a person could be rendered invisible, or fly through the air like a bird, or even speak to the dead without the benefit of the Heroes' Graveyard. All these magics are, of course, lost to us now.

At last, the day came which Talifar dreaded most. Lytheria announced that she would be wedded upon Midsummer's Eve, though she would not reveal the lucky suitor's name for fear he would be obliterated by rivals. At his very next meeting with the Empress, Talifar released the hold he had kept upon his heart and told her of his love for her.

"Marry me," he said. "I can protect your Empire far better than those muscle-brained lackwits."

"Alas," she told him. "It cannot be. I am the Empress, and you, for all your power, are a cobbler's son."

"What does that matter?" Talifar cried. "Who will go against the will of the Empress?"

"My people matter," Lytheria replied calmly. "If something should happen to me, they will not follow you as Emperor. Chaos and death will reign instead. When the time comes for our children to ascend to the throne, the people will look to my brother's children, borne of a noble but petty Eastern woman instead, and war will take the throne. No, Talifar, so long as we remain in Hadran, what you ask cannot be."

At this, Talifar wailed a great cry of grief and fled the presence of the Empress. He locked himself in the highest room of the Celestial Tower and only allowed a little food and water to be passed through the slot in the door. The scholars of the Towers trembled, for often throughout the night they could feel great magics being wrought. Whispers flew that Talifar had gone mad, turned to necromancy or even worse. He was named the "Mad Mage" by many members of the court. Finally, on the morning that dawned Midsummer's Eve, Talifar sent for the Empress.

It is said that the Empress must have loved Talifar secretly, for dressed even in her wedding gown, she climbed the four hundred stairs of the tower and came to his room. There he flung open the door for her, and Lytheria gasped. Talifar stood within a Formal Circle, strange figures inscribed on the floor about his feet, his Staff of Mages glowing with unearthly light.

"Come," Talifar cried. "All is prepared."

"I do not understand," the Empress said, frightened by his rolling eyes.

"You said we could not be married in Hadran," the Mad Mage replied, "so I have found a way to take us from here, to a place where nobility matters not at all, and we shall have children and be happy."

The Empress gaped. "I cannot leave my people without a ruler."

"Let your brother take the throne, then," Talifar said impatiently. "Come, it is nearly time."

"No, Talifar," the Empress said. "I am betrothed to another. I cannot leave with you."

A look of desperation crossed the Mad Mage's face. "You must," he said. "You must or the Ritual will fail."

"Then it will fail," she replied.

"You do not understand," he cried. "You must come, now!"

"No," she responded, and she turned to leave.

Talifar howled in anguish, and the Staff lost its glow, for the most important component of the ritual had been his own hope. The Circle fell, and mighty magics rushed out, destroying the Mad Mage, the Empress, and in fact the entire city of Hadran. Even the great magical gates to the Imperial Palace were destroyed. So did the Empire of Hadran fall to a whim of love.