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apple。 He talks to all of us。 But only some understand him。 The wizards and the sorcerers。 The singers； the makers。 And the heroes； the ones who seek to be themselves。 To be one's self is a rare thing and a great one。 To be one's self forever： is that not better still？〃
Arren looked straight at Sparrowhawk。 〃You would say to me that it is not better。 But tell me why。 I was a child when I began this voyage； a child who did not believe in death。 You think me a child still； but I have learnt something； not much； maybe； but something； I have learnt that death exists and that I am to die。 But I have not learnt to rejoice in the knowledge； to wele my death or yours。 If I love life； shall I not hate the end of it？ Why should I not desire immortality？〃
Arren's fencing…master in Berila had been a man of about sixty； short and bald and cold。 Arren had disliked him for years； though he knew him to be an extraordinary swordsman。 But one day in practice he had caught his master off guard and nearly disarmed him； and he had never forgotten the incredulous； incongruous happiness that had suddenly gleamed in the master's cold face； the hope； the joy …an equal； at last an equal！ From that moment on； the fencing…master had trained him mercilessly； and whenever they fenced； that same relentless smile would be on the old man's face； brightening as Arren pressed him harder。 And it was on Sparrowhawk's face now； the flash of steel in sunlight。
〃Why should you not desire immortality？ How should you not？ Every soul desires it； and its health is in the strength of its desire。 …But be careful； you are one who might achieve your desire。〃
〃And then？〃
〃And then this： a false king ruling； the arts of man forgotten； the singer tongueless； the eye blind。 This！ … this blight and plague on the lands； this sore we seek to heal。 There are two； Arren； two that make one： the world and the shadow； the light and the dark。 The two poles of the Balance。 Life rises out of death； death rises out of life； in being opposite they yearn to each other； they give birth to each other and are forever reborn。 And with them all is reborn； the flower of the apple tree； the light of the stars。 In life is death。 In death is rebirth。 What then is life without death？ Life unchanging； everlasting； eternal？ …What is it but death… death without rebirth？〃
〃If so much hinges on it； then； my lord； if one man's life might wreck the Balance of the Whole； surely it is not possible …it would not be allowed…〃 He halted； confused。
〃Who allows？ Who forbids？〃
〃I do not know。〃
〃Nor I。 But I know how much evil one man； one life； can do。 I know it all too well。 I know it because I have done it。 I have done the same evil； in the same folly of pride。 I opened the door between the worlds just a crack； just a little crack； just to show that I was stronger than death itself。。。 I was young and had not met death…like you。。。 It took the strength of the Archmage Nemmerle； it took his mastery and his life； to shut that door。 You can see the mark that night left on me； on my face； but him it killed。 Oh； the door between the light and the darkness can be opened； Arren； it takes strength； but it can be done。 But to shut it again； there's a different story。〃
〃But my lord； what you speak of surely is different from this…〃
〃Why？ Because I am a good man？〃 That coldness of steel； of the falcon's eye； was in Sparrowhawk's look again。 〃What is a good man； Arren？ Is a good man one who would not do evil； who would not open a door to the darkness； who has no darkness in him？ Look again； lad。 Look a little farther； you will need what you learn； to go where you must go。 Look into yourself！ Did you not hear a voice say e？ Did you not follow？〃
〃I did。 I… I have not forgotten。 But I thought。。。 I thought that voice was。。。 his。〃
〃Aye； it was his。 And it was yours。 How could he speak to you； across the seas； but in your own voice？ How is it that he calls to those who know how to listen； the mages and the makers and the seekers； who heed the voice within them？ How is it that he does not call to me？ It is because I will not listen； I will not hear that voice again。 You were born to power； Arren； as I was； power over men； over men's souls； and what is that but power over life and death？ You are young； you stand on the borders of possibility； on the shadowland； in the realm of dream； and you hear the voice saying e。 But I； who am old； who have done what I must do； who stand in the daylight facing my own death； the end of all possibility； I know that there is only one power that is real and worth the having。 And that is the power； not to take； but to accept。〃
Jessage was far behind them now； a blue smudge on the sea； a stain。
〃Then I am his servant；〃 Arren said。
〃You are。 And I am yours。〃
〃But who is he； then？ What is he？〃
〃A man； I think … even as you and I。〃
〃That man you spoke of once … the wizard of Havnor； who summoned up the dead？ Is it he？〃
〃It may well be。 He had great power； and it was all bent on denying death。 And he knew the Great Spells of the Lore of Paln。 I was young and a fool when I used that lore； and I brought ruin on myself。 But if an old man and a strong one used it； careless of all consequence； he might bring ruin on us all。〃
〃Were you not told that that man was dead？〃
〃Aye；〃 said Sparrowhawk 〃I was。〃
And they said no more。
That night the sea was full of fire。 The sharp waves thrown back by Lookfar's prow and the movement of every fish through the surface water were all outlined and alive with light。 Arren sat with his arm on the gunwale and his head on his arm； watching those curves and whorls of silver radiance。 He put his hand in the water and raised it again； and light ran softly from his fingers。 〃Look；〃 he said； 〃I too am a wizard。〃
〃That gift you have not；〃 said his panion。
〃Much good I shall be to you without it；〃 said Arren； gazing at the restless shimmer of the waves； 〃when we meet our enemy。〃
For he had hoped …from the very beginning he had hoped… that the reason the Archmage had chosen him and him alone for this voyage was that he had some inborn power； descended from his ancestor Morred； which would in the ultimate need and the blackest hour be revealed： and so he would save himself and his lord and all the world from the enemy。 But lately he had looked once more at that hope； and it was as if he saw it from a great distance； it was like remembering that； when he was a very little boy； he had had a burning desire to try on his father's crown； and had wept when he was forbidden to。 This hope was as ill…timed； as childish。 There was no magery in him。 There never would be。
The time might e； indeed； when he could； when he must； put on his father's crown and rule as Prince of Enlad。 But that seemed a small thing now； and his home a small place； and remote。 There was no disloyalty in this。 Only his loyalty had grown greater； being fixed upon a greater model and a broader hope。 He had learned his own weakness also； and by it had learned to measure his strength； and he knew that he was strong。 But what use was strength if he had no gift； nothing to offer； still； to his lord but his service and his stead