Long ago, a storm struck the cold, windswept island of Riva. Lightning crackled over the towers of the Citadel, as if to impale anyone so foolhardy as to venture into its teeth. But Kamion, first of what would be a long line of Warders of that bleak isle, was indifferent, even blind, to the weather. It had been a long day, and he was in a pensive mood. Polgara had left that morning. For many years, he, Polgara, and the young Prince Regent, Daran, had handled the affairs of the Isle of the Winds. Riva was not a difficult country to rule. Its people were industrious, and as a result the economy was, if not thriving, then at least not in constant need of attention; and, though the awareness of their duty to guard the Orb of Aldur lay at the back of every Rivan's mind, the equally strong awareness that a large part of the Cherek fleet tirelessly patrolled the Great Western Sea around them prevented this from being a worry that dominated their lives. Kamion's mind was not preoccupied with matters of state. Polgara had left that morning.
He loved Polgara. She had enchanted him all those years ago when he had first seen her, surrounded by a crowd of adoring suitors. Since then they had become friends, and he missed her as much or more for her calmness and wisdom as he did for her radiant beauty. In a peculiar way, he felt incomplete without her. That part of his life was over, though. He was married now - for he had a responsibility to his barony - and she was wedded to her sorcery and her life of study. He knew she was lost to him, but he could never forget her.
Thus musing, Kamion rose from his chair and walked over to the window to look out on the storm. Clouds massed above the city in powerful majesty, and the sounds of fiery bolts crackling between sky and earth seemed like they might have rivalled those of the cracking of the world itself. He was not a particularly religious man, but it appeared then as if the anger of Belar were raining down upon the city. He shook that thought out of his mind. Everyone knew the Gods had departed, and no longer took a direct hand in human affairs. Berating himself for his superstition, he turned away from the window.
At that moment, the bolt of lightning struck him.
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He woke to find himself in near-darkness. Struggling to rise, he strained his eyes for some clue as to his location. In fact, as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he realized that he lay in a dimly lit cavern. A disharmonious, mournful chorus of deep bass voices resounded through the room in a hymn to some deity Kamion did not know. Only when he pushed himself to his feet did he notice the old man, dressed in a snowy white robe, standing by what appeared to be an exit.
"Who are you? Where is this place?" asked Kamion. Despite everything, he did not fear the old man. There was an aura of saintliness about him that Kamion had never felt in even the most sincerely devout priest of Belar.
"This is Prolgu, my friend," said the old man quietly, as if reluctant to disturb the strange, unearthly hymn which still echoed through the cavern, "home of the Ulgos. I am the Gorim. Come with me."
Kamion followed obediently. He knew little of the Ulgo race, but, from what he had been told, they were peaceful and withdrawn. In the presence of this holy old man, he could not believe that any harm could come to him. After he had followed the Gorim through a maze of twisting passageways for a few minutes, they came to another cavern with a lake at its centre. From the middle of the lake rose an island, on which stood a building in the shape of a truncated pyramid. The Gorim crossed a white marble causeway to the island, beckoning Kamion to follow him, which, after a moment, he did.
"Enter in peace, good Kamion," the Gorim said. "There is no need to be afraid."
As Kamion entered the building, he felt a presence. Something more than human was in that room. Then, as he approached the stone table in the centre of the room, a figure began to form in the rock wall opposite. It glowed pure white, and radiated that same presence Kamion had felt just a moment before. The figure became solid, and stepped out into the room as if the wall were formed of no more than insubstantial mist. In form it was much like the Gorim, white-robed, bearded, and with a face that spoke of pure goodness; but, as it stood there, Kamion became aware that he stood in the presence of a God. Awed, he fell to his knees before the glowing being.
"Rise, Kamion," said the figure gently, and the caverns all around rang like a great bell at the sound of that voice. "Do not be afraid. I am UL, the God of the Ulgos. Thy race knoweth me not, but I mean no harm unto thee."
Emboldened by the God's gentle manner, Kamion rose as UL had bidden and asked, "How have I come to be here, Most Holy UL?"
"The bolt of lightning which did strike thee was an accident, Warder of Riva. Hadst thou died so soon after her sister, Polgara would have been distraught unto madness, and the fabric of the Purpose itself would have been threatened. Thou art not destined to die yet. I had to save thee and bring thee here, to protect what must be."
"May I return to Riva soon, Most Holy?" Kamion enquired. "Prolgu's very nice to visit, but I wouldn't want to live here."
The God laughed. "Thou art daring, good Kamion," he said, "but I am pleased with thee. Thou shalt be returned to thy home as if nothing had ever happened, for only thus can the Purpose be protected. However, I have another task for thee first."
"Name it, O my Lord, and I will perform it."
"Bravely spoken," approved UL. "Thy task doth concern a land called Earth, of which thou hast no knowledge. There I have inspired a storyteller to set down in writing the history of this land, from the birth of Belgarath the Sorcerer four thousand years ago. Through this task of his hath he amassed no little renown, and he doth now command a great following of disciples. Thy task shall be to go among these disciples and aid them in their understanding of my message. Learning from the lessons of this world may be crucial in the development of theirs."
Kamion bowed. "Show me but the way to this strange land, Most Holy, and I will gladly carry out Thy command so far as I am able."
"Know that I am most pleased with thee, good Warder," smiled UL. "The portal doth stand before thee, and thou shalt have all the knowledge thou dost need. Fare thee well in this, my son. We will meet again."
And then he vanished.