“You did not see what I saw when Merritt pushed that sword through your heart. He did that not because he wanted to make you a Confessor, but because you wanted it. It was the choice you made. It was killing him inside, but he did it anyway.
“It was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life, and though it was killing him, though it was breaking his own heart, he did it because you wanted it. He wanted to give you what you wanted, no matter how much it hurt him.”
Magda swallowed back her sobs. She tried to bring her voice forth, but she couldn’t form words.
“Don’t let what we had limit the even greater experience you can have with Merritt. Don’t let a misguided loyalty to me limit your heart and what you can have in greater abundance for yourself.
“To love another, you must first love yourself. Love yourself, Magda, so that you can love him. Love yourself enough to let your memories of me ease away from closing your heart.
“Love yourself enough to know that you deserve happiness.
“Know that I have nothing but love for Merritt, as I have for you. You have walked the path that has taken you to the possibility of something wonderful. Don’t lose sight of that path because you are looking back at a memory of me.
“I am no more. Let me go, Magda. I am at peace now, let me go deeper beyond the veil.”
Tears ran down Magda’s face as she sobbed.
“Thank you, Baraccus. You’ve given me so much. Thank you for my life. I won’t waste it, I swear.”
“I know you won’t, Magda. I know you won’t.”
Chapter 103
Magda stood in the center of the dais, before the half circle of the council’s desk, before the council, in her white Confessor’s dress. There were only three councilmen there, Sadler, Clay, and Hambrook, but they would soon add to those numbers so that they could do their work.
The center chair sat empty.
That center chair was hers, now.
She presided over the council, now.
She balanced the council, now, with a Confessor’s voice.
Behind her, in the great council chambers, there were a limited number of people. It was not a council session opened to the general public. It was invited guests only.
General Grundwall was there, much chagrined that he had ever expressed faith in Lothain to her just because he thought that Magda had agreed to marry him. He had apologized countless times. Magda had to finally order him to never apologize to her about that again.
Tilly was there as well, healed, in good health, and in good cheer. She beamed with pride at seeing Magda in her white Confessor’s dress, at seeing Magda having the important place at the Keep that Tilly always thought she should have.
Quinn, likewise all smiles, was there as well, as was Naja. Magda missed Baraccus and Isidore and all those like them who were no longer with them and were now with the good spirits, but she was thankful for the friends they did have with them.
Merritt stood beside her, looking as handsome as she had ever seen him look. The Sword of Truth, in its ornately worked gold and silver scabbard, gleamed against his dark outfit. Since she was to his left, she could see the word Truth standing out in gold letters on the hilt.
Councilman Sadler beamed with pride as he addressed them.
“Magda, Merritt, we at the Keep all owe you a tremendous debt of gratitude.”
Magda’s hand found Merritt’s.
“Now,” he said, “we must call upon you both to help the people not only of the Keep, but of the Midlands, D’Hara, and in fact all of the New World to stand against the threats we face.
“Merritt, we have taken your admonition under consideration and we agree that we should abide by your recommendation, and Magda’s, that a Confessor’s power is better suited to women than men. We agree that the Confessor’s power should rightly only be invested in women.
“We need the ability of a Confessor to help us discover truth as we go forward in this struggle for our survival. We therefore ask that you create a new force in the world, the Confessors, a band of sisters who can stand for truth.”
Merritt bowed his head as he squeezed Magda’s hand. “I can do that.”
“And Magda, we ask that you be their leader, the Mother Confessor, and help make them as effective, as dedicated, as noble in fighting for truth as you have shown yourself to be.”
Magda bowed her head as she squeezed Merritt’s hand. “I can do that.”
“And Merritt,” Councilman Sadler said, “we have come to understand, as you have explained it, the particular vulnerabilities of a Confessor. Especially in the time following the use of her power, when she is weakened and less able to protect herself. Even more critically, because of the nature of the power that she possesses, she is going to be a prime target for a great many dangerous people.
“We therefore ask that you be permanently assigned to be protector to Magda, the Mother Confessor. Once the band of sister Confessors is created, they too will each need a wizard to be their protector and to help them in their duties.
“But for now, there are only you two, the Mother Confessor, and her wizard. That is, if you both agree, of course.” He looked to each of them in turn. “Do you both agree to this?”
Magda smiled as she and Merritt shared a look.
Looking into her eyes, Merritt said, “Wizard Merritt agrees and promises to always protect Magda, the Mother Confessor.”
Looking into Merritt’s eyes, Magda said, “And Magda, the Mother Confessor, will always stand by her wizard, Merritt.”
The people in the room erupted in cheering.
As the people were celebrating the news, Merritt leaned close. “You look positively stunning, Mother Confessor.”
Magda’s cheeks hurt from smiling.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you about your hair,” he said in a private tone.
She smoothed her hair back, then pulled out the white confession flower she had placed there, the flower Baraccus had once given her that she had kept in her silver box of memories. She twirled the little flower in her fingers, thinking about the path she had taken.
“What about my hair?”
“You can’t cut it.”
Magda twitched a frown up at him. “I can if I want.”
“No, actually, you can’t.”
“What are you talking about?”
He leaned a little closer, looking a bit guilty. “The power won’t let a Confessor cut her hair.”
Magda was truly puzzled. “Won’t let me? What in the world are you talking about?”
“The length of a woman’s hair denotes status in the Midlands. You are the Mother Confessor. There is no woman of higher status than the Mother Confessor. Cutting your hair would be lowering your status in the eyes of many, so the magic of a Confessor’s power won’t allow it.”
“Won’t allow it,” she repeated in a flat tone.
“That’s right, won’t allow it.”
“Well, what if it needs to be trimmed?”
“Someone else has to do it.”
Magda’s brow lifted. “Touchy, isn’t it?”
“It can be when it comes to matters of power. It expects you to be respected.”
“The length of my hair can’t earn me respect.”
Merritt shrugged. “I’m just warning you.”
Magda leaned into him, smiling as she tucked her shoulder under his arm. “Thanks for the warning.”
Merritt grinned as he put his arm around her. “Sure.” He pointed. “Is that the confession flower from your box of memories?”
Magda nodded. “I wanted to wear it today. Baraccus sacrificed his life so that this course for our future could come to be. He gave his life that we all might be standing here today and have this chance. I think he would be pleased.”
“I think he would be, too,” Merritt said.
Magda twirled the little white flower between her finger and thumb, watching it spin, thinking about all that had brought her to be the Mother Confessor.
As the flower was spinning in her fingers, it began to become transparent. She could see right through it.
And then, the flower vanished.
It was gone. Simply, gone.
“Did you see that?” Magda asked in astonishment.
“I sure did.”
She looked up at Merritt’s handsome features. “What do you think it could mean?”
“I think it means whatever you want it to mean.”
Magda looked down at her empty fingers a moment.
“Everything,” she finally said. “It means everything.”
END
Manifesto
Let me say up front that I love printed books. Always have, always will. But first and foremost, I'm a storyteller. As a storyteller, I now have a better way to bring you books.
Stories have been with us since the dawn of mankind. Long before people invented writing, they told stories around the fire. Fantasy was born under the stars as parables of man's place in a mysterious universe. Later those stories were set down on clay tablets, and then scrolls and animal skins, and later yet, in the last, thin sliver of story-telling history, printed on paper. Stories in spoken form were only recently able to be recorded so people could listen to them at their convenience. Comic books and graphic novels told stories with words and drawings. When film came along, stories became movies.
The important thread through every form in which stories are told is the story itself.
Every change throughout history has brought improvements and benefits to those who are eager for the stories themselves.
I have long wanted to tell the story of Magda Searus, the First Confessor. Because this is such a special book, I wanted to bring it directly to readers myself, without the filtering middleman of a traditional publisher, the long wait, and the higher price. Now, with ebooks, I am able to bring this story I have long wanted to tell directly to readers and also be much more involved in the entire process than was ever possible before.
Publishers have long had total control over books, over what is printed and what you read. Now, they stand against change by refusing to buy any book from any author unless they also control the ebook edition. They do this to prevent any author from publishing his own ebook. They want to maintain total and absolute control over books in all forms.
For me, bringing this book directly to readers myself was far too important to give up that right. I wanted to be involved in every aspect of the book, in its design, in the way it is promoted, in its presentation, in the messaging about it, and to be there for readers at every step along that path. I wanted them to see it all unfold. I wanted this to be a first, a partnership between author and reader, without the heavy hand of publishers.
By not selling the whole bag of rights to a publisher, I gave up a substantial advance. It also meant that I can’t have a hardcover edition featured on book shelves.
Why then am I willing to forego a big advance, not be able to offer hardcovers, and go to all the effort and expense of doing this myself? Because I believe that strongly in this book. The story is what matters and I wanted it presented better than was ever possible in traditional publishing. I wanted to present it artfully, with my creative control, my vision, my passion. I wanted to breathe life into it the way I knew could be done. I also believe strongly in the future of electronic publishing and all the tremendous advantages it holds for both authors and readers. Though it is a huge risk, I wanted to be the first among bestselling authors to do this because I wanted to show that it can be a remarkable, memorable, exciting experience for readers.
I hope to have your support on this new path to bring great books directly from me to you at a great price. I love printed books so I completely understand why some of you prefer a paper book. But this story is more important than a mere format.
I will have books in printed form in the future, but this one is special.
For this special book, I'm asking you to try something new—after all, I am. Journey with me on this new path for a little while and let me tell you a story you have never before imagined and will never be able to forget.
As many of you know, when Richard was taken to the Old World he was told what to carve, how to carve it, where it would appear, and when. It was all out of his hands. What did he do? He carved his own statue, his own way, and revealed it on his terms, one man taking his work directly to the people. THE FIRST CONFESSOR is my statue, my own creation through and through. The subtitle could very well be “It’s my life. I am rising up and living it.” Welcome to the New World.
I've made the book less expensive and easy to get from anywhere in the world, day or night, without leaving home. I hope you will try this book that is so close to my heart and discover this moving story. Think of all you have to gain.
It's true that this is not a book you stick on a shelf. This is a story you will instead always carry in your heart.
Thank you all for your trust and your support.
Terry Goodkind
Supplemental Content
Coming August 2012 as a free enhancement to this ebook.
Author Terry Goodkind
Goodkind was born and raised in Omaha, Nebraska, where he also attended art school, one of his many interests on the way to becoming a writer. Besides a career in wildlife art, he has been a cabinet maker and violin maker, and he has done restoration work on rare and exotic artifacts from around the world -- each with its own story to tell, he says. He and his wife, Jeri, have created a home in the desert Southwest, where he now spends the majority of his time.
Terry Goodkind, The First Confessor
(Series: Sword of Truth # 0)
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