Free Mazirian the Magician by Jack Vance

sounds to me are harsh, all living creatures vile, in varying degrees — things of sluggish movement and inward filth. During the first of my life I thought only to trample, crush, destroy. I knew nothing but hate. Then I met my sister T’sain, who is as I without the flaw. She told me of love and beauty and happiness — and I came to Earth seeking these.”
    The grave blue eyes studied her.
    â€œHave you found them?”
    â€œSo far,” said T’sais in a faraway voice, “I have found only such evil as I never even encountered in my nightmares.” Slowly she told him her adventures.
    â€œPoor creature,” he said and fell to studying her once again.
    â€œI think I shall kill myself,” said T’sais, in the same distant voice, “for what I want is infinitely lost.” And the man, watching, saw how the red afternoon sun coppered her skin, noted the loose black hair, the long thoughtful eyes. He shuddered at the thought of this creature being lost into the dust of Earth’s forgotten trillions.
    â€œNo!” he said sharply. T’sais stared at him in surprise. Surely one’s life was one’s own, to do with as one pleased.
    â€œHave you found nothing on Earth,” he asked, “that you would regret leaving?”
    T’sais knit her brows. “I can think of nothing — unless it be the peace of this cottage.”
    The man laughed. “Then this shall be your home, for as long as you wish, and I will try to show you that the world is sometimes good — though in truth —” his voice changed “— I have not found it so.”
    â€œTell me,” said T’sais, “what is your name? Why do you wear the hood?”
    â€œMy name? Etarr,” he said in a voice subtly harsh. “Etarr is enough of it. I wear the mask because of the most wicked woman of Ascolais — Ascolais, Almery, Kauchique — the entire world. She made my face such that I cannot abide my own sight.”
    He relaxed, and gave a weary laugh. “No need for anger any more.”
    â€œIs she alive still?”
    â€œYes, she lives, and no doubt still works evil on all she meets.” He sat looking into the fire. “One time I knew nothing of this. She was young, beautiful, laden with a thousand fragrances and charming playfulnesses. I lived beside the ocean — in a white villa among poplar trees. Across Tenebrosa Bay the Cape of Sad Remembrance reached into the ocean, and when sunset made the sky red and the mountains black, the cape seemed to sleep on the water like one of the ancient earth-gods … All my life I spent here, and was as content as one may be while dying Earth spins out its last few courses.
    â€œOne morning I looked up from my star-charts and saw Javanne walking through the portal. She was as young and slender as yourself. Her hair was a wonderful red, and strands fell before her shoulders. She was very beautiful, and — in her white gown — pure and innocent.
    â€œI loved her, and she said she loved me. And she gave me a band of black metal to wear. In my blindness I clasped it to my wrist, never recognizing it for the evil rune it was. And weeks of great delight passed. But presently I found that Javanne was one of dark urges that the love of man could never quell. And one midnight I found her in the embrace of a black naked demon, and the sight twisted my mind.
    â€œI stood back aghast. I was not seen, and I went slowly away. In the morning she came running across the terrace smiling and happy, like a child. ‘Leave me,’ I told her. ‘You are vile beyond calculation.’ She uttered a word and the rune on my arm enslaved me. My mind was my own, but my body was hers, forced to obey her words.
    â€œAnd she made me tell what I had seen, and she revelled and jeered. And she put me through foul degradations, and called up things from Kalu, from Fauvune, from Jeldred, to mock and