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Anakron watched Panakeia disappear into the crowd leaving for White-all.
Blast this ridiculous konveyance, he thought.
It's not about you. Now, that was a pleasant thought. Just one problem: it came from a Panakeia he didn't like much at all. But of course that was because of the confounded Ism.
Anakron wished he had more control over these konveyances, so he could undo any he didn't like. But that was not the case, and as far as he knew, Panakeia might be stuck in her current mode for the rest of her life. He shook his head and his eyes watered irritatingly. He rubbed at them, looking this way and that to make sure his masculine dignity had not been compromised by onlookers seeing what they ought not. Relieved, he gave thought as to what he would do next.
He knew that he was indeed evil, but that it was a mixed situation, since he could have such warm feelings for Panakeia that acted like unconditional love. Be that as it might, may, or would have been, it couldn't get her back. So much for that; the issue here, he said, directing his mental attention to the problem at hand, was that apparently his evil was not, in fact, a direct, or indirect, result of being the Grand Anakronist. Apparenlty, the Anakronist Dweomer had little to do with it at all! It was just the way he was!
Well, then, he thought, I can just quit being the Anakronist.
Someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned. It was Palando.
"Oh. You."
Palando nodded.
"Where's your other half?"
"Elsewhere occupied."
"What do you want?"
"I see that you have begun to understand that things are not what you thought they were."
"Such as?"
"We have not made you evil."
"That doesn't mean you're not evil, or that the Anakronism Dweomer isn't." Pallando merely smiled. Anakron continued. "So that means that you chose me because I'm evil. Pallando smiled wider. A string of epithets flew through Anakron's noggin. He planted the Staff on the ground between them, then let it drop so that it leaned on Pallando. Anakron turned to walk away.
"You cannot do that."
"Watch me!"
"If you try, we will kill you."
Anakron stopped. He turned. He faced Pallando and thought a moment.
"Better evil renounced and dead than enslaved and alive." Anakron turned away again, and began walking north with the hopes of leaving Lūndūn, Nurnia, and eventually Mordor.
"Fool," Pallando said, held out his own staff, pointed it at Anakron, and spoke a word in a language none knew anymore. Next moment, Anakron fell to the ground. His breath left him. His heart wasn't beating. The world went dark. He knew no more.
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