So those two began their great race across the ocean。 A thousand miles and more it was from the uncharted seas of the raft…folk to the island Selidor； which lies of all the lands of Earthsea the farthest west。 Day after day rose shining from the clear horizon and sank into the red west； and under the gold arch of the sun and the silver wheeling of the stars the boat ran northward； all alone on the sea。
Sometimes the thunderclouds of high summer massed far off； casting purple shadows down on the horizon； then Arren would watch the mage as he stood up and with voice and hand called those clouds to drift toward them and to loosen their rain down on the boat。 The lightning would leap among the clouds； and the thunder would bellow。 Still the mage stood with upraised hand； until the rain came pouring down on him and on Arren and into the vessels they had set out and into the boat and onto the sea； flattening the waves with its violence。 He and Arren would grin with pleasure； for of food they had enough； if none to spare； but water they needed。 And the furious splendor of the storm that obeyed the mage's word delighted them。
Arren wondered at this power which his panion now used so lightly； and once he said； 〃When we began our voyage； you used to work no charms。〃
〃The first lesson on Roke； and the last； Is Do what is needful。 And no more！〃
〃The lessons in between； then； must consist in learning what is needful。〃
〃They do。 One must consider the Balance。 But when the Balance itself is broken…then one considers other things。 Above all； haste。〃
〃But how is it that all the wizards of the South …and elsewhere by now… even the chanters of the rafts… all have lost their art； but you keep yours？〃
〃Because I desire nothing beyond my art；〃 Sparrowhawk said。
And after some time he added； more cheerfully； 〃And if I am soon to lose it； I shall make the best of it while it lasts。〃
There was indeed a kind of light…heartedness in him now； a pure pleasure in his skill； which Arren； seeing him always so careful； had not guessed。 The mind of the magician takes delight in tricks； a mage is a trickster。 Sparrowhawk's disguise in Hort Town； which had so troubled Arren； had been a game to him； a very slight game； too； for one who could transform not just his face and voice at will； but his body and very being； being as he chose a fish； a dolphin； a hawk。 And once he said； 〃Look； Arren： I'll show you Gont；〃 and had him look at the surface of their watercask； which he had opened； and which was full to the brim。 Many simple sorcerers can cause an image to appear on the water…mirror； and so he had done： a great peak； cloud wreathed； rising from a grey sea。 Then the image changed； and Arren saw plainly a cliff on that mountain isle。 It was as if he were a bird； a gull or a falcon； hanging on the wind offshore and looking across the wind at that cliff that towered from the breakers for two thousand feet。 On the high shelf of it was a little house。 〃That is Re Albi；〃 said Sparrowhawk； 〃and there lives my master Ogion； he who stilled the earthquake long ago。 He tends his goats； and gathers herbs； and keeps his silence。 I wonder if he still walks on the mountain； he is very old now。 But I would know； surely I would know； even now； if Ogion died。。。〃 There was no certainty in his voice； for a moment the image wavered； as if the cliff itself were falling。 It cleared； and his voice cleared： 〃He used to go up into the forests alone in late summer and in autumn。 So he came first to me； when I was a brat in a mountain village； and gave me my name。 And my life with it。〃 The image of the water…mirror now showed as if the watcher were a bird among the forest branches； looking out to steep； sunlit meadows beneath the rock and snow of the peak； looking inward along a steep road going down in a green； gold…shot darkness。 〃There is no silence like the silence of those forests；〃 Sparrowhawk said； yearning。
The image faded； and there was nothing but the blinding disk of the noon sun reflected in the water in the cask。
〃There；〃 Sparrowhawk said； looking at Arren with a strange； mocking look； 〃there； if I could ever go back there； not even you could follow me。〃
Land lay ahead； low and blue in the afternoon like a bank of mist。 〃Is it Selidor？〃 Arren asked； and his heart beat fast； but the mage answered； 〃Obb； I think； or Jessage。 We're not half way yet； lad。〃
That night they sailed the straits between those two islands。 They saw no lights； but there was a reek of smoke in the air； so heavy that their lungs grew raw with breathing it。 When day came and they looked back； the eastern isle； Jessage； looked burnt and black as far as they could see inland from the shore； and a haze hung blue and dull above it。
〃They have burnt the fields；〃 Arren said。
〃Aye。 And the villages。 I have smelled that smoke before。〃
〃Are they savages； here in the West？〃
Sparrowhawk shook his head。 〃Farmers； townsmen。〃
Arren stared at the black ruin of the land； the withered trees of orchards against the sky； and his face was hard。 〃What harm have the trees done them？〃 he said。 〃Must they punish the grass for their own faults？ Men are savages； who would set a land afire because they have a quarrel with other men。〃
〃They have no guidance；〃 Sparrowhawk said。 〃No king； and the kingly men and the wizardly men； all turned aside and drawn into their minds； are hunting the door through death。 So it was in the South； and so I guess it to be here。〃
〃And this is one man's doing … the one the dragon spoke of？ It seems not possible。〃
〃Why not？ If there were a King of the Isles； he would be one man。 And he would rule。 One man may as easily destroy； as govern： be King or Anti…King。〃
There was again that note in his voice of mockery or challenge which roused Arren's temper。
〃A king has servants； soldiers； messengers； lieutenants。 He governs through his servants。 Where are the servants of this…Anti…King？〃
〃In our minds； lad。 In our minds。 The traitor； the self； the self that cries I want to live； let the world burn so long as I can live！ The little traitor soul in us； in the dark； like the worm in the 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