The Call of the Sylvana (The Sylvan Chronicles Book 2)

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The Call of the Sylvana (The Sylvan Chronicles Book 2) Page 2

by Peter Wacht


  “It is true, what I said about the High King most likely wanting you dead so he could take the Highlands for himself. There’s more to it, though. I’ve been speaking with several members of the Sylvana. They, too, think the High King is tied to the Shadow Lord, which means the Shadow Lord wants you dead as well.”

  Thomas sat on his root without moving, his face betraying no emotion. Maybe it was because he had suspected it all along. Yet, there had to be more to it. Even if the Shadow Lord was allied to the High King, that really didn’t explain why the Shadow Lord wanted him dead. He couldn’t be that important to the Shadow Lord’s plans, whatever they may be.

  “Why would the Shadow Lord want me dead?” he asked, still confused. “I can understand that if he’s connected to the High King, he would want me out of the way because of my claim on the Highlands. But do you really think he’d waste his time with me, just because I’m a Kestrel? Why not leave that task to the High King? I’m sure he’s got plenty of resources, even if they’re not as effective as a Nightstalker.”

  “You’re right, Thomas,” said Rya, clutching her skirts tightly. She had dreaded this conversation for years, and now that it had finally arrived, she was having a hard time controlling her emotions. “It does seem strange that the Shadow Lord would focus on you.” She breathed deeply before continuing, looking at her grandson with sad eyes. His resemblance to their daughter Marya, not only in appearance, but also in attitude, shocked her. “There could be another reason as to why the Shadow Lord would want you dead. One that more directly affects his designs.”

  How could he affect the plans of the Shadow Lord?

  “Are you familiar with any of the prophecies?” asked Rynlin, taking over for his wife. This obviously was not an easy discussion for her.

  “Some,” said Thomas.

  “You know what they are?”

  “Yes,” he replied with more confidence. “The Seers of Alfeos wrote the prophecies thousands of years ago. They were an ancient order of scholars and mystics who purportedly could predict the future. There are several different prophecies, as the Seers couldn’t always agree on specifics, but they’re all fairly similar. The problem is, most of the time you don’t know what they’re referring to until after the fact.”

  “Correct,” said Rynlin. Thomas really did pay attention to his lessons, which was heartening. It made a discussion like this easier. “They always are correct, even if you can’t divine it until after the fact. The Sylvana traditionally have studied the prophecies because their primary theme has always revolved around the battle between good and evil. For example, the prophecies predicted the rise of the Shadow Lord. So in the past we’ve attempted to use the prophecies as a way to determine what the Shadow Lord will do next, where he will direct his next attack.”

  “Has it worked?” asked Thomas.

  “To a certain extent,” said Rynlin, leaning back against the trunk of the tree and taking Rya’s hand in his own. She had gained control of her emotions at the expense of her skirt. The wrinkles now looked months old. “Trying to figure out what the prophecies mean is always a difficult task since they’re so obscure. I have deciphered one thing, though.”

  “What’s that?” asked Thomas, leaning on the edge of the root that functioned as his seat. His stomach growled, but he ignored it. Lunch would have to wait.

  “I believe the prophecies speak about you.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Revelation

  Thomas stared at Rynlin, too stunned to do anything else. The prophecies spoke about him? His grandfather pushed forward with his explanation, not giving Thomas time to think about it.

  “As I said before, the prophecies are very obscure. In order to understand them, you have to know what you’re looking for.” Rynlin began reciting what sounded like poetry to Thomas.

  When a child of life and death

  Stands on high

  Drawn by faith

  He shall hold the key to victory in his hand.

  Swords of fire echo in the burned rock

  Balancing the future on their blades.

  Light dances with dark

  Green fire burns in the night

  Hopes and dreams follow the wind

  To fall in black or white.

  Thomas listened in disbelief. “Those are the passages that you think apply to me?”

  “Yes, I do. As do several members of the Sylvana. Let me explain a little more. Begin with the first line: When a child of life and death. When you were born, you had green eyes, which throughout the Kingdoms is recognized as a symbol for life. And any birth obviously symbolizes life. On a sadder note, your mother, Marya, died during your birth.”

  “That could apply to many people,” Thomas protested.

  “Yes, it could,” said Rynlin. “But I don’t think it does. Look at the next line: Stands on high. It’s a very vague reference. However, it could be speaking about two critical parts of your life. When you become Lord of the Highlands, it has traditionally been known as standing on high. And, when you join the Sylvana, you will be standing on high as well. In fact, you will be standing on the tallest peak in all the Kingdoms. I think the double reference to the Highlands and the Sylvana serves as added confirmation.”

  “You think I will join the Sylvana?” Thomas’ excitement momentarily conquered his rising concern.

  “Yes, but we’ll get to that in a moment.”

  “What about the rest of the prophecy? What else applies to me?”

  “All of it I think. We just won’t know for sure until each event takes place. But I believe the last six lines refer to your battle with the Shadow Lord.”

  “Wait a second,” said Thomas, rising from his seat. “You think that because two lines of the prophecy might apply to me, I’m going to fight the Shadow Lord?”

  “Yes,” said Rynlin.

  “That’s absolutely ridiculous. How can you come to a conclusion like that?”

  Rynlin held his hands up. “Hold on, Thomas. Let me start over.”

  Thomas stopped pacing, not realizing he had begun. But he didn’t want to sit down. Things were moving too fast. Yes, he knew that he was the Lord of the Highlands, at least in name, and as such, he had certain responsibilities. But this as well? He was supposed to fight the Shadow Lord? It was all just a little too much for him. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, and he realized he had stopped breathing. Taking a slow breath, he told himself to calm down.

  “Allow me to explain,” said Rynlin. He got up from his seat on the root and began pacing in between Thomas and Rya. He always thought better on his feet.

  “Let me repeat the lines of the prophecy that I think apply to you, and I’ll give you my reasoning. Admittedly, the prophecies are all very obscure, and we really won’t know if you are in fact the Defender of the Light until some later point in time. But, if you are fated to meet the Shadow Lord in combat, then it will happen. There will be no way you can avoid it. That’s why I’m telling you this now. I want you to be prepared for that possibility. But I think it’s more than just a possibility.

  “Also, keep in mind that the prophecies have never been wrong, and though there are several different ones that vary in certain places, they are never very far off when it comes to the important events. For example, all the prophecies correctly predicted the appearance of the Shadow Lord would appear in the world, and that we would defeat him at certain points in time. Now, this is the interesting point.” Rynlin was almost jogging up and down between Rya and Thomas. If he kept going at this pace, he’d be three feet below ground before he finished his explanation.

  “Before, the result of what would happen was always predetermined, meaning that the Great War was fated to occur, and it was expected that we would successfully push the Shadow Lord and his Dark Horde back into the Charnel Mountains. Of course, we didn’t know this until the Great War ended and we went back to look at the prophecies. Then we were able to decipher what had largely been unintelligible to us before.
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  “At that time we looked ahead and saw that a battle between the Defender of the Light and the Lord of the Shadow would take place sometime in the near future. Of course, when you’re dealing with the prophecies the near future could be a hundred years, two hundred years or more. Anyway, the interesting thing—”

  “Frightening thing,” said Rya.

  “Yes, that’s probably the better word. The frightening thing is that that’s where the prophecies end. That’s as far as the Seers of Alfeos went in their forecasts — to the actual battle between the Defender of the Light and the Lord of the Shadow.”

  “What do you mean? They stopped seeing the future?” asked Thomas. He had understood everything up to this point, but he still wasn’t sure how he fit in to it.

  “I mean that the prophecies end during the battle. The seers foretold nothing more beyond that point. They just stopped, and no one can explain why. Listen to the last six lines:

  Swords of fire echo in the burned rock

  Balancing the future on their blades.

  Light dances with dark

  Green fire burns in the night

  Hopes and dreams follow the wind

  To fall in black or white.

  “Swords of fire echo in the burned rock. That’s a clear reference to the last battle, a point that is no longer debated by those who have studied the prophecies, some for hundreds of years longer than I. The battle will take place, and most likely somewhere in Shadow’s Reach, or rather Blackstone, as it’s known today.”

  “So the Defender of the Light has to fight the Lord of the Shadow on his ground.”

  “Exactly, Thomas. Certainly not an auspicious beginning for the contest. Another reference, Balancing the future on their blades, gives us a hint to what comes next. The prophecies end with those six lines. Why? Because this battle will determine what will happen next. That’s what the last line confirms: To fall in black or white. In the past, throughout the millennia since the Shadow Lord came to be, the victor of the battles between good and evil was always foretold. We have always been able to hold back the Dark Horde. But not this time. The result will not be known until the battle is fought. There is nothing telling us what to expect.”

  “So this battle will determine the future?”

  “Yes, it will.”

  “And if the Defender of the Light loses?” Thomas had a feeling that he already knew the answer.

  “Then the Kingdoms have no future at all. The Shadow Lord and his Dark Horde will reign supreme, and humanity will face the possibility of extinction.”

  It was almost too much for Thomas to take in at one time. His grandfather’s argument was logical. Logical enough for Thomas to believe it. A part of him wanted to deny it, hoping desperately that Rynlin was wrong. The attack by the Nightstalker suggested otherwise, however, and he knew that his wish was simply that — a wish.

  “And you think I’m the Defender of the Light? Just because a few lines seem to apply to me?”

  “Yes, we do.” Rya nodded her agreement. “You are a child of life and death. You are expected to stand on high, at least once, when you return to the Highlands. And it also seems that you may become a member of the Sylvana. If you succeed, at the time you join the Sylvana, you will be standing in the Circle on a rocky promontory that sits atop the highest peak in the Highlands. The highest peak, in fact, in all the Kingdoms, even taller than those in the Charnel Mountains. When you are raised to Sylvan Warrior, much like when you become Lord of the Highlands, it is called standing on high. Another line seems to apply to you as well — Green fire burns in the night. You know, as well as me, what your eyes look like when you’re angry, and especially during the night.”

  “I think green fire is a very appropriate description,” said Rynlin.

  “That may be,” said Thomas. “But your argument is still quite flimsy.” Why? Why did they have to do this to him? Didn’t he have enough to worry about as it was?

  “I know,” said Rynlin, “but I still think I’m right.”

  Thomas looked at his grandfather. Rynlin watched him with a quiet intensity. He had never known his grandfather to be wrong, and he didn’t think he would come to these conclusions without a great deal of thought. Thomas still wasn’t sure if he believed it all himself. Nevertheless, as his grandfather said, it was better to be prepared for the future, rather than surprised by it.

  “When will I know if I’m the Defender of the Light?”

  “You will know when you know.”

  “That doesn’t help me very much,” said Thomas, irritated by the response. “You sound like a Seer of Alfeos.”

  Rynlin had responded to some of his questions during his lessons in much the same way, and it had never failed to get under his skin. He didn’t like asking a question and then not getting an answer. He wanted to know. It’s what he didn’t know that bothered him, because just like in a battle, that’s often what got you killed.

  “Rynlin probably didn’t give you the best response he could have,” said Rya, rising from her seat and patting her grandson on the shoulder. “We don’t know if you are the Defender of the Light, but all the evidence points in that direction. The Shadow Lord is stirring. When will the battle take place? We don’t know. It could be a year. It could be five years. It could be more. We do think, though, that when the time for that battle arrives, you will be the one in Blackstone, fighting for the future of the Kingdoms.”

  “No pressure at all, really,” joked Thomas. It was the only way he could respond without laughing hysterically. His mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions as he struggled to grasp what he had just learned.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A Calling

  Rynlin laughed and came to stand by his grandson too, slapping him on the back. “None at all.”

  “So we won’t know if I will be the one until some time in the future.”

  “That’s correct,” said Rynlin.

  “Well, there’s no point in worrying about it now,” said Thomas, sighing. Nothing ever was easy in life, and his only seemed to be getting harder with each passing day. “I’ve got enough to worry about as it is.” If he tried to take in everything his grandfather had told him all at once, he’d probably lose his mind.

  “Your obligation to your father’s family?” asked Rynlin.

  Thomas nodded. “To my other grandfather,” he said. “Not to my father’s family. My father’s family wanted nothing to do with me. I promised Talyn during the fall of the Crag that I would return to the Highlands and retake what belonged to him; belongs to me now, I guess. It’s kind of funny. I’m doing it because of my grandfather, and because of who I am, yet no one except my grandfather cared about me when I was growing up there. I’ve got to do this for people who thought something was wrong with me, like I was tainted, and now I’m supposed to help them.”

  Rya listened to her grandson. She was proud of him, prouder than he would ever know, and not because of his ability with the Talent or some other skill. She was proud of him because of the person he had become.

  “A strange world we live in,” said Rynlin. “This is what’s bothering you, having to do that?”

  “Only in part,” said Thomas. His life had just become immeasurably harder thanks to his grandparents. He was tired of carrying everything by himself. If his grandparents could burden him with these additional responsibilities, he felt the need to be rid of some others. There was no better time than now.

  “Sometimes I dream about my mother.” Thomas walked a short distance away from Rynlin and Rya, gathering his thoughts. He didn’t want to hurt them by talking about his mother, their daughter, but he had to. It was the only way to explain.

  “I know she died when I was born, but I can see her clearly in my dreams — the sharp green eyes, the dark brown hair. I know it’s her.” As Thomas described Marya, an ache formed in Rynlin’s throat. It happened every time he thought of his daughter.

  “Dreams are very powerful,” said Rya. “More powerfu
l than most people know. The world of the living and the world of the dead are clearly segregated when we are awake. When we sleep, and we dream, the borders of the two sometimes mesh, and spirits can walk in your dreams.”

  “What was Marya saying to you, Thomas?” Rynlin was intensely curious. He wanted to know if it had anything to do with what they were discussing. He was certain of what he just said, that Thomas was the Defender of the Light, or at least would be. Some added confirmation never hurt.

  “She keeps calling to me, saying that I must do something. She’s always standing a long way off, beckoning to me with her hand, as if I’m supposed to follow her. Whenever I see her, I feel as if I’m missing something inside.” He pointed to his chest with his hand to emphasize his point. “At first I thought it was the fact that I don’t have a mother. That would be the simplest explanation. Now I’m not so sure. It’s more like I’m not complete as a person, and the hole that’s there remains when I wake. The only time I feel it filling up is when I use the Talent and draw on the power of nature. That’s when I feel complete. But as soon as I let go of it, I feel empty again.”

  “Do you follow her?” asked Rynlin.

  “I try to, but I can only take a few steps. She disappears and then I’m standing in this huge valley of long green grass with mountains all around.”

  Rynlin looked at Rya and saw confirmation in her eyes. He knew what this was about, and it did apply to the prophecies very much in the way Rynlin had expected.

  “When you’re in the valley, do you see anything else?”

  “Yes, a unicorn. A black unicorn, in fact.”

  “What is the unicorn doing?” he asked.

  “Calling to me, as if he’s waiting for me.”

 

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