The Fallen Prophet (The Dark Prophecy Book 1)

by Cody Loewen

  It is obvious she has always expected that Rayfe would follow in his parents’ footsteps and is not pleased by this turn of events.

  “The key word here is ‘put off,’ mother,” Rayfe replies, grabbing her hand. “You know my dream it be part of the rangers someday. But right now, Lykara and I have unfinish business we need to take care of.”

  “I understand, son.” She squeezes his hand, and once again that jealousy threatens to rise. “Be careful. Remember your training. And most of all, watch out for each other.”

  She glances at me at these last words, and I nod my head in answer.

  “For now, we have to leave,” Ardon announces to us as they move toward the door. “The rangers are being called to listen to the official briefing of the battle at noon. You two won’t be leaving before the end of the day, today will you?”

  “We will be here for at least a couple days,” Rayfe answers as we also stand from the table. “Our preparations will take some time. And I need time to enjoy being home before I leave again.”

  “It is so good to have you home, Rayfe,” Eliana says with a smile, wrapping him in another hug. I smile at the obvious love between the two of them, coming to grips with the fact that Rayfe has something I will never experience. Ardon and Eliana slip on their boots on and take their weapons from the rack by the door. With one more wave, they are gone, leaving Rayfe and I standing near the door alone.

  “Now what?” I ask Rayfe, suddenly impatient to get moving again. After the weeks of what feels like non-stop movement, sitting still is making me stir crazy.

  “Well, you are just all business aren’t you,” Rayfe jokes with a grin. “Let’s just enjoy some freedom for a bit.”

  He sits back down in his chair at the table and kicks his bare feet up, leaning way back in an exaggerated pose, his hands behind his head. The grin never leaves his face as he gives me that cocky stare, looking as if he may fall out of his chair at any minute. I let out a frustrated sigh. Usually, his humor makes me forget about my worries, but my mind is too focused on the task at hand and sitting here is not getting me any closer to my goal. Rayfe must sense my annoyance because he returns to a normal sitting position with an exaggerated sigh.

  “Fine,” he begins, overly dramatic in his typical fashion. “We will do things your way, I guess. First, we need to come up with a plan. We have no chance just charging in blind against this enemy. Kromm was no ordinary troll.”

  I nod, thinking back to the way he cut through his enemies as if they were mere gnats buzzing in his ears. His strength and speed were far greater than any other troll on the battlefield.

  “Why is Kromm so different from the other trolls?” I ask. “He is much bigger and stronger than any of the others.”

  “And since when have trolls ever been able to formulate traps and complex battle tactics?” Rayfe asks, just as much to himself as me. “Everything I have ever heard about the trolls is that they are exceptionally stupid creatures. They should have all charged into that valley together, but they didn’t. Kromm laid a trap and executed his army’s movements to perfection, outmaneuvering us. Either the trolls are learning and getting smarter, or there is something different about him.”

  I nod along as he talks, mulling over the possibilities. Obviously, Kromm is no ordinary troll, but why?

  “How different do you think he is from the other trolls?” I ask Rayfe, knowing that he doesn’t have any more information than I do. “Is he just bigger and smarter than the rest of them? Did he come from somewhere else, where the trolls are different, and now he is leading the normal trolls? Or is he something else entirely?”

  I feel foolish as all the questions leave my mouth. I know that he won’t have any answers, but I need to get all my thoughts out into the open and out of my head before it explodes. Rayfe sits for a minute, running through my questions in his own thoughts.

  “I don’t think we can easily rule out any of those possibilities,” Rayfe answers after a minute. “We just don’t have enough information, or experience with him, to know for sure. We need to learn more about the trolls and what Kromm might be in order to know what we are up against. Before we know what we are going after, it would be a suicide mission to hunt him down.”

  I have to bite my tongue at the retort that forms in my head. I want more than anything to immediately move and find Kromm. But I know Rayfe is right of course, and if I want us to succeed, we can’t charge in blind. I swallow the words that are trying to spill out of my mouth and nod. My mind spinning in a flurry of thoughts and memories, I suddenly remember something that might help us.

  “What about the library?” I ask Rayfe, proud of myself for thinking of it. “You said it holds the largest collection of knowledge possibly anywhere in the world. Would there be any information on the trolls, and possibly even Kromm, in there?”

  He rolls his eyes, and lightly smacks his forehead with the palm of his hand.

  “How did I not think of that? Of course. If there is any information to be found on trolls, that is where it would be. Hopefully, we can find something that will help us.”

  With a clear path in front of us, at least for a little bit, I turn my focus to finding the answers we need. Without another word, I grab my things and move to the door, Rayfe right on my heels. We exit the room, and then the tree, moving back toward the Mother Tree. I try to remain calm, but the thought of the knowledge we might find gets the better of me, so I rush to the massive tree in the center of the city. I circle the tree—all fifty feet of it—but there is no door, just lines of rough bark.

  What the hell?

  As I come full circle around the three, I find Rayfe standing there patiently waiting for me, that stupid grin lighting up his face.

  “Looking for something?”

  Jerk!

  “No. I just like running around impossibly giant trees for no reason.”

  His laugh echoes through the branches around us, and my irritation melts away. It is hard to stay annoyed with Rayfe for long.

  “So smart-ass, if this is really the library, how do we get in? There’s no door.”

  “There is if you know where to look,” Rayfe replies with a wink. “With all of the world’s knowledge stored inside, we can’t just let anybody in, now can we?”

  I allow Rayfe to take the lead as we once again walk around the tree.

  “Here we are,” Rayfe says as he stops halfway around the tree.

  Once again, I look for a door. Nothing. Just tree bark. I open my mouth to make a snarky comment, but then Rayfe walks right up to the tree and places both hands on the trunk. Bowing his head, he murmurs something in a language I can’t understand and then pushes gently. With a faint click, the door opens inward, revealing an entryway into the massive tree.

  Much like the tree where Rayfe’s home is located, the entryway of the Mother Tree serves as a hallway to various closed rooms. On the far side of the hallway stands a spiral staircase that loops its way up higher in the trunk. I wonder how many levels were created inside the tree. Every door is closed, so I can’t take in too many details of the space. We walk down the hallway, obviously headed for the staircase. The library must be above us.

  “The ground floor of the Mother Tree houses the meeting rooms and council chambers,” Rayfe says, as if reading my thoughts. “This is where the council will discuss important decisions and events when necessary. The rangers will be in one of the rooms right now for their briefing.”

  We begin to climb the stairs, and I look up through the center of the spiral, which seems to extend forever above me.

  “The Academy is on the second floor,” Rayfe continues as we reach the second landing. “The armory, where extra weapons and supplies are stored is on level three. Emergency food storage is on four. The library takes up levels five and six, and the floors above the library are where we keep other items that need to be protected.”

  As we reach the fifth landing, Rayfe places a hand on the huge wooden door, once again sp
eaking in the elven tongue. With a light push, it easily swings inward, revealing the library. The sight inside the room takes my breath away. The library occupies the entire cross section of the Mother Tree’s trunk, a room bigger than any I have seen before. Bookshelves are set against the outer walls of the library, filled with so many books I didn’t realize there could even be this much information about the world. Rows of bookshelves and racks for scrolls fill the interior of the room, just enough space between the rows for Rayfe and I to walk shoulder to shoulder, but no more. Off to our left is a small area with several tables and chairs, all currently unoccupied. To the right of the entrance to the room stands a large wooden desk.

  The desk is half-circular in shape and rests against the wall, creating a closed off area inside. I see an elf inside the desk area, seated at a table and reading a scroll in front of him. I can’t make out too many details from across the giant room, but I can tell he is extremely old, his face a mask of wrinkles and age spots, wisps of white hair escaping the leather tie to drift around his face. He is so engrossed in his studies that he doesn’t even look up as we enter. I return my attention to the shelves of never-ending books, and I feel overwhelmed at the shear amount of knowledge present around me.

  How are we ever going to find what we came for? I hope Rayfe knows his way around, like he does with the rest of the city.

  I look over at him, trying to gauge his knowledge of this place on his reaction. He is standing beside me, also looking out at the mass of books in front of us, but I don’t see any worry on his face.

  Of course, he isn’t worried. He never worries about anything.

  “Where do we go from here?” I ask him. Instinctively, I lower my voice, and I don’t know why. Rayfe must notice how overwhelmed I am by the library because he lets out a soft laugh.

  “Don’t worry. We don’t need to look through every book here to find what we need. That’s what Rivka is for.”

  “Rivka?” I ask, confused at the unknown word. “What is that?”

  “Who,” Rayfe replies with another laugh, obviously enjoying my confusion. Frustration wells up inside me, but the calm nature of this room and his laugh, and the grin that follows, put me back at ease.

  “Huh?” I ask, so turned around and confused by this point that I don’t even know what to say.

  “Rivka is a who, not a what,” Rayfe replies, finally providing some helpful information. “He is the guardian of the library and the expert on the information stored here, and its organization and placement within the room. Let’s go set our things down, and then we can talk to him. He will help us with what we need.”

  Rayfe leads us over to the tables and chairs, and we pick one in the middle of the group. We didn’t bring any weapons, knowing we wouldn’t need them in the middle of the city, but we have our waterskins and small bags of food, suspecting that we may be here for a long time. We set these down on the table, off to one side, and Rayfe leads me back toward the other side of the room, to where the ancient elf sits at the circular desk. The desk is immaculate, except for the single scroll that the elf, who I now know as Rivka, is studying. Not a speck of dust sits on the surface of the wood. Rivka wears a flowing green robe, made of a thick fabric, that covers his whole body except for his hands, neck and head. We stand in front of his desk for several minutes as he continues reading the scroll, his eyes slowly moving down the text.

  I look over at Rayfe, impatient to get on with our search, and he gives me a gesture with his hands to be patient. Finally, Rivka looks up from the paper he is studying, and his eyes land on me. He studies me for a minute, his face expressionless, before moving to Rayfe, and I can see the recognition in his eyes.

  “You’re home!” Rivka exclaims, his voice soft and slightly shaky from age. “Back to do some more reading I see!”

  He extends his hand over the desk, and Rayfe grasps it, smiling warmly at the elderly elven man, obviously very familiar with him.

  “I spent a lot of time here before I joined the army,” Rayfe explained. “I loved studying about the rangers and their history. And Rivka never forgets anyone that comes into his library.”

  “Oh, Rivka, this is Lykara, my partner from the army,” Rayfe begins again, looking back at the guardian. Rivka eyes crinkle when he smiles, and he takes my hand in greeting as well.

  “So, what brings the two of you back to my home?” Rivka asks, his eyes moving between me and Rayfe. “You have read everything I have on rangers; I am sure of it.”

  Rayfe chuckles at the remark, shaking his head. “Not rangers this time. Trolls. Lykara and I are on our own mission and need to learn everything we can about trolls.”

  Rivka nods excitedly, rising from his seat behind the desk. He moves with the grace that belies his age over to the edge near the wall, and slides a section of the wood over, to let himself out of the half circle. We follow him across the room to the middle of the racks of books, and he shows us the section of books and scrolls dedicated to any knowledge of trolls that is present in the room. Rayfe thanks Rivka for the help, and he retreats to his desk to continue his reading. Rayfe and I each grab a handful of the books and move back to our table to get to work. We begin pouring through the information, learning all we can about the trolls.

  I start with the writing I can understand and let Rayfe handle those in elvish.

  We read for hours, most of the information we find either useless, or things we already know about the creatures. I find myself struggling to keep my eyes open, boredom having completely set in from reading the same unhelpful information over and over again. I begin to doubt that there is even anything useful in the collection of information here, when Rayfe speaks up, his voice breaking the silence that had fallen over us for a long time. The excitement in his voice immediately draws me back to the present, all boredom gone.

  “And the trolls were led by one who was unlike the rest,” Rayfe begins reading out loud to me. “He was strong. Much stronger than the other trolls. But what was even more terrifying still, was his cunning.”

  “Another troll like Kromm?” I ask Rayfe, excitedly. “Is there more in there?”

  “Most of the rest of the writing just details the battle and what happened,” Rayfe answers, obviously having already read the entire section from which he took that small passage. “There is a little more on him, but it is mostly physical description, which isn’t helpful, but he does seem to have been similar to Kromm, so maybe they came from the same place.”

  “So, we know there has at least been one other troll like him,” I begin, sorting through the information we had uncovered. “But that is about all we know now. We aren’t any closer to finding anything about what makes him special, or how to stop him.”

  I let out a frustrated sigh and close the book I had been scanning through, convinced it was filled with useless information on the ancient language of the trolls. Rayfe closes his own, having read through all the relevant parts of it as well. He leans back in his chair, eyes rising to the ceiling as he thinks.

  “I’m stumped,” Rayfe says after a little while. “I feel like we haven’t learned anything helpful. I’m going to ask Rivka for help. If anyone can help us find some useful information on Kromm, it’s him.”

  Rayfe stands, and walks back over to the ancient elf’s desk, and begins talking to him. I stay seated and watch the conversation from afar. Rivka nods at Rayfe and begins talking animatedly, his hands moving in big gestures in front of him. I can’t make out any of the words, but Rayfe stands silently, nodding, and I hope he is receiving some helpful information. Suddenly Rivka comes out from behind the desk again and leads Rayfe out of my eyesight into the rows of bookshelves across the room. Soon after, Rayfe returns to the table with three books in hand, a much shorter stack than we had previously been going through. I wait for him to sit down across the table, anxious to hear what he has learned.

  “He thinks we may be dealing with a greater being,” Rayfe answers finally, once he is situated at the
table.

  “A what?” I ask, unfamiliar with the term.

  “A greater being,” Rayfe repeats. “Apparently, with the races we traditionally see as evil, sometimes a member of the species will emerge who is superior to the rest. He might be stronger, or faster, or smarter or have abilities that the others don’t. These greater beings are said to have been born out of evil and chaos. That’s why they are never found in humans or elves, or other good races. They are born to lead evil, and kill and destroy, and tip the balance toward darkness. Most conflicts between good and evil result in a shift of this balance that is too small to cause any disruption, but a greater being has enough power to tip the scales.”

  “And what happens if the balance is disrupted enough?” I ask, lost in this philosophical talk of good and evil, but hoping it leads to the answers we need.

  “Nothing good,” Rayfe answers vaguely. “The balance has always been maintained well enough that a significant shift hasn’t occurred, or at least in the times that anyone has written about and recorded. But if Kromm is one of these greater beings, he is here to try to disrupt the balance again. If we hadn’t stopped him when we did, he would’ve succeeded in destroying the city and could have continued slaughtering innocents and strengthening the pull of darkness on the world. He needs to be stopped before he gathers enough forces around him to try again.”

  “So, how do we stop him?” I ask, finally feeling as if we might be getting somewhere in this hunt for knowledge. “Did Rivka tell you anything about that?”

  “Kind of,” Rayfe begins. “He told me that the few times he has heard of greater beings coming up in history, they were always fought off with the assistance of some type of magic. Back when magic was much more prevalent and magic users were powerful, this assistance could be as simple as a group of sorcerers combining their magical strength to defeat a greater being. More recently, because magic has all but disappeared, it requires the use of some kind of powerful magical item to channel the necessary power. He told me that while they are rare, and almost completely lost over time, there are still several potent magical artifacts hidden around the world, which may possess the necessary strength to kill Kromm. He couldn’t tell me of anything in particular, but these books may be helpful in pointing us in the direction of one of those artifacts.”