“Euol, please inform the leaders of the other races that we will be holding a meeting.” Suddenly he stopped. “Where will we hold the meeting, John?” he asked.
“Begging your pardon, sir, but what about the tent the men are setting up?” said Euol.
“Tent,” said Delsani, surprised. He turned round and there it was a large white tent almost ready to be raised.
“Those fools. What in the name of hell do they think they’re doing?” said the old Wizard angrily. They ran over to the area of the not quite finished tent.
“Where is Prince Bacnil?” asked Delsani of one of the men holding a rope, as they started to raise the tent.
“The Prince left orders that he was not to be disturbed,” said the man fearfully. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Yes,” said Delsani, ‘there’s something you can do. You can tell me where to find the Prince. Or I could always make you tell me. It’s your choice.”
The man hesitated, but then Delsani reached into his pocket and swiftly took out his wand.
“He’s round the back seeing to the work being done there,” said the man, his voice shaking. The Wizards could hear the pure fear as the poor man spoke.
John was surprised at his old friend; it was unlike the Wizard to threaten anyone in that way.
They went around the side of the tent. There were many men, but Delsani recognized Prince Bacnil. The seventeen-year-old boy was the third and youngest son of Leroih, the King of the men of the eastern plains, commonly known as the Morden.
The young prince stood watching the progress; he had a baby face, wavy long black hair, and was as thin as a rake. John actually thought he looked anorexic. And in the opinion of most of the Wizards, Elves, and Dwarves, he looked much too young and green to be leading anyone into battle. Yet the men seemed to have faith in him and his abilities, or perhaps they had no choice. After all he was their Prince.
“I’m not sure that putting up this tent is a good idea,” said Delsani to the young man, “as it may be seen.”
“I think we’re a safe distance away from any danger,” said the Prince in his childlike voice.
“Is that so?” said the Wizard. Delsani then walked forward until he was at the edge of the forest. “Well. Then, I would ask you to draw your attention to the cleft yonder.” the Wizard was now pointing far across the extensive field before him. When Bacnil followed the Wizard’s steps and looked, he could see a dark cleft standing tall and proud.
“Well, can you see it?” asked Delsani.
“Yes, I can see it,” replied Bacnil.
“And would you say that if the tent was up and you were standing on that cleft, you might be able to see the very top of it?”
For a few seconds the Prince stood there staring at the cleft. He turned and looked at the tent, which was almost fully up. “Take the tent down,” he said to the closest man to him.
It was at this time John noticed that the clear sky had gone and a black cloud was hovering overhead. His eyes turned green again, and he walked until he was clear of the trees and then looked toward the fortress. He zoomed in on it and could see that one of the doors high up on the left tower was open, but only because he could see a very dim light coming from inside. He zoomed in further on the door and could see a balcony, and on it he could see two dark figures standing there. He could see that they, too, had Dragon eyes. He could also see the color of their eyes, which shone like four beacons in the darkness of that forsaken land. The eyes of the figure to John’s right were purple, and the other set of eyes of the figure to his left were yellow. John knew that the purple eyes belonged to Ulicoth, and that the yellow eyes belonged to Kilamen, for this he had read in the scrolls of Thoucil, which she had written after her first encounter with them.
John became aware of a very faint pounding noise. He thought that it sounded like marching, as though whatever it was coming his way. He also noticed that he could feel a slight tremble in the ground. He zoomed out, but he could see nothing in front of him.
Delsani then came over to him. “What’s wrong, Jastark?” he asked.
“They know we’re here,” replied the King, “and there’s something else, I can hear what sounds like an army marching this way, but there’s nothing there.”
“This land has been claimed by Ulicoth and is completely covered by the shadow of Salith,” said Delsani. “Use the Light of Yeluilat.”
“What about it?” John asked.
“It will penetrate the shadow and show us what is hiding behind it.”
The marching drew ever closer. The tremble in the ground was now heavier, louder, and worse, nearer.
John took the sword from its sheath he held out in front of him and shouted, “YELUILAT!” A blinding light burst from its blade. John was the only one that was not affected by its light. No one else could see a thing, for the light was so strong.
The King could see the marcher now. “BETWEENS (former Men turned by the Dark Lord Salith), LORES, AND GOBLINS!” he shouted. And they were very close to them and getting closer with every passing second.
The blade slowly dimmed, and the others got their first look at Ulicoth’s army. To them it looked as though his army was the same or perhaps a little smaller than their own, and that filled their hearts with hope.
Prince Bacnil threw on his helmet. “To arms,” he shouted as he jumped onto his horse. If not for the seriousness of the situation it would have looked and sounded ridiculous, a skinny, fresh-faced, inexperienced young man with the voice of a fourteen year old expecting an army to trust him with their very lives. Most, but not all of the men stayed with their prince. The rest of the army ran to John and Delsani.
“Archers, take your places and ready your bows,” shouted Delsani. The Morden archers formed two lines. The front line got down onto their right knee. Both lines of archers fixed their arrows to their bow strings, which they drew back ready to go at the first command. The Elven archers who stood only ten feet from the men did the same.
Suddenly, a long bright yellow light appeared. When it faded, they saw Kilamen standing not far ahead of Ulicoth’s army. They knew that it was she, as they could see her bright yellow Dragon eyes glaring at them.
“Go now, Jastark,” said Delsani. “We will fight this battle. You have your own battle to fight. Go now before they draw to near.”
“I should stay and help,” said John.
“No,” said Delsani, “Ulicoth has seen you, and now knows that there is other Wizard-Elf. He has most likely guessed that you have come to kill him. And in his weakened state, he is probably no match for you. That’s why he has sent Kilamen to find you before you can get close enough to harm him. Run into the forest and then Phaze up to the fortress and bring the Second Prophecy to light.”
John nodded. ‘Okay,” he said. “Be careful my friend.”
“And you watch your head. Be extra careful,” said Delsani. “Good luck, your majesty.”
John smiled when he heard his true title.
“Now go before it’s too late,” said Delsani. “We’ll try and keep Kilamen busy as long as we can.”
Chapter Four
The Wicked Wizard-Elf
As John ran toward the forest, he could see the tree line, which was now not too far ahead of him. He picked up speed and was running faster than he had ever run in his entire life. If he were to blink he would have missed his entrance into the forest. Before he knew it, he was in the middle of the woodland when he abruptly stopped, his feet skidding on the ground, which was riddled with old twigs, leaves, fallen acorns, and chestnuts, and pine cones.
The forest was dark, darker then it had looked from the outside. John looked up, but he could not see the clouds above, though he could clearly hear the clashing of metal and the shouts and yells of those barking orders, not to mention the unnerving screams of the first wounded of the battle that was being waged just beyond the borders of the trees. Then there was the sound of a twig breaking and a sweet soft v
oice calling to him through the woodland. There was nothing else in his mind now, not the sound of the battle being fought behind him, not even the sound of the wind gently blowing between the trees. He looked in every direction, but there was nothing there. He gripped his hand around the handle of Yeluilat in case the shadow was hiding something else. He was about to draw the sword from its sheath when he saw someone standing in front of him.
From the size and frame of this person, John was confident that was, in fact, a woman, and she was only a few trees away from him. She was wearing a pearl white dress, and she had a hood over her head that was attached to a white veil that guarded her face. She wore no socks or shoes of any kind. Her voice seemed louder and stronger in the few seconds that passed. John began to walk toward her, entranced by her beautiful voice. She threw back her hood and veil and John was amazed with the beauty before him. He had taken only a few steps when a loud howl rang out throughout the forest.
The voice stopped, for the howl had startled the woman. She took a few steps back toward the trees behind her.
She was not as beautiful as John thought. Her eyes were cold and grey, her skin was frost white, wrinkled, dry and cracked. Her long nails were chipped and ragged, and her hair was tattered and as white as her very skin. But John could not see her for what she really was, for he was still entranced by her voice and stood there still as stone. The leaves began to rustle close by. Someone or something was coming their way. The woman began to retreat into the trees until the darkness surrounded her and she could no longer be seen.
The thing that scared the woman away came closer and closer until it emerged from behind the trees to John’s right. It was the Wolf Demala. The Wolf ran to his friend’s side. He stood there surveying the Wizard-Elf with his bright red eyes.
The creature’s fur was white on his lower body, legs, paws, and both sides of his face, and chest, with the slightest rings around his eyes; however, his tail was blood red running up his back, over his head, ears, and leading down to his light brown nose. He was a beautiful creature. Helen thought he was cute, which made John laugh.
“I wouldn’t let him hear you say that,” he warned.
Now Demala still stood beside the entranced Wizard King.
“WAKE UP JOHN!” the Wolf howled at his friend. But John did not move. Demala shouted again and still nothing. He then trotted over to the King’s side and sank his teeth into his leg. John yelled part in pain and part in shock. For Demala’s bite had woken him from the woman’s spell.
“Were did she go?” asked John sounding puzzled.
“Trust me when I say, you don’t want to know the answer to that question,” replied Demala.
“Try me.”
“Fine, she’s a Valcota a drinker of blood.”
“A vampire,” said John, now sounding a little distant.
“You should not have come here so soon John. You’re not ready yet. You’re not experienced enough to face even one Wizard-Elf, never mind two at once,” said Demala, concerned.
“I don’t intend to face both of them at once. One at a time is the plan,” replied John confidently.
“Don’t go in there thinking that this’ll all go your way. Ulicoth may be still recovering from the blow that Dragdani dealt him all of those years ago, but he’s no fool. I believe he’s been expecting an attack. Why else would he sit still with an enormous army that he has spent so many years building unless he has been waiting for the right time to release his wraith upon this world?”
“What are you talking about? Ulicoth’s army is no bigger than our own,” said the King, the arrogance flowing from his words.
“Don’t be so sure,” said the Wolf. “Think, John. He has had nearly six hundred years to make his army and you’ve had just two. His is forces are ten times the size. Do the math.”
“You’re right. Six hundred years is a long time, but remember Ulicoth was near death for most of it. He’s only started to recover these past five years, and it would take him that long to breed half of the creatures I saw and to persuade the other half, which were most likely hiding in the mountains in distant lands, to fight for him.”
“Don’t be sure. Ulicoth is stronger then you think. Don’t underestimate him, my friend, for all our sakes.”
“I’ve got to go. They won’t be able to keep Kilamen busy for long,” said John.
“Very well,” said Demala, “but I still think that you’ve come too soon. After all, there were two prophecies.”
“Yes, I know. Why do you think we’ve come now? We’re trying to prevent the first one from coming true. If we attack now instead of waiting for him to attack, we can stop him before it’s too late.”
“Okay, just be careful, and don’t be over confident, and never think about putting down your guard even for a moment.”
“Fine, but I’ve really got to go,” said John.
“Then the only thing left for me to say is good luck. And I really mean that, John,” said Demala.
“Thank you, my friend,” replied John warmly. A green light came around the King, and when it had faded, all that was left was a green vapor slowly spreading and dispersing in the air. He had Phazed, just as Kilamen had done, from the fortress to the once hidden army of Ulicoth. John found that he could not Phaze directly into the fortress, for it was protected by magic. Instead he Phazed himself to underneath the balcony that he had seen Ulicoth and Kilamen standing on only minutes before. John switched back to his Dragon eyes, and with them he was able to measure the distance from where he stood to the balcony, which was quite high up. He bent his knees and jumped up straight up, higher and higher. In those few seconds he could see the balcony getting closer until he was beneath it. He stretched out his arm and caught the bottom of it, and with minimum effort, he pulled himself up over the rail of the balcony and landed on his feet.
Meanwhile, on the battlefield, most of the alliance lead by Prince Bacnil and the Dwarf Lord Eiaten were successfully pushing their enemies back toward the main mountain. Delsani had commandeered as many soldiers as he could call to him: Men, Dwarves, and Elves. He didn’t care as long as it would help him to delay Kilamen’s departure. She was walking calmly through the field trying to find the one that had come to kill her master and killing any that would dare to cross her path.
The old Wizard knew he would soon cross paths with her. He knew that he had to try and buy the Wizard King enough time. Even if it resulted in his demise, it was the only way. He could see her walking closer to him, but again she stopped drew her hand up slightly. Delsani could see yellow energy building up in her hand. The energy then took shape and became round and hovered only a few centimeters above the palm of her hand. He could clearly see the ball of energy swirling round. She threw the energy ball at an Elven warrior who had run at her, hitting him straight in the heart, killing him instantly. She laughed at him, just as she had done so many times before, as he fell to the muddy ground.
One of the men then came running toward her with his sword held high, but before he could get near her, she put out her hand again. There was flash of yellow light, and the man’s sword disappeared from his hand and appeared in hers. She swiped low and cut straight through the man’s stomach. She spun the sword round between her fingers. Now the blade was pointing behind her. She shoved it into the throat of Eiaten’s youngest son, Paril. Then hit him in the face with her right elbow, pulled the sword back out and threw it up.
The sword flipped round. She caught it with the blade the right way up. She did not keep the sword for long, though, for she threw it at another man who was charging at her. It went right through his chest. She stood there in front of her latest victim looking around, wondering whether so many would be so foolish to attack her if they knew who she was. And then it came to her. They were all decoys.
Delsani could see the expression on her face. Now, he thought, now it’s time. His sword was already in his right hand. He reached into his pocket with his left and took out his wand then calmly
walked toward the Wicked Wizard-Elf.
John went from the balcony into a great dark room. Ulicoth must’ve decorated this place, thought the King. The floor was grey marble. The ceiling was red, and the walls were purple. On the walls were shields, swords and other different and strange weapons.
He was deep into the room and could see a number of flags of all different shapes and sizes. There were a few that he recognized, but he had only seen them in books and scrolls. They were the flags of the other Wizard orders that exist in their world. The flags were forming a square around a symbol that had captured John’s complete and undivided attention. It was the flag of the Dark Lord Salith. That flag was considered to be the ultimate sign of evil throughout the lands of Dorminya. It was scarlet, and in the middle was the Symbol of Salith, which was oval-shaped. The edge of it was silver, and in the middle was a silver skull with only the top set of teeth. Its eyes were dark and glittery blue in the area that surrounded the skull.
John could see a bed in the distance, and on it was Ulicoth resting silently. He walked toward him and drew his hand up. An energy ball began to build form in it. John then did the same with his other hand getting ready for the onslaught.
But before he got any closer, Ulicoth awoke.
“I have been waiting for you John,” he said.
John was not surprised to hear that his enemy knew his Normal name. He knew Ulicoth had spies everywhere. He was, however, surprised by Ulicoth’s voice, as it sounded ordinary and refined, even friendly. He had expected it to be wicked and cold.
“And how did you know that I would be here?” asked John.
“Let’s just say a little traitor told me,” replied Ulicoth with an impious grin on his face.
Little traitor, John thought. Who could it be? The first name that sprang to mind was Demala. “The Wolf had told John that Ulicoth was expecting him. But then why warn me of it. It doesn’t make any since.
Ulicoth sat up and slowly got off of the bed. He stood up. John noticed he was hunched over slightly, and his hood covered the top of his face just as Delsani’s had done when he appeared at the Stark residence. Ulicoth was wearing cherry red robes. On his chest holding his robes together was a broach. It was the Symbol of Salith and was exactly the same in shape and color as on the scarlet flag. He was also wearing a ring on his left index finger. It was silver and looked like the skull of a Lore warrior. The old Wizard-Elf’s face and hands had bulging purple veins and were wrinkled and bony, and his skin was chalky white.
The Second Prophecy (Part 1 of the Dragdani Prophecies) Page 6
