The Second Prophecy (Part 1 of the Dragdani Prophecies)

by R. Alan Ferguson

  The horse did hot like being tied, so it took the farmer a few minutes to finish.

  While that was going on Peter happened to look up at the sign that was hanging above the door. A light breeze caused it to slowly spin, for it was held by only one chain. The other was broken. Peter saw that on the notice was a picture of a pig with a pouty expression on its fat face standing on its hind legs with its arms folded. Below the sketch written in large letters it read: The Huffy Hog.

  When Jert had finished with the horse, they stepped inside.

  As the door opened, tobacco smoke hit them right up the face. Peter squinted a little as the thick cloud of swirling smoke stung his eyes. He smelt another type of smoke mixed in there, too, one that he knew well enough.

  “That smells like weed,” he said to his companion.

  “You’re right, it is,” said the Wizard merrily. It’s Staptaw. The best weed from the Uamta-parts. They’re the best in their business, because they leave it to ripen an extra term. Huri’s brother works up there. He told me. But don’t go telling anyone else. If the Uamkaer brothers find out, he could get the sack.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The True Spawn of Salith

  A terrible silence fell over the room as the door opened and the two figures entered. The talking resumed when the people in the pub recognized the farmer. However, it stopped again when this strange young man came into view. Their eyes fell upon the large heavy chest he was carrying with no trouble whatsoever?

  “This is Dermo, the son of an old friend,” declared the Wizard, “and he’s been staying with my wife and me for a few days.”

  At first, the people just stared, but talking soon resumed, though the locals continued to watch as the two headed for the bar.

  Peter saw that the lanterns that ran along the length of the walls were all lit. Along with the smaller ones hanging from the dark-looking, smoke-ridden ceiling, they emanated a dull light over the heads of the people there. The boy also saw stalls at both sides of the room. The booths were fitted with small rectangular tables. In addition, there were also small square and rectangular tables out on the floor, with the people sitting on little cushioned stools.

  “Do you want your usual beer?” asked the bartender when he saw the farmer approach the bar.

  “You better make it two double malts, Euol,” said the farmer. “And I think you better have the same.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Oh trust me you’re really going to need it.”

  “And why’s that, old friend?”

  Jert stepped aside, and his friend saw the boy standing with the chest in his arms.

  “Omigods!” he said.

  “Yeah, that’s what I said,” said the farmer.

  “By Lanasic’s wings! Jert, he looks just like King Dragdani!”

  “Yeah, I kind of noticed that too.”

  “Dragdani? He was the King before my dad is that right?” asked Peter.

  “Yes, he was, and he was also the one that stopped the - wait it would be safer to talk in the back; we’ll have more privacy,” said the bartender. He lifted up a section of the bar, and Peter and Jert went on through to the back. A boy came up behind them carrying a tray full of dirty dishes to the kitchen

  “BRATEN! BRATEN!”

  “Dad, I’m here,” said the boy.

  “Ah, there you are Braten. You remember my old friend Jert.”

  “Yeah, dad. He’s in here all the time.”

  “That’s right; well this is Dra -”

  “Dermo,” Jert put in. “for now anyway.

  “Yes, Dermo,” said the bar owner. “Take care of them and get them whatever they what okay.”

  “Yes, dad,” said the boy.

  “Good boy.”

  “But mum says I’ve got to clean all of these dishes.”

  “Well, tell her that I said that you can leave them,” said Euol.

  “Are you kidding? She’ll kill me! I think you’d better say to her,” said his son.

  “I’ll tell you what,” said the father, “take my wand use a spell to clean them. You do remember how to -”

  “Of course I know how to do magic. You taught me, remember? I hope someday you’ll get me my own wand. You know my sixteenth birthday is coming round soon.”

  “You know I can’t. Not yet. Your mother would eat me alive.”

  “Yeah, I know,” said the boy with a disappointed sigh.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to her about it. And remember, just a small spell,” said Euol as he gave the boy his wand. “Now hurry in case your mum comes.”

  The boy ran off to the kitchen, leaving the others standing in the hall. A minute later, he was back and looking quite happy with himself.

  “Well?” said his father.

  “All done,” said Braten. He handed the wand back to his father, who put it into what looked like a money purse tied to his belt.

  Peter noticed the wand was longer then the purse, and yet it went all the way in with no trouble whatsoever. The young King was about to ask about it, though he didn’t get the chance and soon forgot all about it.

  “Good, now sit and keep our friends company,” said Euol, “while I help your mother.” Then the tavern owner was gone.

  Braten sat down opposite the farmer and the young Draga-Wizard-Elf.

  “So what do your parents do?” Braten asked Peter. “If you don’t mind me asking?” he said politely.

  “My mum’s a writer. My biological dad was killed at the battle of Kealhal, and my step dad is deputy Grand Wizard of the city Cayer-Huld,” replied Peter steadily.

  “Seriously,” said the other boy, as though anyone would be foolish enough lie about something like that in a village of men.

  “Yeah, it’s true. And just so you know, my name is Drago,”

  “What was your dad’s name? I mean your real dad.”

  There was a short pause.

  “Jastark.”

  “But that was the name of the King,” said the boy, his eyebrows rising.

  “That’s right,” said Jert, “and this is King Drago, son of Jastark.”

  The boy’s mouth fell open.

  “You’re the Wiz-Wit King?” he asked Peter.

  “I just told you he was, didn’t I?” said the farmer

  “My dad served your dad. He told me everything that he could,” said Braten. “I’ve always wanted to see the Wiz-Wit cities. My dad told me about them and taught me a lot of spells, but I’ve always wanted to see the city with my own eyes and maybe even go to the Wizard school,” said the boy eagerly.

  “Maybe your mum and dad will let you go,” said Peter.

  “Dad would, but my mum? I doubt it.”

  They continued to talk about the Wizards and Witches, which, of course, was Braten’s favorite subject.

  Peter was also happy to talk about them, for although he knew Wizards and Witches existed, until that day he had no idea there were so many. He only knew those few who were introduced to him now and then. The young King liked that he would learn a bit more about them.

  Jert did the most of the talking, for he was the only one of the three that had actually been in the cities.

  However, in the kitchen the innkeeper’s wife had seen the stack of clean dishes, glasses, and tankards that were slightly bigger than Euol had thought.

  “BRATEN!” shouted the boy’s mother.

  Braten jumped up and ran to the door.

  “Mum, I’m here; what’s wrong?” the youth asked.

  “Tell me how you finished that pile of dishes so quickly?” she said as she stormed toward him.

  The boy said nothing. However, his silence seemed to have said everything.

  “You used magic again, didn’t you?”

  “Don’t take it out on him, Kireth. I told him too. I didn’t see any harm in it -”

  “Euol, I thought we agreed that he wasn’t to use any magic again until he’s old enough to use it responsibly.”

  “He’s nearly s
ixteen, and I think that he’s learned his lesson after the fire,” said the boy’s father sincerely.

  “I know that he’s been more responsible, but still -”

  “STILL WHAT? YOU PROMISED! YOU SAID THAT WHEN I WAS OLD ENOUGH THAT I COULD GO AND LEARN IN CAYER-HULD!” screamed Braten furiously.

  “DON’T YOU DARE SHOUT AT ME, YOUNG MAN. I’M STILL YOUR MOTHER!” the woman replied, just as heatedly and with higher volume so everyone in the building heard her.

  Peter thought this woman reminded him of his own mother, though she wouldn’t have been so smothering as to keep him away from something that he might have wanted to do.

  “Stop shouting,” said Euol. “Everyone in the town can hear the two of you. Besides, we have guests.”

  Kireth spun round to see the farmer that she knew very well, though she knew his wife better, as they were sisters.

  “Jert, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you,” she said earnestly. Then she realized that there was someone sitting not too far away.

  “Hello,” she said. “I don’t think I know you.”

  “May I present Drago son of Jastark?” said the innkeeper, “King of the Wiz-Wit world.”

  The woman looked at her husband half expecting him to laugh, but when he didn’t, she reddened.

  “He’s your King,” she said to her husband.

  The Wizard nodded.

  She became scarlet at the thought of a King seeing her behave in such a way.

  “He’ll think I hate Wizards,” she whispered to her husband. “Forgive me for not showing you the proper respect just now and for not greeting you at the time of your arrival,” she said.

  “You don’t have to apologize,” said Peter now going a little red himself.

  “Can we talk in private?” Kireth said to Euol.

  “Sure, dear,” said her husband.

  “Please excuse us, won’t you,” she added to the two guests.

  Once again the three were left to talk as the innkeeper and his wife went into the room opposite. The man sat on a scarlet chair, which had a pattern of puffy flowers of a finer red color.

  The woman stood in front of the large unlit fireplace. The thick grey ashes were still smoking slightly, indicating a fire had recently died.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that your King was here? I looked like a Wizard-hater,” said the Wizard’s wife.

  “Well, everyone else in this town is, so I doubt if one more will make a difference,” laughed the Wizard. “Besides, you’re married to me, and our son is a Wizard, so I think it’s clear that you’re not a Wizard-hater.”

  “Still, it would have looked better if I could have been introduced to him before I made an arse of myself.”

  “You’re right, of course. But I think here might be a way of redeeming yourself, just in case he did take your outburst the wrong way,” said the innkeeper slyly, seeing his chance to try and keep his promise to his son and change his wife’s mind.

  “And what is it?” she asked enthusiastically.

  “King Drago will surely be heading to Opredanas and to Cayer-Huld.”

  “You must think I’m pretty dumb if you think I’m going to fall for that. I know what you’re trying to do.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You’re trying to convince me to agree with you and send Braten to the city,” said the woman sharply.

  “He’s almost sixteen. Two years is all the time he has left. After that, he won’t be able to go to the Wizard school. And remember, you did promise that he could go,” said Euol sincerely.

  “Huri and Jert sent their son away to be a Wizard, and where’s he now, huh? I’ll tell you where he is Euol. He’s dead, and I don’t want that to happen to our son,” said Kireth.

  “You can’t hold on to him forever, Kireth. If you do, he could grow up resenting you for it, and I’m sure you don’t want that either,” said the Wizard.

  “It least he’d be alive.”

  “Kireth, please let it be his choice whether to stay or go. Let it be his birthday present.”

  “Fine,” said the boy’s mother, finally giving in and sounding beaten. It really was the thought of her son hating her that did it in the end. “But if anything happens to him, I swear Euol I’ll -”

  “I know,” said the Wizard rolling his eyes.

  “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that you worry too much. There’s nothing to worry about, and nothing’s going to happen to him. We’ll be sending him with the most power being ever born. I think he’s going to be okay.”

  The woman still looked a little unconvinced, but said nothing more about it.

  “You should tell him I’m going back to work,” said Kireth. She always worked harder when upset about something. Sometimes she overworked, but it helped her forget about it, at least for a short while.

  “No,” said her husband, “I think you should at least be here, or he won’t believe it.”

  She gave a short sigh because she knew he was right, though she would never admit it.

  They went back to the others, and Euol told his son that he could go and train to be a Wizard at Cayer-Huld. The choice was his.

  For Kireth, this was one of those times that felt as though it would last forever.

  “DID YOU HEAR THAT?” shouted the boy joyfully. “I’M GOING TO BE A WIZARD!”

  “Good for you, boy,” cheered Jert.

  “You’ll be able to show mum and me around, dad. It’ll be great.”

  Suddenly, there was silence, and within that time, Kireth had seriously considered saying yes, it will. Then came Euol’s voice. “Braten, your mother and I aren’t going with you.” Euol’s voice full of regret, though the Wizard knew this was something his son would have to do without them.

  The boy’s mother was ready to throw everyone out lock the doors and pack her bags. However, she didn’t. Instead, she stood there fighting back tears. That’s all she could do.

  “I better get back to work. Huwoi and Gemoil won’t be able to manage on their own much longer,” she said, hoping to get away.

  “That’s fine, dear. You go on,” said Euol sincerely. He knew that if she didn’t get away, she would start blubbering in front of them, and afterwards, she would be so embarrassed for it. So she left swiftly.

  “How am I getting to the city?” asked Braten slowly.

  “Well,” said his father, “I was hoping that you would take him with you when you’re going,” he said to Peter.

  “I… I don’t even know if I am going,” replied Peter.

  “What do you mean, you might not be going?” Jert said. “You have to go. He has to go, right Euol?”

  “You mean because of that stupid Prophecy the Good Wizard told me I had to fulfill,” said Peter scornfully.

  “You mean the Grand Wizard,” the farmer corrected the young King.

  “Yeah, the old guy with the staff,” said Peter.

  “Old guy! Old guy! Let me tell you, the Grand Wizard is the most -”

  “Jert, please! Can’t you tell the boy’s confused and scared about what’s happening?” said the innkeeper.

  “Sure, I’m a little confused. Who wouldn’t be? But I’m not scared.”

  “Then what is it?” asked Euol.

  “How would you like to wake up one day and find out that who you thought you were and everything that you thought you had were nothing but big lies? And those you thought were your family were the ones that lied to you,” said the Draga-Wizard-Elf. “I mean, is my life just for rent or something? The people who need me the most get me. Is that it?” the words were spat from the boy’s mouth like fire from a Dragon.

  “I don’t know,” said Euol. “The only person here who knows your family is you. So ask yourself, do you think that your family would put you to the highest bidder?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know what to think anymore,” said Peter weakly. “I mean, what am I, or better yet, who am I?”
/>
  “As for what you are, I’m sure that you’ve already been told, but to understand it, you’ll have to ask someone who knows more about it, and the only place you’ll find someone who knows about your kind is Cayer-Huld,” said the innkeeper. “Now as for who you are,” he put his finger to his lips, “that’ll be a little harder to find out, for only you can find the answer to that particular question. I think that the only way you’re going to find out who you are is if you go to the home you were meant to have all along.”

  “Cayer-Huld, right?”

  The innkeeper nodded. “I’ll tell you what,” said the tavern owner, “we’ll give you time to think about it. How’s that?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. And in the mean time, you’ll stay here with my family and me.”

  “But I don’t have any money,” said Peter.

  “Drago, in order to serve your father, my King, I swore an oath to the entire line of the Kings of the Wiz-Wit kind. Only then was I allowed into his service, and in doing so, I am bound to his children and their children, if I life that long. Let me say that I will be honored to do so. And hear me when I say that you are now my King and I am your servant whenever you need me.” The Wizard bowed his head as a sign of respect.

  His son and Jert did the same. This made Peter all the more restless.

  “Please don’t bow,” he said.

  The three obeyed immediately by lifting their heads again.

  “Braten, go help your mum out in front room would you?” said the innkeeper, turning his head to meet his son’s glance.

  When his son was gone, the Wizard turned his gaze back to Peter. “Right, Drago,” he said. “Let’s get you a room.”

  The two friends took Peter and his wooden chest, which Peter took the liberty of pretending to carry again. Up the slender stairs they went. When they got to the second floor, Euol turned to Peter.

  “You don’t need to pretend to carry that anymore,” he said, pointing to the chest.

  Peter gladly let it go and continued to climb the steps with it in front. They soon reached the fourth floor of the inn. That was also the last. A long, well-lit hallway awaited them. They went straight down the hall.