Prophecy of the Seer

by K.N. Lee

  Auroria was deep into their winter season already, and as he focused on her energy, his skin became tight with gooseflesh and he could breathe out the cold air with each puff of his breaths.

  The moon was bright above, and the song of the jungle welcomed him as he trudged deeper and deeper, until he came to the sacred spot he’d created for himself in the early years of his time in Avia’Torena.

  There was a small structure built into the lush trees and thick underbelly of bushes, large roots, and fallen leaves.

  Once he stepped inside, he sat on the floor and crossed his legs. He breathed in, and began channeling his dark gift.

  Closing his eyes, he summoned the power of his ancestors, and the dark creatures of the Underworld.

  Inside his mind’s eye, he saw two sets of red eyes emerge in the darkness. They glowed, and watched him, waiting.

  When he opened his eyes, he stared back at the beasts, and a smile crept across his face.

  “Master,” they spoke, in unison. Their voices came out gruff, like a bear struggling to form words, but smoothed out as he worked more magic. “Command your bidding. We will execute your will.”

  Dragnor stood, raising his hands as he did so, and the creatures were lifted up from all fours.

  Now, they stood like men, with thick haunches and the legs of a goat. Hair covered their faces as they slowly morphed into more humanoid forms, with angled chins, narrow eyes, and long hair.

  Pleased with his creation, he nodded, and clasped his hands.

  “Follow the Bellens,” he said. “Make sure they are successful in their mission.”

  With a nod, the two creatures looked to one another, and vanished with the wind.

  Their cackles filled the jungle as they floated away, and echoed in the night.

  When he turned around, he stiffened. Slowly, he looked over his shoulder.

  Nothing was there.

  But, he could feel her—sense her.

  “It is done,” he said, knowing she could hear him. “Have you gotten the girl?”

  For a moment, there was no reply. He searched the jungle and its shadows, and saw nothing.

  Then, she spoke.

  “Yes,” Ocura Mage replied, merely a whisper on the wind. “She is mine.”

  8

  “Yoska, this place,” Aria said, breathless. She peered over the mountain at the strange new world below. “Feels nothing like my home.”

  “It’s feels a bit like yours,” Yoska said, his silver hair rustling with the cool breeze. “And, a bit like mine.”

  White-capped mountains and dark forests stretched outward below. There were trails of white snow and ice that weaved in and out of the tightly-knit trees.

  Behind her, was an ocean that seemed to never end, with crystalline beaches and white sand. It was much different from the ocean she’d grown up next to. In Oren, the ocean waves crashed along rocks and beaches were non-existent.

  “Which way do we go?” Aria asked, turning to the handsome Silver Elf at her side. “This place is so foreign, I can’t seem to tell north from south, east from west. Not that it would matter. Tryans haven’t been on this side of the Barrier since it was created.”

  Both dressed in their traveling clothes, and while Yoska carried a sword, Aria was armed with a dagger and the magic within. She listened to the world around her, searching for any whisperings or signs that would point her in the right direction.

  They’d traveled though the Mother’s Gate to Eura, and now had no idea as to where exactly in the human realm they’d been transported.

  “We’ll figure it out,” he said, and scanned their surroundings. “Actually, I have an idea.”

  He then shrugged off his cloak, clothes, and set down his sword. Stark naked, he closed his eyes.

  Astounded at how he could just undress in front of her without a worry in the world, Aria took a step backward.

  “What are you doing?”

  Her answer came as he shifted from his elven form to that of a large black and white eagle.

  He flapped his wings, and glanced back at her. “I’ll go take a look, and come back. Stay here.”

  She nodded, speechless. Until then, she had no idea he could shift at will. But, as he flew higher and higher into the sky, it was clear that this new form was as much a part of him as the other.

  All of her life, Yoska had been an eagle, and that was all she knew him to be. Now, he was so much more than she could have ever dreamed.

  As she watched him fly through the pale blue sky, she couldn’t help the faint smile that came to her face.

  While he scouted, she found a smooth spot on a large boulder to sit upon, where she waited.

  For a moment, the silence that stretched all around her was soothing. The air felt different here—smelled different—and everything had an odd energy about it.

  Nonetheless, the more she sat there beneath the large trees that seemed to hug her as she settled, it no longer felt much more different from Oren after all.

  In Kyril, she’d traveled far and wide across the realm. She’d meet with kings and faraway chiefs to solidify the peaceful treaties that kept her home a peaceful place.

  For a moment, she missed Cyden, and wondered where he and the fairies were, and how they were fairing in this brewing storm. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. None she missed more than her boy.

  “Liam,” she said, whispering into the wind. “We will meet again, my love.”

  Though her heart seemed to cave in and clutch within her chest, she released a long sigh that provided a moment of ease from the all-consuming pain. Memories of Liam smiling at her every morning when he’d race into her room from his private quarters adjacent to hers returned.

  He’d always been such a happy child, utterly devoted to his mother, yet caring and loving to all he met. She’d never forget the how kind and gentle he was, even to his servants and tutors, and how the entire kingdom seemed to adore him.

  That was all a faint dream now. Oren no longer loved her or her legacy.

  A tear fell from her cheek, and she didn’t bother to wipe it. She let it fall, and embraced the onslaught of feelings of betrayal that had plagued her since they’d nearly executed her—since Yoska saved her.

  Her attention returned to the sky as Yoska soared her way. She could feel him before she saw him, and when he emerged, the sun seemed to glisten on his wings.

  “We’re in the south of Eura, near the mermaid waters and Imperial lines,” Yoska said once he returned. He landed, and quickly shifted back into his elven form, where he picked up his clothes from the heap on the ground and redressed himself.

  She stared, careful to keep her eyes on his face, and noted how he never even shivered while standing there in the chill of the air.

  When he was fully dressed, and armed, he returned his attention to her.

  “What’s wrong?” Yoska asked, his brows furrowing as he searched her face.

  She shook her head, silent for a moment. Then, she breathed in and out, letting the cool air cleanse her body and emotions.

  “Nothing,” she said, and stood. “I’m just hoping we can find the young king of Raeden before time runs out.”

  Yoska thumbed the hilt of his sword, contemplating.

  “If Sona took him, she’ll be bringing him back to the emperor,” he said. “And, in Kavien’s hands, we will be at a mighty disadvantage.”

  Aria hated the sound of that. “I agree,” she said, and resisted biting her nails, a foul habit she’d let go of as a child. “We track her then. You know her scent. I know her energy.”

  His brows lifted, and he nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “If we use our skills, we’ll hunt her down before the next moon cycle completes.”

  Turning to look toward the still body of water at her back, her jaw tightened.

  “Yes,” Aria said. “Let the hunt begin.”

  9

  Wilem held tightly to Sona’s waist as she handled the reigns of her wyvern.

  Jo
rge held onto him, and the three soared high above the clouds that overlooked Eura.

  The wind blew at his face, chilling his ears, and white birds soared at their side.

  They’d crossed the barrier, and headed into human territory, where the scenery was much the same as some of the Raeden countryside, but the air was cold and windy like that of Alfheim.

  From the sky, he gazed upon pastures and rows of farmland, barren lands of red dirt that gave way to glistening green pools of water. It was a truly enchanting place, one that Wilem never imagined seeing in his lifetime.

  He was the youngest son, and never had aspirations to rule. But, he never foresaw a grand journey and battles for his life before. Two years ago, he’d been content with swimming in the lake, or riding his horse across the meadows with his father.

  How he missed his family. There was still an ache in his gut, and a soreness to his heart whenever he thought of them. They didn’t deserve to be ripped apart by Shadow Elves. Yet, that was how fate determined it to be.

  “Welcome to the Empire, boys,” she said, guiding the wyvern down to the glistening river below.

  Wilem watched with widened eyes, amazed by the sprawling series of buildings that began to come into view. The river flowed through the meadows and forests, and directly through the golden city that sparkled like jewels under the bright sun.

  “Where are you taking us?” Wilem asked. Since the moment she’d come to rescue him and the servant boy who’d quickly become his best friend, she’d been vague on what her intentions were.

  Somehow, that worried him. Warnings simmered in his gut, urging him to keep his guard up, and his eyes open.

  “To a friend,” she said, her voice soft but curt, almost as if she didn’t want to entertain any further questions.

  Wilem glanced back at Jorge. Did he also feel that something was off?

  From the look in Jorge’s eyes, they shared the same suspicions.

  “I don’t like this,” Jorge whispered.

  Wilem’s stomach churned with dread.

  “Neither do I,” Wilem said.

  He wished he could call upon Vleta to help, but Sona had been quick to obtain the talisman from his possession the day she’d taken down the Silver Elf castle.

  Once they landed, Sona stepped off the wyvern.

  “Hurry, lads,” she said, her hands on her hips as she waited for them to follow her lead and hop off the wyvern.

  Wilem quickly did so, and stood at Jorge’s side.

  Together, they watched as she held out an egg, outstretching her arm and called the creature back into it.

  “Sleep,” she said.

  The wyvern bowed, and became a black mist that retracted to the glowing green orb in her right hand.

  Once she put the egg into her leather bag, she turned toward the structure before them that resembled a fort. Soldiers came and went, and some stopped to observe the odd assortment of beings before them.

  For a moment, Wilem was breathless.

  “They’re,” he began. “Humans.”

  She nodded, with a faint grimace. “Yes, humans,” she said. “Captain Vaeris, a quick word.”

  She approached one of the tall, well-built men with a long dark beard that was braided.

  Tattoos decorated his bald head and swarthy skin.

  Looking around, he noticed that most of the men were of a darker complexion. The only true difference seemed to be that the human men didn’t have the glow that Tryans were born with.

  She motioned toward Wilem and Jorge, and spoke in whispers they couldn’t decipher.

  Captain Vaeris nodded, and turned to shout an order.

  “Open the gates,” he said, motioning to the men who guarded the large, wooden doors. “We’ve got a few guests joining us.”

  With that, he chuckled and turned to lead the way inside.

  Peering into the gates of the fortress, hordes of soldiers were revealed.

  It was a military city, with barracks, an armory, and several makeshift buildings with smoke pumping from the chimneys.

  A sinking feeling filled Wilem’s gut as he stepped deeper into the doorway.

  “Get them in gear and sent to Jerrick,” Captain Vaeris said left them to return outside.

  Something about the entire situation made Wilem ill, and for a moment, he considered turning the other way to run.

  He glanced over his shoulder, and watched as the gates were closed.

  His chance had come and gone, and as Sona pushed him forward, he was certain that she was no longer a friend.

  10

  Ayoki followed Ocura Maga, careful to keep close as they walked across a thin bridge that connected two mountain systems to one another.

  Glancing downward, she watched the river rush and flow below. White foam sizzled above the racing water, and waves crashed along sharp rocks.

  The clouds seemed to meet them on the bridge, surrounding them with mist and fog.

  Despite her fear of falling hundreds of feet to her death, the spray of mist onto her face was a welcome sensation. She didn’t wipe it away, or shy from it.

  Ayoki allowed the water to cool and cleanse.

  Ocura Maga, cloaked and armed with a wand, took her to the end of the bridge. They stopped just onto the smooth surface of the mountain, where two paths were revealed. One path led upward toward what appeared to be faint buildings built into the side of the mountain. The other path wrapped around the perimeter.

  “Where are we going?” Ayoki asked her new teacher.

  Ocura Maga glanced back at her, smiling. “Today, we meet with the others.”

  Her brows lifted. Until this time, she’d simply followed and observed. It was something she was quite proficient in. Hiding in the shadows, and watching others to see who they revealed themselves to be was an art.

  Ayoki was a master at it.

  So far, Ocura Maga seemed to have good intentions. She wanted to save the world of Ellowen, put it back in balance, and eventually move on to other worlds that she could give her assistance.

  After seeing the black mass and how it destroyed an entire stretch of land, she was eager to learn how she could control it, and stop it.

  But, first, she needed to learn to control the dark power within herself.

  “Since I came to this world, I have discovered more who are like us. There are women with magic. In my world, we are called Ocura or Ocurus, depending on gender. But, here, they are known as witches.”

  Ayoki paused, her brows furrowing. “I know about witches. We stay away from them in Nostfar. They are evil.”

  Ocura Maga tilted her head, and gave Ayoki a loving smile. “Are they? Or is that simply what you have been taught to believe?”

  Ayoki shrugged. “They steal little girls. That seems evil to me.”

  “They claim girls who have magic within, and teach them how to use it,” she said. “What your societies have indoctrinated you with is only half of the story. I have oversaw their dealings for quite some time. And, the true goal is to take those with magic, and develop them into the powerful women they were born to be. We do a service. We make this world more balanced.”

  Shaking her head, Ayoki stepped back. “You have been overseeing the witches?”

  Ocura Maga nodded. “I am a teacher, Ayoki. It is what I do. I find those who need help developing their skills, and I pass along my knowledge. The witches lost their leader, and sorely needed a new one—one who could see things from a higher vantage point.”

  “And, what do witches have to do with my purpose?” Ayoki asked, wringing her hands as she looked around.

  Indeed, witches began to show themselves, filing out of openings in the mountain, clinging to the rocks with their long hair and cloaks floating in the wind around them.

  “I am heir to a Goddess,” she went on to say. “I want nothing to do with whatever this is.”

  Ocura Maga’s smile faded, and slowly, she nodded her head. “I see,” she said, and turned away from her. “I see tha
t you’re afraid. Your people never accepted you for what gifts were given so lovingly from the Ancients. They treated you like an illness, a taint that needed to be hidden away.”

  Ayoki’s cheeks burned at her words. It wasn’t as if she spoke lies. Everything she said was a bitter truth that had turned Ayoki’s heart sour with resentment and feelings of betrayal.

  “They didn’t understand me,” she said, under her breath. She placed her hand on her belly, and noted how smooth and flat it was. That only intensified the rage she’d been desperately trying to free herself from.

  The ground began to shake, and she gasped, shifting her attention from the emotions seeking to rule her.

  Ocura Maga held her hand, and met her gaze.

  “I see you, Ayoki,” she said. “I see the pain in your eyes. I know the struggle in your soul. Let us ease that struggle. You are one of us.”

  Ocura Maga motioned to the assembled witches who looked down at her.

  “This is home.”

  11

  Night fell on the army camp the soldiers called Runfell. They’d been taken in, and grouped with the younger men in the troupe.

  For a moment, Wilem and Jorge were confused, standing in a tent where they were stripped of their old clothes, and handed new ones.

  Armor.

  Wooden shields.

  Swords.

  Soon, it became clear what was happening, and Wilem’s fears were confirmed.

  Sona had enlisted them into the Imperial Army.

  The day had been composed of a series of tests and training, and Wilem realized he knew nothing of battle or fighting, but would soon be forced to learn.

  After a day of constant activity, he realized it wasn’t the worst that could happen. He could have been dead ages ago, back in the fairy village, or the Silver Elf kingdom. Somehow, he managed to survive against all odds.

  Perhaps he had a higher purpose.

  The moment that thought came into his mind, he stiffened.

  What if it were true?