Wyvern's Destiny

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  The set up makes sense. Emilia sent us to the past, but we aren't supposed to change anything. We’re here to watch and that's all. She described it as the world of dead. Now I kind of understand why she warned me to be careful. I wouldn't want to come here again.

  Jorgen looks up and his jaw tightens. The view of the castle stretches in front of us, but it seems smaller. Some of the towers must have been constructed later unless that’s all that we’re allowed to see.

  I remember the first time I arrived when I was shown to my chamber in the castle. Jorgen caught me jumping up and down on my bed like some sort of crazy person with Lenin and Jetli.

  Even then I hated him, already planning his death, convinced that he killed my parents.

  We enter through the gate, seeing guards, but even now they all remind me of those sullen, dark beings that aren't really shifters. They have no magic. I can sense their emptiness and despair. This world is upside down to the one me and Jorgen know so well, filled with only misery. The world of the dead that we left behind a long time ago.

  "Bizarre, this world makes me feel so depressed. These shifters are filled with darkness. I just can't put my finger on exactly what’s wrong with them," he says and I want to agree.

  There must be something in this moment in the past that the mirror wanted us to see and chose to bring us here—something that could help me to bring Ruscal down. He doesn't deserve to die fast, he needs to suffer in pain until justice has been served.

  Inside the castle, we notice that the floors are damaged, and there’s mould on the walls. My heart skips a beat, then races triple time when I see maids rushing through, glancing behind with fear. I remember walking through these corridors only a month ago, remembering Ruscal fighting with Emilia.

  "How long has Thayer have been working for you?" I ask Jorgen as we pass several more maids. There’s more ash on the ground and my shoes are covered with it.

  "Quick, quick shut the gates. The children have been born, and there are two of them," says the guard with strange marks on his face.

  Jorgen glances at me and then I understand. This is it, we showed up here right before the warlock witch took Ruscal away. When Jorgen and his brother were being born.

  I think about killing him when he’s still an innocent newborn child. If he’s gone from this world, then maybe I can bring my parents back. Am I capable of being that kind of monster?

  "I know what you're thinking, Astri. We both know that that can't happen. We aren’t here to alter anything. We don't have that kind of power, I mean you don't have that kind of power, because I'm still no one," Jorgen says, and I quickly shake that thought away, reminding myself that he’s right. People in the Neverworld can't see us, we’re just holograms.

  And I'm not capable of killing an innocent child, even if he does transform into a murderer years later.

  "Fine, fine, let's hurry, you just came into this world. I need to see more," I say, trying to keep an open mind.

  Now I understand why Jorgen has been hurrying—he probably wants to see his mother. He lost her when he was still a child.

  We head to the chamber upstairs, and then enter through the dark mahogany door into the main living quarters. I hear the crying babies, and see maids rushing around the crib. There’s only one female nurse washing her hands in bloody water. She must be the midwife who just delivered the babies.

  Jorgen stops at the door, looking pale and wary of what to expect. There’s a huge four-poster bed situated in the middle of the room and a female shifter laying there, holding a baby in her arms. I take a deep breath and grab his hand, bringing him closer.

  His mother is stunning and she's a true mage, even if she did just give birth to twins. I have no idea if she’s holding Ruscal or Jorgen, but I can't seem to cope with the fact that we’re allowed to relive this moment from the past.

  "You're my boy, and you will look after your brother for me," she keeps whispering, and tears start streaming down her pale cheeks. I can see that Jorgen has her features and her blue eyes.

  I glance at the child and my hands start shaking. I'm suddenly filled with unexplained rage. I know that she's holding Ruscal. I can't explain it, but my own reaction shocks me to the core. The maids are holding the other child and this whole scene is a little strange. She should be cuddling both babies, not just one.

  Then when I'm just about to ask Jorgen if he’s all right, the door opens and an older woman barges inside. Her energy is like a storm, fast and intense—it swirls inside the chamber, wrapping its claws around me. The other boy starts crying while the maids are trying to calm him down. There’s so much ash on the floor and even on the bed. It looks like small worms are crawling around the chamber, but it's just my mind playing tricks on me.

  "It's the warlock witch, the one who took Ruscal away that day," Jorgen whispers, directly into my ear.

  She's dark-haired and her skin is the colour of charcoal, her hair’s cut short close to her skin. She’s wearing a long red cloak and her eyes cause vibration inside my heart.

  "Put that baby away. He's cursed and he will bring nothing but death. Your mother asked me to keep an eye on you and now is the time to alert you about the future. I will do my best to save him," she says, approaching the bed. The guards follow her, but she waves her hand pushing them out of the room, then the doors slam shut. The maids look petrified, trying to guard the other child with their bodies. The midwife isn't reacting, she just keeps washing her hands.

  I sense her darkness and finally begin to understand that we’ve been brought into forewarned past.

  Chapter Nine

  The painful truth.

  Jorgen keeps shaking his head with disbelief, staring at the warlock witch. She takes the child away from his mother and brings the boy closer to her chest. The baby Jorgen is screaming now, and the maid doesn't seem to know how to calm him down. It's really bizarre witnessing something like that. The other human women keep muttering incoherent words towards the witch. They must realise that she's filled with magic.

  "My mother is so beautiful, the photographs in my room don't do her any justice. I can’t be here—I can't look at this. The future weighs on this moment. Maybe we should leave," Jorgen says with a heavy voice and I know exactly what he’s talking about.

  I could ask the mirror to take me back to the moment when my parents died, but then what?

  I don't think I could handle seeing them, knowing that they are truly gone forever. The warlock witch approaches the maids with the other child, then pushes them away. She looks at the screaming Jorgen, while his mother looks on petrified.

  "This one is going to turn into a brave and handsome mage, and your husband’s going to be proud," the witch says.

  "No, I don't think I can let you take him. Both boys must stay with me—"

  "Don't you understand? The calm one has the bad gene, and he will turn into a murderer. He has been cursed by Hommis himself. I have a way to fix it, but you need to give over the child …

  The witch and Jorgen's mother start to argue. Jorgen puts his hands over his ears, like he's trying to shut himself away from the scene.

  "Jorgen listen to me. This is it, this is the moment that we’ve been waiting for. She just told Alyssa that she has a way to change him. We have to follow her when she leaves with Ruscal," I tell him, excited and disturbed at the same time. I have no idea if Hans knew about the fact that the warlock witch wanted to rescue his son. He was away, and when he returned he only had one son.

  The witch herself said that Alyssa's mother asked her to look after her. I glance back at the humans, witch and Alyssa. They all have these strange marks on their faces, and I only notice them just now. The black holes that weren’t there before. Jorgen seems out of it, looking at his mother who’s sobbing uncontrollably now. She keeps reaching out for her son, begging the witch not to take him. This goes on for several long minutes and my heart’s breaking for her. I wonder what might have happened if Ruscal had stayed in the castle.
Maybe then he would’ve grow up to be like his brother, and his unhealthy obsession with the Wyvern's clan would’ve never come to fruition.

  Jorgen isn't coping well with seeing his own family being ripped apart, and I get it. He was never supposed to come here with me. Alyssa looks around with desperation, trying to get up, but the maids are telling her that she's too weak.

  Eventually the witch wraps Ruscal tightly in a shawl, staring outside the window.

  "You mustn’t tell your husband that there were two children born today. You know what you have done, and you must pay the price now. I'll take care of the boy, and he’ll be able to leave once he begins walking down the right path, then he may return to you," the witch says, and Alyssa nods, like she remembers something terrible.

  "What? What did my mother do? We need to see it, Astri," Jorgen says clenching his fists.

  "Jorgen, I'm not in control of the past. The mirror took us here, not me or Emilia," I explain, seeing the witch is leaving. She stands at the door and spreads her magic mumbling something under her breath. She’s making everyone forget that Alyssa had two children tonight. I recognise the memory spell, the golden rule that all warlocks must follow when they use magic—they make sure to use a memory spell. Obviously, straight after she left something must have gone terribly wrong, because Ruscal grew up and started murdering Wyverns anyway.

  So, the Warlock witch didn’t saved him.

  "Come on, we have to follow her. We need to see where she’s taking him," I tell the Duke, who doesn't seem to want to move.

  I think I would have lost my mind if I saw my own parents and wasn't even able to talk to them.

  He eventually follows me, but keeps glancing back at his mother who doesn't even want to look at the other child. It's sad, but there’s nothing that we can do to change that now.

  The witch rushes through the corridors with the newborn baby. Ruscal starts crying after a while, and she rocks him to sleep. The guards try to stop her, approaching from the other entrance, but she gets rid of them with a wave of her wand. They freeze on the spot, turning into ice statues and my jaw drops. I’ve never seen that kind of magic. It's pumping with darkness.

  Outside, the sun hides behind the horizon, the gloom starts shading the world, and there’s more ash everywhere. It keeps falling from the sky, and it's much thicker this time.

  "Don't worry little boy, you're going to do good. The Wyvern shifters are going to break the shadow on your soul," I hear her say when we get close enough.

  "This doesn't make any sense. How does she know that he's marked? How did she know that she was supposed to take him away," Jorgen keeps asking me, but I have no idea what to tell him.

  It looks like Hans never told him the whole truth. Maybe he knew from the start that he had two boys. Either way, we won't get any answers now. Hans is dead.

  We move through the castle grounds, as the ashy flakes continue to fall. The warlock witch keeps talking, passing the guards. No one stops her this time.

  "Something isn't right and where’s she going? I thought Ruscal was raised by this other mage who hates Wyverns," I say to Jorgen.

  "He was raised by Sergiej, a dark mage. Someone who practises dark magic. I have no idea how he ended up there."

  I heard about this story, but I never expected that the warlock witch had taken Ruscal, because she wanted to save him. She starts moving through the forest smiling, still holding a magic wand in her hand.

  She keeps glancing around, and suddenly I sense foreign energy that sends strange jolts through my stomach.

  There’s someone standing in the distance, blocking her path. It's a mage or a shifter. Right now, I can't tell, but Jorgen notices him too. He’s a largely built man, with wide shoulders and a long shaggy beard, dressed in leather, looking a lot like a huntsman.

  The witch stops, raising her wand and her eyes narrow with a gleamy red light. A shadow of fear moves across her features.

  "I knew you couldn't resist stealing the child. We both know that he belongs to my master and if you want to stay alive, you will hand him over to me," the man speaks, caressing his beard. Only now I notice that he has a long stick in his hand, carved from wood with a dragon head on the top where his fingers are tightly grasping it.

  The witch’s eyes turn green as the moon appears from behind the clouds. My palms are damp with sweat, and I touch Jorgen's hand. I don't know why but I don't want her to give the baby away. She’s obviously scared, and I know how powerful warlocks really are. The man might only be a human and she doesn't need to listen to him. Ruscal starts crying, and soon the muffled noises turn into loud screams. Jorgen's mother most likely didn’t have a chance nurse them both yet, and he must be hungry. I know that I shouldn't care, that this is only the past, but I can’t take hearing the mage child screaming like that.

  "Whoever you are, you must listen to me. I found a way to fix the bad gene, to take his darkness away, otherwise he shall never know love, hear love—he’ll live with a heart of stone. He's going to live out his days wreaking havoc, murder and mayhem. But there is a way to break his curse by taking the heart of a true Wyvern," the witch speaks out, looking like she gone into some sort of trance. Her eyes roll into the back of her head and her mouth keeps moving. The baby screams loudly, like it's in pain and as soon as I understand what she said, my head starts spinning.

  "Does she mean what I think she does? This can’t be possible. He doesn't love anyone or anything," I whisper, thinking that there must be some mistake. Now I wish that I didn't hear this.

  Jorgen remains silent, and I'm still squeezing his fingers without even realising it. I keep breathing, taking oxygen into my lungs, but it seems like it's not enough. My breathing is raspy and heavy.

  The dark-haired man laughs and starts banging his stick against the hard ground. Then the earth starts trembling and the warlock witch screams. The burning smell of coal wafts through the air. She’s clutching the baby closer to her chest, mumbling something under her breath.

  "He will never love a Wyvern. Love is weak and hopeless. The child was born to conquer the world and to stop the mayhem that all the Wyvern abominations are causing right now. Hand him over or burn in the pits of Hommis, witch," he roars.

  " Love can break the cruse, and he must fall for the last pure Wyvern in the clan—"

  She doesn't end her sentence because her face suddenly contracts in pain. She goes down on her knees placing the child on the ground. I look up seeing a shadow in the sky, circling low and something tells me that it's a dragon shifter approaching.

  I don't know what happens next, and have no idea if the man ends up taking the baby away or not, because we both hear something standing right behind us. Its long loud snarls break us away from the vision. I sense the creature’s presence and the small voice in my head tells me that this being is aware of us too. We aren't holograms anymore—we’re visible.

  "Jorgen, we need to leave. Now," I hiss, glancing at the Duke.

  I start dragging him across the forest, and we begin running as fast as we can. In the distance, we hear the screams of the baby, and more snarling. Our breathing is in rhythm and Jorgen keeps glancing behind to see if we’re being followed.

  My heart jackhammers in my chest, somehow someone must have found out that we entered this world. There isn't any other explanation.

  We jump over large tree branches, and I glance to see exactly what we’re escaping from. Terror paralyses me for a second. There’s a three-headed dragon-like creature chasing us, rasping and roaring. Adrenaline starts coursing through my veins, thinking that this must be the evil being that Emilia was telling us about. My own beast calls to be unleashed, but I can’t risk shifting right now. What if the past is disturbed because of me?

  Right now, no one apart from the people on the outside know that we’re here.

  A rippling roar shakes the ground beneath my feet, then I trip over something that feels like a tree root protruding from the forest floor and I fall. Jorgen
stops, but I scream at him.

  "Keep going. I’ll find you!"

  He hesitates for a second and then looks up, his eyes widen with fear. Seconds later, he vanishes between the trees, leaving me alone. I jump back on my feet; just as blazing fire melts the skin on my back.

  The three-headed creature rips the trees from its roots, roaring loudly. The pain is worse than expected, and I fall to the ground unable to move, forgetting about the baby Ruscal. I call out to my beast, waiting for my energy to take over as warm sensations begin slowly circulating through my body. I hear the three-headed dragon creeping towards me, and I back away towards the trees with what’s left of my energy. My back throbs with painful shocks. All three heads are different: one is larger than the other two.

  I'm badly burned, and I can barely move. My own beast stirs inside my core as I stare at the monster before of me.

  Seconds drag, maybe minutes and he continues to stalk around me, not attacking—waiting for something or maybe someone.

  If I want to live I have to use my fire magic, otherwise the beast will rip me apart. I close my eyes, trying to concentrate on the power that fuels my bloodstream, reaching down into my nervous system.

  "Astri, hold on!" I hear Jorgen yell, and when I open my eyes I see him charging the beast. He has some sort of weapon in his hand: a sword.

  He slices through the beast’s giant stomach without hesitation. The beast growls, releasing its fire. Moments later, someone hits me from behind, and the darkness slowly begins to drown me.

  Giggles, I keep hearing giggles, and when I move, my head feels heavy. I can't be dead yet, because the laugh sounds familiar. I flutter my eyelashes, trying to open my swollen eyes.

  The darkness surrounds me and for a moment I want to stay in this position just in case any of my bones are broken—I feel like I’ve been run over by a human car. My lips are dry and I need some fluid in my system. Anything to ease the thirst.