The Ikalreev Prophecies 4:33–35
The air grew cooler as they traveled north. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, and the leaves became disturbingly still. The creak of the old wagon wheels had persisted for hours as they moved through the eerie Zajena Forest. The wolf guardian’s heavy footsteps synced with the wagon’s creak, producing a somewhat inharmonious beat as they continued forward. The sound was just unnerving enough that it kept Leith’s eyes darting in all directions and provided him with a heightened sense of awareness. Next to Leith sat the prince, who was sharing the healer’s infectious paranoia with shifting eyes. A pair they were, letting the forest worry them so.
The remaining travelers sat in the back of the wagon. Ireli and Ehreion were conversing with Kellen and Auvelia about what they had witnessed while undergoing the trials. Aili sat close to Faolan, ensuring subtle physical contact. They listened quietly to the stories of the trials and the dangers faced while awakening the Ikalreev magic. Gavina remained ever alert and kept a keen eye on their surroundings, half listening to the lively conversation.
Faolan glanced at Aili and gave her a knowing smile as he yearned for their return to Lesley. She smiled coyly in return and leaned into him flirtatiously. They wished to keep their courtship secret until their return so as not to distract the others or themselves from the mission at hand.
After some time listening to the mages’ tales, Faolan started struggling to stay awake. He wanted to listen to the energetic conversation, and he enjoyed sitting next to the fair healer, but he found his eyelids growing heavy and was unable to resist the cascading exhaustion. The many days devoid of sleep were finally taking their toll as his body demanded payment in slumber. His mind claimed its required rest; no sound was able to keep Faolan from drifting into the realm of dreams. The guardian slipped into a deep sleep as his nightmares began, powerless to stop their disturbing onslaught.
The first thing that coalesced from Faolan’s fears was the Great-Horned dragon from Lesley as it emerged from nothingness into the dream realm. It circled him high overhead and peered down at the lone guardian. He could feel an odd sensation in the dream world, almost as if time was distorting into two paths: one where time moved at great speed and then another where time moved increasingly slowly.
Suddenly, the dragon dove toward the ground in a steep dive with its wings folded on its back, and a moment later, Faolan’s viewpoint abruptly altered as he found his spatial positioning shift in a disturbing and disorienting instant. He suddenly stood in his old home in Darnum, a small wooden structure for a humble living. He looked out a window and stared into the sky in search of the dragon. His eyes locked on to it, and the beast remained in its steep dive as it raced straight toward him. He did not move; he did not feel; he stood still and felt at peace.
The dragon slammed into the house and crushed it under its massive form, but Faolan, oddly, was looking down at himself from above, though he was not dead from the impact. His spatial positioning was shifting again while his mind struggled to keep up with the odd dream world. He wisped through the air and ceased his magical movement through the dream when he found himself standing outside his house. He looked straight ahead and saw the dragon lying on his crushed house. The dragon regained its footing and gazed at Faolan with an immense intensity. The dragon lowered its head in a bow, and its giant maw opened. Out of the dragon’s mouth stepped the Initiate with an ominously dark, seeping mist trailing behind his evil form.
He watched Maleuuenant approach him and saw the hollow eye sockets emanating a mist of light blue and green. The demon’s charred skin was marred with cracks like lava flows, and the beast had two long horns curving over its head. One was broken.
A question rose in his dreaming mind: What are you?
He felt a tap on his right shoulder, and he glanced to his right. There stood the man with the conical hat. He could only assume the man was staring at him from underneath the dark veil.
A woman’s scream cried out from the darkness enshrouding the being’s face, and an unusual sensation struck him as a visible, distorting shockwave radiated from Waremasu’s void.
A male voice followed from the emptiness, yelling, “Caedmon!”
The young guardian was confused but felt himself being drawn into the dark veil as his dream world began to darken, and Waremasu’s dark void expanded around him.
“Auvelia! Behind you!” A third shout came from the enfolding dark.
Faolan called out into his fading nightmare: “Father?”
A scream echoed through the sky like thunder.
“Aili!” he shouted into the emptiness.
The dream became foggy, and he could not tell whether he was still in his nightmare or in reality. He could feel his body become light for a moment as he seemed to fly through the air, and then he slammed into a hard surface as his eyes shot open into wakefulness. He peered upward into the bright sunlight filtering through the canopy, amplified from his emergence from sleep.
“Help! Treasach!” a female voice screamed.
Faolan was consumed by confusion; his disorientation in the immediate chaos was overwhelming. He was still reeling from the jarring impact and disturbing nightmare while his mind fought to grasp the sounds of battle around him. His eyes had trouble focusing as he wondered if he was still in the wagon or on the ground.
His hands moved to the hard surface below him, and he could feel the small grains moving between his fingers.
Dirt. What am I doing on the ground? he thought.
He rolled over onto his right side and tried to focus. His head was pounding, and he moaned from the pain. Something exploded nearby and sent a shockwave at the recovering guardian as the ground shook violently beneath him.
He endured the jostling force as he heard fragments pattering the ground and a crackling on the air.
His mind struggled to understand what he was hearing.
A howling wind rushed past his ears like a piercing gale and was so loud that he screamed in agony. For a moment afterward, he could hear nothing except for a slight ringing in his ears.
His eyes began to focus as he stared at the ground below him. He pushed off the ground and sat up on his knees. As his eyes lifted, the chaos around him became clear, and a sharp purple blade danced inches before his face, poised to strike. He felt an uncomfortable moment of déjà vu as his eyes ran up the sword’s length and saw the iridescent skin and the Drey’kan’s eerie stare gleaming down at him.
He glanced around and saw, on his left, a tree on fire with wood shards scattered around its charred trunk. To his right, the wagon had rolled over on its side, and a section of boards was viciously torn from the side and pointed upward. Beyond his aggressor stood Auvelia and Ireli, with similar blades poised against their necks. Their backs had been forced up against a large tree. The guardian was unable to locate the others, though he could hear Caedmon’s heavy breathing behind him. Faolan eyed his aggressor as a familiar fear grew within him, and he noticed the Drey’kan seemed to be searching for something.
The Drey’kan gazed down at him, and its voice boomed within his mind. “Who leads you?”
“I do,” Faolan responded without hesitation.
“I do!” Caedmon shouted at the same time.
A second Drey’kan’s voice echoed within their minds. “Silence! He was not speaking to you.”
Faolan heard a violent blow behind him and a pained grunt in response. Did they stab him? he wondered fearfully.
The Drey’kan standing before him spoke again in his mind. “You are their leader?”
“Yes,” Faolan replied. He had not forgotten the vow he had taken or the dire conversation with Caedmon. He would not forsake the others and would stand strong for them, no matter how afraid he was.
“This is Drey’kan land. Why have you come here?” the Drey’kan asked telepathically.
“We seek passage north,” he answered.
“Passage is denied,” the Drey’kan hissed at him.
“How can we reach the mountains in the north, if not through Drey’kan land?” he inquired.
The Drey’kan’s head tilted slightly. “Why do you travel to the Mountains of Hollow?”
“The Mountains of Hollow? You mean the Niyere Mountains?” the guardian questioned.
The menacing creature did not clarify and waited for Faolan’s response.
The young leader was uneasy as he now understood the nature of the one-sided conversation. “There is a seal that lies there. It is a type of doorway we wish to stop from opening.”
“The Hollow. It is known.” The Drey’kan narrowed its eyes. “You seek it?”
Faolan nodded nervously at the demanding adversary.
“How do you know the Hollow?” the Drey’kan demanded.
“I was told by Caedmon Conn, the wolf guardian standing behind me, and he was told by the Ikalreev,” he explained.
The menacing metallic eyes smiled. “The Ikalreev”—a sinister laugh echoed within Faolan’s mind—“are a race of cowards.”
“Cowards?” the guardian questioned his adversary.
“Yes, where have they gone? They are not dead,” the Drey’kan bellowed, ire in its voice.
“What? How do you know that to be true?” Faolan doubted the Drey’kan’s assertion.
The distaste in the Drey’kan’s telepathic voice was palpable. “The Drey’kan never killed them.”
Faolan shook his head in confusion. “Something else could have wiped them out.”
The daunting laugh bawled again. “Naive. What could kill the Ikalreev, if not the Drey’kan? Have you not seen their city?”
“The ruins of Althalamor?” the guardian wondered.
“Ruins!” the Drey’kan roared in his mind. “Those are not ruins! That is the pristine city of Althalamor. Unchanged. Not a stone is scathed or cracked. The gates stand, bound by Ikalreev magic. Nothing has entered Althalamor’s walls since the cowards fled.”
“Then how do you know the Ikalreev do not reside within?” Faolan inquired.
“No question remains. The wolf guardian knows.” The Drey’kan shifted its gaze to Caedmon. “They were consumed by fear.”
Faolan listened but inquired, “If they no longer reside within the ancient city’s white walls, then how does their magic persist and keep the elements from deteriorating it?”
The dark creature stared at the wolf as it answered. “Ikalreev magic does not weaken . . . unless its creator dies. It is bound by soul.” The metallic eyes narrowed at Caedmon. “Do you feel fear, old one . . . knowing your weakness has been revealed? We will find him.”
An uncomfortable silence lingered in the air before the Drey’kan’s gaze shifted back down to Faolan, and it told the guardian, “You alone hold more courage than the entire Ikalreev race.”
“You are wrong!” Caedmon shouted from behind Faolan. “The Ikalreev will come back!”
“Silence!” the second Drey’kan shouted again.
The young leader heard Caedmon collapse to the ground behind him.
“How do you know about the seal?” Faolan asked.
“We were granted visions by an unknown spirit. The visions showed the Hollow and what was to come.” For the first time, Faolan could hear hesitation in the Drey’kan’s voice. “We have been searching for a power strong enough to stop what was shown to us.”
“Searching for a power? The Drey’kan are not strong enough?”
The dark creature stared straight into his eyes and threatened ominously, “No mortal is strong enough to stop the cataclysm. The Ikalreev know.”
“Yet the Drey’kan stay?”
“The Drey’kan do not fear. We do not run. The Drey’kan mother believes there is a power strong enough to stop what is coming,” the dark creature’s telepathic voice explained.
“What power?” the guardian questioned.
“Powerful beings from another plane of existence,” the Drey’kan replied.
Faolan was confused. “What do you mean?”
“The Drey’kan have been summoning beings from other realms. Our hope was to find the powerful creatures in our visions . . . Not the destroyers, but the ones that wield honorable fury and protect those who require their aid.” The creature added, “True immortals from another dominion.”
Faolan could hear Caedmon speak under his breath. “That is why all the monstrosities have come to this world over the years. Such horrid creatures were brought here by your devious kind.”
The young leader’s mind delved deep in thought as he tried to understand. All of it was slowly connecting for him, and he was beginning to comprehend how everything was tied together. He knew the Drey’kan summoned the beast, but did they realize their own influence? Were they aware of the prophecies or the Initiate?
A sudden realization hit Faolan, and his eyes widened in shock.
“You summoned it,” he whispered.
The Drey’kan tilted its head to the side curiously.
“The Initiate. The demon your kind summoned. The Drey’kan were chasing it and trying to track it down by Mor. Your kind began this.”
“What do you speak?” the Drey’kan replied.
“The last creature the Drey’kan summoned; did it have two recurved horns, a blue-and-green mist emanating from where its eyes should be, and charred skin with glowing red cracks that change in radiance and intensity?” Faolan asked.
“Yes,” the Drey’kan verified.
“That creature is the one who will begin what you saw in your visions. It will open the Hollow and bring the cataclysm you sought to prevent,” the guardian revealed. The menacing voice went silent in Faolan’s mind as he continued. “You must let us go to the Mountains of Hollow! This is your race’s fault.”
The Drey’kan’s voice rose in the guardian’s mind. “You dare accuse us! By what knowledge do you proclaim this?”
He remembered the evil Initiate’s name. “It all connects. The creature you summoned—was its name Maleuuenant?”
The Drey’kan’s blade lowered slightly. “That is the name of the one we summoned.”
“This is it; it is happening now! What the Ikalreev feared and what your kind wished to prevent, yet caused, is coming to be,” Faolan urged.
The Drey’kan was perceptive, but the dark creature was uncertain about the knowledge that was far from its understanding. It did not trust the guardian and knew the situation could be a ploy to escape their hold. It was ever so calculating, its metallic orbs locked onto the kneeling prisoner.
“We have three Ikalreev mages, whom the Ikalreev Prophecies foretell of preventing the seals from opening. We can stop this and prevent the cataclysm from occurring,” Faolan added.
The Drey’kan shook its head and whispered in Faolan’s mind. “Naiveté will bring you low. The impending conflict is not a mortal war.”
“We must try!” Faolan shouted.
The metallic eyes dropped to the soil below. “Passage is yours. Go,” it replied reluctantly.
The Drey’kan turned away and motioned to its allies. The other dark creatures lowered their weapons, and their skin changed as they shifted out of the visible light spectrum. The mysterious creatures faded from sight, but a caution sounded from their leader for only Faolan to hear: “The Ikalreev are not omniscient or benevolent. Beware their teachings and magics. Their souls are no purer than ours.”
There were sighs of relief from everyone when the Drey’kan had finally gone. The healers began checking on the party members to find any wounds or injuries. Faolan saw Ireli fall to the ground, exhausted from using her newfound magic for the first time outside the trials, and then heard Caedmon approaching his still-kneeling form from behind.
The blue wolf stopped beside him. “I never told you the Initiate’s name.”
Faolan glanced up at the wolf.
“How did you know?” Caedmon queried.
The leader thought hard but was uncertain. “Are you sure you did not tell me before?”
Caedmon turned Faolan’s question back on him. “In fact, I have never told you the fine details of its appearance. I recollect you only hearing minor descriptions during your Shadow Guardian induction—nothing as detailed as you have described today. How did you know the beast’s appearance in such detail?”
Faolan thought for a moment and remembered the nightmares. “The creature was in my dreams. I am uncertain why or how, but I saw it clearly . . . and I knew its name, though it never told me.”
Caedmon peered down at him curiously. “How could you dream about something you have never seen?”
Faolan questioned his own knowledge and memories as he whispered, “But I have seen it . . . I remember it.”
“What?” The wolf could not quite hear the young leader’s mumbling.
“I have a memory,” the puzzled leader whispered. “Is it truly mine?”
“I cannot hear you, Faolan,” the wolf remarked. “I need you to speak up.”
“Is it my memory or someone else’s?” The young leader glanced up at the Ikalreev creation. “I have seen it, Caedmon.”
“Where?” the curious wolf questioned.
“I am uncertain.” Faolan shook his head. “It is there in my mind as a memory. I can see the creature, but I do not know why, and I do not recognize the location of my remembrance.”
The old wolf could hear the young leader’s rising fear and tried to calm him. “It does not matter. Forget the memory, Faolan; perhaps it was just from your dream, a random thought, or a simple coincidence. Mind it no more. We should be going.”
The young leader did not say anything further, but he did not believe Caedmon’s reasoning. He did not feel that it was an imaginary memory. The memory was vivid and seemingly tangible, though it was a surreal feeling as the memory’s origin was indiscernible.
Caedmon helped him to his feet. “Forget it, Faolan. You must lead them. You cannot be distracted by unusual memories of things that may or may not have occurred. We are nearing the seal, and we are pressed for time to reach it before the Initiate. You must have your wits about you and be prepared for what we may encounter as we approach the seal.”
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