But although it was his free will, melancholy also filled his heart. There was great sadness in Adar. There was something he regretted. Now that he was a priest, and protect the land and the people, he was not allowed to go back to his homeland. At least not if he did not want to endanger his own people. For the Red would feel it when he crossed the border.
There he had had to leave something behind. Something that meant so much to him. It tore his heart apart, never to be able to see his son again.
Yes, he would probably never see Atesch again. He would not see him growing up. He would not be able to read him any more stories in the evening. He could no longer show him how to ride, how to handle a bow and arrow, or a baton stick.
A tear of regret ran down his face and dripped to the floor of the cave. He would never hold him in his arms again, his little Atesch. He would grow up, perhaps become a father himself, age and die when his life clock had expired.
The Red was not allowed to hear from him. Therefore Maioshan and he had agreed never to talk about his existence in the presence of others. Ugar, the only one here who knew they had a son, had promised them both to remain silent.
The priest, however, did not get older. Even in a thousand years, he would still look like he does today. But everyone he knew and loved would die over the next few years when their life clock ran out.
It was a lonely way because every action had a consequence.
Now he knew something else. The growling, the hissing, and the teeth whitening have always had a meaning. It was the animal, the Black in him. Only the priest was able to make peace with the Black inside the magician. The Black slept in every magician and was oppressed and held captive by the human shell. The circumstance was good because the Black was dangerous; the Black was deadly. And he was a magical being.
Adar felt the strength and power of the Black within him. He perceived his surroundings in a completely new way. All smells, noises, and also what he saw. It was different than before the ceremony. Much more intense and clear. He could even smell the wind, and this smell aroused an irrepressible desire in him.
The priest inhaled the fresh air. Something in him wanted to fly, wanted to experience freedom. He felt an enormous urge and stood at the edge of the cave.
»I am the priest, and the priest is the Black.«
A soft glow surrounded him as he transformed. Not loud, as in the very first transformation, but light and discreet. The Black appeared, spread his wings, and left the cave of Taishan.
Again and again, the Black would fly over the land and kill the Naga, would kill the creatures of the Red, and weaken the Red. The Naga, who looked like flying black snakes carrying teeth in their mouths, as long and as pointed as daggers.
Year after year, he would wait.
Again and again, he would kill them until the Ringbearer freed the land from the Red.
The land, the people … …and him!
What neither Adar nor Maioshan knew at that time, the first part of the prophecy had already been fulfilled.
The dragon had united with the magician. The Ringbearer was already alive. But still, he could not fulfill the task. He was still too young, too immature to awaken the ring. It would take years for the rings to accept him as a Ringbearer. The time would come, and the rings would awaken. The hope of the land of Emeishan was just five years old.
Imprint
Ized: The Ancestors
©2019 Esther Barvar
Cover and cover design: Jeanette Peters
Book typesetting and text design: Jeanette Peters
Visuals: adobe stock
Translation: Jeanette Peters
Editing: Anna Teres
Correction: Jenna Davis
Esther Barvar
Auguste-Prigge-Str. 24
44359 Dortmund
Germany
Ized- the Ancestors Page 31