Prophecy Of The Guardian (Guardian Series Book 1)

by J. W. Baccaro

  At dawn, Darshun led the way, heading east.

  That morning, the Gnome Avis begged to come, especially after learning they were going in search of shiny crystals. Besides, they owed her for making them a breakfast of eggs, seeded toast, smoked turkey and some wonderfully mid-spring strawberries, cut into slices—very juicy.

  However, Olchemy thought it best if she remained behind to watch over the lair. After all, the ferret count was high in the area and she knew how often those little pests came lurking in to steal her belongings; happened every spring. Avis always needed to stand guard, sometimes choosing a new hiding place for all her precious objects. Olchemy made a good point. She obeyed, even though she knew the true reason was to keep her away from danger, but for her the real danger were those rotten ferrets and their thieving nature.

  Darshun followed his instinct or the ‘gift’ he’d discovered he possess, his ability to feel the crystal out. Seldom, did he speak along the journey, it became clear he pondered much about the conversation last night, and this calling—his so-called, destiny.

  The Nasharin teen seemed different, and they all sensed it, especially Mirabel.

  All his life, he’d been a happy-go-lucky kind of soul, adventurous, playful and talkative—some say too much. After the meeting with Olchemy he’d become another person, sad, cheerless, rarely smiling or laughing.

  They all understood why, it’s not every day one finds out the world’s salvation depends on you and that your entire ordeal in life must now change.

  Already so in-tune with nature—as Darshun was this excited his fear all the more. For the more one loves or cares about something, the more it hurts when catastrophe strikes. If Darshun failed, and all of creation fell to ruin, surely it would mean the end of his spirit, as he’d already vowed in this world or the next, forever to linger in darkness.

  Love—such a blessing, but also a curse.

  Yes, Mirabel and the others perfectly understood this, and would never forsake him because of it.

  After five days of pushing through a heavily wooded forest, they came to a large mound of rock about ten feet high, ten feet wide, and six feet long. Upon the south side there existed a large opening.

  “This is the beginning of a tunnel leading underground,” Olchemy spoke.

  “The crystal lies beneath,” Darshun confirmed it. “I am sure of it.”

  “Look at that!” Mythaen pointed to dark-green bones scattered in front of the cave’s entrance. The bones gave off strange smells causing watered eyes and burned noses.

  Mirabel picked one up and sniffed it, then tasted the bone with his tongue. “These are human remains…Killed by cave serpents.”

  “What are cave serpents?” Darshun asked, not liking the sound of that.

  “Giant ‘snakes’ with legs—six to be precise. They have dark-green skin and gloomy yellow eyes; they stand about twelve feet high and thirty feet long. They live in the darkness of caves, preying on creatures that enter their lair, eating only the flesh of their kill and spitting out the bones. The bones change color, particularly dark-green as you see here, due to the effect of the serpents’ venom. There must be at least twenty humans among these bones.”

  “...Twenty?” Mythaen gasped with a hint of fear in his tone.

  “Perhaps more.”

  “No matter,” Darshun countered. “I came for the crystal, and that’s what I’m leaving with. I fear no snake. I’m going to enter.”

  “Fools who walk into death,” a familiar, cold voice spoke from behind them.

  Stridently, they turned around and saw a man with long dark hair, dark eyes, wearing a black cloak. He stood beside a heavy thicket.

  Mythaen recognized him at once. “Nayland! It’s good to see you again. Mirabel, this is the man I told you about, the one who saved my brother and me from the Balska Lizard, and who put some of Damacoles’ students to shame!"

  Nayland said not a word to him, didn’t even pass a stare. Instead, he focused on Olchemy. “I know what you seek in that cave, Wizard.”

  Olchemy squinted. “What we seek is none of your concern.”

  “Oh, but it is.” He stepped a little closer. His voice sounded smooth and slick while a deep mystery lay within his eyes. “I've lived among the eastern woodlands all my life…it’s my home. But these last few months, many strange and unnatural things have taken place. Races among Dark alliances thought to be no more have been seen passing through, many tribesmen have been discovered slaughtered—their villages burnt down, and if you listen to those who know the woodlands best, the animals—they will tell you a great change for the worst is coming.”

  “You speak with animals?” Seth asked.

  “I do no such thing. I merely observe them to gather my conclusions.”

  “The Land of Dragons,” Mythaen reminded him. “When I first met you, you mentioned strange activity taking place there. Was this the activity?”

  “Among many.” His eyes focused back to Olchemy. “I know of the threat this world faces from the North. I know of the four crystals the dark one seeks and what he desires to do with them.”

  “Tell me,” Olchemy wondered, “who do you mean when you speak of the ‘dark one’?”

  “The Demon Lord Abaddon.”

  “So, you are aware of the prophecy.”

  “The prophecy hasn’t been forgotten by everyone. So you see, old Wizard, it is my concern.”

  “What do you want?”

  “To accompany you on your hunt for the crystals.”

  “Absolutely not!” Darshun blurted out. “For all we know this 'stranger' has been following us since our departure from Loreladia, seeking the crystals for himself. How strange it is that we run into him here?”

  “I am a tracker,” Nayland scoffed with a frown, though he kept his eyes on Olchemy as if he’d made the comment. “I picked up your trail a day ago, randomly. And with such a group roaming the wilderness, as well as the signs of the end times, it’s only evident what you’re doing. Understand…I seek no companionship. I merely wish to stop the dark forces from destroying my woodlands."

  “Maybe so,” Olchemy returned. “But like Darshun, I’ll have to decline. We know nothing about you.”

  “Then you choose to walk into a death trap?” He waved a hand toward the cave.

  “We know about the serpents.”

  “Yes, but do you know this cave consists of hundreds of them? Nasty creatures they are, sometimes lying in wait around every corner or every possible hole. Wherever their massive bodies can fit into, ready to spring out at a moment’s notice. Before you know it, your flesh is dripping onto the ground from their acidic venom. All who have ever entered, did not return, except in a pile of bones as you see, scattered before you. I, however, know a secret.” He reached into a pouch tied to his belt and pulled out a handful of black powder. “These serpents see by our body heat. Mix this powder in mud and then cover your body with the mixture. The serpents then become blind to you. I should know—I hunt them for sport.”

  “Mirabel,” Olchemy looked over at his old trusted friend. “What do you think?”

  “He may have saved our lives with the information he’s just given us. Also, we can use all the help we can get on this quest. Besides, I don’t sense the Dark in him, and it’s a blessing to find another already aware of the prophecy—and willing to help.”

  “Trust him.” Mythaen nodded. “I know he’s a good man, and for that matter an excellent fighter as well. Though Nayland, I regret to inform you, my brother Elwin died; he was killed by a Draconian.”

  Nayland said not a word. Neither did his expression change.

  To Mythaen and the rest it seemed Nayland could not pass a care, and they’d probably be right. Obviously, there would be no use in trying to fellowship with the man—the stranger. Evidently, it was as Nayland said…he wasn't here to seek companionship.

  Then Olchemy spoke to Mirabel telepathically. “Perhaps Mythaen and you are right. I also cannot sense the Dark in him
; but neither can I sense the Light. There’s something else about this individual that is puzzling me. I do not think he’s human, not full blooded anyway. I can feel it. He also knows I am a Wizard, and I suspect it’s not because of my garment and staff. Shall we still risk his aid?”

  “Dounis laymon zua faithna,” Mirabel answered aloud in the Wizard tongue, meaning, ‘I sense no threat; trust him.’

  “...then I shall trust your instincts old friend. They’ve never been wrong. Let us just be cautious. “So be it, Nayland. You may join us on this quest. Come…let us do as you say.”

  They walked to a stream nearby, and Nayland sprinkled the powder into some loose mud and swirled it around with a stick until there was enough for everyone.

  At first, Darshun seemed a little cautious, not wishing to apply any of this ‘black gunk’ until this stranger did so first. Once he did, Darshun eased up and spread it over his naked body also, as they all did.

  The mud smelled revolting and it burned a little; though if it would avoid contact with these shadow devils called serpents, then it would be well worth the irritation. In a few minutes the burning ceased, replaced by a misty coolness, like the sensation your skin feels upon jumping into a nice cold lake on a hot summer day. This day, while only spring, felt as if it were the middle of July!

  After re-donning their garments, they approached the cave.

  Olchemy held up his staff, and out of its top shot a green fire, burning like a torch, but without smoke or hardly enough energy to display heat.

  They entered, following the path leading underground, descending quite deep. The atmosphere felt cold, damp and the air stank with an unpleasant musky odor. Beyond the rock walls, they could hear echoes of water dripping and bats screeching. Obviously, more than one corridor existed in this cavern

  All of them, with possibly the exception of Nayland, wondered how soon it might be before they would pass by one of the cave serpents, hiding in the shadows, lying in wait for its prey. Or, perhaps, they’d already strolled by one—or two—or a dozen and missed them? Thank Nayland for his secret.

  In less than twenty minutes of carefully pacing along, they came upon two statues of dragons standing at about six feet tall while green fires burned within their wide roaring mouths. To the right of the dragons the path continued east, but behind the statues, a stone door stood with drawings of stars, trees, the moon and words written in an old Wizard language—older than what even Mirabel knew.

  Only Olchemy could understand the inscriptions. “I know where we are. This is the cave of the last Earth Wizard to guard the East—his name was Thorion. These dragon torches have been burning for over two thousand years, a sign the Light still holds strong among this world.”

  “The crystal lies beyond this door,” Darshun announced, opening his eyes after a quick meditation. “I am sure of it.”

  In his natural language, Olchemy read aloud the writings on the wall.

  Amazingly, the drawings came to life. For it seemed as if they were looking at the night sky through a large window. The stars and the moon shone white, the trees swayed in the wind, and the words blazed green. Then, the stone door rolled off to the side.

  The men all stood in awe. Before them, a cavern awaited and about five hundred feet away stood a stone dragon castle at least a hundred feet high with green light shining from its mouth.

  “The castle of Thorion!” Olchemy exclaimed.

  “That green light in the dragon’s mouth,” Darshun added, “Is it not—the Earth Crystal?”

  “Indeed it is.” Olchemy answered, a smile bunching at his cheeks.

  “Listen, can you hear that?” Seth asked, sidestepping a few water droplets falling his way.

  They focused their ears, and in the ceiling, they heard rushing water.

  “An underground river,” Olchemy concluded. “We’re below it. We must be careful. Many rocks within this place could be fragile. In fact, by disturbing the 'doorway' we may have already put ourselves in danger—”

  No sooner had he spoken when a great cracking noise sounded above their heads. A part of the ceiling rock split and came crashing down with water rushing out madly, covering a diameter of thirty feet. The slab of rock crumbled and they dodged the falling stones but the water struck them hard, plunging them to the ground, the sting awfully painful.

  Olchemy held up his staff, casting a spell of levitation upon a multitude of nearby boulders. Clustering together, they floated into the air against the rushing water and filled the gap the water was passing through. His eyes flashed and he spawned fire around the edge of each boulder, spreading out the liquid stone and then quickly hardening it to seal the openings. “Is everyone all right?” he asked.

  “The mud,” Darshun noted. “Most of it has washed off.”

  A shrieking hiss beyond the cavern walls pierced their ears.

  “Ouch!” Mythaen seemed panicked. “What in all creation is that?”

  “The cave serpent,” Nayland informed them. “One of them, at least.”

  “Look!” Darshun pointed at large holes in the surrounding walls. Concealed mostly in shadow, the openings were everywhere.

  “The serpent will be exiting one of them soon,” Nayland spoke, while giving a cold smile. “Arm yourselves.”

  As expected, they heard the serpent moving within the corridors. Fast and furious it sprung, and it seemed to be in all places at once or quickly circling them. Thrash-thrash the noises came.

  The entire cavern shook so malevolently—they feared it might collapse. Anxiously, they stood still holding their weapons, waiting to strike, wondering where it might exit.

  Darshun however, looked eager to see it.

  All fell quiet…too quiet. Then, it shot out of a hole closest to Seth. The serpent, hideous as could be, spat saliva at him and he held up his shield.

  The saliva splattered against it, turning the shield to ash. The serpent opened its mouth, revealing its fangs and lunged, but was suddenly struck in the eye by a wave of fire and crashed against the wall. It rapidly retreated into the hole.

  Seth looked over and saw Olchemy holding up a smoking staff. “Thank you. Dear Abidan are those things grotesque! Exactly as you described, Mirabel.”

  The creature emerged and began to circle them again, but this time the loud thrashing noises multiplied.

  “What’s going on?” Darshun asked.

  “There’s more than one,” Nayland answered, as though Darshun should have known.

  Two serpents now burst out of holes; the one with the wounded eye attacked Olchemy and Seth while the second—an even larger and more hideous serpent—attacked the others.

  The first spat saliva at Olchemy.

  The Wizard raised his staff creating an energy barrier and the saliva ricocheted back, splattering against its face; but the venom had no effect against the creature’s scaly skin and it dripped off onto the ground.

  Seth ran behind it and slashed the serpent in its side with his sword, tearing off a piece of its slimy flesh. After an ear-piercing shriek, it turned with a jerk, crashing its body against his and he flung across the cave and tumbled to the ground. Sensing an inferno of heat, the serpent cast its glare at Olchemy—who was forming a cloud of fire. Immediately, the serpent swung its tail and hit him before he could shoot, landing a direct hit against his chest.

  He crashed hard into a mound of rocks, hitting his head and fell unconscious. The fire cloud vanished. The serpent scurried over with its six legs—three on each side of its body—looking like a giant insect. It stood beside the unconscious Wizard, staring down with its creepy yellow eyes, preparing to strike him dead.

  Swift like, Seth intercepted. He leapt onto its back and climbed up behind its head, tightly clenching his legs around its body. Enraged, the serpent began crashing into the walls causing rocks to fall everywhere. With two powerful blows of the sword, Seth hacked off the head, and the oozing bloody corpse collapsed to the ground.

  The others fought the larger one
for quite some time but couldn’t yet land a fatal blow. It seemed stronger, smarter, and faster than the first and had already wounded Mythaen with a whip of its tail.

  “Father, I’m going to strike this creature down with fire,” Darshun suggested.

  “No! The sudden burst of energy could collapse this entire place. It’s unstable.”

  The serpent drew closer to them and stopped. For some reason it gazed up into the shadows of the cavern.

  “Now’s my chance,” Darshun stated as he ran toward the creature and swung at its head. It instantly turned aside, opened its mouth, bit the steel of his sword, pulling it from his hands and swallowed. “My sword!” Darshun panicked, unable to comprehend how a snake—giant or no giant—could swallow a metal sword!

  A dose of saliva came shooting at him, but Mirabel tackled Darshun out of the way and it splattered onto a mound of rocks disintegrating them. Dizzy from the fall, they struggled while getting up. The serpent stood on its hind legs; openmouthed, fangs dripping venom, and hissed horribly loud. It lunged, but at that precise moment Nayland descended from the high peaks of the cave, out of the shadows and with two powerful swings of his axe, he chopped off the serpent's head.

  Mirabel helped Darshun up; patting him down and making sure, he was all right.

  Olchemy was conscious again from Seth’s aid.

  Besides Mythaen having a slightly bruised left arm, all seemed well.

  Mirabel approached Nayland, who busily cut the fangs and venom glands out from the serpent's mouth. “Thank you for your help.”

  Nayland glanced up at him, said nothing, then cut open the belly of the serpent and pulled out Darshun’s sword, dripping with intestines.

  “This belongs to your son.” He handed it to him.

  “Darshun, catch!” Mirabel tossed it to him.

  Darshun reached out to catch the handle while the guts sprayed onto his face. “Ah, how revolting!” He gasped, feeling like he might vomit, for the sight and smell grew to be repulsive.

  “Come, let us retrieve the crystal,” Olchemy prompted.

  They found an entrance along the left side of the castle, a dark brown door with a dragon’s spike for a handle. Olchemy pushed it back with a click sound, and it flung open.