Dawn of the Dreamsmith (The Raven's Tale Book 1)

by Alan Ratcliffe

  Cole found himself wondering about the lifespan of these creatures. Eagles could live for several decades, he knew from studying tomes within the Crag’s library. But generally the bigger the animal, the longer they lived. “How old is she?”

  There was a long pause, and he wondered whether the creature had heard him. He was about the repeat the question, when his guide suddenly croaked, “She remember dawn of world, boy-man. Very old.”

  Raven had evidently overheard this exchange. “How is that possible?” she asked. “That’s tens of thousands of years. I know of nothing that can live for so long.”

  The creature turned to regard her with dark eyes. “Know everything, do you?” It was hard to tell with its rasping voice, but Cole was certain he detected a tone of sarcasm in its words. “You ask her, see for self.”

  It turned away and began moving towards the end of the ravine again. Cole glanced at Raven. She was frowning at the creature’s back, and placed a hand on the hilt of a sword. To Cole’s mind, the fact Raven had been allowed to keep her weapons at all was another sign that they weren’t being kept as prisoners. He shook his head. Raven’s eyes rolled, yet nevertheless her hand fell away and they hurried after the creature.

  Eventually, they reached the end of the ravine. The rock walls on either side came together in a wide circle, at the base of which was a large pool of water. Just like the lake they had crossed in the Ice Fens, its surface was utterly still, reflecting the clear blue sky above almost perfectly. Their guide stopped near its edge, ignoring them. Cole sensed movement in the walls and spires above them, and looking up he could see hundreds of avian faces peering out from their strange burrows. The air seemed charged, as if something important was about to occur. Cole could feel the expectancy.

  Then, from one of the spires above, a larger silhouette came into view and dropped towards them. When it was perhaps a hundred feet above their heads, Cole saw that two Aevir were approaching, holding some sort of contrivance between them in their talons.

  When they landed a few moments later, Cole saw that it was a sling of some kind, fashioned from sticks and branches, the inside padded with feathers. Sitting on this makeshift mattress was the oldest living creature Cole had ever seen. Like the others of its kind it resembled a large bird, but was smaller than the rest; shrivelled with great age. It was almost completely bald, its feathers having long before dropped out to reveal grey-pink skin. Instead, it was covered with a blanket made from animal hide. A pair of pale, rheumy eyes glanced briefly in their direction, but there was no recognition or reaction there. The creature was blind, he realised. How old is she? Cole wondered. That the creature their guide had called Mother had lived for many years he did not doubt, but surely she could not be as ancient as claimed. He agreed with Raven: it seemed impossible to believe.

  A great hush settled over the ravine, as all the croaks and caws that had filled the air until then ceased. The ancient Aevir turned towards the pool, apparently sensing its presence even without sight. On shaking legs, it slowly stepped from the sling. When it reached the edge of the water, the blanket fell to the ground.

  In a flash of insight, Cole realised what was about to happen. He took a step forward, intending to stop it, but his path was quickly blocked by the two large birds that had carried the sling to the ground. Without turning towards the commotion, the ancient creature stepped into the still waters. It paused briefly, then continued, walking into the pool until the water reached its wrinkled neck. Moments later it was gone, and soon the surface of the pool was once again still, giving no outward sign of what had just occurred.

  Cole felt angry. “How could you let her do that?” he demanded. “That isn’t right. She was supposed to talk to us.”

  Glides-on-Summer-Breeze hopped closer to where he stood. “Patience, boy-man,” it croaked.

  He watched in confusion as their guide spread its wings wide and launched into the air. Its wings flapped fast, carrying it higher and higher until its silhouette was a little more than a speck in the blue sky above. Cole shaded his eyes against the sun, and gasped as the creature suddenly drew in its wings and plummeted back towards them. A few seconds later there was a splash as the creature plunged into the pool at great speed. Waves lapped at the rocky bank, and only a few bubbles remained on the water’s surface.

  “Are they all going to drown themselves?” Cole asked, bewildered by what they had just witnessed.

  “I don’t care what you say,” Raven snarled, her hand dropping once again to the hilt of her weapon. “The first bird that starts dragging us towards the water loses a beak.”

  But none of the remaining creatures so much as glanced in their direction. A hundred pairs of eyes, more even, were glued to the pool. It seemed to Cole as if the entire mountaintop was holding its breath. A few moments later, a feathered body emerged from the water and hopped, dripping, onto the bank. It regarded them silently, before ruffling its feathers to shake them dry. “Greetings again, Dreamwalker.” The harsh, croaking edge was gone from the creature’s voice.

  Cole blinked. “Glides? You sound different.”

  It was a strange sight on a bird’s face, but he was sure the creature smiled. “If I sound different, then different I must be.”

  “What just happened?” Raven demanded. “You said that Mother wished to speak to us.”

  Amusement twinkled in the creature’s eyes. “Are we not speaking now?”

  Cole rubbed his brow, in a vain attempt to ease his bafflement. “You’re Mother? But... I thought... the older one...”

  “She was Mother, now I am she.”

  Cole admitted defeat. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

  The creature chuckled. “Don’t be embarrassed, Dreamwalker. It is hard for your people to grasp. When a Mother grows old, she searches for the one who will follow her. Then, when her time has come, she enters the Pool of Ages. Everything that she was, her memories, her essence, becomes one with the water. Then her chosen enters the water and joins with this essence. When my time approaches, I will choose one to follow me, just as I was chosen. This has always been our way.”

  Raven stepped towards her. “So, are you telling us you have taken on all of that other one’s memories?”

  “Hers and all those that came before her, child,” the creature replied. “The line is unbroken for hundreds of centuries. I told you, did I not, that Mother’s eyes had seen the birth of our world? This was truth. Everything that our Mothers have ever seen is now in my mind. I can recall flying high above a land of snow as your ancestors took their first steps towards civilisation. The air was fresh and exciting, your people full of possibility.”

  “Who taught you to speak?”

  “Men.” The creature ruffled its feathers again, which Cole was starting to believe was the Aevir equivalent of a shrug. “Many men have taught us their words over the centuries; all the knowledge acquired by past Mothers has been gifted to me.”

  Cole tried to imagine what it was like, having a memory that spanned thousands of years; recalling memories that were not your own, seen through the eyes of another. “It sounds incredible,” he said finally. “What would happen if I went in the pool?”

  If they didn’t speak his language, it was quickly evident that most of the Aevir at least understood it well enough. A flurry of angry squawks and flapping of wings rained down on him from the rock walls following his suggestion. The two guard-birds bustled up once again to block his path.

  The only one who appeared unperturbed was the new Mother. “In truth I do not know, child. You are the first humans we have allowed in to this sacred place. It is possible it would have no effect, but equally possible it would make you lose your mind and cause you to jump from the mountain convinced you could fly.”

  Cole grimaced. “It sounds better not to risk it.”

  “As you wish.”

  “Wait,” said Raven, frowning. “You say that we’re the first people you’ve brought here. Why us? Why now?”


  The creature’s eyes twinkled. “We have waited for you for a very long time, Dreamwalker,” it said, addressing Cole. “Many Mothers have joined with the Pool of Ages while we have watched for your arrival. Is this one your champion?”

  “My... champion?” Cole glanced at Raven.

  “Yes,” Mother went on. “Those we sent to bring you to us were unsure which of the humans that accompanied you was your champion. Were they correct?”

  Raven folded her arms. “No, I’m not Cole’s champion. I’m his... his...”

  “You fight for him, do you not? Protect him?” The creature seemed puzzled. “You guided him here, through dangerous lands. What is a champion, if it is not this?”

  Cole grinned broadly. “She’s got you there. My champion.”

  “Yes, fine.” Raven sighed heavily. “I’m his... whatever it is you say I am. You still haven’t told us why you brought us to this place.”

  “Come,” the creature said, turning towards the rock wall behind them, set into which was another cave entrance at ground level. “There is much we must show you.”

  Unlike the cave they had spent the night in, this was a narrow passage tunnelled into the rock. They followed the creature now calling itself Mother, having to duck their heads down low. The walls closed in tight on either side of them, and Cole could hear a soft susurration ahead of him; the sound of feathers scraping against the rock.

  Before they had ventured very far into the passage, it became too dark to see. Their bodies blocked most of the daylight that came through the cave opening. However, a short time after that, Cole realised that he was able to make out the faint outline of the tunnel walls. He glanced around for the source of the light, and eventually traced it to patches of blue fungus growing on the rock. They seemed to glow, casting an ethereal light across the passage.

  Cole wasn’t sure how long they followed the creature, but his feet had begun to ache by the time the passage opened out into a larger cavern. His back had started to complain as well, having spent so long hunched over, and it was with relief that he straightened as the low ceiling of the tunnel disappeared upwards. Patches of the fungus bathed the cavern in a faint blue light. Not enough to see the whole of it, but it sufficed to see the area immediately around him.

  Mother had stopped by a wall of the cavern, and as Cole approached he found his eyes drawn inexorably towards it. From the floor to as high as he was able to see in the dim light, it was covered with painted images. It seemed like a monumental work. It was also clearly very old. “What is this?” he asked.

  “It has been called many things,” the creature replied. “To some it is merely a story, a legend.”

  “A story of what?”

  “Of what was, what will be and what may never come to pass. It is the story of the Dreamwalker.”

  “You called Cole that before, outside,” Raven said. “How do you know about what he is able to do?”

  “It was foretold,” Mother said simply. “As I told you before, we have awaited his arrival for a very long time.”

  Cole gazed searchingly at the images on the wall, looking for meaning. “Who painted it?”

  “First Mother was what we call a seer. Even among our kind, it is very rare. More than two centuries have passed since our last. She was blessed with visions, that told her what the future would hold. I remember some of what she saw, but these memories are very faint. Too much time has passed to remember all.” There was sadness in the creature’s voice. “Knowing the importance of what the visions imparted to her, she began the work. The seers that followed her were blessed with other parts of the story, and in time it was completed.”

  Reverently, Cole brushed his fingertips over the wall. It was cold and dry. “What does it say?” he asked.

  Mother pointed a finger-claw towards the top of the mural. “When the green star rises, darkness will fall over the land.”

  “A star? In the sky, you mean?”

  Raven squinted at the splash of green paint at the top of the wall. “It looks like the Order’s sigil,” she said. “They wear a green star upon their breast.”

  “Many Mothers have speculated on the meaning, and watched the night sky anxiously for the sign,” the creature said. “But when the men returned to the mountain when Last-Mother was still young, and hung their banners of the green star, we saw this truth.”

  “What else does it say?” Cole asked.

  Mother’s finger-claw pointed at another part of the mural, where the shape of a human had been scrawled. A halo of green was painted around the figure’s head. “In this time of darkness, another will rise. A child of men with the power to enter the world of dreams. He will be joined by a champion, and together they will purge the evil from the land.”

  Raven leaned closer towards the wall. Near the figure that the Aevir seers seemed to believe depicted Cole was another. It seemed to be a large, broad-chested man, carrying a sword and shield. “It doesn’t look much like me,” she pointed out.

  “Sometimes the visions are not clear,” the creature replied, spreading its wings in a gesture of apology. “It is possible that the image merely represents the idea of a champion, rather than their exact appearance.”

  “And why is this Dreamwalker of yours riding a snake?” Raven pointed at a long, scaled beast of some kind that appeared beneath the feet of the first figure.

  “As our story tells it, when the shadows grow long, the walker of dreams will come to us, standing upon the serpent’s back.” The creature ruffled its feathers. “Even now, we do not fully understand the meaning of all the visions. What is funny?” it asked, as Raven started to laugh.

  “It’s just refreshing to have some of the answers for a change,” she replied. “Our people call these mountains the Dragon’s Back.”

  If Cole didn’t know better, he would have said that the creature appeared mildly irritated. “That would... make sense,” it admitted.

  “You talk about darkness a lot,” Cole said. “What does that mean?”

  “Again, the visions are not clear.” It nuzzled at a wing again with its beak before continuing. “Our story tells of the arrival of a being of great power, a creature of pure evil. The adversary. Our seers foretell a time of great suffering, a nation of slaves. But what form the being will take, we are unsure.” It pointed towards another section of the mural, where a large black cloud had been painted. A pair of green eyes stared out from this. Even in painted form they seemed alive with malevolence. “When the seers attempted to discern its face, they found only darkness.”

  “Could that be the Archon?” Cole asked Raven.

  “Archon?” the creature echoed.

  “He leads the Order,” Cole explained. “These men of the green star.”

  The avian was silent for a few moments, deep in thought. “I remember a man coming to the mountain, six full moons past, to visit the others of his kind. Even from great distance I felt the mark upon him. Curious, I flew closer and saw the green star shining in his eyes. Is he the one of which you speak?”

  “It sounds like him,” Raven confirmed. “Could he be the creature of darkness your people have seen in visions?”

  “It... is possible,” Mother conceded. “Yet I feel that it is not so. I am sorry, but I have no other answer to give you.”

  Cole took a step back and stared at the mural in its entirety. Now that Mother had explained most elements of it, he could see the shape of the story. But there were one or two images that still confused him. “How does it end?” he asked. “The story, I mean.”

  The creature gazed at him with black eyes that reflected the blue glow of the cavern. “That is not yet decided, Dreamwalker. Our seers saw different endings to the story. It has led to much debate among the Mothers that followed. Some feel that such indecision proves that it is legend, nothing more. Others believe that, when the time comes, the Dreamwalker will face a choice. One path leads to salvation, another into darkness. That he alone will have the power to decide the
fate of our world.”

  Cole felt a great weight pressing down upon his shoulders. “What choice?” he asked desperately. “How will they know what they should do?”

  “The visions do not tell us this,” the creature said sadly. “If I had counsel to give, I would offer it gladly.”

  Raven was examining at another section of the wall. “What’s this?” she asked, pointing at another dark shape.

  The creature hopped towards her and glanced up at the mural. “Again, much discussion has arisen over this. A third path, irreconcilable with the others. Perhaps the most mysterious of the three.”

  “Great, another choice,” said Cole sourly. “What does this one say?”

  “It tells us that, when the time of the choosing arrives, the blood of the black sun will bring the light.”

  “That’s it?” Cole sighed as the creature nodded in response. “Well, it’s better than nothing, I suppose.”

  “It’s more than we had when we arrived,” Raven agreed. “Though not as much as we might have hoped for. And you really believe Cole is this Dreamwalker your people have prophesied?”

  The creature blinked at her. “Do you not? In your travels, you must have had the opportunity to witness his abilities for yourself.” Raven said nothing, and the creature nodded. “Very well. I feel that you are still to be convinced, champion. For what is to come, there must be no doubt in your heart. There is one last sight I must show you. Follow.”

  They left the cavern the way they had come, once again passing through the narrow passage that lead back to the mountain pass. This time, when Cole emerged he found the sky awash with red as evening approached. He looked upwards, but no Aevir were flying around the tops of the spires now; instead, he saw a feathered figure in each one of the shallow burrows that appeared to contain their nests.

  Their footsteps echoed back off the rock walls of the ravine as they made their way in eerie silence. Compared to the bustle of activity he had seen there earlier that day, it almost seemed as though they were alone on the mountain.