Although he did not understand the shift, Osric could sense that her emotions were genuine. He still berated himself for the uncontrolled emotions and actions that could well have brought an end to the conversation before he could find out how she knew about Kenneth’s first prophecy. The wounds that those prophetic words had caused were still too fresh and tender to be so carelessly caressed by the tongue of a stranger. Yet, he was able to relax when her laughter met with her natural smile.
“I assure you that you are safe. I am personally affected by the words of that prophecy, and I just let my emotions get the best of me without thinking.”
“You will be used to such foolishness if you are here long. But he does tend to come out of his mistakes a much wiser man. He will be fine now, until you say something else that surpasses his capacity for rational thought.” Gus shook his head at Osric’s foolish reaction.
“Oh, I laugh because I could see the resolve in your eyes,” said Serha. “First, in the surprise of my words, and second, at reining in your own emotions. I doubt I have ever witnessed a sounder lashing in all my days. You really need to go easier on yourself, but after all that nonsense, I feel it is time to move on to the reason for our arrival.” She motioned to the woman sitting beside her. “Chanda felt that interpreting that prophecy was her business, and she told the woman, whom I can only guess was named Bridgett, that she must leave you in order to save you. Though her interpretation could be seen by some as correct, my decades have taught me a bit more about interpretation than most people know.”
Osric was struck dumb by the revelation. The sorrow he felt at his memory of Bridgett leaving caused a single tear to fight its way through his struggle for a calm exterior, and rage boiled hotly in his mind. Yet the shame he had felt at his own recent folly kindled an almost sympathetic bond between him and Chanda. Her uncertain, fearful eyes intensified this new connection.
Looking into the young woman’s eyes, he knew precisely what Serha had meant when she said he had given himself a sound lashing. Chanda did not care for herself. More than her fear for her life, he could see her own mind belittling every mistake. Her former ignorance was gone, and the very remembrance of her mistake was torture.
“The prophecy is more accurately interpreted when the words are paired correctly. Though interpretation is something that is left for the mind of the recipient, this one is one of the simplest prophecies of my reckoning. ‘The High-Wizard’s heart will break or blight, casting success onto dark or light.’ Break or blight, dark or light. Break, dark. Blight, light. You see?”
“You come in here and tell us no one should interpret a prophecy, save the owner of it. Then you proceed to interpret a prophecy that has already been interpreted incorrectly? I do not see how any of this can possibly be helpful.” Gus harrumphed. To Osric’s surprise, he agreed with him, in spite of his lack of understanding the direction she was headed in with her explanation. Still, he could feel the importance of her words. He needed to know more.
“I am not going to bore you with days of explanations of why I can do what I just did or why circumstances have changed enough for me to do it. But I am sure you know from your own gift that things are not always what they appear and that the more complicated the rules are, the more difficult they are to explain. Suffice it to say that once a prophecy has been altered by outside means, the prophecy will attempt to correct itself. This is that intervention. Now, kindly let me finish my explanation before you interrupt me again or I will cuff you about the ears to teach you some manners.”
The assortment of emotions that Osric had experienced through the day had taken its toll on his mind. He had been wracked with guilt. He had struggled through melancholy, fought back rage, and felt sorrow at Chanda’s self-ridicule, and now he felt a genuine fondness for Serha because of the way she handled Gus. He nearly laughed, but numerous conflicting emotions created a dam that kept the laughter from bubbling to the surface. Gus sat back in disbelief. His face indicated that he believed her, and his ears sagged unconsciously in retreat.
“Now, though you may think that your heart has already broken, I can see the hopeful cast in your eyes. My life has taken me in many different directions, and I can see a broken heart from a mile away. That bulk of a man at the door has a broken heart; you can see it in the way he holds himself. He lives to see that nobody has to endure the pain his heart has met.”
Osric and Gus both turned to see who she was speaking about. Before their eyes met, Osric could feel the waves of emotion, and he knew the source. It was Macgowan. His steel face greeted them, emotionless, but tears fell free from his hopeless eyes. Their eyes met in a long, knowing, wordless understanding. Osric nodded. Macgowan returned the nod before Osric turned back. His own tears fell more freely when his attention was back on the See-er.
“Your heart now has an affliction or blight. Though, this young lady’s intervention uninterrupted would have caused it to break. The prophecy knew of her. But now that you know that you two must be together for light to triumph, you must find her. The blight may never heal, as wounds of this nature are difficult to predict.”
“Can you tell me how to find her?” Osric’s word stumbled clumsily out of his mouth. His saliva felt thick, and his lips would not cooperate. His speech sounded muffled to his ears, and although he knew it came out almost blubberingly, he did not care.
“Alas, that is not something that was in either of our visions. But prophecy always has a way. Trust that things will work for you to find her, and use what you know to make it happen. It will come to be.”
Osric closed his eyes and began to ponder the dilemma. They knew she was alive, and his heart ached with joy. He knew why she had left him finally. It was nothing he had done, and it was not that her desire to be together was any less than his. She had left in order to protect him. However, he had no idea how to locate her, even with all of the new magic they had learned.
She could be anywhere and he could travel to only a few locations quickly. It would be too risky in his emotional state to travel randomly anyway. He might accidentally appear inside a rock or a tree. He had to be wise about it. Wand communication was too slow; even sending out scouts would yield results too slowly. Bridgett still believed that their reuniting would cause his downfall, so she may not believe them even if they located her. Besides, with her knowledge of spoken spells she would be able to evade any of his recruits without much difficulty. He had to get someone she trusted to find her, someone she would actually talk to, someone she would believe.
His desperate need to find her brought back his memories of earlier days. It was the same desperation he had felt when they set out to confront the irua and the weasels—the same fear as when a young eagle had attacked them on the flight with Greyback. It was the same twisting of his throat around his heart as when he had lunged desperately, grabbing for the vial in the Caves of D’pareth. The feeling was familiar from his undeniable need to help the mourners outside of Stanton’s palace. He had felt these overwhelming emotions when he was desperate to save his home from the Kallegian. He had called out in his mind for help, and the dragons had answered him.
“That’s it!” Osric stood up and dashed for the door, calling in his mind. Greyback, Stargon, anyone. Please, I need your help.
The sky was slowly making its transition from day to night as he exited the barracks. Almost the moment he passed through the open door a reply forced its way into his mind. High-Wizard, I am close by. We will be there to aid you in moments.
He did not try to determine the circumstances that had brought a dragon so close after such a long time of silence, but he had a plan. He knew he would need to prove to Bridgett that the prophecy had been interpreted incorrectly. He pulled the wand from its sheath and formed a link. “Gus, bring Serha and Chanda outside. I need them to tell the dragons what they know so she will come back when she is found.” The prairie dog rolled his eyes mockingly.
“Am I an errand boy now?”
“Just get it done!” He sheathed his wand and looked up to see a dragon piercing the veil with a rider on its back. Three large bags sagged from the animal’s side as she landed. The dragon folded her tri-jointed wing to allow her passenger to climb down from the rigging that kept him in place during flight. The man scaled the bones slowly, planted his feet firmly on solid ground, and turned to greet his hosts as he sagged against his staff. Osric’s eyes widened in grateful surprise.
“Aridis. I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. Is something wrong?” Osric waved to a pair of young men who were practicing unarmed combat nearby on the grounds. “Gentleman, assist our friend with his baggage, please.” They halted their sparring and hurried over to comply. They quickly unlashed the ties that held the bags behind the dragon’s wings and lowered the heavy burdens to the ground as Aridis approached Osric. A few coins slipped from one bag and gleamed in the sunlight.
“There are many things wrong in our world, Osric. I was asked to come here with a way to help you right what you may.”
Osric furrowed his brow questioningly. He bent down and opened one of the bags, and his eyes went wide in surprise. The amount of gold and silver coins that it contained would be enough to finance his hidden community for a year at its current size. He glanced up at Aridis for an explanation.
“Where did all of this come from?” Osric’s tone displayed both relief and suspicion.
“That would be a very long story, but to put it quite simply, it came from Bridgett.”
“What?” Osric upset the bag as he stood and coins spilled out across the ground at his feet. “What do you mean it came from Bridgett? Where is she?”
“That I cannot answer precisely. We parted ways when I embarked on my flight here.”
“You were with her? You saw her and you did not contact me, knowing what you know of my heartbreak at her leaving? How could you fail to let me know where she is—that she is all right?”
“I am sorry that I allowed you to worry. I would have contacted you today had I not been sent here with the coins.” Osric gripped his head in his hands and growled in frustration, furious with Aridis yet flooded with relief that he had a source of news about Bridgett.
“How is she?” His tone was choked with concern.
“She is as well as can be expected. There is much that we should discuss, but it may be more comfortable to do so inside.”
“Fine. Come with me.” Osric lifted one heavy bag in both arms and stalked off toward the barracks. Aridis sighed, used his wand to levitate the third bag before him, and followed Osric to the door.
12 – Past Sight, New Light
“You must know where she is. There has to be a way for me to contact her?” Osric pleaded desperately.
“While I understand your frustration, it is not possible for me to inform you of her location. We truly need to speak of more pressing matters.”
Osric sat down, discouraged by the lack of information Aridis had given him in the last few moments. Bridgett was alive, but Aridis refused to help him speak to her. He needed to get the message to her, somehow, that they could be together once again. It was as though he had been placed before an unreachable stream of fresh water after searching for days, parched, and near death. He was being denied the one thing that his heart ached for—refused relief for his troubled mind.
Months had passed in his search for Bridgett. Days had piled on days until they ran together in a dizzying haze. Joys that had once brought comfort were now bringing nothing but brief moments of clarity, and relief was not achieved from any circumstance.
Pulls from gifts he did not understand dragged his consciousness through an array of thorns, leaving his mind in a constant state of aching confusion. Mysteries lined up outside his door, awaiting their turn to bring even deeper darkness to his world, and enemies searched for him, threatening to stop him from coming to the realization of what was happening to the world. Yet, each attempt to learn something of Bridgett’s whereabouts only led to more riddles.
Osric found himself leaning against the stone wall of his work room, feeling the cool, damp texture of it against his head and arm. He breathed deeply, calming himself with practiced, patient breaths. Bridgett had sent enough gold to support their efforts for the coming war. How she had known they were in need was a question for another time. For the moment, he relished the truth that she still thought of him. Knowing that Aridis would not reveal her location angered him, and it began to build slowly in the back of his mind.
“There are more grave happenings in our world that need attention than the battle for your heart. I would love to have a chance to discuss them with you, if you would bring yourself to the table.” Aridis spoke in a calming voice, though his knowing eyes held steady to Osric’s. There was no sympathy to their communications, yet there was understanding. It was the gentle prodding of a loving shepherd, rather than the scowl of a disapproving elder. The honesty held in the simple gaze anchored Osric’s mind and led him back from his wandering thoughts. He focused, preparing his voice to carry the proper inflection to persuade with reason, rather than the mixed emotions he felt.
“I understand, but first I must speak with you on an issue that has recently come to my attention.”
“What issue is that?” Aridis studied Osric’s posture and expression, nodding subtly at the young man’s self-control.
“Moments before I requested the dragons’ assistance, I learned what drove Bridgett from this place.”
“Are you certain of your source?”
"There are See-ers in the next room who can attest to the truth of what I say. If you like, I can have them brought here?" Aridis steepled his fingers beneath his chin and waited for Osric to continue. "Bridget had a prophecy interpreted for her incorrectly. That is what drove her to leave. That interpretation led her to believe that she must leave me or else I would die."
"And what indication do you have that the prophecy was interpreted falsely?"
"I've learned several things through that discovery, one of which is that most prophecies cannot be interpreted correctly by anybody but the recipient."
“That is true, but who told you this?”
“A see-er by the name of Serha.” Osric watched as Aridis’s eyes closed and his wrinkled face took on a sorrowful smile. “Do you know her?”
“Alas, our paths have never crossed until now, but they are meant to.” A glint of sadness caressed his gaze. “So, what did she say was the correct interpretation of the prophecy?”
Osric continued to pace the floor of his office, frustrated that conversations could be such a waste of time. If he only knew where Bridgett was, he would go to her and set it all right again. He halted before Aridis and spoke slowly, carefully articulating his words as he attempted to restrain his irritation.
“She said you must be sure to pair the words correctly. ‘The High-Wizard’s heart will break or blight, casting success onto dark or light. Break or blight, dark or light. Break, dark. Blight, light.’ Her argument seems logical to me.” Her words were burned into his mind, along with the knowledge that Bridgett could soon return to him. Aridis stood slowly, motioning for Osric to follow.
“Let us do what we may to salvage your heart, but then we must speak of recent events outside of your realm.” Aridis’s deep, penetrating eyes belied the age that the rest of his body showed. It was clear that he was waiting for an answer, so Osric nodded.
He trailed just behind Aridis, who led him back out of the entrance to the barracks. The late-afternoon sky greeted him, and a light breeze moved the cultivated grass beneath them as they approached the dragon. Osric kept his distance so Aridis could deliver the message without his angst confusing the messenger.
Aridis spoke with the dragon softly, a solemn tone and expression lending weight to his words. A few moments later, the dragon delivered Bridgett’s reply.
“Ashir is with Bridgett, but she says she cannot return now. Although she wants the High-Wizard to know that she loves him and
he shouldn’t worry.”
Osric overheard the exchange. He felt as though someone had plunged a knife through his chest, reliving the same pain he had experienced when he first realized that Bridgett was gone. His heart was breaking all over again.
“She cares for you deeply. I have seen that she would give anything to be with you again. Yet, she knows that her path may carry her far from your side, and you will not abandon her for it. If you must be apart for a while longer, will you love her any less?” Osric could not stop a tear from sliding down his cheek.
“Nothing could keep me from loving her.”
“Then use your pain to fuel your passion for your people. Unfortunately, I have more bad news for you.” Aridis allowed him to walk in silence as they returned to Osric’s office. Osric sat woodenly, physically numb from the emotional turmoil. Aridis told him of the deer that Bridgett had seen and how he had used his gift to learn more from the ruins.
Osric sighed heavily, wishing desperately for a day that would bring solutions rather than more questions. “Can you tell me more about the people you saw in this vision?” Aridis shook his head as he responded, his voice low enough to be contained by the walls around them from inquiring ears.
“I did not recognize any of them, but the man who screamed at the others had a strange intonation in his voice. I could not place his accent. He was quite tall, dressed in heavy black robes with long silver hair.” Osric pushed his chair back from the table with a quick shove and resumed his pacing of the floor.
“I know exactly who that describes, and I can only imagine what he might be trying to accomplish.” Osric glanced over at Aridis. “Is there anything else you remember—anything you may have left out?” Aridis tugged on his long grey beard as he scoured his memory.
“There is something more that he said. I have been pondering the implications, but perhaps you could tell better than I since you seem to know of this man.” Osric nodded, encouraging him to continue. “After he yelled about it not working because the strands were not intact, he grabbed one of the other men by the throat. He said, ‘If it didn’t even work on a deer, how can I make it work on people?’ I first thought that he was threatening the man, but perhaps there is more to it than that.”
The Well of Strands (Osric's Wand, Book Three) Page 13