The Prophecy (Children of the River Book 1)

by Ren Curylo

“Chocolate,” Izett said, holding up the prize Moriko had given her.

  Adamen, still in Tigmuc form, crawled up to Moriko’s shoulder so she could see better. Moriko turned and supported Adamen in her arms so they could both see the goings on.

  The newly dismounted creatures lined up, single file. They, each, in turn, took a bite of the chocolate-mint candy Izett held out for them. When the line was about halfway done, the last bite of candy disappeared. The other half of the creatures groaned in unison.

  Moriko quickly handed Izett another piece of candy. She was almost afraid they would have an uprising and swarm on her the way they had Adamen when she removed the bucket.

  When they had each had a bite of the candy, Izett finished off the last little bit and licked her furry paws.

  “Thank the lady for candy,” Izett said.

  “Thank you, lady,” all the creatures said in unison.

  “You’re welcome,” Moriko said in fascination.

  Adamen made a gurgling sound, drawing Izett’s attention. “Oh, better gets down,” she warned, waving a hand in Adamen’s direction.

  “What?” Moriko asked, perplexed.

  “You puts her down now,” Izett said.

  Before Moriko could move, she found she was holding Adamen, in her true form, in her arms and on her lap.

  Adamen was looking into Moriko’s golden brown eyes. “Oh, sorry,” she said, quickly getting off her friend.

  “I thought you said…” Moriko began.

  Izett shrugged. A buzz rose among the Tigmuc crowd standing between Izett and the train.

  “You has more candy?” Izett asked.

  “I have a bag with a couple dozen pieces,” Moriko said.

  Another buzz rose from the group.

  Izett turned to look at them and said something neither Moriko nor Adamen could understand. She turned toward her guests and said, “They trades with you, lady.”

  “For the candy?” Moriko asked. She was willing to give them the candy but she was curious about what these odd creatures would trade for.

  “Yes,” Izett said. “We trades our mushrooms for candy.”

  “Your mushrooms? You mean the ones under your buckets?”

  “Yes,” Izett said.

  “Do you need them yourselves?” Adamen asked in concern.

  “They grows back,” Izett said to her. Turning to Moriko, she nodded emphatically in anticipation of the answer and said, “Do you has empty bag?”

  “I probably do,” Moriko said. She handed Adamen the bag of candy and rummaged in her waistband pack. After a moment, she withdrew a small bowl with a lid. “I have this,” she said, holding it up for inspection.

  “That’ll do,” Izett said. “Open up and put it here.” She indicated a small, flat spot at the edge of the table.

  Moriko complied with Izett’s directive and worked the small bowl down into the sand there a tiny bit to keep it stable.

  “All right,” Izett said. She turned to the group standing alongside the track and said something in the other language.

  “That must be their own Fae language,” Adamen whispered.

  The creatures lined up again, and single file, they walked over to the bowl. When they reached it, each one lifted the bucket from its head and bowed stiffly at the waist, dumping its mushroom into the bowl. Once its load had been deposited, it replaced the bucket and went back to the train to wait.

  When the last one had made its deposit and moved away, Izett dumped her own mushroom into the bowl and moved toward Moriko with her hand outstretched.

  Moriko handed over the bag, which was far too large and heavy for Izett to carry.

  “I can put it closer to the train for you if you’d like,” Adamen offered.

  “We has big bucket over there,” Izett pointed to a place on the table at the base of the mountain. “Is a bucket car for carnival. We no uses it unless there are young Tigmuc riding. We likes flat cars. You dumps them into that bucket car.”

  “All right.” Adamen moved forward to a spot where she could reach the bucket car and dumped the candies inside. She quickly rejoined Moriko at the end of the table.

  Moriko put the lid on her bowl but didn’t pick it up.

  Izett turned to them and said, “Nice meeting yous. We mostly just eats the livers and lungs of people what finds us. I’m glad we no do that this time. Candy more tasty.”

  Moriko and Adamen exchanged shocked looks as Izett said something to her drift and they all boarded their train and began their ride once again.

  “Can we Travel out of here, now?” Adamen whispered.

  “I think that’s the best idea we’ve had all day.” Moriko took her hand to Travel them out. As they vanished, Adamen reached out and snatched the bowl of mushrooms off the table.

  283 years later

  Nonae 15, 666 Gulf of Cardosa

  Anoba Anoba’s long hair, beneath the clear blue seawater of the Gulf of Cardosa, fanned out like tendrils of dark seaweed. It flowed around her, writhing as if alive, as she swam toward her destination. She was coming from the river toward the gulf, meeting her cohorts where the salt and fresh water mingled as the river flowed into the sea.

  She surfaced and bobbed, taking in her surroundings, gauging how much farther she had to swim. Up ahead, distant enough that she couldn’t make out one from another, a half dozen of her friends awaited her arrival. She dove once again and swam with great speed toward them.

  Only a few minutes later, as she neared them, she dove deeper and turned sharply to rise in the middle of the circle they had formed. They were only briefly and mildly startled. These people were masters of their domain and nothing here could defeat them— not even individually and certainly not together.

  Anoba made seven as she joined the group. “Good afternoon, all,” she said, turning in a circle in the water to face each of them in turn.

  “Is the salt water too much for you, Anoba?” Oseyan asked. Anoba shook her head. “No, it’s just different. Though, it does burn my eyes a bit.”

  Oseyan nodded. “It does take some getting used to. We can wait a bit if you want to get some sea goggles.”

  Anoba snapped her fingers. A pair of goggles with large lenses appeared in her hand. “No need. I have some,” she said, grinning at her cousin.

  “I have goggles, too,” Torrentia said, waving them in the air. Her movements were graceful and fluid. Her hair was a dark bluegrey and always seemed perpetually wet, even when on dry land. Her skin was more blue than grey and much lighter than her hair. Her eyes, wideset and round, were storm-cloud grey. “I can’t bear the salt water in my eyes.” Torrentia was here to make it rain.

  Lorccan “And you’re sure this hurricane is necessary?” he asked. His hair, lighter shades of greens and blues in streaks, was wispy and always looked wind-blown. His blue eyes were bright and sunny and his rosy pink cheeks appeared to be perpetually chapped. They stood out boldly against the pale tones of his skin.

  “I think it’s the most detached way to get what we need,” Anoba said. “I don’t know what else to tell you to allay your doubts. We’ve all discussed The Prophecy at length on many occasions. I thought you were all believers.”

  “I am,” Torrentia said. “I’m all in.”

  Taranis nodded. “I am, too,” he said. “If Anoba says it’s right for our future, I believe her.”

  “Mostly I am,” Oseyan said, “but this seems a little drastic.”

  Anoba nodded. She could fully understand people’s skepticism. Especially when it came to life changing—even life ending—events like hurricanes, tsunamis, tornadoes and the like. “This isn’t a spur of the moment decision, Oseyan, I assure you.”

  “But Ársa isn’t aware of what we’re doing, is he?” Aled said. “I can’t imagine that Ársa would condone a deliberately conjured storm being aimed right at a populous village.” Everything about Aled held a silvery, shimmery quality, his hair, and skin particularly. His silvery blue eyes sparked with passion.

 
“No, he isn’t, but it isn’t his concern.”

  “Why not? He’s the commander,” Aled said with an argumentative tone.

  “He doesn’t believe in The Prophecy,” she admitted reluctantly.

  “Don’t you have any qualms about potentially destroying people’s lives?”

  “There are storms on Lerien all the time,” Anoba said reasonably.

  “Yes, there are, but not made by us.”

  “They are created by the planet we made, Aled, so what’s the real difference?”

  “This seems like a pointed attack.”

  “The environment here is dynamic. We made it deliberately to create storms and weather. We have crews who do nothing else but see to it that the environment does exactly that. I don’t see why you have a problem with this. What is the difference?”

  “I don’t know if there is one,” Oseyan said, “but I have never used the ocean to take aim at a group of people before.”

  “They aren’t people,” Anoba said. “They’re Elves. They are clannish and bigoted and they only want to stick to themselves. I know it’s important for the future of our world to have all these different cultures influence one another.”

  “That’s not always a good thing.”

  “We know what a bad thing it is to have nothing challenge human beings for control of a planet,” Anoba said hotly.

  “All right,” Oseyan said. “I see your point. Your aim is to separate the colony into two or more groups, then.”

  “Yes,” Anoba said. “We need them to establish themselves on a wider range in hopes of having an impact on the world around them. That in turn, can spread to other continents. This is the only place there are Elves.”

  “Why can’t we go talk to them and handle this diplomatically?” Aled asked.

  “The Elves have never been cooperative,” Anoba said. She didn’t intend to admit that she had never spoken to them about the matter. She had dreamed of this event for months. She knew it was right.

  “And what about the Dwarves? Are you going to orchestrate an earthquake and force them to distribute themselves far and wide against their own wishes?” Aled asked.

  Anoba frowned. “The Dwarves have gone underground. I haven’t been able to locate them yet. Hopefully, someday I can see them more widely distributed as well.”

  “So the only species, other than humans, who have pleased you with their establishment, are the Fae and the Elflings, I guess,” Lorccan said.

  “The Elflings are little troublemakers, out causing mischief in the world. They’ll be lucky if they don’t get annihilated by humans.” Torrentia chuckled as if the idea was pleasing.

  “Or by us, if they settle in the wrong place,” Aled said crossly. “I don’t like this plan.”

  “Consider it duly noted, Aled. Look, if you don’t want to help us, you don’t have to. But I assure you, I will take full responsibility with Ársa if worse comes to worse. Besides, I think we have enough without you if you want to bow out.”

  “Is this everyone?” Aled asked, looking around the circle at the seven of them gathered here.

  “I think Roimata is joining us,” Anoba said, listing off the officers on Ársa’s Envoy who had helped them create the weather on Lerien.

  “Mo dhia,” Oseyan whistled. “It’s an impressive crew to be sure. The only thing you’ve missed is Cansu.”

  “I didn’t see any need for flooding,” Anoba said. “We only want to divide the Elves, not drown them. Wind, rain, thunder and lightning should do that quite well.”

  “With the Chief of Storms, Roimata involved, Anoba, don’t you think it’s overkill to also have most of her crew present?”

  “She will mainly be an overseer to make sure everything is coordinated.”

  You’ve been awfully quiet, Sabina,” Anoba said, turning the last Envoy member gathered. “I didn’t know you were joining us. These lovely black clouds above us must be your doing.”

  “They are,” the woman said with a smile. “How are you Anoba?”

  “I’m well,” she said, “staying busy.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Sabina said. She tucked a strand of wet black hair behind her ear. Her skin was dark and glistening with water. She swam forward and kissed Anoba on the mouth. It was her customary greeting when they met.

  Having known Sabina for many centuries, Anoba was aware that her skin was dark and her hair was black today because the clouds above them were dark. On sunny days, Sabina had bright white hair and sunny, light skin. On those days, her body seemed somehow fluffy and soft, unlike the hard sleekness of her muscles now.

  “I’ve been hearing tales about The Prophecy, Anoba,” Sabina said, staying near enough that her body occasionally touched Anoba’s as they bobbed at the surface of the water. “We should spend some time together so you can fill me in on the details.” The words were inviting, as was the expression on her face, they were both hopeful and suggestive.

  Anoba smiled. She always enjoyed her trysts with Sabina. “For sure,” she said enthusiastically. “It’s been too long. Maybe after we’re done here if you’re not busy?”

  “I’ve got time,” Sabina said. “The clouds mostly take care of themselves these days, since the whole biosphere is functioning properly.”

  Anoba grinned. Her heart beat faster with anticipation and excitement. Looking around the group, she asked, “Has anyone heard from Roimata?”

  “Roimata isn’t coming,” Sabina said. “She said she can’t make it after all, so she sent me in her place. She thinks that together, we can do without her.”

  “No problem,” Anoba said. She found she wasn’t as disappointed as she thought she would be. Devastating the Elves was not her goal. She merely wanted to break them into more than one group. This storm was a dangerous game and lives were at stake. If she had to sacrifice a few of the Elves to keep things on track, so be it. The Prophecy is more important than any single Elf.

  “We’ve had hurricanes here before, Anoba, but we tend to let the atmospheric conditions of Lerien determine its strength and path. This is different.” Oseyan’s face wore a look of concern as if Aled’s dissension had struck a chord.

  “I didn’t know you were such a sissy, Oseyan,” Anoba said, being deliberately snide.

  Oseyan frowned. “There’s a lot of power in the water and you know those Elves are positioned close to the coast. They’re also situated between two rivers. Add to that, Taranis’ thunder, Aled’s lightning, Lorccan’s wind, and Torrentia’s rain, and you aren’t giving them much of a chance. Not to mention having me here to add to the storm surge. You control the rivers, so I don’t see how flooding is not going to happen, even without Cansu.”

  “No one can control the storm surge better than you, Oseyan. You can make sure it doesn’t get out of control, even with the others pushing the storm forward.”

  “I don’t want to be responsible for anyone dying in this,” Oseyan said.

  “What’s the difference in this and when someone drowns in the ocean? What’s the difference in this and any other storm that develops on Lerien?” Anoba glared at her cousin for a few moments.

  Oseyan said, after a brief pause, “If we’re all here and ready, let’s move forward.”

  “Let’s get this over with,” Aled said.

  Anoba shook her head and slipped the goggles on, covering her greenish black eyes. She dove and swam quickly, hoping to keep pace with her cousin. His speed gave her a clue about his fury, but she dismissed it. He’ll get over it. The Prophecy is more important than anyone’s feelings. I’ve been dreaming of this for over a year now. It must be done.

  While she tried to catch up with him and keep pace, he outswam her easily. He was already in place when she surfaced nearby where the fresh water of the river mingled with the salty gulf waters. The waters here had an odd quality that always fascinated Anoba. Underwater, it was slightly distorted, like heat waves coming off hard-packed desert ground. The fish were always a little disoriented here, as well and sh
e knew sharks were attracted to areas like this. She crested the surface and asked, “Sharks like to hang out here, don’t they, Oseyan?”

  “Normally,” he said with a shrug, “but not today. I figured we didn’t need their particular brand of help.”

  Looking around, she noticed the sky was already dark, nearly black overhead. She would have sworn it was almost dusk rather than mid-afternoon.

  The ocean waters were already showing turmoil, buffeting them about as they grouped together again, nearer the shore this time. The wind had picked up and was blowing hard enough to make communication difficult. Lorccan’s hair whipped about as his hand moved from left to right and back again in front of his face raising the wind faster with each pass.

  Sabina’s dark, ominous clouds hung in the sky above as she turned her face toward them with an expression of calm concentration.

  Torrentia began to mutter, low at first but rising to a crescendo as she went. With each escalation of incantation, her hands and arms rose higher over her head and the rain pelted harder, faster, and sharper.

  Aled moved to bob in the water beside Torrentia, adding his voice to hers, as lightning began to flash across the sky with large, menacing bolts. They were indicative of his anger as they arced from side to side, lighting up the darkening sky.

  Taranis flanked Torrentia and added his voice to the cacophony, with bone-rattling claps of thunder punctuating every flash of lighting Aled created.

  Anoba moved forward, closer to the river’s mouth and lifted the waters from their depths upward, making them swell into the wind as the rain pummeled the surface, dancing in wild abandon.

  Oseyan closed his eyes and focused on his own domain, making the ocean waters rise in angry waves, swallowing his comrades before him for a moment. A brief lull answered another wave, and as Lorccan’s wind grew in strength, the waves responded with a corresponding height.

  Sabina opened her eyes and smiled at her beautifully menacing black clouds before she raised her hands, spreading her fingers in a quick movement, releasing them fully to Lorccan’s wind, which moved them forward, toward the land.

  Torrentia’s rain followed suit, and the wind propelled the storm directly toward Lasahala Run where the Elves only settlement had been located for centuries.