The Second Prophecy (Part 1 of the Dragdani Prophecies)

by R. Alan Ferguson

  Helen, on the other hand, had a bruise on her left cheek, and her nose was bleeding.

  “Are you okay?” Peter asked her.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

  “Fine.” Peter said, still rubbing his brow; he looked across to where they had been. Sitting at the lights was the black car behind the white line. It did not have a scratch on it, as though the accident never happened. On the bonnet of the car, there sat a boy no more than sixteen or seventeen. When he saw Peter staring at him, he pushed himself away from the car and stood waiting for something.

  “COME OUT HERE AND FACE ME, DRAGO KING!” the boy shouted to Peter.

  “This guy’s some kind of head case or something,” Peter said.

  As Peter moved to open has door, Helen saw their attacker’s eyes turn purple?

  “NO!” she screamed at Peter. “YOU’RE NOT GOING OUT THERE! JUST WAIT HERE WITH ME!” she emptied the contents of her bag onto her lap as she panicked to find her phone. Within a spit second, she spied it and used the redial function. Saren’s mobile number came onto the display. As the phone rang, she kept staring over to make sure that the boy hadn’t come any closer. To her surprise, he was still waiting at the lights.

  The ringing ended. “Hello,” said Saren.

  “Saren, please listen. We’ve been attacked!” said Helen.

  “Ohmigod. Where are you?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t think. My head, it hurts.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, apart from this headache, I’m fine.”

  “And Peter?”

  “Yeah, he’s -” Helen was cut short by the pure horror that shot through her, like ice in her blood, when she turned her head and saw that Peter was gone. He had snuck out as Helen and Saren were halfway through their conversation.

  “So you’re not as much of a coward as I first thought,” said the boy with the black car.

  “Who the hell are you?” asked Peter.

  The stranger laughed. “So what I heard is true. They have lied to you.”

  “Listen, I don’t know who you are, and I don’t really care, either. But if I were you, I’d get out of here before the cops get here,” said Peter shakily. He was clearly still in shock after the crash.

  “Please, boy. The rules of this world do not apply to me,” said Ulicoth arrogantly.

  “Who are you?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me,” said the boy King.

  “Very well. The truth is, I’m not really standing in front of you, for this isn’t my true body. This is merely a shell, constructed so that I wouldn’t have to expose myself to you.”

  “Well, that’s good, cause I don’t really want you exposing yourself to me either,” said Peter with a smile, as he was trying to conceal his fear in case this was really some nut job, as all the evidence was beginning to point in that direction

  “You mock me,” said Ulicoth, a hint of anger starting in his cold voice. “It’s a pity that you will never know who I really am.”

  “And what makes you think that I’ll never know? I’ll just wait around for the men in white coats to come and ask them,” this time Peter couldn’t help but laugh.

  At first Ulicoth wondered what Peter had meant by that last remark and thought perhaps he knew all and was just pretending not to. Why else would he be standing in front of me mocking me? He must know the truth, thought the Dark Wizard-Elf.

  “The reason for you not knowing is simple; soon you’ll be but ash in the wind.”

  As Helen looked out of the passenger side window, she could see Peter standing about halfway between her car and Ulicoth.

  “He’s out there with that monster! I have to help him.”

  Delsani snatched the phone from Saren’s hand.

  “Helen, listen to me. Do you still have the crystal the Grand Wizard gave you?” he asked hopefully.

  “Yes it’s here,” said Helen. “It’s on my lap.”

  “Smash it.”

  Helen grabbed it and smashed it against the steering wheel. The white light that sparkled within it surrounded Helen and Phazed her away. However, it seemed that when Helen was whisked away, the sparkling light then headed straight for Peter. Unfortunately Ulicoth had seen it, and he threw out the hands of his disposable body and the light was thrown back and vanished. The assassin’s eyes changed yet again and were glowing purple.

  Peter recognized them, though from where he could not say at first. Then it came to him; it was in a shadow that he had seen them before, the darkest shadow that he had ever seen. It was the very thing that had haunted his nightmares for as long as he could remember. He was now remembering other things, bits and pieces; however, two stood out from the others, two with long grey beards. The one who held a staff tightly in his hands drew the most attention. It seemed that he was fighting the shadow. Then in his memories, he heard the one with the staff shout a name. He saw the eyes again and knew that this was no dream. It was real.

  “I remember you,” Peter said to the assassin. “I know your name,” he said.

  “Pray tell.”

  “Ulicoth. Ulicoth is your name.”

  Ulicoth clapped his fake hands as hard as possible. “Very good memory you have, my young friend. I’m impressed.”

  Peter wasted no time; he attacked first, sending two spells and four energy balls rocketing at his enemy. But Ulicoth’s new body had been built for this in mind, and he jumped, dodged, and weaved his way past them, and a hand-to-hand fight was soon in full swing.

  Ulicoth’s reason for not showing in person was because he did not know how powerful Peter had become, so he thought that this test might prove fruitful. For if he got his way and Peter was to die, great. If Peter were to win, he would still have the advantage of knowing his strength, speed, agility and most importantly, how powerful this supposed savior really was.

  Like the first assassin that attacked Peter, the appearance of this one changed. Its hair shortened until it had all retracted into its scalp. Its legs became longer and thinner, as did its arms, body, and hands. Its fingers and thumbs also grew longer, but only by sharp bone, which sickeningly cut though the thin skin.

  As Peter watched the creature’s transformation, he hadn’t noticed that he too had changed. Now it was Ulicoth who was completely surprised by Peter’s new appearance. Peter’s hair was again mostly blonde with small streaks of it dark brown. His brown eyes changed to green and then to blue, which stretched out and covered the very whites of his eyes. The pupils of his eyes were black vertical slits, and he had claws sticking out of the tops of his fingers and thumbs and fangs in his mouth. His ears had grown pointed again, though now with three notches out of his earlobes. There were now also two long golden horns curved out at either side of his forehead. Yet the most shocking thing was the appearance of a silver and black scaled tail that was swishing to-and-fro. Then there was the pure power that he unleashed that almost knocked his enemy clean off his feet.

  Ulicoth was still avoiding spell after trying to get close enough to release has own strike. While part of Ulicoth’s soul inhibited that body, he could not use magic powerful enough to be a match for the young Draga-Wizard-Elf. That body was not intended to be used for that purpose. It could only fight as the assassin that came before. However, as before, this assassin could not be destroyed except by a curtain spell that only the creator of the body would know. That would not stop Peter from trying to kill the thing.

  Ulicoth finally got what he wanted. He worked his way past the energy balls and spells. Then he attacked with his long sharp fingers, but he was to slow. Peter dodged the swipe and jumped up to kick him in the face with his right foot. Ulicoth, who had seen him, anticipated this and was ready for it and caught the boy’s leg with ease. Before the monster could do anything, Peter’s tail whipped round and sliced deep into the right side of the assassin’s face. A second later, it was in its chest.

  Peter was released immediately. Just before he lande
d on his feet, he spun round and threw an energy ball, which hit the creature on the left side of the head. The blow blew that whole side of its head away, and the assassin flopped onto the road like a boneless fish.

  Peter also fell, for the blast of the energy ball threw him off his feet. He was lying at the back of the black sports car, and he did not care where he was as long as the thing was dead. It was then he noticed something dripping from the back of the car. It took a second or two to sink in before Peter realized that it was blood. He got to his feet and hoped he was wrong, even thought that he should leave it until the police arrived. However, he heard no sirens and saw no flashing lights. He looked to see where Helen was, but there was no sign of her.

  Peter stood wondering whether to open the boot of the car and see for himself. After a short time, his curiosity got the better of him. After all, if there is someone in there they might be hurt or worse, he told himself. So he opened the door of the back compartment as slowly as he could, still hoping that it was not what he thought it was.

  At first glance, Peter had no idea what it was, but he soon realized it had once been human, and that without a doubt it was certainly dead. It was a body for sure, or at least it would have been before Mr. Slice and Dice had gotten to it. He stepped backward, but his heel dragged and he stumbled and fell again, only this time he felt physically sick from the sight of mangled, blood drenched corpse. He rolled over and heaved most of the contents of his stomach on the road three times in a row. And as he picked himself up he saw the assassin standing, its head quickly healing.

  “What’s wrong child? Can’t you stand a little art?” laughed Ulicoth.

  “That was a person you mutilated, whoever it was, and you call it art? I thought you were mad before, now I know you’re nuts,” said Peter.

  The fight was resumed with Ulicoth moving fast as lightening and grabbing Peter and slamming his head into a lamppost and throwing him further down the road. The young future King jumped to his feet and made his way back. He did not have to go far, as Ulicoth, not wanting to waste any time, ran toward him. As Peter ran, the horrors that he had seen in the back of the black car flashed through his mind once more. No matter what else he thought of in those seconds, he couldn’t shake those terrible images.

  “What the heck is that thing?” he asked himself. “What the hell am I?”

  In truth, Peter did not know who he was more afraid of, this thing that attacked him and his mother or the thing that he himself had become. One thing was clear to him, these questions would have to wait, for he would have to get rid of whatever that thing was, or he might end up like that poor person in the boot of its car.

  “I’ll have to kill it. But how?” he asked himself. But it was too late to answer this new question; Ulicoth was upon him.

  They met halfway; Peter jumped onto the assassin, pushed his feet against its chest and quickly curled his left hand around its throat. It crashed to the ground and him with it. As he sat on top of the creature in the middle of the road, Peter held on as tightly as possible. When the creature’s head hit the ground it split open. Blue blood gushed from it, and Peter balled up his free hand into a fist and started to pummel its face over and over again.

  “DIE! DIE!” the boy yelled as the awful mental pictures of the mutilated body leaped back into his head.

  The assassin’s face, not to mention Peter’s fist, were completely covered in the thick, blue blood.

  Ulicoth did the only thing he could do and slashed his long sharp fingers across Peter’s stomach. The boy jumped back high into the air, did a flip and landed on his feet with such a force that the ground cracked with his landing. He saw the mess that was the assassin trying to crawl away, and already it had begun to heal, but he was not going to give it the chance.

  “I think it’s ready for another ass-kicking,” he thought as he moved to catch it. However, the sparkling white light that had whisked Helen away had come back and brought five other people with it. Four of them wore the uniforms of the Ves-guards, and the fifth was none other than the Grand Wizard, Jaucal. Jaucal stepped to Peter and gently touched the boy’s shoulder from behind in a bid to stop him. In pure reflex, Peter, who had no idea who or what had grabbed, took hold of the Grand Wizard’s hand and twisted his wrist.

  “Please, you wouldn’t hurt an old man would you?”

  “That depends. Are you an old man, or are you and your friends reinforcements for that thing over there?”

  The Ves-guards, who clearly were not ready for Peter’s retraction, lifted their wands in retaliation and complete confusion.

  Peter tightened his grip. The Grand Wizard flinched.

  “Do not point your wands at King Drago, unless you wish to be lying on the ground next to that creature. Put them away quickly,” said the old Wizard. “I assure you, we’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to help you Peter.”

  Peter loosened his grip a little at the mention of his name, but still held on tightly enough. “Who are you?”

  “Your mother, Helen, called us here to help you, King Drago,” said Jaucal.

  “King Drago,” Peter repeated to himself. He remembered that the old man had called him that before, and the assassin called him Drago, King. “But what does it mean? What does any of this mean,” he said. Peter let the Wizard go; he was not really sure why he trusted them, though he did recognize the uniforms of the Ves-guards. Peter did as the Grand Wizard asked and waited with the others while the old Wizard went to see to Ulicoth, who by now was on his feet again.

  “I told you before that you aren’t welcome here. It seems you didn’t get the message,” said the old Wizard, “I’m sure the beating the boy gave you today might knock some sense into you.”

  “I’ve had enough of you old man. Now get the hell out of my way,” said Ulicoth as he started toward Peter.

  Peter braced himself, and the Ves-guards lifted their wands, though it was Jaucal who stopped the creature with a blow to the ribs with his staff. He advanced on the assassin, hitting its arms away as its hands swung at him. He ducked as the second attack came, spun on his heels, threw up the middle of the scepter and yelled words in the Wizard language at the top of his voice.

  “DEM TUR UIEK ET CALMULGER OLERK COMLER TRU JUNTE ET UER FITECOR HAET NILO UER FITCOHL HAET GVAKLA!”

  Translated it means:

  Feel the light of Calmulger creep into the joints of your bones and slow your limbs and heart.

  At those words Ulicoth, felt the limbs of the body getting heavy as he moved, though he did his best not to show it.

  “You old fool, your pitiful light can’t penetrate this body’s skin,” he said.

  “We will see about that.” the Wizard continued to hit the creature wherever he could see an opening in its defenses until finally as the light at the top of the staff grew brighter. He held it aloft for a moment and spun it round. The creature advanced, and the Wizard brought the scepter down with his hands spread out along it. He suddenly brought the middle of the staff up to impact the assassin’s chin and shoved the illuminated end into the creature’s chest.

  The assassin stood for a second and then cried out in pain. The light could be seen shining out of its eyes and mouth as it squealed. Then it leaned forward and fell on its face.

  Jaucal used the bottom end of the staff to roll the broken body over onto its back.

  “The Druidess, Hatyue, was captured by the Ves-guards at the border to our lands; you will never create a monster like this again.”

  The creature laughed. “I will always be able to do whatever suits me. The capture of the priestess means nothing to me. Besides, if memory serves, I believe you said those words once before.”

  “Who was that in the car?” Peter asked the fallen assassin suddenly, as he joined the Grand Wizard.

  Ulicoth laughed louder still. “Some boy I modeled the creature’s appearance on.”

  “But, what was his name,” demanded Peter.

  “Ask your ex. Ask her if she st
ill thinks she loves him,” said the assassin.

  “A spell to destroy your relationship with the girl, that’s why she left you,” Jaucal said to Peter.

  Peter gave the Wizard a look of true astonishment.

  “It’s a pity that I didn’t get the chance to torture her the way I did him,” said Ulicoth.

  Peter lifted his right foot, stomped down and crushed the assassin’s head with sheer force. He continued to thump the thing with his foot until it was nothing but a pile of salt. He then looked at Jaucal and didn’t know which of the many questions that were buzzing round his head to ask first. The old Wizard saved him the trouble by saying. “I will explain all to you soon enough. All that I ask of you is that you keep an open mind. Okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Good. Now if you don’t mind we walk back to your house. I think a walk would do us both good.”

  “Fine,” repeated Peter, as though stuck in a loop with the same puzzled look on his face.

  “I would like two of you to remain here for now,” Jaucal said to the Ves-guards. “I would like to report to my deputy at the queen’s house and then send for reinforcements, for we have to be sure that no Normal has seen what has transpired here. I’m sure you know what to do if you find any witnesses.

  “And what’s that?” asked Peter sounding anxious.

  “They’ll erase any memory of it, that’s all. Nothing to worry about,” the Grand Wizard assured him.

  At first, the Ves-guards were a little reluctant to leave them, but they gave in at the end. They had to obey.

  Peter saw the clothing of two of the guards change to business suits, and the other two disappeared in smoke.

  “Remember keep an open mind,” said the Grand Wizard.

  Peter surprised him by laughing loudly. “After all that happened to me, you’re telling me to have an open mind? How could I not?”

  “Indeed,” said the Wizard, as he gave a small chuckle.

  When the two Ves-guards arrived at Weston Road, they were immediately bombarded with questions about Peter. They answered as many as they could, setting the minds of family and friends at ease by telling them that Peter was fine and on his way home. They reported to Berlanin just as the Grand Wizard had told them too and, he ordered them back to the Towers of Telian to get the reinforcements that were needed. They then Phazed back to their world.