The Second Prophecy (Part 1 of the Dragdani Prophecies)

by R. Alan Ferguson

  The people in the crowd nodded as the mayor admitted his own fault to the boy.

  Euol was fuming at this point. He thought the mayor was only trying to redeem himself in the eyes of the voters.

  “Thanks, but you didn’t need to apologize. What happened wasn’t your fault. If I had have been more careful, it mightn’t have happened in the first place,” said the young King, going a little red. Peter was always easily embarrassed when people praised him.

  One of the sheriff’s Deputies leant in close to the mayor and whispered in his ear.

  When the man stepped back, the mayor stood and stared at him. “Are you sure?” he asked him.

  “I saw with own two eyes. And not just me. Everyone who was there saw,” said the deputy keenly.

  “So I was right. You are a Wizard,” the mayor said to Euol.

  “The last time I checked, being a Wizard wasn’t a crime,” replied the innkeeper.

  “You’re right. I’ve already made that mistake, I won’t do that again, old friend,” said the man.

  “Besides, you’d be surprised how many Wizards and Witches are living in this town,” said Jaroe.

  “You! You’re a Wizard?” the mayor asked his sheriff, stunned by the very thought.

  “No, I’m not a Wizard; I’m a Warlock,” replied Jaroe.

  “I, like Euol, am a Wizard,” said Jert.

  “You too?” said the mayor.

  “And he’s not the only one,” said Jaroe’s grandmother stepping out of the crowd. The others followed her closely.

  At least half of the people of the small town were Wizards and Witches, and this new information at first startled the Normals in the town, but the sight of Peter reminded them that perhaps it wasn’t as bad as they originally thought. After all, they had lived there for a long time, and some all of their lives.

  “Well, then, this is the beginning of a new age for our town, now that we see we’re not so different. And I’m glad the truth is out in the open, for only now can we take advantage of our new position,” said the mayor.

  “What do you mean by that?” asked Peter.

  “I think that it is time that we revaluate how this town is run,” said the man. “I think in the light of what happened today, we have seen how one man can be overrun with stupid ideas of power, and I tell you now, I have never felt so ashamed. However, I do think that I can try and make up for the mistake that I’ve made by taking the power of the mayor away and giving it to a group people that decide the true way for our small town. So if you have no objection, I would like to appoint Euol as the first of this new council, and my new deputy mayor. Well, what do you think? Is it a good idea?”

  All of the people – Normals, Wizards, and Witches – shouted their approval.

  “The people have spoken,” said the mayor. “So what do you say, my friend, will you take the position? Before you give your answer, know that your pay will be equal to my own.”

  The Wizard’s mouth fell open.

  “Of course he’ll take it,” said Peter. “Well, now you’ll have the chance to change things that you don’t like in this place.”

  The innkeeper nodded. “Fine, I’ll take it, though it’s not about the money,” he stated firmly.

  “Wait,” said one of the Normal villagers, “You’re forgetting that those creatures said if we didn’t do as they said, their friends would destroy the entire town and kill everyone in it.”

  “A lie,” said Euol. “They needed to be sure that we wouldn’t stand up to them, so they told us about their imaginary friends to scare us.”

  “But how can you be sure?” said another member of the crowd.

  “They only took enough for themselves and a few others. It doesn’t take a genius to see that it was all a trick,” said the innkeeper, and nothing more was said on the matter.

  Peter and Braten headed for the stairs in the Huffy Hog. When they reached the landing, Braten took Peter’s old wand out of his pocket. “Here I’m sure you want this back now,” he said.

  “No,” said Peter, “it’s yours. I don’t need it, and somehow I think my dad wouldn’t have wanted it to sit in my chest like a useless, dried-up old stick. So you should keep it, and all I want from you is that you put it to good use.”

  “I promise,” said the young Wizard.

  They separated and went to their own rooms to pack. Braten only packed what he thought he needed.

  Peter, on the other hand, crammed all he could into his magical chest, and he was surprised to see that no matter how much he put in it, it didn’t fill up. Only when everything he owned was in did it look full.

  Braten, finishing first, went to see how Peter was coming along.

  “Travelling a little light, aren’t you,” said Peter when his friend entered his room.

  “Where did all your stuff go?” asked Braten.

  “In here,” Peter said pointing at the chest. “If you want, we can see if it’ll take your stuff, too.”

  “Sure, that’ll be great,” said Braten.

  They went back the other boy’s room and, true enough, the chest took all that they put in.

  “My dad told me about chests like that once,” said Braten. “He never had one. They were way too expensive. But I have always wanted to see one.”

  They made their way back down into the street.

  “We’re ready,” said Braten, not wanting to wait out of fear that Peter might change his mind.

  “Are you sure we can’t convince you to stay longer?” asked the mayor.

  Braten felt like his ears were about to fall off as he heard that.

  “No, we should get on our way before it gets too late,” said Peter.

  “Well, you’ll have to wait a little longer, unless you can go without food,” said Kireth.

  “Right, I forgot about food,” said Peter, feeling a little silly.

  “I think we can sort something out,” said Euol.

  The two boys went and sat at the small fountain in the middle of the square. The chest followed Peter and sat down on the flagstones at his feet.

  Peter saw the worried look on his friend’s face. “Don’t worry. We’re leaving today,” he said.

  “Yes I know,” said Braten. However, Peter could tell that their departure time was not the only thing that was bothering his friend.

  “What’s wrong?” Peter asked him.

  “Its just I don’t know what I’m going to do when we get to the city. I know I’m going to the Wizard School and all that. What if...? What if I’m not good enough to go there? What if they won’t take me?”

  “I don’t know,” said Peter. “I really don’t know how it works. Your dad thinks you’re good enough for it. So does Jert, and they would know better than me.” Suddenly Peter gave a loud laugh. “I’ll tell you what, if you don’t get into the school the first time round, we can go and see the Wizard King and ask him,” he said.

  “What are you talking about? You’re the -”

  “Don’t worry; you’ll get into the school,” said Peter. “You’ll get in, or they can stick their city were the sun doesn’t shine.”

  “No,” said Braten firmly. “If I’m going to get in, it’ll be on my own.”

  “If that’s what you really want,” said Peter, who felt a whole new level of respect for his friend.

  “That’s what I want,” said Braten, feeling all proud and also feeling silly and wondering if Peter would perhaps think him weak.

  Just then, shadows came over them. They looked up to see Euol, Jert and their wives standing before them with some canteens, bottles and two backpacks.

  “Here you go,” said the innkeeper, passing a backpack to each of them. “We’ve given you what we can spare. We’re sure that’ll be more than enough to do you on your journey. Here are a few canteens of water and a few bottles of or finest and strongest wines.”

  “Euol, you can’t give them those,” said Kireth and Huri together.

  “It’s their first trip away. Let th
em enjoy it,” said Jert.

  “Exactly what I thought, my dear friend,” said the innkeeper.

  “Very well,” said Kireth. “But don’t drink too much at once. They’re quite strong, and you’ll need your wits about you out in the open land,” she said to the teenagers, pointing at one and then the other.

  “They’re doomed,” said the farmer, and Euol laughed.

  “If anything happens to them and I find that that wine had something to do with it, you’ll be laughing on the other side of your face, Euol. You hear me?” said Kireth.

  Jert was pointing at his friend and laughing silently behind the woman’s back.

  “I don’t know what you’re laughing at. That’s nothing to what I’ll do to you, husband,” added Huri. The tone of her voice made the farmer shudder.

  Now it was Peter and Braten’s time to laugh.

  When all was handed over, they saw that of water there were six canteens between them. Of the wine there were only four, which Kireth and Huri thought were way more than enough. Their food consisted of loafs of bread baked that morning, salted meats tightly wrapped in a type of brown paper, and something that Peter thought looked like chicken, only the skin was purple and the meat was a tawny color. After they had seen what they were getting, they repacked it all back into the backpacks and set them in Peter’s wooden chest for safekeeping. That was not the last time that they opened the chest before they got to the South gates, for the people of the town had decided to reward Peter with some of the food and drink (which mostly consisted of beer, mead, and more very strong wine) that the Lores would have taken if he had not have intervened.

  Braten was saying his last goodbyes to his parents and friends; however; Peter was looking out of the open gates. He saw that there was sunlight only six or seven meters away from where he stood. A thick, grey, gloomy cloud was sitting overhead and had been since Peter had first seen the gallows, though it was starting to break up in small parts. Little yellow rays of sunlight were peaking through, and Peter was happy to see the beautiful purple sky.

  Kireth and Huri were now furious at the thought of the boys having all of that wine but said nothing, though Euol and Jert knew. And they also knew, as did their wives, that they could no longer be held accountable for anything that would happen.

  When Braten had hugged his mother and father and said his goodbyes for what seemed like the fifteenth time, Peter said his goodbyes to all. He shook hands with the mayor, Euol, Jert, the parents of the little girl, and lastly, Jaroe.

  Kireth threw her arms around him. “Make sure you look out for each other,” she said to both boys. Then it was Huri who put her bigger arms around Peter. “Take care,” she said to him while looking at Braten.

  “They’ll be fine,” said Euol. “Come on, now. It’s time they were on their way, don’t you think?”

  Both women nodded at the same time, though with tears in their eyes.

  Peter and Braten started toward the sunlight, followed closely by Peter’s magical wooden chest.

  “Why don’t we just Phaze them to Cayer- Huld?” asked Jaroe inquisitively.

  “We received an order signed by the Grand Wizard telling us to send Drago on foot with a guide,” replied the innkeeper.

  “I see,” said the Warlock. “I better get back to the mayor to give a full account of everything that’s happened.” The sheriff turned and strode off in the direction of the mayor.

  Euol stood watching the boys vanish behind the hill.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, dear, Braten is no guide,” said his wife, who had heard him talking. “In fact, he’s never been further than Trintarn Pass.”

  “Yes, I know, but they have a Bresttwarl map,” replied the Wizard.

  “A Bresttwarl map! A Bresttwarl map!” said the woman with distress in her voice. “You know that Braten can’t read that language on those maps. Drago told me that he didn’t know that language either. Wait a minute. Why didn’t Drago ask for a guide?”

  “It was probably because I told him that Braten was the best guide we had,” said the innkeeper calmly.

  “WHAT! YOU LIED TO HIM!” Kireth’s Voice rose up over every other noise.

  “Careful, people might hear you,” said Euol.

  “I don’t care about that. What I do care about is that you sent those two boys out there with just a stupid map, which neither of them can read,” said Kireth, a little lower this time. She had the feeling that people were staring at them.

  “Don’t worry. The map won’t let them go off course,” said her husband.

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s a magical map; it’ll tell them the safest route.”

  The boys walked past three-mile stones and felt fine with the distance. They soon decided to make it seven, and by then they hoped the sun wouldn’t retreat to the horizon until then. So on they went for three more miles, and as they passed the sixth stone marker, they saw that they would not make it to the seventh, for the sun was going down. They saw a clearing in the tree line of the forest to their right, which was in the shape of a small semicircle. Peter’s wooden chest set itself down against a tree at the side, and the boys plunked down in the middle of the small area and opened the chest to see what they could eat first. However, the first things they saw were the bottles of wine and canisters of water. They removed them and rummaged around to find what they wanted. They grabbed a small frying pan that Braten had packed.

  Peter saw a rock lying across the road. He held out his hand. After concentrating hard, there was a blue glow in his hand, and the same light flashed around the rock. It vanished and then reappeared beside him. He turned his hand so his palm was facing downward. The top of the rock was round, however. When Peter moved his hand down, it slowly became flat enough for the frying pan to sit on.

  “It’s a little small for this,” said Braten holding up the pan.

  “I don’t think it’ll matter,” said Peter, “as long as we make it hot enough.”

  “Allow me,” said Braten taking out his wand. He pointed it at the rock and said, “Infero.”

  They could see the stone heating up, though not enough, so he did it again and again until the rock was so hot that it turned bright red and scorched the very ground it sat on. Peter quickly set the frying pan on top.

  “Now we just have to wait until the pan heats up,” said Braten, happy with what had been accomplished.

  “But why didn’t you just heat the pan up?” asked Peter.

  “You’re forgetting we still have to decide what we’re going to fry in it. So while we’re doing that, the pan will heat up.”

  They went back to the chest, and in the end, one large piece of the salted meat was their chosen food, along with potatoes that they mashed and fried. And they didn’t forget the wine, of course. When they finished, they used a spell to clean the frying pan, plates, small cups, and utensils they brought. Then they put them all away, except for the plates. For desert they had yellow and pink skinned fruit that was so juicy that when both boys bit into them, the clear juice swiftly ran down their chins and onto the collars of their shirts. Peter was a little surprised to see that on the inside, the fruit was blue. The beautiful, succulent taste of the fruit filled his mouth and tinkered with his taste buds.

  After a few more of the same, they were full and lay on the grass with their heads resting on pillows, which were supplied by Euol and Kireth, along with the thick blankets that covered them from feet to shoulders.

  They heated the rock up over and over again to keep themselves warm for most of the night. They lay there talking about what they were going to do as soon as they reached Cayer-Huld. Not long after that their weariness won and they fell fast asleep.

  Peter woke to find daylight and immediately went to reheat the rock. Just then, there was a faint sound of drums.

  “Wake up,” he said, gently nudging his friend.

  “What… what is it?” said the other boy sleepily.

  �
��I think it sounds like drums.”

  “Drums!” said Braten, sitting up and hearing the same sound for the first time. “Where is it coming from?”

  “I have no idea. But whatever it is, it’s in there,” said Peter pointing into the forest.

  “You know what I think it is?”

  “Haven’t a baldy notion,” Peter replied.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I haven’t a clue.”

  “Okay. What was I talking about?”

  “You were telling me what you think that noise is,” said Peter.

  “Well, the last time I was here with my dad, we saw forest-Gnomes. They had a drum, but they didn’t use it then.”

  “So you’re saying that it’s Gnomes?”

  “I’m saying I think it might be Gnomes.”

  “There’s only one way to be sure.” Peter walked to the edge of the wood. “So are you coming?” he said looking back.

  “We haven’t had breakfast yet.”

  “We can have that after,” said Peter.

  “What about our stuff,” Braten asked in earnest.

  “It’ll be fine,” said the young King, though the look on his friend’s face told him he still was not convinced. “Well, what do you think we should do?”

  “We could do a spell to hide the chest.”

  Peter knew exactly what he meant; his friend loved doing whatever magic he could. “Fine. If it’ll make you feel better, go ahead and do and use magic.”

  Braten’s face lit up. It was over in a couple of seconds. The chest and the pillows and blankets were all hidden, and even they could have been convinced that they had never been there.

  “So are you ready?” asked Braten.

  “I’m waiting on you.” Peter couldn’t help but think that perhaps they were too late, as the drums had stopped. They walked into the forest, treading as carefully as they could, which for Peter was easy. Like the Elves, he was so light-footed that there was hardly a sound with his footsteps. In addition, there were no footprints at all. Peter didn’t realize this; however, Braten did, but he said nothing, for they had heard what sounded like high-pitched voices not too far off.