Prophecy

by Gregory Cholmondeley

  Elisa concurred, “I agree with Nariana. She’s following some sort of agenda. These unicorns knew they weren’t going to be called before lunch and showed up in the afternoon. I accept that our audience is no more important than the horse who is complaining that her neighbor whinnies in her sleep. But why did we have to get up so early if we weren’t going to be called until last?”

  Stavius sighed, “Because Ops is right. Esthara is making a point by demonstrating our insignificance. She wants us to be trapped in a cage watching how the lowest unicorn needs are more important to her than us, instead of being outside playing and eating crumpets.”

  Versera chuckled and said, “Ouch. We deserved that.”

  Ops added, “Stavius is right, but there is more. She’s testing us. She has been studying how we handle the situation all day, and she will continue to press and test us when we finally meet. Esthara is a wise and crafty leader.”

  The other travelers considered Ops’ words and ceased their grumbling. Instead, they sat on the straw and studied how Esthara listened, considered, and decided her cases. They quietly argued the cases among themselves as well as whether they agreed with each decision and punishment.

  The queen was always gracious and polite and was never flustered. She carefully listened to both sides of each complaint before asking a select few questions and rendering her judgment without hesitation. She had an astounding ability to comprehend any sort of problem and effortlessly deliver a verdict. It was Elisa who pointed out that the queen’s talent was too unbelievable.

  She quietly exclaimed, “It’s all an act. Esthara knows her decision even before a case is presented!”

  The others didn’t believe her at first until Elisa began accurately predicting Esthara’s questions and decisions as soon as each case was presented. After three trials, they all saw the pattern and understood Ops’ warning of her craftiness.

  “I already know the questions she will ask and her final decision regarding our request,” sighed Elisa.

  “We all do,” agreed Versera. “This was all for nothing. She is having fun demeaning us and will send us on our way when she is done. Ajdahl was right. There is no way she is going to help us. And why are you grinning, Stavius?”

  Stavius was looking relaxed for the first time all day. He replied, “Well, I completely agree with you, Versera. We know in advance that there is no way she is going to help us. That also means that there is no way I can mess this up. I can stop worrying about selecting the right approach. We all know that there isn’t one.”

  Nariana shook her head and muttered, “You are one, screwed-up dude, Stavius. Meanwhile, we’re going to be stuck here until every last unicorn problem is resolved because every single unicorn is more important to her than us.”

  Nariana was wrong. The humans were summoned to the dais two cases later, even though another dozen stalls were populated with new arrivals. They brushed the straw off their clothes and proceeded to the presentation space before the throne.

  Queen Esthara gazed down at them, projecting feelings of peace, understanding, thoughtfulness, and caring. None of the humans were fooled this time.

  The queen cooed, “Dear Stavius, I am so pleasantly surprised to welcome you and your friends to my queendom. Please do share what has brought about your unexpected return.”

  Stavius bowed deeply before the queen, before delivering the short speech he had prepared after Elisa’s insightful observation.

  “King Ajdahl has already informed you that we come asking for your assistance in our fight against the seven families of Septumcolis. You also know that the answer to your first question of how you can help us is that we need you to form an army to march with us in our attack on the city on the first day of spring. And, you already know the answer to your second question regarding why you should help us.

  “The Septumcolans are eyeing your fertile lands and plan to invade. They have had squads of soldiers studying your defenses for years. They already have invasion plans, and those plans were accelerated after their primary farming operation was tainted by magic this fall. You must either join us in our fight against the seven families or face them alone when they attack you.”

  Queen Esthara’s royal demeanor momentarily disappeared as her eyes widened, and her nostrils flared. Every word Stavius had spoken was correct, including her intended questions and the answers she already knew. The queen had to change tactics for the first time today, and she was taken off guard.

  “Impudent boy! How dare you pretend to understand the thinking of the royal house of Esthara! You have no idea of what I am thinking nor of what I will decide!”

  Soft sounds of anxious snorting and shuffling hooves rumbled in the hall.

  “Silence!” roared the Queen, before regaining her composure and smiling at the group of humans.

  “I thought that you understood our ways better than this, young man, but I have clearly granted you too much credit.”

  A shiver went through the court again as they thought they heard their queen admit a mistake. This entire proceeding was unprecedented.

  The queen ignored the ripple of hooves and continued, “The two things I want to know are how the boy who was killed by the dragon outside my gates is standing here in front of me. And, I want to know why I should trust Sir Stavius, the Martyr of Septumcolis when King Ringheld is raising a statue of him as we speak!”

  Stavius stepped back, stunned. He had not expected her to ask those questions and was confident that neither had she. It was the first time he had heard the phrase “Sir Stavius, the Martyr of Septumcolis.” His mind raced to find an answer, but he had none, other than, “I don’t know.”

  Nariana, however, leaned over to Versera and muttered, “What is with all the statues of these two?”

  Queen Esthara answered her rhetorical questions. “It does not matter. You are here because you are a trickster and a spy. You and Ringheld concocted a plan to convince me to march my soldiers a hundred miles away and leave my queendom undefended from his invading forces. You will not trick me, though. This is the reason why you and your kind are banned from our home. Leave now and never return. Next case!”

  Stavius bowed and said, “Thank you, your highness.” This was the decision they all knew she would make, and there was nothing any of them could do to change it.

  They turned to leave, but he paused and said, “I beg your indulgence for one more minute.”

  The queen momentarily glared at him before graciously smiling. She said, “The court of Esthara is known for its generosity toward those who beg, but my decision is final.”

  Stavius quickly explained, “Oh, I know that it is, and I want to extend our appreciation for even granting us this audience. In fact, I want to present Your Majesty with a gift.”

  Esthara was surprised once more by this human, which was becoming a pattern. She was, however, curious about what this young human could possibly think would be an appropriate gift for the queen of the unicorns.

  “Very well, you may present your gift. But be quick. As you can see, there is much other, unicorn, business demanding my attention.” She emphasized the word unicorn in a manner that left no question regarding the priority of Stavius and his gift.

  Stavius said, “You generously lent my friend and me two of your ancestral horns to reenergize ourselves and rescue our companions. One of them was destroyed in our fight, but I would like to return the other to you.”

  Esthara snorted, “The queen does not lend. I either give or take. Those horns, while once precious, are devoid of power and worthless to me. Again, you should know this and not make such an offensive statement, nor make such a worthless offering.”

  Stavius replied, “I am deeply sorry for my transgression. I meant no offense to you or your ancestors. Would you please advise me on how I should properly dispose of this?”

  The boy had dropped to his knees and raised the unicorn horn above his head with both hands. Blue, green, and yellow, swirling light rippled
off the glowing horn. Its spectacular brilliance rivaled the colors of any of the horns on living unicorns in the court.

  “How is this possible?” gasped the queen. “I see my grandmother’s energy. I sense her spirit! What kind of trickery is this?”

  “There is no trickery here,” assured Stavius, whose head was still bowed. “I have mastered the ability to restore the magical energy you so graciously bequeathed to us through your grandmother’s horn. I only wish the other one had not been destroyed, so that I could return both to their rightful place with you.”

  The queen stared at the boy and the horn for an uncomfortably long time before coming to a decision. In the end, she merely said, “Out.” She spoke it in a hushed tone, which was accompanied by an urge to flee so powerful that it nearly caused a stampede.

  Esthara looked down at the humans and clarified, “Not you.” She pointed to Druvy and commanded the frightened unicorn to escort the females back to the satyr village. She stared at Stavius and added, “Court is adjourned for today. This human and I need to talk. Walk with me, Stavius.”

  Her guards quickly encircled the pair, but she insisted they leave. They nervously glanced at their captain for guidance with this unexpected instruction, but there was no doubting the queen’s intention. Whatever she had to discuss with this human was going to be shared in absolute privacy.

  ✽✽✽

  Stavius carried the horn and followed the queen. This wasn’t the reaction he had expected. His only intention had been to return the horn with the hope that they would part on good terms. He knew the queen would not assist them, but he liked Equous and, especially the satyrs. Stavius was merely hoping that she would permit them to return someday.

  The queen had other plans, however. She led him past shocked guards and disbelieving royal family members into the magnificent royal gardens. Then she came to a final, gilded gate, flanked by two, finely-attired guards. Stavius thought they would faint when she led Stavius past the entrance and ordered them to secure it from all entry.

  “This is my private pasture,” explained the queen, as she nibbled at a pear resting on a gold plate. “Please help yourself to food and drink. You are welcome to anything here.”

  “Um, thank you, but where shall I put this, Your Majesty?” asked Stavius as he held out the horn. He felt awkward carrying it, ever since the queen’s unexpected reaction.

  She casually replied, “Just set it in the manger over there.” Stavius noticed how her eyes followed his every move and knew there was nothing casual about her remark.

  He asked, “May I ask why you are so surprised, Your Majesty? All I did was restore the power I drained from your grandmother’s horn.”

  The queen stared at him with doe-like eyes and said, “You did far more than that, Stavius. And, forget all that formality. Call me Esth while we’re in here. This is my personal space, not that pompous court.”

  Stavius had learned to be suspicious of how he felt around unicorns, but her remark seemed sincere. In fact, it was the only time he had ever felt any sincerity from her, other than when she gifted them her ancestors’ horns.

  Esthara said, “You did far more than reenergize a dead piece of keratin and bone. You have restored my grandmother’s spirit.”

  She stared at the glowing horn in the manger for several long minutes before continuing.

  “Our souls and energy are passed into our horns when we die. The horns detach from our dead bodies, and we place them in special, private burial vaults. We can feel their spirits and even communicate with them for a while; however, that fades over time. We pity our stallions and the other less-evolved creatures of this world, who cannot do this. I cannot comprehend how difficult it must be not to be able to talk with loved ones after they pass.

  “Our ability to communicate with the dead diminishes over time, as their energy drains. Eventually, all that remains is a vague sense of our ancestor’s spirit, which stirs old memories. Still, I find sitting among the horns of my ancestors clears my mind and helps me make the decisions required to run Equous. And it makes me feel loved.”

  Stavius wasn’t sure what to say. His stomach was lurching as he wondered if he had been carrying Esthara’s grandmother with him in his pack for the past several months. Esthara seemed to read his mind.

  She solemnly whispered, “You didn’t just reenergize an old bone. You brought my grandmother back to life. I have been speaking with her as we’ve walked, and she says that you are both powerful and trustworthy. She says that you are a true friend of Equous.”

  Stavius had just stuttered the phrase, “Thank you,” when he heard an unexpected voice reply, “No, thank you.” He looked up with a start and wondered how he had missed hearing her voice before. “Have you always been here?” he asked the disembodied voice emanating from the horn.

  “Wait! You can speak to my grandmother!?” exclaimed Esthara.

  “Of course, he can,” laughed the horn. “Stavius is The Renewer. And, yes, young man, I have been watching you ever since you bequeathed me life. My name is Eltheilia, and it is a great honor to meet you.”

  Stavius was incredulous. He was speaking to a dead unicorn, whom he had accidentally resurrected! He wanted to ask how any of this was possible but was not given a chance.

  Esthara asked, “Can you reenergize other horns as well?”

  Stavius guessed, “Um, I suppose so. I’d have to have access to a powerful magic well, though.”

  Esthara excitedly assured him that he would and knelt before him with a promise. “I pledge the assistance of my army to help you defeat the seven families and to acquire the talismans if you will restore my ancestors’ power. I am begging you to do this and promise that their wisdom and spirits will give us the means to succeed and to correct a centuries-old wrong.”

  Stavius agreed to make an attempt, and Esthara promptly led him to the subterranean crypt containing every ruler of Equous for the past three-hundred-thirty-seven years.

  Chapter 21

  Janus and Juice

  Janus and Juice silently stood in the cave entrance watching their friends fly off in the predawn darkness. Janus had been an outcast his entire life in both worlds. He didn’t feel as though he was entirely a part of this companionship, despite their recent kind words. At least Janus didn’t recall feeling like a member of a group until ten minutes ago when he started to feel lonely. Janus couldn’t remember missing anyone like this before, but there was no denying the sensation. Both he and Juice sighed deep, melancholy breaths before jumping in surprise at the voice behind them.

  “Well, are we going or not? As I understand it, we’ve got a lot of miles ahead of us,” complained Merlin, with a clap and rapid rub of his hands.

  Janus groaned and said, “Yeah, we’re going, but you aren’t. At least you aren’t going while wearing that Soul Reaper body.”

  Merlin put his hands on his hips and replied, “I most certainly am, and I am bringing this fine body with me. It’s not quite the same as being alive, but I’m through being a ghost.”

  Juice laughed and said, “I respect that, dude, but you’re right, it is a long journey and I’m not going to carry both of you. You are welcome to come along, but you have to get back in the ball.”

  ”Now, you listen to me, young lizard. That is no way to talk to your elders! I knew your great-grandmother here and your great-grandaunt on Albion. I assure you they would never tolerate such lack of respect!” ranted Merlin.

  A small cloud of dank smoke wafted out of the cave, followed by a voice stating, “You are absolutely correct, wizard. It makes me wonder if I failed my daughter or she failed hers. Fortunately, I’m here to straighten out my disrespectful great-grandson.”

  Juice whimpered, “Great-grandma! What are you doing out of your nest? You’ll catch a cold out here!”

  Phaeote glared at her great-grandson and said, “Don’t be ridiculous. This is nothing compared to what we’ll experience on our journey to the Temple of the Gods.”

&n
bsp; Juice’s jaw dropped, and he said, “Great-grandma, you can’t come with us. You’re too old.”

  Both Janus and Merlin quickly stepped back to avoid the wrath of the old dragon.

  “Do not ever be condescending to me, young dragon! I have flown single journeys farther than you have traveled in your entire life, and I can still outfly you! I am coming with you, and my dear friend Merlin may ride on my back,” roared Phaeote.

  “But, Great-grandma…” Juice began before being cut off.

  “And another thing, stop calling me Great-grandma. It just emphasizes my age. From now on, call me Granny,” insisted Phaeote. She glanced at Janus and added, “You too, young man. As far as I’m concerned, you are family too.”

  The ancient dragon descended back into the cavern and instructed, “Come along, Merlin. We need to make preparations.” Then, she added in a louder voice directed toward Juice and Janus, “We leave in one hour. Do not be late.”

  Juice stared into the cave, mumbling, “But, but, but…” until Janus nudged him and said, “We’d better get ready. I think she’s serious.”

  An hour later, the four of them were back at the cave entrance, ready to leave. Juice asked if Granny still intended to join them and was scolded with the universal parental threat, “Do not make me smack you!”

  Janus saw his 500-year-old friend drop his head and look like an intimidated schoolboy. Granny noticed her great-grandson’s drooping head and shoulders as well.

  She softly added, “Don’t worry about me, Betelgeuse. I’ll be fine. Besides, do either of you even know where you’re going?”

  Juice muttered, “I like to be called Juice, and yeah, we’re going northwest. A long way northwest.”

  Janus coughed and added, “I believe your Temple of the Gods is what we call Mount Rushmore back on Earth. My family took me there last year on vacation, and I’ve studied the maps enough to know how to find it. At least, I know how to find it back home. There aren’t many matching landmarks here. Even the rivers are different.”