She was absorbed into another surreal vision as angelic power seeped back into Faolan. She could see his true form, though she did not recognize the being he had become. In her vision, Faolan had two wings just as before, but he was different now.
His left wing was all white, and his right wing was all black. His clothing remained black with red-thorned vines. His swords were consumed in holy fire, while still hooked on his belt.
Faolan’s head turned as he gazed over his left shoulder with his left eye. The color-changing iris gazed upon Aili. She felt as if it peered into the depths of her very soul.
In her vision, Faolan spoke only to her; the others could not hear his words.
“The black spring will never dry.”
Then she was ripped from the vision. Faolan was still staring at the dead demon. What she had seen was all in her mind. He had no wings; no fire bathed his swords, and he had not turned to her.
Aili shook her head in confusion. She was frightened and unsure of what happened, still unclear why she was experiencing these events when others around her seemed not to be.
“Faolan?” Aili whimpered.
Faolan turned around upon hearing her cry.
She saw that unnerving eye, and it made her skin crawl. The unusual appearance of his left eye had not faded with the vision; it was still there, black sclera and color-changing iris. She stepped back in apprehension.
“Faolan?” Aili questioned.
A change flowed through him, and his muscles relaxed. The white glow in his right eye faded, and he smiled, but his left eye remained as it was.
“Yes?” Faolan said.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, I am. Why?”
“You changed . . . when you saw that demon. You were not the Faolan I know,” Aili said in a sad voice.
“What do you mean?” He could tell he had scared her but was unclear how.
“You were very angry and became closed off, like you forgot the rest of us were here,” Aili said as she glanced back at the others.
Faolan shook his head as he thought about the last few minutes and whispered to himself, “I-I cannot remember . . . what just happened . . .”
“Why does your eye look like that, Faolan?” Aili asked.
He glanced up at her where she stood at the top of the stairs.
“What does it look like?” he wondered.
“Your left eye has the same appearance as the stranger in the cone hat who does not speak. When he gets angry, his eyes glow out of the darkness and look like that.”
“It appears the same?”
“Yes, and it frightens me.”
Faolan could see it in her face, but he really didn’t understand what had just happened or what caused her to be so scared.
“I am sorry. I will not do it again. I do not want you to fear me . . . Aili, I am still myself. I am still Faolan.” He smiled, hiding his fear of losing her.
Caedmon had been watching the encounter as well. He was just as confused as Aili, except he had not received the vision and could not understand Aili’s level of fear. His ancient mind was hard at work trying to figure out the events that had just unfolded.
“Aili,” Caedmon said. “Will you take Faolan back to his room?”
Aili hesitated a moment as her hands shook. “Yes.”
She stepped down the stairs and reached for Faolan’s hand. She pulled him into the hallway toward his room, and they left the dramatic scene behind them.
“Caedmon,” Zael’s commanding voice called from the throne.
The wolf guardian walked back into the throne room and approached the king.
“Sit.” Zael motioned to Caedmon, then waved the others to leave them.
When the others had gone, Zael spoke. “Old friend . . . our world is dying. Our survival teeters on the precipice of what comes. I fear that boy may destroy us before the coming darkness has a chance.”
Caedmon thought for a moment, sympathetic to the king’s words. “I understand your fear, Zael, but I have hope. He is strong. His power continues to grow for some unforeseen reason. I believe he could be instrumental in defeating the demons.”
Zael expressed his disagreement. “The boy is unstable. Unsound. He cannot be trusted with such power. The Shadow Guardian uniform he wears loudly bears the colors: red on black and in a pattern of thorns. Have you read the descriptions for the colors?”
“Yes, but your Majesty—”
“I will not have it, Caedmon,” Zael yelled. “The boy is a liability. The warning signs surround him. He is dangerous. He is to remain in his quarters indefinitely. I cannot have him destroying what we are working so hard to preserve.”
“What if he refuses to be confined to his room? What if he becomes irrational because of the king’s fearful attitude? What if he wishes to see Aili? Do you think a few guards could keep him in his room?” Caedmon became frustrated.
Zael knew his old friend had valid concerns. “What about the girl?”
“Aili?”
“Yes. Has she been with him since he arrived?”
“They have not left each other’s side.”
“He has remained calm in her presence, has he not?” The wise king began to lead the conversation.
“I believe so, except for a few moments ago,” Caedmon said. “Why?”
“Keep them together. Even if you must confine her as well. She must be important to him. She calms him.”
Caedmon understood what Zael meant, but he was unhappy with the king’s ruling.
“Your Majesty.” Caedmon bowed out of the room with reluctance.
The wolf guardian excused himself from the throne room without the king’s approval. He was furious at the king’s commands.
His thoughts spun. What if Faolan does not cooperate? What if he turns on the guards? What are we to do if Faolan refuses to fight when we most need him?
He is unsound, and his way of thinking cannot be predicted. To assume Faolan cannot be trusted is rash. Yes, he harmed a soldier when he arrived, but he was on his own for so long. Who knows what happened to him out there? Where he was or what he experienced. That does not mean he would knowingly kill a fellow elf, or anyone else for that matter. So far, the only thing we have seen him kill was the Initiate.
Caedmon knocked on Faolan’s door.
After a moment it opened, revealing Aili’s soft face. “Caedmon?”
“Aili . . . I must ask you and Faolan to remain in this room.”
“All right. For how long?” she asked.
“I do not know.”
“What do you mean?”
“The king has ordered you and Faolan to stay in this room. You are not to leave his side. Do you understand?”
“But . . .”
“No buts, Aili. You must stay here and make sure he does not leave. Keep him calm and happy.” Caedmon was uncomfortable with the situation. “Someone will bring you food and drink in a short time.”
Aili wanted to question the king’s motive, but instead nodded her head in agreement. She was never one for conflict and knew she could not hope to overrule the king. She gave a false smile and closed the door, turning back to Faolan, who was looking at her.
“Was that Caedmon?” Faolan asked from the bed.
“Yes, he was making sure we were all right after that awful encounter. Dinner is on its way. He wants us to relax and enjoy our time,” Aili exaggerated.
Faolan smiled. “Well, that is kind of him.”
“It is.” Aili smiled back, moving to the edge of the bed. “May I?”
Faolan nodded, unsure what she intended.
Aili reached over and removed Faolan’s cloak. She placed it on the chair in the corner. She came back and began removing his shirt. As she lifted the shirt off Faolan, she hesitated, seeing the many scars covering his body. She quietly gasped, putting a hand over her lips.
“What is wrong?” he asked.
Aili shook her head in sad wonder. “You have so many scars.�
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She remembered her first vision from many weeks ago, before their journey. Faolan was standing in front of Igtharia’s statue, with wings and no shirt. His back had been covered in scars in the vision, and she began to wonder if the hallucinations were some form of premonition.
“Did you get those in the dungeon?” she wondered.
Faolan nodded. “Most of them. This one is more recent.” He pointed to his shoulder.
“When did you get that one?” Aili asked. “Wait . . .” Aili was in shock. “Was that the wound bleeding yesterday, the one you arrived with?”
“Yes.”
“That cannot be possible. It has fully healed! Leith just looked at that last night.” She was astonished. “How is it barely a scar now?”
“Maybe you should ask your brother.” He sensed something was wrong. “He was the one tending to it. Maybe he has medicine that can make wounds heal so fast.”
Aili shook her head. “No! There is no such medicine. Not here in the elf lands. I would know.”
“Why does this matter so much?” Faolan grew concerned. “It is just a wound.”
A tear rolled down Aili’s cheek. “Because I am scared, and none of this makes sense.”
Faolan moved closer to her. “Why are you scared?”
“I fear something is going to happen to you.” Aili began to cry. “I am scared I am going to lose you.”
“No, no.” Faolan pulled her into his arms. “I am not going anywhere. Nothing is going to happen.”
Aili leaned her head on his shoulder as he started to rock her slightly.
“I have been seeing visions.”
Faolan looked down at her. “Visions?”
“Yes, and every vision involves you.”
“They do? What happens in these visions?”
Aili thought about it before answering. “Well. When they happen, you become surrounded in this white aura or glow. You do not look the same in all of them. Your appearance changes every time and in unusual ways. Do you remember the day when we were leaving Lesley? On our way to Mor?”
“Yes.”
“I had a vision that day. Do you remember what happened in the castle courtyard, near the sculpted bushes?”
Faolan nodded. “I blacked out, and when I recovered, you were crying behind me.”
“That was when I experienced my first vision,” Aili revealed to him. “You were standing in front of Igtharia’s statue. You were just staring at it, and when I neared you, the vision started. Everything about you changed. You had scars on your body and an eye with a color-changing iris. Your pants were black, and you had great white wings.”
“Wings?” Faolan shot a glance down at her.
“Yes, wings!”
“But I do not have wings. I am not a bird,” Faolan scoffed. “They cannot be real, Aili.”
Aili shook her head in disagreement. “But the things in my visions have started to become real. You may not have wings, but your clothes are black. The scars on your body are like what I saw in the first vision.
“Your left eye, too! It looks the exact same now as it did in one of my visions. They must mean something. The red-thorned vines that wrap around your clothes were in my second vision along with your other eye, the one that glows white from the Ikalreev magic.”
Faolan tightened his embrace, unsure of how to calm her. “Aili, I cannot tell you the meaning of the visions you have had or if there even is one. Perhaps they are nothing. These things that scare you might go away or not happen at all.”
Aili listened but remained stubborn.
“Please, do not let your mind dwell on the matter. You must relax. A lot has happened. A lot is still happening, but do not let these thoughts change you, the real you inside. Do not let fear overcome you,” Faolan said. “I am here, Aili. I have changed in some ways since the seal, but I am still myself. Still Faolan. I will always be here for you. I will always protect you. I love you, Aili.”
Tears burst from Aili as his words touched her heart. “I am afraid that I am going to lose you again, Faolan. I have this feeling something bad is going to happen.”
“Nothing bad is going to happen, Aili. I promise. I will not leave you. Nothing will keep me from you,” he assured her.
“I am just scared,” Aili sobbed.
Faolan held her tight and tried to comfort her as it seemed words would not suffice. He didn’t know what else to say, so he simply held her. He rocked her back and forth and tried to get her to calm down. He kissed her on the forehead and did his best to soothe her.
After quite some time, her sobbing slowed, and her eyes dried. Faolan laid her back on the bed and reclined next to her. She curled up against him, absorbing his presence and his warmth. She stayed there for the rest of the day and fell asleep in his arms.
Chapter 17
Fire and Brimstone
At the time when races of all creeds join to ward off the darkness and defenses are at their strongest, brimstone will foul the air and ash will rain from the sky. Every step taken by a dark one will burn the land, turning life to death. The faint sign of a looming destiny.
The Ikalreev Prophecies 23:1–4
Four tense days had come and gone since Maleuuenant’s ominous message. The soldiers on the walls anticipated an assault every moment they stood watch, and most waited in fear. In all the stories and lore in the lands, no one in Lesley had ever heard of beings such as these before. Never was there anything so dark plaguing the lands. The worst the three races had ever seen were dragons and trolls.
The first sign of the impending conflict was the strong smell of brimstone, thick and inescapable. The past few days had brought in fresh reports concerning the demons. Their numbers continued to swell: fifty thousand to seventy thousand on the first day, and by the third day, the estimation reached one hundred and fifteen thousand.
Yesterday, the scout returned with a report of two hundred thousand, but who could really tell? There were so many; the estimates could be wrong. There could be fewer, or there could be many more. A scout was sent again, but even Baskla knew it was pointless to await the results. They were already outnumbered two to one. Not impossible odds against a regular enemy, but he knew what they were up against. He only sent out the scout to see if the dark army already marched against them.
A shout came from atop the outer gate. “General, someone approaches!”
Gavina ran up the long stairs to the top of the battlements. She looked out over the wall to the farmlands below.
She shot a wary look at the nearest soldier. “Go get Baskla! Tell him to come now!”
The soldier ran down the stairs.
Gavina was left gasping the foul air. She could not believe her eyes.
A few minutes later, Baskla emerged onto the battlements next to Gavina. “What have you called me for, Gavina?”
“Look!” Gavina pointed to the middle of the road.
Baskla was shocked. “A Drey’kan!”
“What is it doing here?” Gavina whispered.
“Archers at the ready!” Baskla shouted. “Hold!”
As Baskla watched the Drey’kan, it disappeared, melted into the air. They waited and looked everywhere, silently poised for something to happen. Then a faint knocking sounded.
Gavina moved closer to the wall and peered straight down at the gateway below. There was the Drey’kan, and it was knocking on the wooden door.
“It is knocking on the gate,” Gavina said.
“What?” Baskla was confused. “Why?”
Gavina shrugged.
“Call down to it,” Baskla said. “See if it will respond.”
Gavina leaned over the wall and peered down at the aberration. “Drey’kan! Why do you knock on our gate?”
The Drey’kan looked up at the female’s face high above.
The creature spoke in Gavina’s mind. “We have come in peace. The Drey’kan mother apologizes for unleashing evil on this world. We are here to aid you in your stand against the rising
sea.”
Gavina was stunned as she turned to Baskla. “It says they have come to aid us against the demons. They come in peace.”
“This world has gone to Hell! Nothing makes sense anymore,” Baskla snapped.
“What should we do?” Gavina said.
“Follow me,” Baskla commanded.
The two generals walked down the battlement stairs. Baskla ordered two dozen men to their side. He then ordered the gate to open, though not very wide. The two dozen guards filtered through the gap in the gate doors and set up a small crescent formation on the other side. The two generals walked out the gates behind the guards. They walked toward the Drey’kan, stopping a dozen yards from their longtime adversary.
“Explain yourself, Drey’kan!” Baskla shouted.
The Drey’kan’s voice spoke within both generals’ minds. “We come in peace. We have come to aid you.”
“Why?” Baskla did not trust it. “Why would you aid us after ages of tormenting and despising us?”
The Drey’kan’s eyes smiled in recognition of their past antagonism. “The Drey’kan mother wishes to mend the first wound between our kinds.”
“I do not trust you.”
“As assumed,” the Drey’kan said. “Our quarrel is not with the three races. The Drey’kan’s anger originates with the Ikalreev. They aided you in the past. We fought against them. You were company to their problems. The Drey’kan mother no longer wishes to blight your lands, nor your people. All of us must stand against our mutual enemy, or none of us shall survive. She has seen this as truth.”
“How can I be assured you will not harm us once you enter our gates?” Baskla said. “How can I trust you truly come in peace?”
“I will kill any of my brothers who act against you or your people,” the Drey’kan’s voice reassured them. “This I vow.”
“Your brothers.” Baskla finally realized the Drey’kan had been using the plural. “How many Drey’kan are there?”
The Drey’kan tilted its head at Baskla’s inquiry and raised its arm overhead. Thousands of Drey’kan appeared out of thin air behind their leader. Baskla tried to count them all, but he could not. The Drey’kan stood at attention in block divisions, something the old general had never seen before. It made his skin crawl.
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