by David Angelo
Then, everything stopped.
The emotions melted away, the pain dissipated, and Fin felt a sense of calm and peace. Once again Fin opened his eyes and found that he was on a cliff overlooking a magnificent green countryside. From where he sat, Fin could see small villages filled with quaint thatched cottages, smoke rising from their chimneys. Farms dotted the landscape, their pastures occupied by sheep and cows grazing on the crisp grass. A chapel sat atop a hill, the bell in its tower glistening with the reflection of the sun. Farther ahead, the horizon met the deep-blue ocean, the whitecaps of waves splashing in the surf.
“This is your land,” Blizzard said. “Edon is your home. The place I created as a gift for my children. In itself, it is perfect. But there is a sickness that has come across this land that must be cured. Right now, the Faranchies and the Cullidons are living unequal lives. They are turned against each other at the hands of a tyrannical regime. They must be brought back together, and the only way that can happen is if those in charge of driving my children apart are stopped, once and for all.
“That is where you come in, Fin. The moment you were burned was the moment the soul of the prophet came into your life. It needs your soul to live, for it cannot survive on its own. Once you accept its existence, it will bind with your soul, and the two of you will become one. It will remain with you until the day you die, and from here on out, you will be seen by the masses as the fifth Faranchie prophet. The people will turn to you for help in these dark days, and you will be expected to act as a beacon of hope for the rest of your life. Finally, if everything goes according to plan, your actions will lead to the fall of Sebeth, and the Dragon Storm will be initiated. At that point Edon will become one, and separation between the species shall never again occur for as long as this land exists.
“But you have a choice to make. You can choose to deny what the Prophet’s Song says, and things will go on the way they always have. You can go and start a family with Scarlet, live and die, and never be known for anything. The soul of the prophet will find a new host to call its own, and a new prophet will emerge. But who knows how long that will take, and in the meantime, the suffering will go on. Imagine a world where Faranchies and Cullidons live together in peace, where your children will never know what it feels to be oppressed, where all dragons are united as one. Imagine a utopia where men and women have full control over their actions, where everyone is treated with respect and dignity, and where tolerance is the law of the land. That dream can, and will, become a reality, but only if you step up. If you choose to fight for me, I will watch over you and guide you through all of the trials that are to come, as much as I’m allowed. But first, you must choose.”
From where he was seated, Fin could hear and see children playing in the valley below, old folks chatting on front stoops, and people young and old going about their daily routine. He saw Faranchies and Cullidons, men and women, rich and poor, but none of it mattered. Every last one, regardless of their roots or social status, was a dragon in the Elder’s eye. These were Fin’s people. This was his land.
Fin got down on one knee and bowed his head. “I don’t know how I can go on letting such injustices continue. I accept the conditions, now that I know what needs to be done, and I will do what it takes to make sure that equality becomes a reality. For my home. For my people. For my Edon.”
“Then let the soul of the prophet awaken,” Blizzard said. “There’s no turning back now.”
10
FIN WOKE WITH A start at the foot of his bed, right where he had fallen moments before. The light was gone, the humming had dissipated, and the wind had died down to a simple breeze. But the window was still wide open, and a mixture of glass shards and snow was scattered across the floor. Fin felt a strange tingling sensation in his right palm, like it had fallen asleep. At first, Fin wondered if he had cut himself on a piece of glass, but when he took a look at his palm, he beheld the shocking answer. Fin’s burn was glowing with a luminous blue light that shone on the walls and ceiling. Fin’s eyes widened as he looked upon this phenomenon with awestruck wonder.
“I need to show this to Black-Tooth,” Fin said to himself as he got up and ran to his door. He exited into the hallway, ran to the room where Chok slept, and pounded on the door.
“All right!” Chok said. Fin heard him get up and walk toward the door, grumbling along the way. “Is this how y’all wake a body up? I knew you people like an early start, but this is ridiculous.” The doorknob turned, and a droopy-eyed Chok appeared in the threshold, a lit oil lamp in his hand.
“Fin?” Chok asked, a little surprised to see who was knocking. “Is everythin’ okay?”
“I need to speak to Black-Tooth.”
“What, now? Why do—?”
“This is why!” Fin showed Chok his glowing burn. Chok gasped and dropped his oil lamp, shattering it on the floor and causing the flame to go out. But in the darkness of the hallway, they could both see the Dragon Storm shining like a blue flame.
“Damn,” Chok said.
“What is going on here?” Alto said, coming down the hall. “Is there a reason for all this racket at this time of the morning?”
“Yes, there is,” Fin replied and showed Alto his burn.
“What in the name of all things holy is that?!” Alto replied.
Then Scarlet joined the growing crowd. “Fin?” she asked, emerging from the girls’ wing of the house. “What’s this commotion? Why are we all awake?”
“Baby,” Fin replied, “I don’t want to scare you, but…” He turned his palm in Scarlet’s direction, and the glow from his burn lit the spot where she stood.
“Good heavens,” Scarlet replied. She ran over to where he stood and examined the mark up close.
“When did this start?” Chok asked.
“Just now,” Fin said. “She came to me in a dream, told me everything about the Dragon Storm and—”
“Who’s ‘she’?” Alto asked.
“You know which she I’m talking about,” Fin replied.
“You mean the Elder?” Chok asked.
“Yes,” Fin said. “Her presence entered my room, and I heard her speak to me. Now, how soon can we get to Black-Tooth?”
“We can leave as soon as possible,” Chok said. “This matter is too urgent to wait for the cock to crow. But does this mean that you’ve changed your mind about joinin’?”
“I never said I didn’t want to join,” Fin said. “I just wasn’t sure. Now, I don’t know how I can go on denying what has been made so clear to me.”
“I take that as a yes?” Chok asked.
Fin nodded. “Alto?” he asked. “Is it all right if I leave with Chok?”
“Don’t let me hold you back, Fin,” Alto said. “As far as I’m concerned, Cathwise is ready to take the reins of the bar. You obviously have a bigger responsibility to tackle.”
“Thank you,” Fin replied. He turned to Scarlet, who was smiling from ear to ear.
“Can I get my hopes up now?” Scarlet asked.
“Yeah,” Fin said. “I think this is an appropriate time.”
The sun had not yet risen by the time Fin and Chok returned to the Fist of the Elder. After making their presence known and gathering the members of the resistance in a large pavilion, Fin recounted all that he had experienced during his vision and repeated everything that Blizzard had told him. Everyone who was present reacted in their own way. Black-Tooth stood near the entrance of the pavilion, arms crossed, his half-moon eyes and stern composure holding back a sense of disbelief. Kaw-Ki sat nearby, resting her chin in her palm, taking in every word with bated breath. Rocklier jotted down everything Fin said in a journal that rested on his knee, stopping just long enough to dip his quill in a small cup of ink that sat at his side. Chinaw looked rather bored, as if the meeting were a giant inconvenience, while Kyu resembled an amused teenager barely able to contain her growing enthusiasm. Chok sat behind Fin, loudly cracking his knuckles and nodding his head in agreement to what was
said. He looked as if he was genuinely enjoying himself as the story was told. Kemp sat the closest to Fin, directly across from where he was seated, looking him in the eye in an unblinking, unflinching stare. Fin concluded his recollection by unraveling a length of bandage from his right palm to show everyone his burn, which was still glowing just as bright. The members drew nearer for a better look, their eyes fixated on the once-in-a-lifetime wonder that lay before their eyes.
“Amazing…” Rocklier whispered.
“Ain’t it neat?” Chok said. “I couldn’t believe my own two eyes the first time he showed it to me.”
Black-Tooth nodded in accordance and motioned for Rocklier and Kemp to meet him on the outside of the tent. While everyone else continued to observe Fin’s mark and grill him about his divine encounter, Black-Tooth and Rocklier conversed with Kemp out of earshot.
“So,” Black-Tooth said, “we saw the mark, but is he telling the truth?”
“As far as I could tell,” Kemp replied. “He’s either a really good liar, or he’s telling the truth, and no one lies that well. From what I could decipher, Fin has just experienced something that he can’t explain and can’t understand. He genuinely believes that he’s just had an encounter with the supernatural.”
“Okay,” Rocklier replied, “but does that mean he’ll join us? He could have as many supernatural encounters as the Elder deems necessary, but unless he’s willing to devote himself to our mission, we might as well have just heard a really good story.”
“Chok said he changed his mind,” Black-Tooth said.
“True,” Rocklier said, “but it’s going to take more than Chok’s word to convince me that he’s on our side. Kemp, did you get any indication from your mind scan that Fin had reconsidered?”
“I wasn’t paying attention to that aspect of his psyche,” Kemp replied. “I was only trying to tell if he was lying, which I’ve already determined that he was not.”
“Then why are we wasting our time?” Black-Tooth said. “How about we just ask him if he wants to join?”
“Why don’t we?” Rocklier replied in agreement.
The three reentered the pavilion and approached Fin, whose hand was still being observed by the members of the resistance.
“Guys, give him some space,” Black-Tooth said. Everyone moved away, allowing Black-Tooth to confront Fin in the center of the tent. “You’ve told your story, and you believe you’ve seen the Elder and heard her voice, correct?”
Fin nodded.
“Then I have only to ask,” Black-Tooth said, “are you willing to answer your calling and become the prophet you were born to be?”
Fin hesitated, looking at the members of the resistance, who waited for his reply with impatient excitement.
“When I was in the cave,” Fin said, “with the victims of the Cullidon regime, I saw dragons who had been maimed, deformed, brutalized. They were crying out for justice, for an end to the misery they endured. Before all of that, when I was in Sebeth, I saw a Faranchie who was about to die call out for help. And when I looked over the edge of the cliff onto the countryside, Blizzard showed me the beauty of my home, and I realized all that was at stake. I came to the realization that, for whatever reason, the soul of the prophet had placed me in a position where I would be able to right all the wrongs and fix the damage that has been done to Edon so that no one would need to suffer like the ones in the cave or those slaves who erected the monument in Sebeth. I still don’t know how the soul intends to use me, nor do I fully understand why it chose me in the first place, but I don’t know how I can go on ignoring this call any longer.”
“I take that as a yes,” Black-Tooth said with a smile.
Fin nodded calmly. “Indeed,” he said.
Everyone let out a sigh of relief. Black-Tooth patted Fin on the shoulder.
“I knew you’d say yes,” Black-Tooth said. “As for how long it will take before you’re ready to take a stand, I’d say five months, give or take. You’ll need to move in with us in the dead oak for the duration of your training, and unfortunately, you might not have a whole lot of time to see Scarlet or your foster family. You’ll still be allowed to visit on special occasions, but the bulk of your time will be spent here. However, you need not worry about the safety of your foster family, because I promise the resistance will protect the people you care about from any potential threats during your absence. If I’m correct, Alto has already found a replacement, so your absence from the pub won’t be a huge sacrifice. If Scarlet finishes training her replacement before the five months are up, she can come to visit, but only if she joins and promises not to interfere with your training. I know it’s a lot to take in, but if you are to meet your lofty goals, you’ll need to take the plunge. Are you up for it?”
“If that’s what it takes,” Fin replied, “then I’m in.”
11
HUNDREDS OF MILES AWAY, on a section of the border between northern and southern Edon, sat the ancient capital city of Sebeth. Surrounded on all sides by towering peaks, Sebeth was located in the heart of a lush green valley, which at this time of year was buried under a layer of snow. It was where the rich and powerful of Edonion society lived and worked, where the most powerful names in the land made their home, and where decisions that affected every dragon were made. Faranchies were not allowed beyond its massive stone walls unless they were slaves. The last free Faranchie had abandoned Sebeth centuries ago, when the Cullidons took the city by force and claimed it as their own.
It had been several days since Scaljon left Castle Triticon, and at midnight his coach rounded a corner and started up the long stretch toward Sebeth’s walls. The first thing he saw were the lights emanating from Sebeth’s buildings, a glittering prize in a pit of complete blackness. The dome of the Diet, where Edon’s parliament met to create and enforce laws, was bathed in light and clearly visible among the host of other buildings that made up Edon’s largest city. It was also where Scaljon was headed, on an errand he wished he did not have to make.
Sebeth’s cobblestone streets were abandoned at this time of the evening, making the coach’s trip toward the palace unusually fast. The coach maneuvered around a large statue of a Cullidon standing triumphantly atop a Faranchie’s corpse and through a maze of marble and limestone buildings, many of which dated back to Sebeth’s founding over a thousand years ago. All the while, the dome of the palace loomed over Sebeth’s skyline like a bad omen. Eventually, the coach passed through a pair of iron gates and entered the palace grounds. A little bit farther and the coach stopped in front of a fountain near the foot of the palace’s steps. Scaljon got out, and the coach departed, leaving him alone next to the fountain, which had been shut off for the winter. He felt small in the shadow of the palace dome, a marble structure that was clad in a layer of red clay tiles, set with oval windows around its base, and topped with a gold-roofed cupola. Firepits burned near the base of the dome beneath multicolored panels of glass that rotated slowly, washing the dome in a blaze of constantly changing hues. As Scaljon observed the dome, a light snow started to fall. He shivered, knowing well that where he was going, it was going to get a lot colder.
His footsteps crunched as he walked up the snow-covered steps toward the heavy oak doors that led into a lavish entrance hall. Towering pillars held up a massive arched ceiling, and images from the first Edonion civil war were carved in marble relief along its base. As he passed beneath them, statues and busts of famous Cullidons watched on, while shining suits of armor stood in quiet reserve from behind their glass display cases. Musket-wielding guards in heavy, gold-plated armor stood on either side of the hall, the only souls still here at this hour. They saluted as Scaljon passed them, a gesture that he hurriedly returned. Scaljon passed under the towering dome of the Diet through a curtain of pale moonlight cast by the oval windows. The light lingered on a number of colorful frescoes on the dome’s ceiling, depicting various events from Edon’s past. More statues lined the perimeter of the rotunda, gathered at interva
ls next to each of the large stone pillars that held up the dome. Scaljon refused to stay in the rotunda for long; he often became dizzy when he stood in its center, and whenever he passed through, he did so with haste. He proceeded down an endless maze of granite hallways and corridors to a chamber known only as the Gallery of Law. It was where the Cullidon assembly met on a day-to-day basis to create laws, pass legislation, and impose their lofty demands on the Edonion populace. A lively part of the Diet by day, the gallery was ghostly quiet at this hour. Unnerved, Scaljon quickened his pace and reached the fireplace at the opposite end of the gallery. A handful of coals still burned in the bottom, what little light they gave choked by the oppressive darkness. But this was of little concern for Scaljon, who had come to know the gallery like the back of his hand. He grasped the necks of two marble statues of ravens staring at each other on the top of the fireplace. Scaljon twisted the neck of the one in his left hand so that its beak faced his direction, while the one in his right was forced to face the wall. A heavy thud sounded, and Scaljon gently pushed the end of the fireplace. It rotated, revealing a hidden passage beyond.
Scaljon descended a flight of stairs, down to a corridor that no one except the highest members of authority in Edonion society was allowed to access. The door behind him slammed shut when he reached the bottom of the stairs, possibly shutting him off from the surface for good. At the end of the narrow hallway, Scaljon could see a pair of black doors waiting for him. It was protected by two guards armed with long, sharp halberds. With anxiety bubbling in his gut, Scaljon marched down the corridor. He knew he had to get it over with, as it was impossible to ignore it any longer. The guards crossed their halberds in front of the doors before Scaljon could continue.