I've been thinking on whether to do this now or later, but here it is. The the first 10% of my first book. Hope you like it.

The Second Prophecy

Part 1 of the Dragdani prophecies

A Peter Stark Book

Written By

R. Alan Ferguson

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Second Prophecy

All rights reserved.

Copyright © 2012 by R. Alan Ferguson.

Cover art by R. Alan Ferguson

This book is protected under copyright laws. Any reproduction or other unauthorised use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

Table Of Contents

END

For my mum Jacqueline

and dad William, who

gave me life, love and an

understanding of the

world, and for believing.

For my big brother William and

big sister Sabrina whom I looked

up to in years past, but who now look up

to me, cause I’m taller than them, ha ha.

For my grandparents Maud and Jackie,

who are always there when I need them,

and who showed me that the only limitations

we have are the ones we give to ourselves.

And for a true friend, Paul,

who helped show me that some

explanations don’t need to be so long

and others are not needed at all.

And to my niece Chloe who helped me

edit and prepare this book.

Thank you all.

Prologue

The days of Lord Salith, Dark Wizard and master of Dempmage and the dark lands therein, are long over.

Said to be the most powerful Wizard ever to walk the lands of the long forgotten world of Dorminya (pronounced Dormanya). The Dark Lord’s downfall came at the hands of the Wizard-Elf, King Dragdani (son of the first-born Wizard-Elf Thoucil), of the lands of Opredanas.

Salith’s ruin came just in time to save Dorminya from falling into eternal darkness, though he has an heir, a daughter who is herself a Wizard-Elf but only because her father made her so. He wanted her to have what he himself had searched most of his life for, immortality.

When the Dark Lord’s end finally came, it was believed by all that she would take his place; however, she had secretly longed to be free and had no intention of taking over the regime that her father had spent so long building and securing. Her refusal only brought around a chance for Salith’s apprentice to take his place. Also a Wizard-Elf, Lord Ulicoth took the throne of Dempmage all too willingly, and sought to destroy the Order of Lanisic once and for all. He succeeded in destroying King Dragdani, though failed in ending the Order itself. It survived and thrived, if only for the reason that Ulicoth fell prey to the last spell that Dragdani cast before his untimely death. The curse was designed especially for the Dark Lord, and as soon as it hit him, he was severely weakened and stripped of most of his powers.

Since, his powers have slowly returned, so he is now as powerful as an ordinary Wizard, but he has and will continue to look for a way to bring himself back to full strength. In addition, he has been patiently waiting for the day of the Second Prophecy, which was written by none other than Dragdani. It is said that on that day, Lord Ulicoth will face his own destruction. Still Ulicoth would do anything – anything – to stop this day of his ruin from coming to pass.

Chapter One

The Fifth Wizard-Elf

It was the first of July and a normal morning on Weston Road, which was the cleanest and newest street in the neighborhood, with its patches of beautiful green grass between the footpaths and the road. These patches of grass had small flowerbeds planted right in the middle of them. Some had small thin trees; with round black metal fences guarding the tree trunks. The entire street was extremely tidy and very well-kept.

The sun had risen and was shining brightly; it was the start of a warm day in the street.

At the middle of Weston Road, on the right side, there was a big cream-colored house that was two floors high, and one could say, spacious.

It was 10:00 am on a Tuesday morning, and at this time; the radio alarm on the bedside cabinet in the master bedroom of number eight Weston Road sounded. The man that lay on the left side of the King-sized bed let out a short groan of discomfort as he hit the clock several times trying to hit the off button. When he finally accomplished this, he rolled back over and instantly fell back to sleep. His wife, on the other hand, jumped out of bed and stood there in her red silk pajamas and had a long stretch. “It’s time to get up, sleepy head,” she said as a yawn caught her.

“Just another hour or two.” said her drowsy husband’s voice.

“Don’t be so lazy,” she said cheerily.

But the man did not answer; he had fallen back into a deep sleep.

The woman walked to the bottom of the bed, took hold of the bedclothes and pulled them clean off. Then she crawled onto her side of the bed. She could still feel a little warmth were she once lay and felt a small desire to lie down again and join her husband. However, she leant over and put her hands on her husband’s side then pushed with all her might and rolled him off the bed and onto the floor. He landed with a dull thud and before jumping up.

John Stark exclaimed, “What the heck was that for?”

“For being so lazy,” said Helen Stark as she started to laugh.

“Is that right?” John did not sound the slightest bit amused. This only made his wife laugh more. He got up, went into the bathroom and locked the door.

“What are you doing?” Helen asked.

“I’m about to take a shower,” answered John.

“You know I like to use the bathroom first in the morning, because every time you go in it stinks afterwards.”

“Go use one of the other bathrooms.” he said crankily.

“If that’s the way you want it fine, I’ll use one of the other bathrooms,” she said as she laughed quietly to herself.

A short while later John came down the stairs, headed for the kitchen and started to make breakfast. It seemed that he was now in a better mood, which was probably a good thing, as not long after that Helen, wearing a red hoodie and black tracksuit bottoms, came down the stairs. She could smell the eggs and bacon that John had made and as she got closer, she could hear the sizzling of the frying pan as he put it in the sink and turned on the hot tap to cool it a little so it wouldn’t spit at him when he switched to the cold.

She went into the kitchen, which comprised of a cooker near the far corner and benches running round the wall, with a sink in front of the wide window facing Helen. There were also cupboards overhead on the walls running the distance of the breakfast bar. There were cupboards running opposite closer to the floor, and between them and the breakfast bar there were also drawers. A tall cupboard sat at the end, which housed their dinner and lunch plates, glasses and cups. After seeing all those familiar things, Helen also saw that John was not there, so she turned her gaze to the dining table, and there he was waiting for her to join him. She sat down and looked at him. He was wearing a grey T-shirt, blue jeans, and his hair as always in the morning was messy. She found herself trying to determine if he was still angry.

“I take it that you’re not cross with me anymore John?” she said.

“Cross with you?” John asked blankly. “Why would I be cross? I was just being lazy.”

Helen grew suspicious. He must have found a way to get back at me, she thought. She looked about trying to see anything that he might have done, but there was nothing. “You’re up to something,” she told him.

“I’m not up to anything,” said John. “I’m not as immature as you.”

Well, he was being a little lazy, she thought. Maybe he’s seeing things from my point of view. Remembering what she did brought a smile to her face again. Then she picked up a piece of the toast from the plate in front of her. She was about to put it to her lips when she just happen to look down at it, and when she did she saw a small spider humbly standing on it looking right back at her. She froze on her seat. This immobility changed as the eight-legged creature suddenly grew to at least three times its original size. Helen screamed and threw the toast onto the table. To her surprise, the spider vanished in an instant.

Helen is terrified of spiders, and John knew it. She looked over at him. He had one hand over his mouth, obviously trying to stop himself from laughing. In his other hand was a wand.

“Not as immature as me?” asked Helen.

John laughed aloud. “Now we’re even.”

“Fine. Just so you know mine was better. I didn’t cheat.”

“Using magic isn’t cheating where I come from. Besides, you wouldn’t say that if you had seen your face.” John laughed again.

Helen said nothing. She just stared at the clock on the wall that sat to the left of the window, which said that it was now 10:38 am.

As always they were acting like children but soon calmed down and sat comfortably at their dining table. They sat facing one another. John was reading the newspaper with his back to the dining room window, and Helen was staring out of it, watching the white puffy clouds as they calmly blew past.

Suddenly, smoke began to rise up from the floor, but it did not spread around the room. It twirled and twisted into a thick, man-sized column. Helen sat staring over John’s right shoulder.

“What’s wrong, Helen?” inquired her curious husband. She didn’t answer. She just kept staring.

Then there was a whooshing sound and John knew it, although he had not heard it in seven years.

A tall shadow began to form in the smoke.

John had just begun to turn his head to look and see if he was right in his assumption, when he heard the voice of a man, and that, too, sounded very familiar.

“What very strange dwellings these Normals have,” said the man as the smoke cleared.

John was less than happy to see an old Wizard standing there.

The Wizard stood tall with a rough build and a white beard that was at least six inches long. His face was very thin, and he had sharp cheekbones. His nose looked a little too long, for his face was quite thin, with the left nostril being smaller than the right, as though his nose had been broken and had not been set properly. On it, a thin scar ran from the top right side to the bottom left side. His mouth was wide and his lips were thin. He had large hands and long fingers, and he was wearing turquoise robes and an indigo belt. And over the robes, he wore a dark blue cloak with a hood. The hood covered the top part of his face. John and Helen could only see his nose, mouth and beard, but John knew who it was.

“Delsani!” said John, unmoved with the appearance of his old friend and mentor.

“Indeed,” answered the Wizard, and he removed his hood from his head. His beard made him look old and worn. He looked kind but worried, and his eyes were dark, just dark.

“What are you doing here?” asked John crossly.

“Are you feeling so hurt that you can’t welcome an old friend into your home?” asked the old Wizard.

“Friend” John sounded very hurt. “Ha, that’s funny. I thought a friend would visit before the end of seven years.”

“To you seven years, and for the rest of us it has been fourteen. I am sorry about that, John, but those of us who still consider you a friend thought it was better that you didn’t see or hear from us, in case it would stir up bad memories or make you home sick,” said Delsani.

“Not having any of you visit when the dust settled made it worse.”

“I think I know what you mean.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” said John coldly. “So how are they?” he asked, not being able to hide his interest in those he had known for most of his life.

Delsani, knowing exactly what his old friend meant, said, “I’m sorry to say that we’ve lost two, but the others are fine, and they have missed you terribly, Jastark, as I have.”

“Who did we lose?” asked John, now sounding deeply concerned.

“All will be explained later, I promise you that, my friend,” Delsani replied.

John nodded as old memories flashed into his mind. He found himself wondering who the two were, but tried to think no more of it at that time.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us, John?” asked Helen assertively.

“Yes, of course. Delsani, this is my wife, Helen, the woman who was kind enough to take me in out of the cold.’ John’s sense of humor was starting to resurface.

Delsani nodded at Helen.

Then John turned his head to look at her and said, “Helen, this is Delsani, one of my oldest and most trusted friends.”

Helen moved forward and shook the old Wizard’s hand. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” the Wizard replied. He turned to John again. “I regret to tell you that I didn’t come for a friendly visit. I’m here on Council business. I’ve come to tell you something very important,” said Delsani cheerlessly.

“What is it?” asked John, his humor fading again at the mention of the Council.

“I’m not sure if we can talk about it here. If he has the slightest idea of what we are trying to do, his spies may be close, and that means we can’t stay for very long,” replied Delsani. “You must come back with me.”

“Go back? I can’t. I won’t! Especially not for those who call me friend and forget that I even exist,’ John sulked. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Haven’t you heard a word I‘ve said?” Delsani replied harshly.

“Yes, I’ve heard every word, but you must understand that I have a life here, and I’m not just going to leave it until you give me a darn good reason. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“Very well, you leave me no choice. What I have to say is about the Dragdani Prophecies, so please listen carefully. This has been kept secret for over six hundred years and for a very good reason. I will only tell you if you’re sure that you’re willing to hear it. Once you do. There is no turning back.”

“Tell me. I’m willing, whatever it is.”

The old Wizard nodded slowly and said, “John, you are the only living descendent of King Dragdani, who wrote the two prophecies.”

John opened his mouth as if to speak but no sound passed his lips. He felt as if his heart had suddenly jumped into his throat. In fact, this news surprised him so much that it took him a few seconds to come around again.

For it is believed by most (but certainly not all) Wizards and Witches that Dragdani was one of the wisest and most powerful Kings in all of history.

After a few more seconds, Helen broke the silence by asking, “What does that mean?”

The old Wizard turned his gentle gaze upon her. “Please forgive me, for I’d forgotten that you are a Normal. I will explain it so you may understand.”

There was another short pause then he continued, “Six hundred and forty seven years ago there was a Wizard-Elf by the name of Dragdani.”

“What’s a Wizard-Elf?” Helen interrupted. “Sorry.” she added.

The Wizard smiled. “Wizard-Elves are very rare and very powerful people. History scrolls say that there were only ever four. John is the Fifth Wizard-Elf and the only one that I have ever seen.”

Delsani went on to explain about John’s family history, and everything else they needed to know. When he had finished, he said, ‘Now I will explain the prophecies to both of you, if you’d like.”

“Yes, please” said Helen, who sounded absolutely enthralled with what she was hearing. She and John were both now listening very carefully to every word that passed the old Wizard’s lips.

“The First Prophecy warned that the Dark Shadow, which Lord Salith formed, would return by the fault of another evil, and this evil would assemble an enormous and very destructive force. From it, the races of Dorminya would suffer terrible losses of life, and this would plunge our world into darkness. The hatred among some races would grow, and some of the old alliances would die. It was the evil Wizard’s plan to leave our world defenseless against his influence.

“Understanding this, the Wizard Council kept the First Prophecy secret. They believed that if everyone knew of it, there would be panic, and any little trust that Wizards held would be gone in an instant. For men and Dwarves didn’t and still don’t trust Wizards. Fear is their main reason. They fear us because we are so different.

“It was fear and mistrust that caused the Council to lock the Prophecy in the vault in the Towers of Telian, in the land of Opredanas, and there they kept it. They only removed it when they were studying it. They thought that the answer to stopping this terrible event from taking place might be found in the Prophecy itself.

“They asked Dragdani if there was anything in the Prophecy that might stop it, but even he didn’t know. He studied it constantly but could find nothing else. The Council was losing hope when Dragdani told them of another vision he had, only the night before. As he related it, it was written down, for they knew at that time it was all that could be done. This vision has become known as the Second Prophecy.

“The Second Prophecy foretold that after the shadow of Salith gripped of our world again. The death mist, which Salith also created, would also return. Nevertheless, Dragdani also saw that from the Normal World there would come a very special Wizard-Elf. He would be the only one able to rebuild the alliances and lead all of the races against the shadow and mist of Salith.

“However, if this Wizard-Elf could not be found then evil would reign in Dorminya forever,” finished Delsani.

“What is so different about this Wizard-Elf?” asked John.

“Dragdani foretold that he would be the most powerful yet, and he would be descended from Dragdani’s own family line. And as you, John are his last descendent, you must be the one of which he spoke.”

John now looked astonished. “If you knew that I’m the one in the Second Prophecy, why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“Because we didn’t find out until today.”

“Why?” John asked with even more interest than ever.

“There was a blank piece of parchment rolled up with the prophecies, and as Dragdani left instructions not to discard anything in the scroll, it was kept as well.

“We’ve been studying the Second Prophecy for any clues too who it might be referring to. Then early this morning the blank parchment was no longer blank. It had a name on it. Your name. And even stranger than that, it wasn’t your Wizard name, but your Normal name,” said Delsani informatively. “That’s why you must come with me now.”

A long silence filled the room.

“John I want to talk to you in private,” said Helen anxiously, as if she thought they were about to disappear in the blink of an eye.

“Then I shall wait here, but please do hurry,” said the old Wizard.

John and Helen went into the living room and shut the door behind them, while Delsani remained beside the dining table.

As soon as they sat down, Helen not only sounded worried, now she looked it.

“I don’t want you to go. It’s too dangerous, and you said that you never wanted to go back to Dorminya.”

“Yes, I did, because –” John paused.

“Because...” prompted Helen.

“I was exiled, but this changes everything. If Delsani is right and I don’t go back. Then my world will be destroyed.”

“Those people threw you out of your home and destroyed your life. They haven’t shown the slightest interest in you for seven years. Now that they need you, they have the cheek to come here and ask for your help. They’re just using you. Don’t let them.” Helen’s anger was starting to show.

“You’re right. The Council did throw me out, but not everyone thought what they did was right. They’re the ones I’m thinking of. How can I let those people pay for the Council’s arrogance? And besides, I’m glad they threw me out. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you,” added John carefully. The last thing he wanted was to make his wife angry. She was no tyrant, but she did have an awful temper. John knew that if it flared he would most certainly lose the argument. Not that it would stop him from doing what he thought he must.

After John spoke, Helen thought that it did not matter what her view in this was. John felt too strongly about it. Besides, she also knew he was right. Why let the innocent pay for the stupid decision those idiots made? Furthermore, John was right about them not meeting if it hadn’t have happened. She frowned and said, “I understand, and I’m going too, and you can’t talk me out of it.”

“What makes you think that I would want to talk you out of it?” asked John who looked quite happy with Helen’s decision.

They got up together. John opened the door, and there was Delsani standing in the same spot.

“Well, what do you say? Are you coming?” he asked eagerly.

“Yes,” John answered. “We’re both going.”

“I think that would be for the best. It may not be safe for Helen to stay on her own,” admitted Delsani, “in case one of Ulicoth’s spies were to find out that you are married. He could try to use it against you. She should be safe in the towers.”

“Ulicoth,” spat John; his face suddenly losing its color. All Wizards knew that name. Ulicoth once sat at the right hand of Lord Salith.

“Yes, the Dark Wizard-Elf. He was the one who brought back the shadow of Salith. He is the one that we must stop before he brings the red mist back as well,” said Delsani hastily. “There is one other thing that you must know about Ulicoth. We still don’t know who he really is or even where he came from. All we know is that Salith taught him over six hundred years ago.”

“Do you think he could really have so much power?” asked John.

“Yes, I am afraid he has become as evil, ruthless and almost as powerful as his master, and he will do whatever it takes to finish Salith’s work.”

John said nothing at first. Then he asked, “What does the red mist do?”

John had already heard about it, as he had heard of almost everything that the Wizard had said up to this point, but he wanted to be sure. It had been a long time since he had heard the stories, and he wanted to be absolutely sure of what he was walking into.

“You must have heard the stories, but the truth of the matter is, we’re not entirely sure,” said Delsani, “for it only ever claimed two victims, and it affected them both differently. The first was Alavil; she was the Elven maiden that Salith forced to bare him a child, a Wizard-Elf. When Salith exposed her to the mist, it killed her, which is why some call it the death mist. The second victim was Queen Thoucil Dragdani’s mother. It turned her mad,” said the old Wizard. “You should gather whatever you need; we must leave as soon as possible.”

“Not until I call Joan and Harry,” said Helen. “We can’t leave without telling them. Besides they’ll cover for us while were gone.”

“There’s no need to worry about that. We will send some of our people to take your places while we’re away.”

“But how will that help? Our friends do know what we look like,” said Helen.

“I am offended by your lack of faith, young lady,” Delsani joked. “You forget who you’re dealing with here. Our agents will not only assume your identities. They shall also take your appearances as well.”

“But still, we should tell Joan and Harry.”

“Quickly,” urged John.

“How long will we be away?” Helen swiftly asked.

“In truth, I can’t really say, though I would guess at least five years in Dorminya. Then you could return to see to your lives here, if that is what you want,” replied Delsani. “That would be two years and six months in this world.”

“Right, okay two years and six months,” Helen repeated while rushing into the living room to call their friends. She had always had a terrible memory when it came to anything that was not connected to her books.

“Who are Joan and Harry?” asked Delsani when Helen was gone.

“They’re two of our closest friends. And the only other Normals who know what I really am,” replied John.

Helen came back into the room and stood between Delsani and John.

“So are you both ready?” asked Delsani.

“Yes,” they answered together.

“Now are you sure that there’s nothing you wish to take with you?”

“Perhaps some clothes,” said Helen.

“No,” said John. “We better leave now. We can get what we want sent to us later.”

Helen nodded in agreement.

Delsani reached into the inside pocket of his robes and took out his wand. The wand would have looked like an old ridged, dried up twig if not for the handle, which was metal and had strange letters engraved on it. The letters were of the Wizard language. For when Wizards graduate, their wands are given names. Usually one of the trainers, those Wizards who teach and train the young ones in the ways of magic would name their pupils’ wands. In the rare instance when a wand rejects the name it is first given, it may be renamed by whoever the owner of the wand may chose. After they are named, their names appear engraved into the handle. The name of Delsani’s wand was Ruvkel; the name of John’s wand was Fasruol.

As the three stood on the tiled Kitchen floor ready to leave, Delsani and John thought of the place they were going. And both held onto Helen. Then with Ruvkel in his hand, Delsani said, “Plias thi Dorminya.” He pointed the wand at the floor, and a continuous stream of smoke darted from its tip. The smoke rose from the floor very quickly, surrounding them, and all that could be seen were shadows. The next instant, they were gone.

Chapter Two

Dragdani’s Dragon

As the smoke cleared, the three travelers found they were in a stone grey room. It looked and felt cold and was very dimly lit. Helen could smell strong unavoidable odors which she could not even remotely identify. Most were nice, but others, well, perhaps one can guess.

There was a wide wooden door to the right of them, which was the front entrance and exit. The door was like oak, only stronger. It was eight foot high and four inches thick. It had three hinges that were made of what looked like steel. Both sides of the hinges were square, and they were attached to the door and stone frame by thick steel rivets. These were at least five inches in length. The door was barred with a long thick strip of very sturdy looking wood. The very same wood from which the door itself was made.

Helen couldn’t help thinking it looked like a door that a fortress would have.

There were also double doors to the left. It was those doors they walked to. They were a dark navy blue and had Wizard runes spread across them, some of which were as big as Helen’s hands. The symbols suddenly moved and changed into plain English letters that said, WELCOME.

Delsani opened the right-hand door by pulling it outward and walked on through. John stopped for Helen and held the door open as she walked past. As she went through the doorway, she saw that it led out into the middle of the main hall of the Towers of Telian. She knew this, as she was an author and had written of it in a few of her books after John described it to her. The hall was lengthy and tall, and along the walls on both sides hung torches with tall and very bright silver flames. The flames were so bright that the only shadows that could be seen were theirs. Not even any of the artifacts lining the walls or filling the main hall had a shadow between them.

The display of old relics was so large that it went from one end of the hall to the other on both sides. They were separated like in a museum, with a different arrangement for each time or race. The artifacts ranged from suits of armor and helmets to swords, bows, arrows and crossbows with bolts. There were other weapons, small and large. There were clothes too, and pieces of old parchment with all sorts of writing on them. Most of the ink was faded, and some were so old that the writing on them could hardly be seen at all. Those mostly belonged to the likes of famous Men, Elves, and Dwarves.

There were also old wands, staffs, parchment with spells on them, cauldrons, broomsticks, and hats that belonged to famous Wizards and Witches. Each artifact had a small plaque to explain what it was, who owned it, and in what time. And there were wooden doors here and there along the walls which gave access to the main building, which sat between the three towers.

The floor of the hall was dark and finely polished; it was so glossy that the reflections of the hall could plainly be seen in it, as though it was a sort of giant black mirror. But it was not a mirror, and those were not reflections in it. The floor was a dimensional window, and so it was called, for it gave a view of other dimensions. In it, Helen saw a woman sitting upside down only a few feet away. She had her head in her hands and looked as though she were crying. She lifted her head, and Helen saw that the woman was a double of herself. The double saw her too and quickly got up and started to walk her way. She stopped short of Helen and looked at John. Tears filled her eyes again. She looked unsteady, as though she would fall. Then she looked at Helen and began to talk to her, but Helen could not hear her words. The floor gave only sight and no sound. Helen believed she could read the woman’s lips, though. “No trust, John is dead.”

At first Helen thought that she had it wrong, but in some way it made sense. That would explain the anguish Helen had seen in her double. The view of the woman and hall faded, and the floor turned grey.

Delsani had seen what Helen had seen. “Keep in mind that she lives in an alternate universe. Things can be different there? These differences may be big or small. And sometimes there are none,” he said.

Delsani’s words caught John’s attention. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“There’s nothing wrong, John,” Helen lied.

John looked at Delsani. “I know something is wrong. What is it?”

Helen stood there silent and then said weakly, “I saw myself in the floor, and I told myself not to trust any Wizard, and that you’re dead.”

John paused for a moment, and then reflected, “I know what that’s like. One time I saw a double that said, ‘Mum will die.’ The only thing was both my parents had died when I was very young.”

“Er ...right,” said Helen, still feeling uneasy.

“Just because I’m dead in that dimension, doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m going to keel over any time soon,” said John sarcastically.

“Is that supposed to cheer me up?” Helen asked, not at all amused.

“No, it means Delsani is right; there’s probably nothing to worry about.”

“Probably,” the young woman repeated, sounding quite concerned.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Helen, believe me,” replied her husband reassuringly.

Helen continued to feel anxious about the whole thing.

Then as quickly as the dimensional reflection had faded, it came back. All three were now looking, but Helen’s double was not there, because the floor looked into different dimensions. Now they could see a man. He was tall and neat except for his short messy hair, which would have been completely blond if not for streaks here and there of dark brown. He looked young, at most in his early twenties, and was wearing a beige shirt, black trousers, and a belt that was black with a silver clip-in buckle with an engraved Dragon’s claw holding an orb. He was wearing light brown shoes, and in his right hand he held a sword. In his other hand he held a piece of cloth, which he used to wipe down the blade of his sword.

On the blade were Elven runes, which seemed to shine with a small echoing light; a light that made the silver blade look exquisite and flawless. He stopped wiping the blade then put the sword gently and carefully into its sheath, which was blue with the same letters. They also had a shine to them, but unlike the light on the blade, it was not an echoing light, but more like a sparkle, as if diamonds or some other valuable stones were set in.

The guard of the sword looked like two long fangs running up beside the blade. They were four inches in length, and both the guard and the butt of the hilt were the same color of blue as the sheath. The handle’s grip was royal blue with a thin blue chain winding round it.

The man turned slightly, and it was then that John saw something silver glimmer in the torchlight. It was the centerpiece of a necklace that was held around his neck by a thin black rope. It looked tiny from where they stood and hard to see because of the light shining on it.

John was trying to see what the silver piece was when he saw his eyes unexpectedly change in his refection in one of the glass cases, from hazel brown to green. Not only did they change in color. They changed in appearance as well. The pupils had stretched from top to bottom; they now looked like little Dragon eyes.

Like his eyes, his view was now also green. He could see light green ripples moving from his pupils to the edges of his irises. His sight was better, the detail of everything around him grown clearer than ever. The ripples seemed to have their own function. For every time they passed, he could see the dust particles moving in the air. When he looked at the doors at the far end of the room, he could see a draft coming through a gap at the bottom of one of them.

Then at the side of his right eye, John could see two thin wafts of air that were getting bigger and diminishing as they floated away. When he turned round, he saw that it was the very breath of Helen and Delsani. It seemed that he could also see any movement no matter how small it was. This is like some kind of radar, he thought.

“We are privileged to be able to see the great Wizard-Elf Dragdani,” said Delsani, “It’s not every day you see a living legend.”

“Dragdani,” said John. He knew he had seen the man before, but he had been away from Dorminya for so long that he could not even recognize one of the most famous people to ever walk that world. He turned his gaze back to Dragdani, looked at the sheath of his sword and to the Elven symbols, and then to his eyes alone they changed and appeared now as English letters. They spelt Yeluilat, the name of one of the most radiant stars in the Elven night sky. It was also the name given to the Sword of Light, which was forged by the Wizards and Witches of Cayer-Huld and the Elves of Haludon then given to Dragdani as a gift when he assumed the throne. It was called the Sword of Light because when its name was spoken aloud, it would emit a blinding light that would drive back any darkness and reveal anything that might be hiding within it. But the sword would only allow its true bearer to perform this act. Anyone else foolish enough to try it would be swallowed by the light and destroyed within its radiance.

John turned his attention back to the necklace around Dragdani’s neck. His eyes, to his own surprise, zoomed in on the silver piece, and he saw that it was in the shape of a Dragon. It was looking to Dragdani’s right, its wings half open, its front claws holding a multicolored orb, and suspended on the rope at either side of the Dragon’s head were two silver metal beads. As every Wizard knows, the silver Dragon was the personal seal of King Dragdani. Wizard’s and Witches young and old call it Dragdani’s Dragon, for the silver Dragon was modeled on the Dragon Lanisic. He and Dragdani were the best of friends, and some of the Wizards even called Lanisic Dragdani’s Dragon.

Lanisic was the leader of the Jemonac Dragon Colony. Salith destroyed the colony for siding with the King. He also destroyed the Wizard Order of Thyeron, named for the largest of Dorminya’s moons, and the old Coven Wiannta, which took the name of the first Witch to recruit for the coven. After the Order, the Coven and Colony lay in ruins. They were slowly restored and renamed, though it took many long years to rebuild what Salith had taken.

The Wizards and Witches that remained needed a new sovereign. Thoucil was next in line, but she refused and took the position of Grand Wizard instead. Dragdani, as her son and heir, accepted the throne and his coronation happened almost immediately.

When the Wizards had rebuilt their order, Dragdani then helped the withes do the same, and in their turn, also helped the Dragons find a new home. It is said that he went to the cleft of Lavoul and raised an island from the very sea itself, that he moved it away from the coast and further out to sea to make sure that the Dragons would be left to live in peace.

“I see that it’s happened already,” said Delsani.

“What’s happened?” asked Helen.

John turned around to look at her. “My eyes have changed.”

“Not just your eyes John,” she said, aghast. “Your ears have changed too.”

“It’s all right,” said Delsani. “All Wizard-Elves go through this.”

“Why didn’t you tell us that before?” asked John with a note of distress, now that the novelty of his new eyes had worn off.

“It must’ve slipped my mind,” said Delsani.

John walked over to a display case. He could see his reflection again and looked at his ears repeatedly from one to the other. They were exactly the same height and width. They were pointed, and both had one small notch near the top of the lobe. John had not seen this before when he noticed the change in his eyes, though now he could see all of it easily. Then his eyes returned to normal, though his ears did not.

“Why haven’t my ears turned back?” he asked distraughtly.

“Well, that’s because they’re permanent,” replied Delsani.

“Permanent!,” repeated John loudly; he was even more distressed with this. “You said Wizard-Elves can do things ordinary Wizard’s and Witches can’t,” he said almost desperately. “So does that mean that I could find a way to change my ears back?” he asked optimistically.

“Perhaps,” said Delsani.

“Why do Wizard-Elves have those strange eyes?” asked Helen, making her self-known once more.

“I’ll explain on the way up to the Council Chambers. The Council will be waiting for us,” replied Delsani.

They began to walk toward the far doors at the end of the hall to their left. But just before they had reached it, John saw the display case that held Dragdani’s wand. The one the King had used before he got his Wizard-Elf abilities. It also held a set of his robes from the days when he attended the old Wizard College, Jaldgiler, along with his flying broomstick that he used to win the B.A.R (Broomstick Amateur Races) twice in a row.

The once-great broom was a little worse for wear. Not too far from the top of the broomstick shaft was a grip, a long thick piece of material which was tightly wrapped around that part of the shaft. It was torn. Half way down. The shaft was badly cracked, which was the result of the unfortunate accident that almost had taken the life of the young Wizard. The accident happened at the race during Dragdani’s fourth year at college. It was the second year he had raced, as young Wizards and Witches were only allowed to enter the broomstick races in their third year.

All broomsticks were fitted with safety bars. These were metal strips strengthened with magic to ensure the safety of the rider. In the event of a crash, the safety bar would detect it and a large bubble would surround the rider and give them a softer landing. However, the safety bar could not protect the rider if they were to fall off. The bars ran down the shafts of the brooms then split into finer pieces which were mixed amongst the twig bristles.

Those were not Dragdani’s only possessions on display. There were many of his things, even the necklace piece whichthey had seen his double wearing only minutes before. His spell book was probably the most famous of all of his possessions, for written somewhere in its pages was the spell that defeated the Dark Wizard, Salith, though none knew what it was. The Wizard-Elf had put protection spells on the book to prevent it ever being opened by anyone but him.

They walked on, and when they got to the end of the hall there were three doors. They took the one to the left. The runes on it moved and changed into two separate words that both said WELCOME. The top one was the Wizard language, and the bottom one was in English:

Hiwol

Welcome

Then the door opened by itself.

They walked through the doorway. At first the room was black, though suddenly there was a bright light. There were no torches or candles or anything that would usually emit such a strong illumination. And although the light was strong, Helen could still see no walls, which intrigued her more than anything else. At first, all that could be seen were wooden doors. The doors were numbered and floating around the room on small pieces of what looked like thick mist or cloud. Most of the doors were brown, but not all, for there were red, grey, blue, and even green doors as well. To their right there were two bright stone staircases. They were twisting and coiling around each other, going up as far as the eye could see. Well, as far as Delsani and Helen’s could see. Up the steps went, around and around like two giant snakes. At the bottom of both staircases, on either side, were posts bearing the image of Dragdani’s Dragon carved into white stone.

“What is this place?” asked Helen.

“This is one of the three vault rooms,” replied Delsani. “The vault door moves about each of the rooms, floating around with the dimensional doors, and the only ones who know which vault room it is in are the Grand Wizard and the other members of the Council.”

“And what are dimensional doors?” asked Helen, now totally baffled.

“Remember when I said that dimensional windows show us worlds that are very like our own? Well. These are dimensional doors that allow access to other worlds that in almost every case are so alien that it can take years to learn how to talk to the people who live there. But be careful not to open a door that leads to a demon dimension.”

“How do you know the difference between them?” asked Helen.

“Usually you can hear screaming coming from the demon doors,” replied John mordantly.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this John?” asked Helen, who sounded excited with the idea but also disappointed that she had not known about it before.

“If you remember, you didn’t want to know too much about Dorminya. You wanted to use your imagination for your books or I would have told you everything,” replied John defensively.

“Well, now I want to know everything,” said Helen, very intrigued by all she was learning.

When they got to the foot of the staircase facing them, they stopped. Helen looked up. It was so high that she grew dizzy. “That looks like a long climb,” she said.

“What climb?” asked John. He stepped forward onto the staircase and stood there for less than a second with both of his feet on the first step, and then suddenly vanished.

“What happened?” cried Helen. John had not told her of the staircases either.

“The staircases are just for show,” said Delsani. “When you step onto the first tread on either one, you’ll instantly be teleported to whatever floor you wish. You should go next. Fifth floor, by the way.’

Helen said nothing. If her facial expression was anything to go by, she was not at all excited about this. Her morbid fear battled with her fascination, and with this weighing on her mind, she stepped forward onto the step, shut her eyes tight. Then, like John, she too disappeared.

When she reappeared, John was there waiting. “Congratulations,” he said.

“For what?” Helen asked as she opened her eyes again.

“For your second magical experience,” replied John. “I forgot to congratulate you the first time round.”

“No,” said Helen, putting up her right index finger and waving it slowly from side to side. “That was my fourth magical experience. First I came here,” and she started counting with her fingers, “Then the dimensional window, and then there were the floating doors. Then the teleporting staircases.” She finished, sounding clever and looking quite pleased with herself.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” John asked.

Helen laughed. “Smarter then you, anyway,” she said.

“You know, now that I’m a King, you shouldn’t talk to me like that,” said the Wizard-Elf, “or I might end up taking a leaf out of Henry the Eighth’s book, and you know what happened to his wives.”

“Don’t even think about it,” said his wife with a smile.

“If the two of you don’t mind, I would like to get to the Council before they send out a search party to look for us, or before I die of old age whichever comes first,” said Delsani, appearing just behind Helen.

“Somehow I think the latter might come before the former,” joked the King.

This made his wife snigger.

Delsani on the other hand said nothing; he merely smiled.

From there, they walked on along a grey corridor that displayed a number of openings to either side of them.

“Delsani, you said that you would tell us why Wizard-Elves have those strange eyes,” said Helen.

“It’s because of the Dragon blood that flows though their veins’ said Delsani. “Thoucil’s great grandfather, King Basan, fought at one of the greatest battles between Salith and the alliance of the six races and was critically injured. He lost a lot of blood, and it was the silver scaled Dragon, Lanisic, that gave the King some of his blood in order to save him, not knowing of course the consequences of his act, for Basan healed very quickly and found that he was stronger and faster than ever. Although when Thoucil was born, her mixture of Dragon, Wizard, and Elf blood that made her blood the most magical of all. This gave her an energy and unique abilities. And the eyes, like the ears and marks on the wrist, are all aberrations caused by the mixture of three of the most magical races in Dorminya.”

They had reached the end of the hall where there were more steps. Helen counted them. There were exactly ten. At the top of the steps was a slender bridge, wide enough for at least four people. Running down the walls at either side of the walkway were two thin waterfalls that led to nothing but a deep dark drop below.

Helen stayed in the middle of the bridge; Delsani was now on her left and John on her right. She found herself looking at the waterfalls, wondering where the water was coming from, for they were five floors up. When they were almost halfway over the bridge, Helen took the lead and was almost across when she turned to see were the others were. She saw that John’s wand was about to fall out of his right trouser pocket. It was hanging by only a thread.

“JOHN YOUR WAND!” she shouted.

The Wizard-Elf reached down, but just before he could grasp it, it fell. He leaned over and stretched out to catch it but lost his balance and fell off the bridge. Helen saw it all as though in slow motion. However, to her complete and utter surprise, John did not fall too far. In fact, it looked to Helen that he had hit ground. He stood up and picked up his wand and continued as if nothing had occurred.

Helen was standing there with her hands over her mouth, and although she was naturally pale, she was now as white as a sheet with her hands and very arms quivering.

“What’s wrong?” asked John.

“I thought you were going to fall down there,” said Helen with a twinge of distress still in her voice.

“You can’t fall down there. It’s just an illusion,” said John tapping his foot on the invisible ground. When he said that, her color started to return though her hands continued to rattle.

They proceeded to walk across the rest of the bridge.

“Why is the illusion there?” she asked.

“There’s no real reason for it, but it looks better than an ordinary dark dank room, don’t you think?” said a strange voice.

“I think so,” said John.

Helen spun round to see who else was there, but she saw no one.

“What is it?” asked John.

“Who were you agreeing with?”

“Me,” said a man’s grainy voice.

“I, too, agree completely. You should have seen it before they put the illusion there,’ said a younger, smoother man’s voice.

“Oh terrible, terrible,” said a young woman’s voice.

“Yes terrible,” said another woman.

“Who’s saying that?” asked Helen.

“Turn around, Normal; we’re right here,” said the first voice.

Helen turned to face the wall closest to her, and there on a shelf carved into the stone were four head statuettes, two male, two female, two young, and two old.

“Be careful what you say. Need I remind you that this is the new King and his Queen?” said Delsani sternly.

“So you are King Jastark. Ha! Ha! I knew it! Didn’t I always say that there was something special about that boy?” asked the older male statue with the grainy voice.

“Yes, it’s true, and I would like to think so, too, after all the times we helped with his homework,” said the younger male.

“Who...what are you?” asked Helen inquisitively.

They all looked at the young woman intensely.

“Well, have you ever! After all the times we helped him, he’s never even mentioned us. There’s gratitude for you,” said the older female’

“We are representations of the first of four Wizards and Witches to liberate these towers from the Dark Lord who once lived here,” said the elder male, not paying attention to his compatriot, “As for who we are, or should I say were. The name’s Anret, nice to meet you.”

“My name is Gerov,” said the elder female statue.

“Salonuith,” said the young male.

“Cajui is the name,” said the younger female, bowing her head a little, which almost tipped her over in the process, but she quickly caught her balance again.

“Well, you know ours,” said Anret, “so I ask you, fair Queen, what is your name?”

“Helen.”

“What a beautiful Normal name,” Salonuith said sarcastically.

The younger female statue sniggered.

“Hail Queen Helen of the Normals,” said Salonuith.

“That’s enough out of you!” said Delsani furiously.

The statue threw the Wizard a disgusted look, as though he had just tried to eat a jar of raw pickles.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it, Delsani,” said Helen.

“Helen’s right. Besides, the statue of Salonuith was made when he was a young Ves-Guard, before he turned dark,” John assured Delsani. “He helped me out more times than I can count when I was alone in this place, and I never would’ve made it through history class without them all.”

“Fine, but I will never trust it, never as long as I live,” said the old Wizard.

“For your information,” said Salonuith, sounding clearly upset, “I am not, nor have I ever been. The one of which you speak, so I would appreciate it if you never address me as he ever again.”

“We should move on,” said Delsani, ignoring the last remark made by that statuette. And on they went. The passageway curved off to the left, and then they came to yet three more doors. Delsani and John walked toward the middle door, closely followed by Helen. Delsani opened door and waited until John and Helen were through. Then they began to walk down yet another long dark corridor. Helen noticed that there was only one torch, which was floating just in front of them. It seemed dimmer than the others she had seen. They could only see about five paces ahead. But with every pace they took. The light moved forward as the torch led them all the way. This did not seem to bother Delsani or John, so Helen said nothing of it.

The corridor bent round to the right. Then they passed on through a door again on the right. The torch did not follow them through the door, as that place was well lit. They walked straight then turned left and did not go far before they came to another set of double doors. These doors were very large and were also made of stone, but instead of being grey. They were blue. On the left door, there was an eight-point star, which was one of the most common signs of the Elves. On the right door was also an illustration of a full moon, a common sign of the Wizards.

Sometimes these signs were placed together as a symbol of their friendship. There was also a thick stone arch above the doors and on it; it had letters, which were in the Wizard and Elven languages that read:

Speak the name of the council member you know. And the doors will tell if you are friend or foe.

Delsani took out his wand, stepped toward the doors and tapped the wand on the moon door. “Jaucal,” he said in a foreboding voice, naming the Grand Wizard, the head of the Wizard Councils. Nothing happened at first, though when he pointed at the doors with his right index finger. They began to open slowly.

Helen could have sworn that she felt the floor beneath her feet shake, though she could not tell for sure.

“Helen, you’ll have to stay out here,” said John.

“Why?” the woman asked, disappointed.

“The only ones allowed in the Council Chamber during a meeting have to have a special invitation,” said John.

“And as you decided to come at the last moment, the doors will not admit you,” said Delsani. “I am sorry”

John took his wand out of his back trouser pocket. He pointed it at one of the many chairs in the Council Chamber.

“What are you doing?” asked Delsani.

“I’m getting Helen a chair,” answered John.

“You don’t need your wand for that John,” said Delsani, suddenly snatching it from him. “You’re a Wizard-Elf, which means you can use your mind if you concentrate hard enough.”

“Try it,” said Helen enthusiastically.

John looked at the chair, held out his right hand toward it and in his mind he pictured the chair moving from where it was to the wall beside him. But nothing happened.

“You’re not concentrating hard enough,” said Delsani.

John concentrated harder, and this time with more than just the picture in his mind. Seopten, he thought, which is the word for chair or seat in the Wizard language. The chair vanished from the table it once inhabited and reappeared in front of the wall as he had commanded.

They could hear raised voices coming from within the chamber beyond; it was two of the leaders of the other races. “The chair disappeared,” said one.

“Yes, it was there, but now it’s gone,” said another.

They both sounded very agitated.

Suddenly John felt a burning pain on his right wrist. When he inspected it, he saw two red marks. The mark on the right looked like a four-point star, which most likely came from the Elven side of him. The second mark was diagonally down to the left and looked like a half moon.

“What’s wrong?” asked Helen.

“My wrist,” replied John.

“A four point star and a half moon,” said Delsani.

“Yes,” said John, ‘I’ve got a feeling there’s something else you forgot to tell me old friend.”

“This I did not forget,” said Delsani. “For Wizard-Elves bear those two signs. Other than the eyes and ears, that is probably the only way of telling Wizard-Elves from ordinary Wizards, as you’ve probably heard me say before.”

“Yeah, I think you did say something about it. But why didn’t you tell me more?” asked John.

“At the time I thought it best to tell you later, which I shall do now. Thoucil and Dragdani asked the Wizard Council to keep it secret. I don’t know why, but they both wore a leather armband to cover their right wrists,” said the old Wizard.

There was a short silence.

“We should go now, John; the council is waiting,” said Delsani.

“I can get someone to show you to our room if you don’t want to wait,” John said to his wife.

“No, I’m fine,” replied Helen quickly.

“This could be a long wait Helen,” said the Wizard-Elf.

“Or it could be a short wait,” said the woman.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” said John.

“Yes, it is,” said Helen. “You’d better go.”

John leaned forward and kissed his beautiful wife. Then he turned on his heel and he and Delsani walked into the Council Chamber. As soon as they were past the doors, they quickly and abruptly slammed shut.

It was at least two hours before the Council and their guests finished their meeting.

By this time Helen had fallen asleep. John gently woke her. “It’s time for lunch,” he said.

“What time is it?” she asked sleepily.

“Ten past one,” said John. “We better hurry; they’re all waiting.”

“I must’ve fallen asleep,” said Helen.

“Yeah, you did, and you were snoring.”

Helen turned scarlet with this information.

“It wasn’t my fault. The chair was far too comfortable. It made me doze off,” said Helen, not at all amused, “Where are we having lunch?” she asked, trying to change the subject. She succeeded.

“They eat lunch in the Council Chamber, of course.”

“Wait a minute,” said Helen. “I thought you said that I’m not allowed in there because I’m not invited?”

“That was only because there was a meeting being held,” said John. “Now the Grand Wizard has invited us to lunch.”

“Well, excuse me,” said Helen in a mock voice as she stuck her nose in the air. John gave out a small laugh. Then he and his wife walked arm in arm through the doors and into the room. Within, the ceiling was quite high. There were six tables but only four were occupied. The tables were long and curved. All together they made a circle and were each spaced a meter apart.

The two tables in front of the doors were empty. The other four were all half full, with each holding eight people.

To the right of John and Helen were the Wizards, and among them was the ambassador of the Council of Witchcraft, the Warlock, Lenfad. The Council of Witchcraft sent him so he could report everything that was discussed in the meeting and allow a decision to be made by the Supreme Witch in concern to the subject of that very meeting. The reason that the Warlock was seated among the Wizards was because Witches and Wizards are of the same race; the only difference is that some of their beliefs differ in certain areas of magic.

John and Helen walked over to the Wizard table to sit between Delsani and the Grand Wizard, Jaucal. To the right of the Wizards were the Elves; next to them were the Dwarves, and then the Men of the Morden.

Behind the Men appeared another door, which was not as big as the others they had just entered. Then the smaller door opened and some Wizards came out of the next room, which appeared to be a kitchen. They were carrying platters of food. The men were served food first, since they were the closest; the Dwarves were served second, then the Elves, and then the Wizard.

Halfway through his meal, Delsani got up from his chair went to the Grand Wizard Jaucal and proceeded to whisper in his ear. Jaucal looked up at him and then over at John. It seemed that whatever Delsani said had caught his complete attention. Jaucal then whispered back to Delsani, who nodded. The Grand Wizard called to one of the Wizards serving the wine. He talked with him and the Wizard put the pitcher of wine he held down in front of Jaucal and quickly walked out of the room.

After lunch, the guests were taken four floors up to a narrow corridor. The walls were blue (as was most of that tower), and there were pictures, some small, some large, and mostly of people, but there were pictures of many other things associated with both Dorminya and the Normal world. As they walked, they also saw doors that were only a meter apart. They were the doors of the guestrooms.

The guests were shown to the doors of the rooms they had been assigned to, and then shown the rooms themselves. John and Helen were taken to John’s old room, which had been specially cleansed for their arrival. Helen saw little letters in the Wizard language on their room door. “What does it say John?” she asked.

“It’s my name,” replied John. “My real name.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled a small brass key. There was no keyhole to be seen; John put his hand on the letters on the door. Light covered the letters and travelled down the door. When it stopped, the light dispersed and a keyhole appeared. John put the key in the lock and turned it. There was a click, and the whole door, like the name, was covered in light and then vanished.

Helen could see lights and distorted colors in the room ahead.

John walked straight into the room without hesitation. “Come on in, Helen,” he said. Helen thought his voice sounded muffled. She slowly started toward the doorway as if unsure of what might happen, for too many strange things had happened and were still happening, all too quickly for her liking.

When she walked through the doorway, the blurry light began to come into focus and things were beginning to take shape. She saw that the room she was in was very large. “How can the room be so big? Wait let me guess it’s all an illusion,” she said trying to sound unimpressed by the place.

“No,” said John, “The room’s real. The corridor’s the illusion.”

“I’ll never get used to this” said Helen.

“Probably not,” said John with a smile. He thought the situation was great; he knew all of the tricks and secrets of the tower and the rest of the Wizard and Witch world.

“Why are there so many illusions?” asked Helen.

“Well, you see Wizards hate the thought of living Normal lives, or even to think that they might have Normal lives,” said John, “so they create up illusions to make their lives as abnormal as they like.”

I guess that makes sense, thought Helen.

John was standing at the left side of the bed, which was twice the size of their King-sized bed back home. At the head of the bed, at either side, were two long windows that looked out in the direction of Cayer-Huld. John stood peering out of the one on his side and he found himself wondering if the city he had loved and missed for so long had changed.

While the Wizard-Elf continued to stare blankly out across the land, Helen was taking a look around. The walls of the room were a light red color, and on them were V-shaped torches that were evenly spaced throughout the room, with blue flames dancing on the both stems of the V’s. The floor was made of stone and looked like ash, and there were two fireplaces, one to the left of the door, and the other at the opposite end of the room. And in them the fires were full and high with Normal yellow, red, and orange flames, which surprised Helen greatly. She half expected the flames to be blue, or purple, or some other color, maybe even multicolored.

Helen realized that though there were two fireplaces, the room was not hot. In fact the temperature of the room was nice. Helen wandered about it. “Shouldn’t it be warmer in here? I mean, with two raging fires.”

“Well, yeah, it should be warmer with two Normal raging fires, but those fires aren’t Normal. They don’t give off any heat,” replied John. “It’s the floor that does that.”

“The floor? But I can’t feel any heat off of the floor,” said his wife as she looked down at her track shoes.

“It’s not roasting hot. There’s just a little bit of heat. If you take off your shoes, you should be able to feel it.”

“Are you sure that the ground won’t swallow me whole, or teleport me to an alternate dimension?” asked Helen jokily.

John laughed. “No,” he said, “Just a little heat that’s all. Trust me.”

“If only I could,” said Helen.

John had a sly grin on his face.

Helen took off her right track shoe and hesitated. Then slowly she set her bare foot on to the floor, and true enough, she could feel a smidgen of heat coming from the floor. She took her left shoe off and decided to walk around the room barefoot, for it felt very soothing. “Is there a bathroom nearby?” she asked.

John was standing with his hands over his mouth and was breathing hard into them as if they were a gas mask. “Can’t you just put those monsters away so I can breathe again?” asked John funnily.

“Very funny, smart arse. You know sometimes I wonder why I ever married you,” Helen teased, clearly not at all amused.

“I thought it was for my fantastic good looks, brilliant personality, and great wit,” said John, holding his head back and chin up amusingly.

“Whatever. Now tell me is there a bathroom? I need to pee,” said his wife.

“Yes, over there,” replied John. He was pointing to the wall opposite him, but there was no doorway.

“Where is it?”

John walked over to the wall and put his arm through it.

“Here. The reason you can’t see it is because I put a spell on it.”

“You put a spell on your bathroom?”

“Just on the door, to hide it,” said John.

“But why would you?”

“I did it because once when I was out on a date, my friends, knowing we would be coming back here, thought that it would be funny to hide an Orslat in the bathroom and let it stink out the place.”

“What’s an Orslat?” asked Helen.

“It’s a very smelly creature,” said John. “It’s something like a skunk, although it doesn’t spray. The smell comes from its skin, and it’s about a hundred times worse. So after their little stunt, I moved the bathroom from that end of the room to this end and put a spell on the door.”

At this point, Helen was laughing to herself.

“Yeah, they thought it was funny too,” said John.

“It’s not that. It’s the part where you said your friends used that Orslat thing to stink out your bathroom,” replied Helen.

“Yeah, and?”

“It’s just that you don’t normally need any help in that department.” She could no longer control her laughter as tears ran down her face.

John grabbed one of the pillows off the bed and threw it at her. She caught it and threw it straight back. She then ran to where John put his arm through the wall.

“Where is it again?” she asked crossing her legs. Just then her hand went through the wall. “It’s okay, I’ve found it.” Helen put each of her hands at either side of the doorway.

“Say ‘lock’ if you want the door to lock, and say ‘open’ when you what to come out again,” said John just before she stepped through. She was not in the toilet long when John saw her reappear.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

“Well, now that you’ve most likely stunk out the toilet, we wait until Delsani comes to take me to start my training,” said John.

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” said Helen, and then stuck out her tongue at him.

John, who was sitting on the bed merely said, “Revenge.”

They waited at least three and a half hours before Delsani came. He gently knocked on the door. “It’s time John.”

John and Helen got up together and followed the old Wizard. He did not lead them to the training room; instead they went back the way they came when they arrived, back to the entrance hall. When they got there, they saw that the Wizard Council and the Council of Witchcraft were there. All of the Witches and Wizards that worked in the towers were also there, as well as young Wizards and Witches from the Wizard Colleges, and the Witch Schools of both Cites, who had all come to see their new King and Queen.

“Why are all these people here?” asked John.

Delsani smiled “They’re here because the Grand Wizard wishes to present you with a couple of things that are yours through birthright.”

Jaucal stepped forward, and to John’s surprise, around the fingers of the Wizard’s right hand was Dragdani’s Dragon. Once again it was hanging from a thin black rope.

In Jaucal’s left hand was the Sword of Light, Yeluilat. The Elves had brought it with them so it could be given to the last living heir of Dragdani.

John stepped toward the Grand Wizard.

“Lord Jastark. The Wizards Council and the Council of Witchcraft have decided that as you are the rightful King, you shall be the new bearer of Dragdani’s Dragon and the sword Yeluilat, which once belonged to your ancestor, King Dragdani,” said Jaucal. “So with no further delay, in front of all of these witnesses I present you with the symbol of Dragdani himself.” John bowed his head to receive it, and Jaucal put the necklace around his neck. “May your life and rein be long, my friend,” said the old Wizard.

“Thank you,” said John.

“Now if you would all like to make your way to the dining hall for something to eat,” said Delsani, motioning his hand in the direction of the dining room.

A feast was held in the dining hall, which was one of the largest rooms that Helen had ever seen. The walls were grey. Long rectangle tables ran along the left wall, around the wall at the far end of the hall, and back down the right wall again. Other smaller tables were placed in the heart of the massive room, and it seemed every chair at every table had an occupant. As Helen continued to look about, she saw that halfway up the four walls that made the room ran a border of gold. The border had depictions on it, but she couldn’t see what they were from where she sat.

She continued to scan the room, and again her eyes fell on the large silver statues she had seen as she entered the room. There were ten in all that were sitting on ledges set just below the golden border. Four of the statues were on one side of the room, four opposite them, and the last two also facing each other, one above the entrance and the other at the far end of the room. These were the largest of all the ten, one a Witch and the other a Wizard. Helen found herself staring at the one of the old Wizard. He was dressed in long robes, and in his left hand he held what looked like a page of parchment. In his right was an old pointed hat.

Just as Helen went to look back at her plate, the statue winked at her and then smiled. She looked at the others all around the room, and like the first, some winked, others smiled, a few waved and mouthed hello, and last but certainly not least. The male Witch above the entrance, after seeing the dazed look on the young woman’s face, let out a loud robust laugh that filled the hall and made some of the other people in room jump, so much so that it sent more than a few forks, food and all, flying through the air. Most of them landed on other tables and even other plates.

Delsani, John, and Helen left early. They were not really that hungry after the big lunch they eaten only hours before. Besides, Delsani wanted to start John’s training as soon as possible.

There were only mats on the floor of the training room; there were no special devices or anything else that one might expect to find in such a room.

“How are you going to train me?” John asked. “You said I’m the first Wizard- Elf you’ve ever seen.”

“I will use this to train you,” said Delsani as he held up a folder. It was brown with a clip in the shape of Dragdani’s Dragon locking it down tight.

“What is it?” asked Helen.

“In this folder are the instructions that Thoiucil gave to Dragdani when she was training him. Dragdani’s father wrote it all down.”

John nodded, clapped loudly, rubbed his hands together and said. “Fine, let’s get started.”

Helen sat down at the end of one of the mats while Delsani and John got ready to start.

By the end of the day, John had done very well and learned how to use a few of his abilities, even if it did mean redecorating most of the room and replacing some of the weapons that lined the walls, not to mention one of the four wooden chandlers that formerly hung from the ceiling.

John and Helen said goodnight to the old Wizard before heading back to their room. John felt confident that he could remember the way. It was quite late; there was not a soul to be seen in any of the corridors. They could hear a rough wind bellowing outside as they walked, but nothing else was to be heard except their own footsteps on the stone floor. When they got to their room, they went straight to bed, as they had an early start the next morning.

Chapter Three

The Light of Yeluilat

Two years went flying by, and John being a very fast learner, had finished his training, or at least finished what was in the folder. Whatever else he would learn must come from experience, which he knew well enough.

During his free time, the Wizard-Elf had talked to most of his old friends, but only most, because not all of the old gang survived the fourteen years of waiting. Two had lived their dreams of being Ves-guards and had great adventures, which they loved to tell all who would be willing to hear. Unfortunately, in the end they paid a heavy price for those dreams and adventures, as they died within just two days of each other.

The first was Veris, the very talented Wicca. She was killed while trying to hold the bridge of the fifth waters, which is on the very boarders of their own country Opredanas. The second, Jebut, died only a day before John and Helen arrived in Dorminya. He was killed from behind while trying to defend one of the many colonies close to the boarders.

John was devastated to hear the terrible news, and although he hadn’t seen them in seven years, he mourned for them greatly, his old dear friends.

When he wasn’t reminiscing with old friends, he was showing Helen the Wizard and Witch World. He had taken her to Cayer-Huld, their largest City where most of the Wizards, Wiccas, and Warlocks live and work. He also took her to Rengeral Training College for Apprentice Wizards, and even to Hadfold’s School of Witchcraft, where the young Wiccas and Warlocks go to hone their powers. Helen was not surprised to see that there wasn’t much of a difference between the two.

She loved living there and had no problem expressing it. She told everyone, and she certainly had no intentions in ever leaving again. Though she liked being Queen, she knew that one-day the true reason why they left their Normal lives behind would catch them up. It worried her beyond all reason day and night, even after all of the reassurances from their friends old and new. She still couldn’t forget all she had been told. She remembered John’s words to her after she saw there were only four representatives of the six main races of Dorminya at the council meeting the first day they arrived. She had wandered why. When asked by his wife, John simply said, “It’ll only worry you as it does me.”

Not satisfied with his reply, she pressed and pressed at him until he finally gave in and told all.

“The reason there were only representatives from four of the main kingdoms of Dorminya (which were Dwarves, Elves, Wizards and Witches, and the Men of the Morden) was because the Eagle-Men of Kealhal were secretly attacked, overthrown and wiped out by Ulicoth’s army and by Kilamen,” he told her.

It was John that had found out what had happened, for he had befriended the immortal Wolf Demala, although he did not fully trust the talking Wolf, as he had heard of the terrible crimes he had committed while in his human form. Although mistrustful, the King could not very well ignore this terrible information. So he had the claims of his new friend investigated and had found the terrible tragedy to be true.

The mistrust John had felt toward the once-dark Wolf lifted a little, though he still knew to be wary of him, for it was well known that the Wolf had once worked under Salith himself for the promise of release from the curse that bounds him to that eternal body. The truth of the matter is that Demala had not always been a Wolf. He was once a man and nephew to the King of the once-powerful land of Phadkew.

By the time the Wolf had told John the news of the Eagle-Men, it was too late. Only a handful of the giant eagles survived, but unfortunately they moved to the unmapped lands and have not been seen since.

When all was finally realized, letters were sent to those the Wizards and Witches considered potential allies, and all agreed to meet. All, of course, but the Men of the Tarlonal in the land of Frepwen, who had all vowed to never be involved in anything that the Morden were involved in. For they have been mortal enemies for many a year and would kill their cousins before lifting a single finger to help them?

At the Towers of Telian, the council of the four races held yet another meeting, and this time Helen was invited. She had taken an active role in all council meetings and enjoyed doing so. At the end of this meeting the council had decided that the time had come to bring their forces together.

“Finally, we will attack the fortress of Wulfed and rid the world of the evil of Ulicoth and Kilamen,” said the Dwarf lord, Eiaten.

It took only sixteen days for everyone to arrive. For the armies of the four races had been on standby for two whole years.

The Elves were the first to arrive, closely followed by the Dwarves, and together they waited with the Wizards and Witches for the men to arrive. They did not have to wait very long, as the men were not far behind the Dwarves, who themselves had run all the way from the great city of Eiaten, which is located under the Twin Mountains of Duilsan. The Dwarf city was named after the Lord of those mountains and was the largest of their empire.

Taden, Eiaten’s cousin, was stationed on the second balcony of the right tower. He was not the only one there, as there were two Wizards and an Elf as well.

One could be forgiven for thinking that all were there purely out of friendship, but as always. There was an alternative reason. The Wizards came simply because the building belonged to them. The Elf was there out of helpfulness. As his sight was better than the others, it seemed right for him to be there. Last of all the Dwarf was there, funnily enough, simply because the others were there.

Eiaten, seeing that the Elf was allowed to stand and look, thought that it was only fair and that one of his own be allowed there too. Everyone wondered why Taden was there, for all knew that a Dwarf’s sight is very limited, and he couldn’t possibly see what he needed to, but John saw no harm in Eiaten’s little game and let the Dwarf stay where he was, simply because he knew that Eiaten would love to have an excuse to start something on that day in particular. So there the four stood looking for any sign of the men.

There was moistness in the air that day, and a light fog rolled along sluggishly. The grassy land was saturated after the downpour the night before, though the sky was clear, apart from little puffs of white cloud gently floating past. And although the sun was high in the sky, the trees of the forest behind the Towers made it impossible to see if there was anyone moving their way until they would clear the tree line.

“What do you see cousin?” shouted Eiaten.

“Nothing yet,” replied Taden.

The Elf, Avelan, who was the brother of Feudel, the master of the great Elven City of Haludon, had caught sight of something with his keen eyes. There were five figures moving closer to their position.

“THERE ARE FIVE OBJECTS COMING OUR WAY!” he shouted to those below.

“Where are they? I don’t see anything,” said Taden as he looked to the edge of the forest.

“Not there, Taden. There,” said Avelan. He pointed to five dots in the sky moving ever closer to them.

“Yes,” said Taden, “now I see them.” But to him they were faint fuzzy blurs.

John rushed to the balcony he jumped straight on to it from the ground. “Where are they, Avelan?” he asked.

“There,” said the Elf as he pointed to them again.

“It’s all right,” said Delsani, who was standing below them. “They’re Wiccas and Warlocks whom the Council of Witchcraft sent to us. They decided they don’t want to be left in the dark, so they’re sending some of their most talented people to join us.”

Helen wanted to see what everyone up there found so fascinating. “What’s going on?” she asked as she came up behind the old Wizard.

“They can see the Witches who were sent by the Council of Witchcraft, that’s all.”

John was looking straight ahead. He saw something reflecting sunlight in the distance. He realized it was the Morden just about to enter the opposite end of the forest. His eyes seemed to be as keen as Avelan’s, as the edge of the forest was two miles away. “The men are coming,” he shouted. “I can see them.”

Avelan looked, and he too could see them.

By this time, everyone could see the Witches as they came closer. They could also see that they were riding broomsticks. This offended some of the older members of the Wizard’s Council, for they had banned Wizards from using broomsticks, which they deemed too dangerous. But the younger Wizards found it fascinating, for the law was passed just before their time, so it was to them a rare treat.

As the Witches came into plain view, they sped up and now were coming in to land. When they had landed, the Council of the Four Races greeted them. There were two Wiccas and three Warlocks.

The Warlock ambassador, Lenwer, then spoke to the Witches in their own language, which greatly pleased them.

“Thank you for that greeting” said one of the Wiccas, who seemed to be the leader of the five. But she spoke in the common tongue for all to hear.

John (who had climbed down from the balcony) and Helen recognized the Wicca and the Warlock standing next to her as their friends Joan and Harry. “I am Saren,” said the Wicca. “And this is my husband, Henkot. Our other companions are Kerfuz, Senom, and my niece, Molnet,” she said as she pointed them out. They all nodded at each other one after the other.

“Don’t you think your niece a little young to go?” said Lenwer looking to the girl before him.

“Trust me when I say that she’s one of the most talented Wiccas I have ever known,” said Saren, who then saw Helen and John staring blankly at both her and her husband. “Hello,” she said to them.

“All this time you pretended to be our friends, and what you were really doing was spying on us,” said John taking a guess. He shot a stern look at one and then the other in turn.

“We sent them with no intention of spying, John,” said the Grand Wizard. “Delsani and I did, however, ask the Council of Witchcraft to lend us two of their people stationed in the Normal World to befriend you and help you. We knew that you would be alone. We only wanted you to have friends to turn to, in case you fell on hard times, that’s all. We had no intentions to spy.”

“We didn’t want to lie to you,” said Henkot. “We had no choice. We couldn’t disobey the Council of Witchcraft out of fear that they might have taken our licenses, which would mean that we could not go back to the Normal World.

“We didn’t know you back then. To us you were just a mission, but through the years that changed, and now the both of you are our closest and most trusted friends.”

We hope that you’ll forgive us,” said Saren. “We never spied on either of you. The only time we told them anything about you was when Delsani told us who you really were.”

John was calmer now, but still angry. He glanced at Helen as if to look for support, but she just stood there silent. The truth was she didn’t care that they had lied; she was just happy that they were there.

“We should have been informed of this,” said Galfad angrily. Galfad was the Council member who persuaded the other members to sign a petition to expel John from the order, to feed the personal hatred that he felt toward him.

“But we didn’t want you to know,” said Delsani with a certain amount of satisfaction in his voice. “That was why we asked for two Witches rather than two Wizards.”

Galfad looked furiously at Delsani, but said nothing.

For things had changed in the Wizard world. The power that the Council once held had been handed back to the Grand Wizard, which was as it used to be in the old days. The reason for the change was because the Wizards lost confidence in the Council after a few bad decisions, the worst, of course, being that they all signed the petition that got rid of their future King, though they didn’t know that at that time.

Numerous complaints from members of the Wizards Council still loyal to deputy Grand Wizard, Galfad (to give him his full title) followed, but were soon shot down by Jaucal and his own loyalists. After the short debate, the Witches were asked to trade in their broomsticks for horses, and they were more than pleased to do so.

An hour after the Dwarves had marched in, the Men made their extraordinary appearance in the thousands. First came the drummers, then the flag bearers, the archers, the foot soldiers, and lastly the cavalry, all wearing neatly polished suits of armor. There armor was silver, as were their helmets, and it was like the knights of the old stories. At the top of their helms were short, red-feathered blooms that curved a little near the tip. And just above the slits for their eyes was the emblem of yellow flames surrounding a green sun, which was also on their breastplates, only larger. On their gauntlets were spikes at the knuckles. Their elbows also had one large spike each. Their shoulders each had a plate with a red line running along their edge, and sitting on top were three small spikes. Their knees held one spike each, as did the tips of their shoes. They were truly a magnificent sight to be seen, even without their King, for he had sent his youngest son to lead his troops. The youngster, to be truthful, had only ever fought small skirmishes rather than any large battles, though to be fair he had won every one he had ever taken part in.

One might wonder why the Wizards and Witches didn’t just Phaze them all to their destination. The main reason was that Phazes can be detected, and although there is a fair chance that they would be successful. The Grand Wizard deemed it too risky. Not mention the Men and Dwarves, who were none too pleased with that idea and were not afraid to voice their opinions. So for secrecy and to keep the peace, they were going the old-fashioned way.

Before John got on to his horse he gave Helen a letter.

“Hold on to this,” he said. “Only read it if I don’t make it back.”

Helen could not believe what her ears were hearing. Never before had she heard him speak of his possible death.

“I don’t need it,” she said, “because you’re coming back.”

John threw his arms around her, and she embraced him in return with a peck on the lips and then the cheek.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back,” said John.

Helen nodded but said nothing. John’s words had unnerved her wholly.

They set off as soon as all were ready. Those on horses walked them, to keep in line with the infantry and all of the Dwarves on foot. They went on for the remaining hours of the day, which were long and sometimes seemed never-ending. They only stopped a few times here and there too let their foot soldiers and horses rest for very brief periods of time.

They went on into the early hours of the following day and had reached the border of the lands of Opredanas. They would soon be entering the land of Humrock, were the old tunes can be heard far and wide within the borders of that land, hummed by those chosen humming rocks of century’s past.

“Can’t we go around Humrock, Delsani?” asked Eiaten hastily.

“No,” replied Delsani flatly. “To do so would double the time of our journey, and time is something that we cannot afford to waste.”

“Don’t worry, Eiaten,” said one of the Elves. “If you like we shall sing you a song.”

“That is something that I for one could do without,” Eiaten grumbled.

John and most of the Elves laughed, for their keen hearing had heard his words.

They had just past the thin border between the two lands and they could already hear the rocks humming ahead. They were at least halfway through and set up a small temporary camp to rest for what was left of the twilight hours.

The Elves, Wizards, Witches, Men, and even Dwarves were all enjoying the tunes. The Elves were singing as the Elf, Tuberel, said they would. Some of the Wizards were singing lightly, so they could not be heard over the Elves, for the Elf voices were loud and fair, especially compared to the voices of most of their companions.

“What’s the matter, Eiaten?” shouted Tuberel. “Can you not sing and be merry?”

“I can indeed,” replied the Dwarf lord. “However, I have put my mind to other more important things. Besides, if we put down our guard, you could put a spell on us and we would not even know it.”

Suddenly the singing stopped, for word of the insult spread like wildfire.

“I see,” said the Elf, “We’re not good enough to sing with but good enough to fight and perhaps even die with.” Tuberel said this without the look or sound of offence in anyway. In fact, he was still laughing. “If I were you, my dear Dwarf, I would sleep with one eye open. For I am sure you have offended at least a few of these good people, and they may decide to bewitch you to share your voice with the rest of us. So for all our sakes, please be careful.”

Suddenly all of the Elves, Wizards, Witches, and Men burst into fits of pure laughter when Tuberel had finished.

Eiaten, on the other hand, was furious with the Elf. The rest of the Dwarves looked worried, as they thought that the Elf spoke true. And the last thing that they wanted was for Eiaten to be under any sort of wicked spell.

They retired to their tents for some rest. All accept some of the Elves that had stayed up for most of the night.

They did not get to the land of Kealhal until the fourth day. The sky was clear but the land was shady. They all knew that it was the shadow of Salith, for only it was strong enough to dull the beautiful rays of the sun itself, which had just begun to set in front of them. What little light had broken through was fading fast. It was then that they had got their first view of the Macshelc Mountains, but because of the sun, it looked more like a shadow itself.

Delsani took a long look at the land before them and remembered the last time he was there. There were fond memories of that once beautiful land, which then was rich with all sorts of life. The grass and wild trees and rare plants were the finest and brightest of any land that he had ever seen, but no more, for now there was nothing but darkness. And all of the things that Delsani had seen were now dry, shriveled, and dead. He could swear that the stench of death was all around them in that dead place. They rode on for a little longer and then set up camp behind Veuguil forest at least two miles away from any enemy patrol.

“We should get whatever we need for the assault on the fortress ready.” said John.

“We’ll have to make our plan of attack,” said Delsani.

He turned to the young Wizard that was standing next to John.

“Euol, please inform the leaders of the other races that we will be holding a meeting.” Suddenly he stopped. “Where will we hold the meeting, John?” he asked.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but what about the tent the men are setting up?” said Euol.

“Tent,” said Delsani, surprised. He turned round and there it was a large white tent almost ready to be raised.

“Those fools! What in the name of hell do they think they’re doing?” said the old Wizard angrily. They ran over to the area of the not quite finished tent.

“Where is Prince Bacnil?” asked Delsani of one of the men holding a rope, as they started to raise the tent.

“The Prince left orders that he was not to be disturbed,” said the man fearfully. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes,” said Delsani, ‘there’s something you can do. You can tell me where to find the Prince. Or I could always make you tell me. It’s your choice.”

The man hesitated, but then Delsani reached into his pocket and swiftly took out his wand.

“He’s round the back seeing to the work being done there,” said the man, his voice shaking. The Wizards could hear the pure fear as the poor man spoke.

John was surprised at his old friend; it was unlike the Wizard to threaten anyone in that way.

They went around the side of the tent. There were many men, but Delsani recognized Prince Bacnil. The seventeen-year-old boy was the third and youngest son of Leroih, the King of the men of the eastern plains, commonly known as the Morden.

The young prince stood watching the progress; he had a baby face, wavy long black hair, and was as thin as a rake. John actually thought he looked anorexic. And in the opinion of most of the Wizards, Elves, and Dwarves, he looked much too young and green to be leading anyone into battle. Yet the men seemed to have faith in him and his abilities, or perhaps they had no choice. After all he was their Prince.

“I’m not sure that putting up this tent is a good idea,” said Delsani to the young man, “as it may be seen.”

“I think we’re a safe distance away from any danger,” said the Prince in his childlike voice.

“Is that so?” said the Wizard. Delsani then walked forward until he was at the edge of the forest. “Well. Then, I would ask you to draw your attention to the cleft yonder.” the Wizard was now pointing far across the extensive field before him. When Bacnil followed the Wizard’s steps and looked, he could see a dark cliff standing tall and proud.

“Well, can you see it?” asked Delsani.

“Yes, I can see it,” replied Bacnil.

“And would you say that if the tent was up and you were standing on that cliff, you might be able to see the very top of it?”

For a few seconds the Prince stood there staring at the cliff. He turned and looked at the tent, which was almost fully up. “Take the tent down,” he said to the closest man to him.

It was at this time John noticed that the clear sky had gone and a black cloud was hovering overhead. His eyes turned green again, and he walked until he was clear of the trees and then looked toward the fortress. He zoomed in on it and could see that one of the doors high up on the left tower was open, but only because he could see a very dim light coming from inside. He zoomed in further on the door and could see a balcony, and on it he could see two dark figures standing there. He could see that they, too, had Dragon eyes. He could also see the color of their eyes, which shone like four beacons in the darkness of that forsaken land. The eyes of the figure to John’s right were purple, and the other set of eyes of the figure to his left were yellow. John knew that the purple eyes belonged to Ulicoth, and that the yellow eyes belonged to Kilamen, for this he had read in the scrolls of Thoucil, which she had written after her first encounter with them.

John became aware of a very faint pounding noise. He thought that it sounded like marching, as though whatever it was coming his way. He also noticed that he could feel a slight tremble in the ground. He zoomed out, but he could see nothing in front of him.

Delsani then came over to him. “What’s wrong, Jastark?” he asked.

“They know we’re here,” replied the King, “and there’s something else, I can hear what sounds like an army marching this way, but there’s nothing there.”

“This land has been claimed by Ulicoth and is completely covered by the shadow of Salith,” said Delsani. “Use the Light of Yeluilat.”

“What about it?” John asked.

“It will penetrate the shadow and show us what is hiding behind it.”

The marching drew ever closer. The tremble in the ground was now heavier, louder, and worse, nearer.

John took the sword from its sheath he held it out in front of him and shouted, “YELUILAT!” A blinding light burst from its blade. John was the only one that was not affected by its light. No one else could see a thing, for the light was so strong.

The King could see the marcher now. “BETWEENS (former Men turned by the Dark Lord Salith), LORES, AND GOBLINS!” he shouted. And they were very close to them and getting closer with every passing second.

The blade slowly dimmed, and the others got their first look at Ulicoth’s army. To them it looked as though his army was the same or perhaps a little smaller than their own, and that filled their hearts with hope.

Prince Bacnil threw on his helmet. “To arms,” he shouted as he jumped onto his horse. If not for the seriousness of the situation it would have looked and sounded ridiculous, a skinny, fresh-faced, inexperienced young man with the voice of a fourteen year old expecting an army to trust him with their very lives. Most, but not all of the men stayed with their prince. The rest of the army ran to John and Delsani.

“Archers, take your places and ready your bows,” shouted Delsani. The Morden archers formed two lines. The front line got down onto their right knee. Both lines of archers fixed their arrows to their bow strings, which they drew back ready to go at the first command. The Elven archers who stood only ten feet from the men did the same.

Suddenly, a long bright yellow light appeared. When it faded, they saw Kilamen standing not far ahead of Ulicoth’s army. They knew that it was her, as they could see her bright yellow Dragon eyes glaring at them.

“Go now, Jastark,” said Delsani. “We will fight this battle. You have your own battle to fight. Go now before they draw to near.”

“I should stay and help,” said John.

“No,” said Delsani, “Ulicoth has seen you, and now knows that there is other Wizard-Elfs. He has most likely guessed that you have come to kill him. And in his weakened state, he is probably no match for you. That’s why he has sent Kilamen to find you before you can get close enough to harm him. Run into the forest and then Phaze up to the fortress and bring the Second Prophecy to light.”

John nodded. ‘Okay,” he said. “Be careful my friend.”

“And you watch your head. Be extra careful,” said Delsani. “Good luck, your majesty.”

John smiled when he heard his true title.

“Now go before it’s too late,” said Delsani. “We’ll try and keep Kilamen busy as long as we can.”

Chapter Four

The Wicked Wizard-Elf

As John ran toward the forest, he could see the tree line, which was now not too far ahead of him. He picked up speed and was running faster than he had ever run in his entire life. If he were to blink he would have missed his entrance into the forest. Before he knew it, he was in the middle of the woodland when he abruptly stopped, his feet skidding on the ground, which was riddled with old twigs, leaves, fallen acorns, chestnuts, and pine cones.

The forest was dark, darker than it had looked from the outside. John looked up, but he could not see the clouds above, though he could clearly hear the clashing of metal and the shouts and yells of those barking orders, not to mention the unnerving screams of the first wounded of the battle that was being waged just beyond the borders of the trees. Then there was the sound of a twig breaking and a sweet soft voice calling to him through the woodland. There was nothing else in his mind now, not the sound of the battle being fought behind him, not even the sound of the wind gently blowing between the trees. He looked in every direction, but there was nothing there. He gripped his hand around the handle of Yeluilat in case the shadow was hiding something else. He was about to draw the sword from its sheath when he saw someone standing in front of him.

From the size and frame of this person, John was confident that was, in fact, a woman, and she was only a few trees away from him. She was wearing a pearl white dress, and she had a hood over her head that was attached to a white veil that guarded her face. She wore no socks or shoes of any kind. Her voice seemed louder and stronger in the few seconds that passed. John began to walk toward her, entranced by her beautiful voice. She threw back her hood and veil and John was amazed with the beauty before him. He had taken only a few steps when a loud howl rang out throughout the forest.

The voice stopped, for the howl had startled the woman. She took a few steps back toward the trees behind her.

She was not as beautiful as John thought. Her eyes were cold and grey, her skin was frost white, wrinkled, dry and cracked. Her long nails were chipped and ragged, and her hair was tattered and as white as her very skin. But John could not see her for what she really was, for he was still entranced by her voice and stood there still as stone. The leaves began to rustle close by. Someone or something was coming their way. The woman began to retreat into the trees until the darkness surrounded her and she could no longer be seen.

The thing that scared the woman away came closer and closer until it emerged from behind the trees to John’s right. It was the Wolf Demala. The Wolf ran to his friend’s side. He stood there surveying the Wizard-Elf with his bright red eyes.

The creature’s fur was white on his lower body, legs, paws, and both sides of his face, and chest, with the slightest rings around his eyes; however, his tail was blood red running up his back, over his head, ears, and leading down to his light brown nose. He was a beautiful creature. Helen thought he was cute, which made John laugh.

“I wouldn’t let him hear you say that,” he warned.

Now Demala still stood beside the entranced Wizard King.

“WAKE UP JOHN!” the Wolf howled at his friend. But John did not move. Demala shouted again and still nothing. He then trotted over to the King’s side and sank his teeth into his leg. John yelled part in pain and part in shock. For Demala’s bite had woken him from the woman’s spell.

“Were did she go?” asked John sounding puzzled.

“Trust me when I say, you don’t want to know the answer to that question,” replied Demala.

“Try me.”

“Fine, she’s a Valcota a drinker of blood.”

“A vampire,” said John, now sounding a little distant.

“You should not have come here so soon John. You’re not ready yet. You’re not experienced enough to face even one Wizard-Elf, never mind two at once,” said Demala, concerned.

“I don’t intend to face both of them at once. One at a time is the plan,” replied John confidently.

“Don’t go in there thinking that this’ll all go your way.

Ulicoth may be still recovering from the blow that Dragdani dealt him all of those years ago, but he’s no fool. I believe he’s been expecting an attack. Why else would he sit still with an enormous army that he has spent so many years building unless he has been waiting for the right time to release his wraith upon this world?”

“What are you talking about? Ulicoth’s army is no bigger than our own,” said the King, the arrogance flowing from his words.

“Don’t be so sure,” said the Wolf. “Think, John. He has had nearly six hundred years to make his army and you’ve had just two. His is forces are ten times the size. Do the math.”

“You’re right. Six hundred years is a long time, but remember Ulicoth was near death for most of it. He’s only started to recover these past five years, and it would take him that long to breed half of the creatures I saw and to persuade the other half, which were most likely hiding in the mountains in distant lands, to fight for him.”

“Don’t be sure. Ulicoth is stronger then you think. Don’t underestimate him, my friend, for all our sakes.”

“I’ve got to go. They won’t be able to keep Kilamen busy for long,” said John.

“Very well,” said Demala, “but I still think that you’ve come too soon. After all, there were two prophecies.”

“Yes, I know. Why do you think we’ve come now? We’re trying to prevent the first one from coming true. If we attack now instead of waiting for him to attack, we can stop him before it’s too late.”

“Okay, just be careful, don’t be over confident, and never think about putting down your guard even for a moment.”

“Fine, but I’ve really got to go,” said John.

“Then the only thing left for me to say is good luck. And I really mean that, John,” said Demala.

“Thank you, my friend,” replied John warmly. A green light came around the King, and when it had faded, all that was left was a green vapor slowly spreading and dispersing in the air. He had Phazed, just as Kilamen had done, from the fortress to the once hidden army of Ulicoth. John found that he could not Phaze directly into the fortress, for it was protected by magic. Instead he Phazed himself to underneath the balcony that he had seen Ulicoth and Kilamen standing on only minutes before. John switched back to his Dragon eyes, and with them he was able to measure the distance from where he stood to the balcony, which was quite high up. He bent his knees and jumped up, straight up, higher and higher. In those few seconds he could see the balcony getting closer until he was beneath it. He stretched out his arm and caught the bottom of it, and with minimum effort, he pulled himself up over the rail of the balcony and landed on his feet.

Meanwhile, on the battlefield, most of the alliance lead by Prince Bacnil and the Dwarf Lord Eiaten were successfully pushing their enemies back toward the main mountain. Delsani had commandeered as many soldiers as he could call to him: Men, Dwarves, and Elves. He didn’t care as long as it would help him to delay Kilamen’s departure. She was walking calmly through the field trying to find the one that had come to kill her master and killing any that would dare to cross her path.

The old Wizard knew he would soon cross paths with her. He knew that he had to try and buy the Wizard King enough time. Even if it resulted in his demise, it was the only way. He could see her walking closer to him, but again she stopped drew her hand up slightly. Delsani could see yellow energy building up in her hand. The energy then took shape and became round and hovered only a few centimeters above the palm of her hand. He could clearly see the ball of energy swirling round. She threw the energy ball at an Elven warrior who had run at her, hitting him straight in the heart, killing him instantly. She laughed at him, just as she had done so many times before, as he fell to the muddy ground.

One of the men then came running toward her with his sword held high, but before he could get near her, she put out her hand again. There was flash of yellow light, and the man’s sword disappeared from his hand and appeared in hers. She swiped low and cut straight through the man’s stomach. She spun the sword round between her fingers. Now the blade was pointing behind her. She shoved it into the throat of Eiaten’s youngest son, Paril. Then hit him in the face with her right elbow, pulled the sword back out and threw it up.

The sword flipped round. She caught it with the blade the right way up. She did not keep the sword for long, though, for she threw it at another man who was charging at her. It went right through his chest. She stood there in front of her latest victim looking around, wondering whether so many would be so foolish to attack her if they knew who she was. And then it came to her. They were all decoys.

Delsani could see the expression on her face. Now, he thought, now it’s time. His sword was already in his right hand. He reached into his pocket with his left and took out his wand then calmly walked toward the Wicked Wizard-Elf.

John went from the balcony into a great dark room. Ulicoth must’ve decorated this place, thought the King. The floor was grey marble. The ceiling was red, and the walls were purple. On the walls were shields, swords and other different and strange weapons.

He was deep into the room and could see a number of flags of all different shapes and sizes. There were a few that he recognized, but he had only seen them in books and scrolls. They were the flags of the other Wizard orders that exist in their world. The flags were forming a square around a symbol that had captured John’s complete and undivided attention. It was the flag of the Dark Lord Salith. That flag was considered to be the ultimate sign of evil throughout the lands of Dorminya. It was scarlet, and in the middle was the Symbol of Salith, which was oval-shaped. The edge of it was silver, and in the middle was a silver skull with only the top set of teeth. Its eyes were dark and glittery blue in the area that surrounded the skull.

John could see a bed in the distance, and on it was Ulicoth resting silently. He walked towards him and drew his hand up. An energy ball began to build form in it. John then did the same with his other hand getting ready for the onslaught.

But before he got any closer, Ulicoth awoke.

“I have been waiting for you John,” he said.

John was not surprised to hear that his enemy knew his Normal name. He knew Ulicoth had spies everywhere. He was, however, surprised by Ulicoth’s voice, as it sounded ordinary and refined, even friendly. He had expected it to be wicked and cold.

“And how did you know that I would be here?” asked John.

“Let’s just say a little traitor told me,” replied Ulicoth with an impious grin on his face.

Little traitor, John thought. Who could it be? The first name that sprang to mind was Demala. “The Wolf had told John that Ulicoth was expecting him. But then why warn me of it. It doesn’t make any since.

Ulicoth sat up and slowly got off the bed. He stood up. John noticed he was hunched over slightly, and his hood covered the top of his face just as Delsani’s had done when he appeared at the Stark residence. Ulicoth was wearing cherry red robes. On his chest holding his robes together was a broach. It was the Symbol of Salith and was exactly the same in shape and color as on the scarlet flag. He was also wearing a ring on his left index finger. It was silver and looked like the skull of a Lore warrior. The old Wizard-Elf’s face and hands had bulging purple veins and were wrinkled and bony, and his skin was chalky white.

Ulicoth was now looking at the energy in John’s hands.

“You will not need those,” he told the Wizard King.

“I think I’ll hold onto them for now,” replied John firmly.

“Don’t be rude, John. After all, you are my guest.”

“Guest,” John snorted.

“Do you really think that you would’ve got this far without my help?” asked Ulicoth. His voice had suddenly changed; now it was cold and menacing. “After all, it was I who told Kilamen to go down to join my army and kill as many of the attacking force as she liked. She loves the smell of the fear that comes from a battle, though she likes killing even more. And it was I who saved you from the Valcota in the forest. It was I that took away the protection spell on the balcony, or you would have been blown to tiny little pieces as soon as you touched it. And I am the one allowing most of your friends to live. One word from me is all it would take for the rest of my army to show themselves and destroy them all and end this foolish, pitiful, and predictable attack.”

“What do you mean, the rest of your army?” asked John.

“I have spent over six hundred long years building the largest, strongest force that this world or any other has known. And you and your idiotic Wizard’s Council thought that you could build an army to match it in just two.”

“So why wait?” asked John.

“Because of you,” said Ulicoth. “You are the one that I need to help me.”

“I’ll never help you.”

“Come now, John. You are being rude again. I only have your best interests at heart,” said Ulicoth. The Dark Wizard-Elf had again changed his voice. Once more it sounded kind.

“That’s strange. In all of the things I’ve read of you, in none have I ever read of you having a heart,” said John. If the King could spit poison, each word surely would have had enough to kill instantly.

“There is heart of body and heart of mind, and I do have both, despite what history says, or rather doesn’t say, though it is also true that I usually use the former and never the latter. But we, John, we are kin. There are only a few of our kind left. We need to work together to protect ourselves from those who would sooner see us all dead than let us have even a fraction of power in this world. Why not disperse the energy and sit down?” implied Ulicoth.

The light from the energy in John’s hand began to dim until finally it disappeared.

“Good,” said Ulicoth. “Now sit down.”

“STOP IT!” shouted John.

“Stop what?” asked Ulicoth, with a large smile on his face.

“Stop trying to control me.”

“I see that your will is stronger than I thought. That’s very good.”

“Not for you,” said the King.

“You have but one chance to join us,” said Ulicoth. He now held out his hand.

“No! I won’t, and do you want to know why?” asked the Wizard King forcefully. “Trust. Trust is needed, and how could I ever trust you? After all, you’re the reason there are only a few of our kind left, or did you forget that little fact?”

“I warn you, this will be the only chance you’ll have, so do not be a fool, John. Take my hand and let the last three Wizard-Elves claim this world, for who could stand against us? Join us, Jastark. Join your family.”

John usually liked to hear his Wizard name, but this time he was repulsed with the way it seemed to slide off the Dark Lord’s slimy tongue. For the first time in his life, he hated the way it sounded. John could see that Ulicoth was now slumping over a little. His right hand was still outstretched, and his other hand was pressed against his chest. And if the King listened hard enough, he could hear a slight wheezing coming from the form that was his enemy.

“No,” he said. “I already said I wouldn’t help you.”

“Yes,” said Ulicoth, “You did say that, but what about your brother or sister, John. Doesn’t it matter what he or she thinks or wants?”

“What brother or sister? I don’t have a brother or a sister!”

“Oh, but you do. You see, when a Wizard-Elf is born. There is not just one; there are two. Two minds, two souls, in one body. I once had a sibling, and Kilamen has a sister. One gets control of the body, and the other gets to spend most of, or maybe even all of their lives trapped inside their own mind. So I ask you, does that sound fair to you, that your sibling should stay trapped while you get to make all the decisions? Decisions like whether to live or die,” said Ulicoth. “Why not ask what he or she wants, for a change. All you have to do is close your eyes and empty your mind of all thought, and you‘ll finally be able to hear for yourself.”

John felt light-headed and had begun to close his eyes.

“Yes, that’s it. That’s all you have to do.”

But John’s eyes shot back open again.

“NO!” he shouted. “I’M NOT GOING TO PLAY YOUR STUPID GAMES ANYMORE!’

“Are you not even the slightest bit curious?” asked Ulicoth tactfully.

“I was at first, but I’m willing to bet that whoever your sibling was and Kilamen’s sister is. They were the first ones in control of your bodies. And since you are both evil, that means my brother or sister, if I even have one, is as sick and twisted as both of you,” said John.

“I’m stunned, for I think that’s the first time since you have returned to this world that you’ve used your brain. But I must confess I’m also delighted, as now I know that you and your sick and twisted sibling have potential,” said Ulicoth.

“My answer is no, I won’t join you Ulicoth,” said the King.

“I am sorry to hear that, John,” said the Dark Lord. He was still holding his hand out, however, a purple energy ball formed in his palm. He threw it past the King and out the open balcony window. It streaked across the dark sky like a shooting star.

Ulicoth lounged at John. They both fell to the floor. John kicked the Dark Wizard-Elf in the stomach, and he slid across the floor and hit the wall opposite. John got back onto his feet, as did Ulicoth. John made to kick him again; however, Ulicoth caught his foot and threw him against the wall. The Wizard King got up. The Dark Wizard-Elf made to hit him again, but John dodged his fist, spun on his heel and struck Ulicoth square in the face with his left elbow.

Ulicoth stumbled, fell and lay stunned for a few moments. John taking this chance lounged at his enemy, but the Dark Wizard-Elf jumped up ready with a kick. However, the Wizard King was again too quick and threw out his leg in retaliation. The soles of their shoes connected flat on, and the two pushed away at the same time. They flipped over and landed with their feet on the ground, both forming energy balls in their hands at the same time. They stood there staring at one another both wondering when the other would move.

But Ulicoth was really trying to stall the fight long enough for Kilamen to join in. In his weakened condition, the Dark Lord was no match for John, and he knew it.

On the battlefield, Kilamen was trying to get only two seconds, for that was all it would take to Phaze back to help her master. But Delsani had told as many as he could that she must not be allowed to do so. Therefore she was now constantly being attacked from all sides.

Delsani himself was wounded after he attacked her. She deflected his curse back at him, and he dispersed it and they fought. He really did better than anyone could have thought, but in the end she was to powerful for him and hit with a gruesome curse that knocked him off his feet and threw him back ten meters. He was seriously wounded; the whole right side of his body was burnt and it was spreading.

As the onsite Curer (doctor), Henkot, was tending to him, a few of the Ves-Guards were there to prevent him from being attacked, though there was little chance of that happening, for Kilamen was being kept busy, and the rest of Ulicoth’s forces had all been pushed back toward the bottom of the mountains. It seemed that the alliance was doing a lot better than they had originally hoped, for now their forces had almost beaten those distasteful creatures back all the way. It seemed that apart from Kilamen, everything was going their way.

Kilamen had almost beaten all of those who had foolishly challenged her. Demala, who was watching from the tree line of the forest saw that if there was ever a time to redeem himself for his past crimes, this was it. He started at a run toward the Wizard-Elf as fast as he could, which was incredibly fast.

Kilamen had now finished with her attackers and had begun to Phaze.

Demala leapt into the air landed on her back and pushed her to the ground before the energy had covered her completely. She rolled along the ground, throwing the Wolf off. Demala quickly came to his senses ran and jumped at her again, not giving her time to react. He put his sharp jaws around her neck and bit down as hard as they would allow and shook her like an old cloth.

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R. Alan Ferguson

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Second Prophecy

All rights reserved.

Copyright © 2012 by R. Alan Ferguson.

Cover art by R. Alan Ferguson