Bryan Davis - Eye of the Oracle

“Yes, yes,” Patrick said, nodding, “I know the psalm. Still, you are not a normal human. Such promises are rather vague in your case.”

“Then it’s a new adventure, isn’t it? I’d rather go to war than cower in shadows all my life. My parents think Devin’s hiding in every alley he’s the bus driver; he’s the balloon man at the fair; he’s the principal at my school. The way he gets around, you’d think he was Superman. No one can be that powerful.”

Patrick’s brow creased deeply. “Don’t underestimate someone who has survived for centuries. According to the last word I have, his morbid tally stands at six dead dragons since the transformation. With Morgan giving him power, his prowess likely far exceeds your estimation.”

“Maybe, but he hasn’t found you or my family yet, so I’m not scared of him. If I have to spill my blood to protect the people I love, then I’m ready.”

Patrick laid his hands on Gabriel’s shoulders. “You are a true warrior. I shall not try to dissuade you any longer.”

“A warrior?” Gabriel turned his head to the side. “If you say so. I just hope I have the guts to back up my hot air.”

“I understand.” Patrick slid his hands away and strolled to the table. He picked up the pendant and let it dangle by its chain. As the rubellite twirled at the bottom, its facets glimmered, sending red flashes all around. He caressed the gem with his fingertip. “Why the path to salvation must be coated with blood, I’ll never understand, but of this I’m sure it is the sacrifice of love that will draw the faithful to the Great Key’s threshold.”

Merlin floated along one of the candlestone’s crystalline hallways, his body’s radiant light casting just enough glow to guide his path. Learning how to change the shape of his energy field had made it easy to disguise himself when he stopped by to see the rebellion conspirators. He usually spoke only to the six who had since repented of their crimes. Barlow, Edward, Newman, Fiske, Standish, and Woodrow now professed fealty to the king, though Arthur had been dead for centuries. They were good men unwise to allow themselves to be deceived, certainly, but their basic motivations had been noble.

Merlin gazed at his shining body. Now a spiritual entity, bearing no more weight than a flame, he had far more control over his mind and greater clarity of vision. He looked up and concentrated on a tiny light in the distance, the entry hole that drew him into the candlestone yet still prevented any escape because of the gem’s tractive power. He peered through the opening, willing his vision to enlarge the window ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times like a telescope expanding its light-gathering mirrors. Within seconds, it seemed that the entire outside world had enveloped his body, though he merely stood in place, still trapped in a gemstone prison.

On this particular day, since the sun shone so clearly, Devin had to be wearing the gem on the outside of his vest, a perfect time for opening a viewing port. Merlin guided his radiant hand over the surface of one of the crystal’s inner walls. It flashed with light, showing a bouncing panorama of an English road, the scenery in front of Devin as he walked.

With his enhanced spiritual perception, Merlin peered intently through the wall and gazed toward multiple horizons, taking in the sights and sounds of millions of happenings throughout England and even over the northern border in Scotland. Quickly orienting himself to the landscape, he soon located Patrick and listened in on his conversation with Elam and Gabriel.

Merlin shook his head and sighed a stream of energy. They were trying so hard, yet they knew so little. Bound by their physical bodies, they could only comprehend as far as their senses could reach. And Patrick, though he was reasonably wise, had no teacher to guide him past the more difficult obstacles to spiritual maturity. The man who had served so gallantly as Valcor, a noble dragon for a thousand years, would soon face a mind-bending challenge that would stretch every strand in his moral fiber, call into question everything and everyone he had ever loved, and possibly alter his life forever. The future of the dragon race depended on the choices he would soon make, and he had no idea that such a test was coming.

Merlin whispered in the air, breathing a tiny line of twinkling sparks that rose toward the gem’s entry. “Father, what can I do to help? I have left them only scattered scraps of wisdom in an artless song that begs to be translated into coherent speech. Were I to read it, knowing what they know, I would be pulling my hair out in frustration. When I wrote the song, I knew so little of what I was writing. You spoke through me in mysteries too deep for my limited mind to fathom, and now that I no longer see through physical eyes, I can plunge those depths and uncover mysteries so great, my flesh-bound mind would have burst with joy as it tried to grasp your incomprehensible love, wisdom, and goodness.

“Yet, now that I know the answers to my own rhyming parables, I cannot turn the hearers to the path of salvation from ruin, nor dissuade them from the snake-filled pits that lie under indiscernible cover. They need a guide, someone with more knowledge than they possess, someone who can see what has been hidden from their limited perception. Even in my current state, I cannot see what spirit rules their hearts, so I ask you to provide whatever they need, within or without, to allow Valcor to complete his holy mission.”

Merlin’s energy field flashed with a blue tint. Who could possibly fill this massive void? Every potential helper was either dead or

“Merlin!”

Merlin searched for the source of the voice. It couldn’t have come from any of the conspirators. None of them knew who he was. He glanced up at the entry hole. A shining human shape floated down and gently landed in front of him. Surrounded by a radiant red aura, the elderly man smiled. “You seem surprised to see me, Merlin.”

“Surprised, indeed, and the fact that I don’t recognize you does nothing to diminish my surprise.”

The visitor laughed. “We are both prophets, my friend, so I will not hide my identity. You know that Moses and Elijah were able to make appearances from the spiritual realm. Who else among the prophets might be able to pierce the veil?”

Merlin stroked his chin. “If you are one of those whom God himself buried, whether by earth, by fire, or by air, I suppose you must be Enoch.”

“An air burial is an intriguing metaphor,” Enoch said, “considering the fact that I never really died.”

“Nor did Elijah, but God ended your stays on the earth, so I thought the word choice appropriate.”

“Ah! I see what you mean now.” Enoch’s glow shimmered from head to toe. “In any case, God sent me here in response to your prayer. You asked for a guide for Valcor, and you and I are going to provide one.”

“Then are you setting me free from this prison?” Merlin asked.

“No. You must stay for a little while longer. A prince and princess will arrive here one day, and they will need you to guide them through the valley of the shadow of death, but you will learn about that in due time. For now, you must expand your vision and allow your perspective to follow me. I will take you where your sight has not yet been able to travel and show you how to reach beyond the physical horizons you have already surveyed. Ours is a world of spirit, a sphere of invisible influence, where the forces of light and darkness do battle day and night. As I did through the Ovulum for many centuries, you must provide a window to the world of the living for a God-seeking soul who longs to see the realm of lost loves.”

Merlin bowed. “Although I cannot see how I am to fulfill this great commission, I am at your command, good prophet.”