Peter Koevari - Prophecies Awakening

Vartan's eyes narrowed and his body shook. “No! Why did you do that? He was just a boy!"

It seemed a fire began to build inside his body, as though his chest burned with real flames. He felt small sparks of energy surge from his chest and his body felt more alive than ever before. He screamed so ferociously in his overpowering fury that he lost his voice. As he released the arrow from its confinement, both Vartan and the bow flickered with a dark blue light, enchanting the arrow with lightning shards that ripped their way into the air around it. It was only then, as the dark woods were forced into light, that Vartan had his first true view of the demon. Its skin rippled and flowed so rapidly that Vartan’s eyes struggled to find its features.

The arrow immediately found its target, and exploded with immense power as it struck the centre of the demon. The resulting explosion set the surrounding trees alight like giant candles, removing all shadow and darkness from around them. With no means of escape, the demon howled with pain as it slowly dissolved, piece by piece, into nothingness.

It dragged its decaying body along the ground toward Vartan. A loud hiss erupted from the demon as it dropped into the forest floor.

“Just die!” cried Vartan, dropping to his knees beside his brother’s broken body.

Using his last ounce of strength, he dragged Finn’s body away from the oak. Moments later, a burning branch landed heavily in its place. Vartan’s vision blurred as his anger gave way to his grief. Tears of pain blanketed his eyes, and he sobbed uselessly. Suddenly he was completely overcome with weakness, so physically drained, that he collapsed onto the dirty forest floor next to his little brother. He couldn’t move a muscle in reaction even as the faint but crescendo of galloping hooves reached his ears.

“There they are! Down by the burning trees! We’ve found them!” yelled Leon to the horsemen trailing behind him.

“Wha… What has happened? No! Finn!” cried Leon desperately, his voice wavering.

Vartan parted his lips and he whispered weakly, “Father, I couldn’t save him. I failed him… I… Demon… sorry…”

Strong arms lifted his body off the ground as if he was as light as a feather. Vartan finally closed his eyes and drifted away into sleep's deep embrace.

Vartan found himself standing in a well-lit cavern. He brought his hands to his face and his spine tingled. Something did not feel right. It was as if he hovered above the ground in a dream of some kind.

“Where am I? Have I died and gone to the realm of the gods?” he asked. His voice echoed through the endless underground tunnels laden with a kaleidoscope of crystals and diamonds.

He squinted as the blurry figure of a man appeared, standing atop a mound in the cavern floor. “Far from it. More importantly, child, what you should be asking yourself is, ‘ Who am I?’” The image of the man flickered as it spoke. “You are not yet trained in the ancient arts of magic, Vartan, and you are far too young to have cast the spell of Sky’s Wrath without the proper training to control it. Many paths lay before you, and there are many challenges which you alone must overcome before we meet again."

“Magic, training, paths-what are you talking about? Finn — my little brother — I failed to save his life, and it’s all my fault!” cried Vartan.

“You really do not know, then? Who you are? Why you are here? That is an interesting conundrum. Your brother chose his own path, Vartan, but you should ease your conscience with the knowledge that he has passed into the afterlife and will be born again."

“Born again? What does that mean?” asked Vartan desperately.

“That was his fate, and you are fortunate to remain in a position to choose your own. It is with the luck of the gods that you will wake again, as the amount of magic that you unleashed could dispatch the uninitiated from Marithia — or from any other world, for that matter. When the time is right, we will meet again. Until that time, we will watch you from afar. We will have much more to discuss then."

“Who are you? What are you? How will I know who you are when we meet again?” asked Vartan.

The figure let out an immense laugh that sent a few stalactites smashing into the ground. “You are not the only creature that is able to use magic, Vartan. I am Karven. I am to my kind what your kings are to yours. You are not yet prepared, or anywhere near ready, to handle all of the answers I am able to provide; But at the very least, I owe you a proper introduction."

The figure of the man suddenly vanished with a flash. Vartan watched in wonder as a large reptilian tail slowly appeared at the bottom of the mound, covered in dark red scales that shimmered with many colours in the light. Each scale continued to change until mighty Karven’s gigantic body revealed itself. He spread his great wings, and breathed out searing breath that melted the ice around the cavern.

The dragon king's voice filled the caverns. “So you see, young Vartan, you will never need question who or what I am when we meet. But I need you to understand that if you utter a word of our existence, no human or elf will believe your words, and you risk the destruction of us all. Now you must awaken!”

Awaken? Am I dreaming all of this? thought Vartan.

Karven chanted the words “ Mens agitat molem,” and the spell immediately began to take effect. Vartan felt a flow of magic wash over him like a bucket of icy water, and his soul was pulled back into his body at the speed of light.

The horses came to a sudden halt beside the farm, under the pale white glow of the moon. A cheerful Victoria ran to open the door with a lantern in her grip, welcoming her family home with a warm smile. Her voice rang with love. "Thank the gods you found them my love, come inside and out of the cold…"

Suddenly her face paled as if she had seen a ghost, and she stared at him with eyes stripped of life, appearing frozen in time. The words escaped her lips with a whisper. "Where are our children?"

Leon stood his ground, with Vartan lying unconscious in his arms. A faint fog of breath escaped their eldest son's lungs, and Victoria sobbed a sigh of relief.

Standing up straight and blinking her watery eyes, her voice broke as she asked, "And what of little Finn? Where is he?"

The horsemen carried the boy's broken and bloodied body by the arms and legs, carefully placing him on the ground beside Leon's feet. They nodded respectfully and as they left for their horses, the nearest man whispered, "I am terribly sorry for your loss."

The breaking of the lantern's glass on the ground made Leon wince before his wife’s cries reached his ears and tore through his heart. Walking past his sobbing wife, his eyes blurred with his own tears. He carried Vartan to his room and placed him down, carefully, on his bed, covering him with a warm blanket.

Walking with heavy steps, he spoke softly as he returned outside to find his wife. "Victoria… I…"

She knelt in the dirt with her son lying in her arms. She looked up at him and her lips quivered as she wailed, "Like this? Was he fated to die like this?"

Leon approached slowly, clutching the wooden carving of a knight on horseback in his clenched fist. Dropping to his knees in front of her, he took them both in his arms and held them tight.