Dreamweaver: A Prophecy Revealed

Alyssa’s voice seemed to fade off.

“Rowan, can you hear me,” Alyssa asked.

The image of Alyssa flickered the connection was lost. The portal which was never to be used disappeared leaving nothing but the cold stone walls of Rowan’s inner chambers. The general was gone.

The fire in her chambers suddenly vanished, the air was cold, and the dead of winter filled the room. Her skin prickled under the weight of the cold. Rowan rose from her chair and crossed the length of her chambers to re-light the hearth.   Feeling the warmth rising once more Rowan walked to the table next to her chair. Raven came behind the older woman and began to braid her long black hair. Arranging her hair into an intricate coif at the nape of Rowan’s neck, Raven fastened her hair with a golden broach in the shape of the dragon of Gao.  Looking at herself in the old bronze mirror the king had brought from beyond the golden seas Rowan let her mind drift back to happier times.

Lost in thought she barely noticed the change in the air. There was an unnatural stillness, time itself had stopped. She shifted her gaze to Raven, the younger woman seemed Immobile, it was as if she was fixed in a single moment in time. Her breathing slowed, Raven’s eyes seemed to be filled with emptiness, her gaze seemed to drift into a dark void, strands of her hair hovered in place. Rowan stiffened anticipating what was to come. He’s here, she thought.

Stepping away from the younger woman she gathered up her crimson gown and sunk deeply into the oversized chair next to the fireside table.

“he’s here,” she said

“Who’s here,” Raven asked.

“The King,” she said dryly

With a flash of piercing white light, he entered Rowan’s inner chambers. The air turned cold as he approached her. She’s not alone, he thought. Focused on Rowan he ignored the younger woman. As he moved through the cloak of his shade the air stirred pushing loose locks of her dark hair out of place, her cheeks reddening, and her eyes sparkled by the light of the fire.  

The younger woman saw nothing at first, but then she glimpsed it. There was a ripple that seemed to have pierced the air itself. It’s a shade, she thought. She saw through his cloak, his illusion, and knew it was the king.

“Raven go see to your duties,” she said coldly.

Relieved, Raven quickly left Rowan’s chambers.

“Alone, at last,” Kel said. Lifting the veil she could see him, not the shade but him. She wished he hadn’t lifted the veil.

“So, it would seem,” she said coyly

Standing over her he could smell the lilac in her hair, and the sandalwood adorning her skin enticed him closer. He let his eyes travel the length of her body, she met his gaze, and he loved her strength. She refused to lower her gaze; she would not retreat from him. There was no fear of him in her, that would soon change, he thought.

“I know you’re in contact with them,” he said.

“Them,” she questioned.

“Don’t play coy, you know of whom I speak,” he said.

Without acknowledging him she sank deep into her chair as it enveloped her, almost protecting her from his heavy gaze. Without thinking, she reached for the crystal goblet that had been sitting on the table beside her. Slowly bringing it to her lips she savored the wine of the Bimini Forest. It was sweet and had a nutty aroma, an earthy flavor she loved. She allowed herself to momentarily drift away, the weight of his gaze brought her back.

“Alyssia has broken her silence, but the connection was lost,” she said, taking another sip.

Kel turned, took a few steps away from her, gazing at the ancient map of Gaillardia, reached out, and tapped on the glass which protected the ancient map. Slowly he traced a line from the kingdom of Gao to the mountains of Umar. “Tell me, Rowan, what does the prophesy say again,” He asked.

Shifting in her seat, she was uneasy, she saw where his finger had stopped. He was obsessed with the scrolls of Aldar and the fables they told. He was fixated with the mountains of Umar, the realm of the dark elven kings, she wished he would just let it all go. That was just a story the elders told to scare the younglings it wasn’t real. With a labored sigh, she recited the age-old prophecy.

“The first shall be the guardian, protector of the light of Ahn. As darkness rises, the scourge of Baldur will plunge the land into a time of sorrow. The exiled shall return. The skies shall be filled with fire and blood. The crownless shall once more be Queen.” she said. Slumping deeper into the oversized chair she was exasperated. “Yes, yes, yes, Kiel every child has heard that myth a thousand times. Why are we talking about this, yet again,” she murmured?

“She remembers,” he said dryly.

The room fell silent, except for the crackling of the fire. At last, Rowan drew a long breath as if she had just come out of a deep trance. “What is this you’re telling me? What do you mean she remembers?” she heard the words echoing in her mind, ringing over and over as she spoke. slowly she looked up at him and he held her gaze. There was a deep knowing in that gaze, it made her uneasy. All the planning, the work she did was it for nothing? That spell had nearly taken her life, were it not for the sisters of the Dalradian temple she never would have recovered. No, this is impossible. Had everything they did all those years ago been in vain?

“There’s no stopping it,” she whispered.