Air

Two

    "Prince Alastair, thank you for coming.  My name is Regis and this is of  the upmost importance and we are grateful for your help."  The man in question, strode up towards a group of men who were waiting for him to arrive. He was completely swathed in black from head to toe. He looked sinister and deadly, as did all the men that accompanied him. They were also dressed in black forming a protective barrier behind their Prince's back.

    "I am prince of nothing. It's just Alastair, and I never agreed to help you only to listen to what you have to say." 

    "Yes, Yes. My apologies. Alastair, if you and your men would like to have dinner before we talk that will…"

    "Let's cut to the chase, if I leave I won't return. Tell me why you have summoned me?" Alastair interrupted him, impatient for an explanation to what could have caused the council members to seek his aide. To say the least that everyone knew to give him and his men a wide berth was an understatement. He was tired of all this posturing and wanted to go home.

    "As you wish, Alastair we have asked you here today because you are part of a prophecy that will either bring the end of the world or a way to defeat a great evil."  There was total silence after that statement and then Alastair burst out with loud guffaws of laughter.

    "You almost had me there. That was entertaining but please do not tell me you asked me to come all the way here for a joke."

    "Alastair this is no joke. The prophecy does not name you exactly but it does describe the male, and with these descriptions there can truly be no one else." Regis stated with absolutely no humor in his tone or features, and Alastair was starting to believe him.

    "Describe the male in the prophecy." He demanded a scowl now on his face, all traces of humor gone. Alastair knew that he should never take a prophecy or curse lightly. He knew you can not shirk your destiny and if you tried you learned that no matter how fast and how far you run, destiny will find you. He has heard many prophecies but never one about him before.

    "An exiled king who is the last of his line. He will either find his love or lose her. The white stag is to proud to seize the crown but the only way he can save his dying heart is to become who he was born to be. She will be the very Air he breathes. A great evil will surface to destroy what he holds dear and end all things. The evil may be the Bane of all existence or be driven back from whence he came. He either chooses love and life or beget a harrowing that he will regret for all time.  " Regis looked at him expectantly, as did all the others.

    "That can describe any number of people. Although it mentions a white stag I was never crowned a king. And I have no heart."

     Regis shook his head slowly and looked at him.  "You haven't met her yet, and trust me "your heart" needs you and if you turn your back on her now you will regret it for the rest of your days."

    Alastair stopped breathing. His mind flashed to the image of the woman that haunts his dreams. He knows her but he can't see her face clearly. He has memorized every line of her body and her scent. She begs for his help but he can't reach her in time. As she draws her last breath he feels an enormous hole where his heart used to be. He has never met the mystery woman but he knows she is important to him. They are connected.  It feels like his dreams are more of a warning now more than ever.  How could Regis have known that he has always called her his heart because he never knew her name? He will destroy whatever is after her but first he needs to save her.

    "Who?"

    "Her name is Damara and she is hurt. We found a piece of her clothing and it was soaked in her blood. We fear the worst and if she is not returned then it is the beginning of the end. She is your true mate. Will you really spurn her in her time of need?" Regis walked forward and withdrew a small pouch and Alastair knew instinctively what it held.

    "Give it to me." He snatched the pouch out of his hands and opened it. Her scent hit him like a sledgehammer, and his knees grew weak as her scent coiled around him. An animal instinct overcame him and he knew with absolute certainty that this was his mate and that she was injured and lost. His very essence has memorized every detail he could remember in his dreams and this scent was hers alone. A scent that he would know anywhere. The fact that the cloth was soaked in blood made his blood boil with rage. He couldn't stop the growl that escaped his mouth.

    "Z, scent the blood hounds." Alastair throws the pouch to his most loyal brother in arms. They have fought many battles together and saved each other lives too many times to keep count. His loyalty was absolute.  Z caught the pouch and strode off, heading toward the back where the hounds were kept.

    "My prince, you are convinced that you are indeed the one in the prophecy? This prophecy is more than a thousand years old. We have had centuries to study it and read the signs. We know each player and their roles to play on this great stage. We just don't know what the outcome of the prophecy will be." Regis explained as he extended his arm to the side, beckoning Alastair to follow him. "Your father, a once strong fey, is now just a shadow of who he used to be. Release him from his curse, and seize your destiny. Take the throne and crown yourself king." Regis had a slight pleading quality in his tone that didn't escape Alastair's notice.

    "I've told you, I am prince of nothing, king of nothing and I owe my father nothing. He will continue to suffer and you old man will stay the hell out of my business. Yes, I can accept the prophecy is true and I will do everything to save her, but leave the crown alone."

    "I fear that you will realize only to late that taking the throne would have been the least thing you would have done for her. What I do know is that if she dies all hope is lost. The end of days will be upon us, and there will be nothing that will save us."  Regis bowed his head in respect to Alastair as he turned and walked away.

    Alastair clenched his fist and made a vow that he will do anything to find her and save her. She belonged to him and no other. He has dreamed of her for decades, always wondering if she was real or a figment of his imagination. The longing to know what she looks like and to feel her skin upon his own in the flesh. Her scent was heady and seductive and he shook his head to clear it from it's cloudiness.

    "Alastair, we caught her sent."

    Alastair quickly looked up and a fierce and savage gleam entered his eyes. He could feel the wild hunt taking over in his body, making him larger, faster and a more deadly predator.  A vicious smile came upon him as he whispered, "Let's go hunting."