The Dream Walker

Chapter Four The Birth of a Prophet

Chapter Four

The Birth of a ProphetZo sat watching the dancing flame as it flicked upon the small table as she sat curled in Seiken's embrace upon the large, cushioned seats. A leather-bound tome was held loosely open in her grasp as her attention wandered. To any recognising the symbols, it would be clear she was studying Oneiroikinesis. She had been an Oneiroi for many years, but Seiken had been convinced that her transition had unlocked a new affinity within her. Since she lacked any talents beyond the basic manipulation, she was beginning to doubt his words. The more Zo read about the amazing feats possible by those who could manipulate dreams, the more understanding was gained into their diversity.

Zo was in no way envious, after all, her own magic had adapted during the transition, altering to tether itself to Darrienia instead of Gaea's star. Seiken advised the alteration had changed her artes from Hectarian to simple energy manipulation. Most Oneirois, to one extent or another, could influence the surrounding energies. Her ability to do so simply came from an alternative source. He assured her there was a great gift sealed within her, to which her response was to remind him she had already shown the greatest magic of all, the ability to bear a child in a world where life was created by ritual, not conception. There was no argument that Alana was both a surprise, and a blessing.

“Sorry?” Seiken questioned, startling Zo from her focus. She drew her gaze from the flame to look deep into his rich brown eyes.

“Was I reading aloud?” she asked in confusion, almost able to hear the echo of her own voice, but the words were lost to her.

“It depends, are you reading about dreamless sleep?”

“No, I've just reached the—what's wrong?”

“Thea, you said Xantara was lost to the dreamless sleep. I'm not familiar with such a tale.” As a child he had heard many fables, and he still recalled the smile on his mother's lips as the soothing sound of her voice had relayed them to him, but this was a story he was unfamiliar with. Then again, their world was always evolving and creating new adventures.

“I must have been daydreaming.” Zo shrugged, returning her attention back towards the book. Several moments passed before Seiken felt her startle once more, this time as the crystal around her neck summoned her attention. She groaned slightly as she pulled herself from his embrace, seeing him lower his own tome.

“Zo, I'm really sorry. I had to tell her,” Daniel blurted out before Alessia snatched the gossip crystal from him.

“Did you know about the Ádlíc?” she demanded, forsaking all formalities in her haste and urgency. As she looked at Alessia's image, her perspective shifted to project the scene into her mind. They were stood within the borders of a forest. Daniel stood behind the Master and Commander looking apologetic, while Alessia seemed almost alarmed.

“The Ádlíc?” Zo glanced towards Seiken, wondering if her question had been directed towards him.

“The Earth Maiden, Xantara, has been afflicted. Lady Thea, did you know it was Ádlíc before you sent him there?” Seeing the look of genuine confusion on Zo's face Daniel stepped closer to Alessia, a puzzled expression knitting his brows together.

“Zo, the other night at the fire you said to me, and I quote, 'In Kerõs, Xantara will be lost as the elder sleeps.' I was about to ask you more but you warned if she fell two more would follow.” Zo stared at him blankly, flinching as she heard Seiken growl a powerful curse beneath his breath. She turned to look towards him in bewilderment, aware of Alessia's expression altering to one of deep concern. His eyes were tightly closed as he took a slow deep breath, releasing it with care before he brought himself to look upon his wife.

“How long have you been giving prophecy, Thea?” His voice was guarded of emotion to the point its absence caused her alarm.

“I-I haven't, I don't know—”

“A sage and a prophet,” he muttered raising a hand to his forehead. There was a moment of silence before he lowered it and spoke again. “Commander, have the Wita escorted to Crystenia as soon as possible.”

“Yes, my lord,” Alessia turned to Daniel, who appeared as confused as Zo. As their connection terminated, Zo's gaze sought Seiken in hope of an explanation. As their eyes met, she felt herself retreat slightly under the pressure of the powerful emotions he was attempting to suppress.

“There's a reason we have no sages amongst the Oneirois. An awakening prophet can only give their first prophecy to a sage, who must then confirm it as valid to give the power its foundation.” Seiken walked to the door as Zo felt the tears begin to burn in her eyes. She did not understand what she had done to cause him so much anger that he couldn't even bear to look at her. “Congratulations, you've been granted the gift of visions.” He left their rooms without looking back. The door pulled firmly closed behind him, warning her not to follow.

* * *

Seiken marched down the hallway, the ground at his feet quivering under the force of his anger. He had to leave, the destructive power was welling within him. He needed to find release before discussing what this meant with his wife. Creatures and beings all altered their direction rather than be in the presence of their heir, or risk crossing his path as the very foundation of their world shuddered and wilted around him.

Behind him, the charred and damaged ground began to repair, knitting the severed energies together until all evidence of his fury had been concealed. Seiken's pace never slowed. There was no friendly greeting called out to the Cynocephali, and no acknowledgement of the devastation he left in his wake. It was all he could do to hold back the rage and anguish he felt bursting within him. He needed solitude.

As his feet touched the surface of Darrienia, he took a deep breath, but the fury would not quell. Extending his arms a shimmering barrier surrounded the area and he let out a piercing scream, a sound of anger and grief made from the vocal chords of one who was man, beast, and god. Its tones penetrated the shielding, causing countless dreamers in Gaea's Star to inexplicably startle awake. He panted, drawing in another deep breath, knowing he must dispel this venom before he could face another living soul.

* * *

Rowmeow heard the violent distortion of the land below Crystenia. As the first created of their kind he was attuned to their world in ways unfathomable to any other being. He raced through the gardens, his feline ears pressed back against his head as he dashed rapidly towards the portal to transport himself to the source of the destructive energies. Pausing, with his paw hovering uncertainly in the air, he beheld the devastation that lay within the barrier. The land tried to knit and reform in order to repair the deep craters within. Yet its efforts to heal met with another barrage of destruction. The energy inside was slowly being destroyed leaving large scars, scars which became a void of nothingness and chaos.

The small black and white cat sat outside the barrier, watching the c*****e that poured from their heir. Seiken was a unique creature, he did not possess a single soul; he was joined to another, a being of timeless power. He protected and shielded this ancient part of himself, the part the Eortháds worshipped. More often than not he was able to control its primal urges.

Only once before had he lost control, and that had related to the claiming ritual. It had been a desire he had suppressed from the moment he had realised Zoella had been his soul-mate. She had insisted he embraced it should he wish to call her his wife. It had been a wise decision, had she not been prepared to risk the danger then their mating would have destroyed her own essence almost completely. This, however, was a different reaction, and Rowmeow could not fathom what could stir such pain and anguish. The cat closed his eyes to confirm both Zoella and Alana were safe and well, and then simply watched, waiting for their prince to tire.

When the barest slither of life remained within Seiken's isolating ward, he sank to his knees upon the small butte, exhausted. Rowmeow fractured the barrier with a swipe of his paw, allowing energy to rush inside to mend the ravaged land. Using subtle manipulation, he created a walkway to allow his approach, before releasing the energies to allow them to focus on repairing the more extensive damage. Seiken's bowed head snapped up, turning to look at the approaching figure. His eyes burned with tired fury.

“Prophecies,” he growled, clenching his fists so tightly that his nails drew blood. He felt the power rising again, but this time he succeeded in restraining it.

“Alana? Worry not, we don't have a sage here, we—”

“Thea. She gave the Wita a prophecy when last we visited,” he fumed through gritted teeth.

“As long as he doesn't—”

“I found out because Alessia wanted to know how much she had known, after they had confirmed the danger to be real.” He dropped his gaze towards the ground where the grass slowly began to grow upon the freshly formed land. “Why, Row? We have a child. What cruel fate would give her this curse?” Rowmeow approached, nuzzling his head against Seiken's arm.

“Seiken, I'm sorry.”

“We have a child,” he repeated softly, wiping his damp cheeks. “We were happy.”

“I'm sorry. She doesn't deserve this, none of you do. But staying here solves nothing.” He nudged Seiken again, encouraging him to his feet. “Have you told her?”

“No, how can I?” he whispered, following Rowmeow with a defeated slump as he led him back towards the portal. They had barely reached the garden when Seiken felt the pull of the summons. He gave an exhausted, resigned sigh.

“You sent for the Wita?” Rowmeow questioned, feeling Seiken grant permission to the Cynocephali to permit his guest entry.

“What else could I have done?” he asked dejectedly. Rowmeow looked to him with what could only be interpreted as regret before he excused himself, allowing Seiken to greet Daniel alone. Seiken gave a heavy sigh, his limbs now burning from the earlier exertion.

“Lord Seiken.” Daniel offered a polite greeting as he moved to stand beside his friend. Concern crossed his brow as he noticed Seiken's haggard appearance.

“Wita,” he acknowledged respectfully. “Did the Commander not accompany you?” he questioned after a short moment of silence.

“No.” Daniel thought back to their return to Kalia. Alessia had seemed strangely troubled and had barely spoken since her conversation with Zo. When Daniel had said he was prepared to leave she had been with the Thegnalar, deep in what appeared to be a solemn conversation. Glancing up to him, almost apologetically, she had requested he attended alone. On reaching the irfeláfa Daniel had looked back with a feeling of strange foreboding. But, when he sought insight from the ancients as to its cause, all voices were silent. “Is… is Zo in trouble?” he questioned.

“Daniel, Thea has awakened the power of prophecy. She is the first to receive such insight in Darrienia for many of your cycles.”

“That's fantastic!” Daniel's enthusiasm died the instant he saw Seiken's expression harden. “Isn't it?”

“No.” He paused for a moment, before bringing himself to look at Daniel once more. “The last prophet struck their own name from the Pillar of Life many cycles ago, as had those who awakened before them. They sought to extinguish this bane and spare others the suffering.”

“They took their own lives?” he questioned uncertainly. “Zo, is she…”

“She's well, for now. She doesn't know about any of this. She can't.” Seiken released his clenched fist, attempting to breathe some tension from his body.

“Then why bring me here?”

“In order to ensure there were no prophets in Darrienia we also had to ensure we possessed no sages. That way, even if the trait awakened it could not be realised. A new prophet can only give their first prophecies to a sage. For the ability to take root the sage must then validate it by visual confirmation of its passing.”

“What Zo said, about Xantara, that was a prophecy?”

“Yes, and your journey to Kerõs validated it, allowing the curse to manifest. So now, as much as it pains me to do so, I must ask for you to go to her and document any insight revealed.” Seiken turned his gaze towards the amber skies with a heavy sigh, blinking back the tears he knew he could not afford to shed.

“Why? Surely if a prophecy can only be taken by a sage keeping her away from me would be the answer.” Daniel focused upon the castle before them, trying to allow Seiken's raw emotions the privacy they warranted. He was clearly struggling to keep himself composed, anger and despair radiated from him.

“It would, had you not validated the first. Now the gift has awakened we must release her dependency on a sage. To do so, she must present you with two more.”

“And if she doesn't?”

“The pain of suppressing them will become unbearable.”

“She'll die?” Daniel shuddered as he heard Seiken cough out a bitter chuckle.

“Die? Her name is not upon the Pillar, her existence, like my own, is no longer finite.” Seiken saw the realisation in Daniel's horror-filled eyes. “And now you understand.”

* * *

Within Crystenia were many nooks and crannies, secret rooms, warded areas, and studies. Such things had been necessary to ensure Seiken's presence as a child had remained unnoticed, until such a time came that he could step into another Oneiroi's role. The room in which Daniel now sat was a grand study. It was an area normally reserved for the meetings of the newly forming ministry. A large heptagonal table stood central within the vast space. Its positioning below the glowing crystal chandelier, which hung from the tall roof, ensured ample lighting to any wishing to peruse the many tomes that lined the seemingly endless bookshelves.

Despite the vast quantity of literature, it was not a library. As Daniel sat, he admired the deep chestnut glow of the wooden table before allowing his gaze to stray to the spines of the books, which appeared to be texts belonging to specific people. This realisation allowed him to recall how Oneiroi literature also served to record anything they encountered. A book, in their hands, could display the knowledge they had accumulated. Time was infinite, and facts, laws, and myths forever changed. To document such history would be near impossible, and as such this method had been conceived in order to allow all events, which the Oneirois bore witness to, to be recalled. The tomes within the bookshelf he currently observed seemed to belong mainly to Rowmeow.

With a stretch Daniel rose to his feet, ambling towards the bookshelf. His fingers traced the smooth wooden surface before selecting one of the many volumes. Removing it he peered inside discovering, as he had suspected, the pages held no wisdom for him. With a disheartened sigh he slid the leather-bound tome back into place. As he returned to the table his gaze inadvertently met Zo's, and he looked away, lowering his vision to the blank parchment before him as he sat. His sight burned into the blotting ink left upon the page from when he had first taken the quill in hand, and brought him to question if such attention to detail was necessary in a world where all he beheld was merely energy.

“Daniel?” Zo prompted. Several minutes ago, when she had been escorted to this room, she had been overjoyed to see her friend. But the awkwardness of his greeting, and his subsequent descent into silence had unnerved her. He refused to look at her and, whilst she had asked him before, she found it once more necessary to ask the reason for his presence.

“Zo, I…” He puffed out a deep breath, his mind diverting to the question if something such as breathing was required here. After all, when he crossed to this realm he too became pure energy, and only when he returned to the mortal realm would his corporeal form be solidified once more.

“Look, I don't know what I've done, but first Seiken, now you. If you don't mind, unless I am a prisoner, I have better things I can be doing than, well, whatever this is.” Zo stood, marching towards the door, pulling on it firmly she realised it was stuck. She rattled the handle, straining and shoving against it, but it refused to grant her leave. “What is this?” she demanded, gesturing towards her sealed escape. “Am I a prisoner? Do I at least get to know what I'm meant to have done?”

“Zo, I'm here to record prophecy,” he answered softly, his attention never lifting from the parchment. He watched as another drop of ink slid from the end of the quill, the nearly silent impact against the parchment seemed so loud. He traced the extending outline of the blot, not trusting himself to look upon her.

“Then do so. I don't see why I have to be here too.”

“I'm here to record your words, not ones already spoken.” He heard Zo give a frustrated sigh as she returned to the table, dragging the chair across the wooden floor before unceremoniously dropping herself onto it with yet another exasperated sigh.

“I tried to tell Seiken, and now I'll tell you. I do not have visions. How much clearer can I be about this?” she snapped, her patience wearing thin. “It's nearly time for Alana's nap. Please, can we just forget this nonsense?”

“Zo, you warned me about Xantara. How could you have known if you didn't see it?” Daniel touched the quill to the paper, spreading the ink blots and joining them with intricate lines.

“I was tired. I was probably daydreaming.”

“Oneirois don't dream.” Zo sat taller, opening her mouth ready to impart wisdom upon her misinformed friend, but before she could speak another voice silenced her. His gentle tones almost apologetic at intruding.

“Any progress?” Seiken sealed the door behind him, ensuring it would not open until he was prepared. Placing a tray—holding a small candelabrum and a bowl of fruit—upon the table his gaze flitted over the blank parchment. Zo smiled by instinct as his vision turned to her, but it was a greeting he returned emptily.

“Have I done something wrong?” Zo questioned, rising to step between Seiken and break the focused stare he directed towards the Wita. She shivered against the sudden chill, her breath escaping her chattering teeth in plumes as she turned to lock vision with Daniel in demand of an answer. “Will someone ple—” her breath caught, instead of seeing her friends her gaze became transfixed upon the candles. She felt the heat radiating from the fire as her flesh cooled. The golden orange embers crackled softly, drawing her towards them. She squeezed her eyes closed, yet still the flame remained in sight. The world around her burned, devouring all until everything became the same hue as the fire. Attempting to ground herself she forced her gaze to stray beyond the flame, finally turning her back to it in the hope of beholding Seiken. But he no longer stood behind her. She turned again, seeing only the pure white whips of distant clouds far beneath her feet as the frigid air enveloped her.

Light exploded all around her, the radiant beams rushing towards the ground below as they were forced from the unfamiliar landmass that hovered above. She heard a voice, the pain of hearing the ancient words caused her to clamp her hands tightly against her ears. It was loud, deafening, and powerful. Above her she saw the island tremble as another ray of light erupted from its jagged base.

“Talaria will fall,” she whispered, repeating the words of the voice and understanding what she saw.

Zo gasped for breath, a new scene coming into focus. Blood-stained hands held her tightly as she fought against the stifling grip while drawing ragged breaths. It was a moment before she realised the warm touch upon her frigid flesh belonged to Seiken, and the blood upon his hands was hers. She felt the dampness on her face from her eyes and ears. Her sight sought his face, he looked concerned, afraid. His mouth moved, but she could hear nothing. Daniel skidded across the table to land beside her, a damp cloth already in his hand. He dabbed her face before relinquishing the duty to her husband, excusing himself a few paces to collect the inkwell which had sent the blue fluid spilling across the desk's surface, soaking into wood and parchment alike.

Seiken stroked her hair and, noticing her eyes were now open, attempted to offer a smile. He glanced towards Daniel and nodded. The etching of his quill across the paper was the first sound she heard.

“Talaria will fall,” Daniel whispered, echoing the words Zo herself had spoken just moments ago. Her view of him was obstructed by the table, but she heard the unmistakable quiver in his voice. Seiken pulled her close, holding her to his chest in a strong embrace. She closed her eyes, relishing the warmth and energy his embrace sent flooding back into her.

“I'm sorry, Thea,” Seiken whispered. He had hoped to be wrong that, somehow, she had witnessed events as she dreamt and thought to repeat what she had seen to Daniel. In his heart he had known the truth and felt the rage of this revelation, this curse, and yet he had still been foolish enough to find hope.