“Sarí,” said Fàethaer. “This is Gwen and Adam. They shall spend the night here, in our village. They were attacked by the Skolliir under Seniphos’s control.”

“Kvikr!” she cursed. “Seniphos is out to kill everyone! Are you two alright?”

“No,” I said. “I can’t move my right leg because of the poison that was in their arrows.”

“Come,” said Sarí. “We shall find Aurelia, the village healer. She is our only spellcaster here in Ál’vain, so she might just be able to help you. She won’t be able to heal you completely, but she can heal your leg, I think. Let us be off.” Sarí walked out of the tent, and Gwendolyn caught up with her outside. They walked out behind the tent and kept walking. In the distance, the thick, green forest where they would be heading emerged above the horizon. Sarí walked briskly towards a medium sized tent that was secluded from the rest. There was a wooden door in the entrance flaps, and it was adorned with odd symbols. The tent was red, and just as they neared the door, a woman’s voice rand out from inside.

“Come in,” she said. We entered the tent vigilantly, following close behind Sarí, who seemed undeterred by the person inside the tent knowing of their presence. I was carried into the large tent, and placed onto a leafy bed not unlike the one that had been found in Fàethaer’s tent. I looked around. Scrolls littered a mahogany coloured desk along with loose pages, thick books and diagrams of plants. Jars and jars gilded the sides of the tent on bookshelves with herbs and plants and oddly coloured liquids. A knitted rug with several different colours occupied the whole floor. I looked up at the lady that sat at the desk. She, too, was young. Her violet eyes flashed as she looked up at me. Her sleek black hair fell across her face as she stood from her seat. She wore many jingling bracelets fashioned from common materials, and spinning earrings decorated her earlobes. She was wearing a black dress that cut up her legs in a diagonal line. She did not look like any of the other Nomads, but rather much more attractive.

She turned to Sarí, her dark hair tumbling down her back as she did. “My lady,” she said, curtsying.

“That’s unnecessary Aurelia,” said Sarí. “I have need of your assistance.”

“Granted,” said the woman.

“That boy,” said Sarí. “He cannot move his right leg. Him and his friend were attacked by the Skolliir under Seniphos’s command, shot by poisoned arrows.” Aurelia frowned, and I felt something brush against my mind, like a pervasive consciousness. Tendrils stretched out through my mind, and probed it, sifting through my thoughts and memories.

 “We were just wondering if you might be able to cure his leg movement so that he could at least walk on it,” said Gwendolyn.

“I could,” said Aurelia. “But it would hurt when he moved it. I cannot extricate poison in one day. It would take three days for me to do so, and even then, it would not be completely cured. In a few more days, it would be paralyzed again.”

“Would you rather wait here three more days, or have to carry him wherever you are going?” asked Sarí.

“Um…” Gwendolyn paused for minutes, brooding over the decision that was to be made. “We’ll stay the three days, please.”

“Alright,” said Aurelia.

I know who you two are, a voice said. Elf princess and Drëngr du Veykva. You cannot hide this from me, for I am a spellcaster just as you are. I am the one who will help you. My name is Aurelia. I stand before you, but I speak through mental contact with my spellcaster abilities.

I jumped as the consciousness retracted itself from me, and Sarí began to speak again. “I will see to it that you two have a tent with… two mattresses?”

“Please,” said Gwendolyn.

“So it’s set,” replied Sarí. “Aurelia, you may proceed to work on his leg. I must attend to their place of residence for the next three days.” On that note, Sarí was out of the tent in three long strides, Gwendolyn following close behind her. The door swung close behind them, and Aurelia walked over to kneel next to me.

“Why have you brought an elf into our village, O’ Warrior of Light?” asked Aurelia

Confused, I sat up from my position on the bed. “Warrior of Light?”

“Oh? You are unaware of your destiny, it seems. Were you not told by the elf princess? She did not explain to you the reason why you are here, in Gaëlea?”

“She told me that I would die from the Skolliir wounds if I did not come here with her. Is there something else?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Aurelia. “There is a prophecy, written in the ancient times by the Circle of Seven, the Skìllingr Kykvendí.”

“The Skillenger Kikvandi?” I asked, mispronouncing the words greatly.

“It’s pronounced Sky-ling-er Kik-ven-die. They were a group of seven powerful spellcasters who came together to create the Gaëlean magic language, known as Sköruligr—The Primordial Language. Some of them could see the future, and they wrote down what they saw in an antique book. That book remained unnamed, so that it would be harder to locate. The unnamed book had a prophecy written on a page that was ripped out of it by the Skìllingr Kykvendí, and they tossed it into the winds of the Fyst Desert so that a villager may find it and read it out to his family.

“This prophecy was found, discovered by humans that were hiding in the Fyst Desert from Seniphos—who is immortal, so he still lives today. The man who found it showed his family, who brought it back to their homes and showed the village. And so the word was spread throughout all of Gaëlea that a prophecy foretold by the Skìllingr Kykvendí had been discovered. Even Lord Seniphos learned of this divination, and sought to destroy the one who would fulfill it. The secrets of the written vision were passed down, generation to generation, and I have never lost hope in it.

“I was told the secrets by my father before he was killed by Lord Seniphos himself, and I have never forgotten that day, though it was about a decade and a half ago. He told me the prophecy, and how it told of a boy who would bring the Dark Age to an end. That boy holds the title of the Drëngr du Veykva, the Warrior of Light, because he will plunge Gaëlea out into the light again by defeating Lord Seniphos and his great beast. The Skìllingr Kykvendí  said that the Warrior of Light has the initials of the beginnings of time, the alphabet of humans, elves, dwarves, and all races of Gaëlea: A.A.”

I sat on the bed thinking about what she had just said. The legend overwhelmed me as I thought about the last thing that she’d said. The Skìllingr Kykvendí  said that the Warrior of Light has the initials of the beginnings of time, the alphabet of humans, elves, dwarves, and all races of Gaëlea: A.A. I thought about my own name. Adam Auric. A.A.

I’m the Drëngr du Veykva… I’m supposed to kill an evil king… oh crap.

“You,” said Aurelia. “You are the Drëngr du Veykva, Adam Auric, you are the one who must save Gaëlea from Lord Seniphos’s evil clutches. It is your destiny. So it was foretold by the Skìllingr Kykvendí. You are to kill Seniphos before he conquers the land and releases his beast!”

The End

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