PROLOGUE

Two Hearts Beat as One

Octobre 30, 5583

 

On the planet Kepler, in the land of Chelt, an ancient prophecy foretold of this day.

Theleisium, a human mage of some repute, awoke to the thunder of rain pounding on the roof of his cottage. The roof practically vibrated with the impact of the falling drops, which were large enough to hurt if a person happened to be caught outside in the storm. He shook his head and found himself hoping that the deluge would let up during the day, for they would be outside almost half the night.

He rose from his bed, stretched, groaned a bit, and slipped into his dark blue robe. It was tattered and torn at the ends where it brushed the wooden floor. There were holes where the sleeves were sewn to the main body of the robe, but most of the thread remained.

Theleisium looked down and swatted at his belly, causing little puffs of dust to billow outward. He rubbed his hands down the cloth, trying to press out the wrinkles. The wrinkles persisted, refusing to disappear.

He walked over to the mirror above the washbasin, dipped his hands in, and then lifted them to his hair, running his hands back over the unruly mess. Theleisium moved his fingers through his hair in place of the comb he did not own. He did this a few more times until his black shoulder-length hair, which was sprinkled with gray, was slicked back. The mage looked at his reflection in the small mirror over the washbasin and wetted down his short closely-cropped beard. It came to a point a couple of inches below his chin and ran along the border of his jawline, no thicker than his pinky. The hair on his chin was noticeably grayer than the rest of his beard.

Sighing, he turned away from his reflection and gazed out one of the windows. “Geez,” he said as he shook his head at the sight of the water pouring down from the heavens above. “That doesn’t look good.”

Alizabet the Enchantress was already awake and in front of the pot-bellied stove making breakfast when Theleisium stepped out of the bedroom. The smell of eggels, frying wild bloar baquan, and toasty bread filled the cottage. She plated their morning meal and placed it on the wooden table that rested under a triangular window. Theleisium made his way over to the table and sat down.

“Thank you, Alizabet,” he said, picking up a fork. He scooped up some eggels, but did not move them into his mouth. Instead, he sat staring at them, lost in thought. For today was the day of the Aramis Prophecy, and he had not had anything but this on his mind for a long, long time. Today was the day for which he and Alizabet had been painstakingly preparing.

Alizabet sat down opposite him and nodded. She understood what he was thinking. The future of all the intelligent races in Chelt was in their hands. What they would do that evening would either save or doom everyone.

Both of them were nervous enough that they found themselves picking at the food on their plates rather than eating it. When they did eventually take a bite, neither tasted their meal, as they were too busy pondering the consequences of their possible failure. The fate of all of those in Chelt was at a tipping point, and only they seemed to realize it.

After a silent breakfast, Theleisium and Alizabet began gathering all the materials they would require to perform the intricate spell they would cast that evening. They took their time, making sure they did not forget anything, as one small mistake, either in the items they needed or in their spell-weaving ability, could have major repercussions. Maybe the prophecy would not come to fruition at all, or maybe they might somehow alter what was supposed to occur? Neither of them knew what would happen if something went wrong, only that if it did, it could change everything, and not for the better.

The day dragged on and the two made small talk, but it did not help the time pass any more quickly. As the suns crested the heavens and began their downward trek across the sky, time seemed to crawl ever more slowly. Theleisium spent an hour watching a beatle make its way across the ceiling. It felt like half a day had passed when the small creature finally made its way outside through a gap in the boards.

As the afternoon wore on, the rain slackened until it had mostly disappeared, but still fell as a light mist. Alizabet stood before the large window in the living room gazing into the slowly darkening forest. Brumel, the larger of the two suns, and Pasq, were well past zenith and headed for the horizon.

An hour before sunsset, Theleisium and Alizabet left the cottage with their materials loaded into their backsacks and made their way at a good clip to the location specified by the Aramis Prophecy: a thick circle of horaft trees about three myles away. The Latibule Forest was mainly composed of piney trees, so these horafts, which were hidden in the middle of the forest, stood out like a sore thumb; at least that is what Alizabet thought.

As Theleisium and Alizabet entered the circle, the horaft trees, sensing that something monumental was about to happen, bent their branches over the openings between them and blocked the rain from falling onto the mage and the enchantress.

Alizabet looked up at the sound of branches creaking and leaves rustling, and smiled as the rainfall dwindled and eventually stopped falling onto their heads. “Thank you,” she whispered to the trees and gave a small bow.

The horaft trees creaked in reply.

As the suns began to set, Theleisium turned to the enchantress and said, “You know, Alizabet, we have to get this right on the first try. There won’t be another opportunity to try this again. It’s all or nothing.”

She looked up into his gray eyes and nodded. “That’s my biggest worry. I know we’ve practiced and practiced, for so long, but this spell-weaving is incredibly complicated. We’re combining and intertwining our two magics with a third type of magic that we have very little knowledge about. We must not make a mistake.”

“And, we won’t,” Theleisium replied, giving her a small smile, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Alizabet smiled back and clasped her hands together. She nodded in agreement.

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the twilight as thunder rolled over the drenched hills. It began to rain heavily, drops pounding on the leaves all about them. The horaft trees hunched together, drawing in tighter, trying to protect the humans below. As the suns set behind the western ocean, the wind picked up and started howling through the trees. The horaft trees dug their roots deeper into the ground, determined to form a layer of protection for the magic users below.

Both the mage and the enchantress looked around the ring of horaft trees and felt secure in their surroundings. The time felt right.

Theleisium looked at Alizabet, nodded, and said, “It’s time.”

Putting his backsack on the ground at his feet, he reached down into the opening at the top and pulled out the yellow sulfur powder, which he had obtained from a hot spring in Scoria years before. He poured a small amount onto the toes of his boots and then onto Alizabet’s leather sandals.

Theleisium removed his wand from his sleeve and pointed at Alizabet’s feet. “Élëctrónîs ib jêrstíöùs,” he said as the sulfur on Alizabet’s sandals and feet flashed and disappeared.

Alizabet jumped a little and said with a grin, “Oh, that tickles.”

Theleisium then repeated the spell while pointing at his own boots. The same yellow flash occurred. Because he knew that water conducted electricity, the spell he just cast on their feet would insulate them from any lightning strikes on the saturated ground, if any happened to strike nearby.

Alizabet removed two perfectly round globes of amber from her backsack and waited for Theleisium. The globes of pure amber, mined by the now missing Blackbeard Dwarves of Mt. Forsaken, had been shaped by Theleisium’s magic and were about four inches across. Once the mage put his wand away, Alizabet handed one of the globes to him and said, “I’m ready.”

“We are almost ready,” Theleisium replied as he placed his amber globe in his right pocket and removed a gourd filled with obsidian dust from his backsack. Walking while he poured a thin line, he made a circle of the dust around both he and Alizabet. Straightening up, he whispered a few magical words, and a glowing green force field sprung up around them and closed in over their heads. It was there to protect them from any falling debris, but air could still pass through it.

Theleisium looked into Alizabet’s eyes and said grimly, “This is what we’ve practiced for all these years.” After putting the gourd away, he wiped his sweaty palms down the side of his robe. “I’m ready to bring the prophecy to life.”

“For the sake of us all, let’s hope that we get this right,” Alizabet replied, nodding. “Let me rephrase that . . . we will get this right.”

“Yes, we must,” the mage replied, smiling nervously. “Let’s get started.”

He took the amber globe out of his pocket and held it in his hand. The two magic users stood face-to-face and balanced the globes on the palms of their right hands. Theleisium nodded to Alizabet, which was the signal to start the spell-weaving. As they began to slowly chant, they each placed their left hand on top of the other’s amber globe. Both globes started to glow ever so faintly.

They closed their eyes and continued chanting, slowly gaining both in volume and speed. As they wove their spells together, the light inside each of the globes grew. The amber magic within each of the globes began to mix with the spell-weaving.

The wind picked up and began attacking the forest, as if it sensed something momentous was happening and was trying to stop it. The horaft trees hunkered down and interwove their branches even tighter, protecting the two frail humans below them. As the potency of the magic increased, the storm clouds overhead began to boil. Lightning flashed out in all directions, and the sound of thunder boomed rapidly throughout the night, sounding like a herd of unicorns galloping across hollow logs. The trees thrashed back and forth in the night, resisting the gale-force winds. The ground vibrated from the sound constant thunder.

Time passed quickly for Theleisium and Alizabet, lost in their spell-weaving. It was exactly the opposite of what their morning had been. Hours now seemed like minutes.

Tendrils of magic flowed around the two of them. The spells they were weaving together melded, broke apart, and then reformed. Each time this happened, the potency of the spells increased. Leaves and small branches swirled around the two at an ever increasing rate. The force field began to hum, at first no louder than a whisper, but slowly growing in volume until it almost drowned out the two magic users. As swirling branches and leaves met the force field, they were zapped into ash, which was whisked away by the wind.

After four hours of spell-weaving, the two magic users felt that the end was near. The magic was almost at its peak of power. Theleisium and Alizabet were exhausted, both mentally and physically. The two of them, nearing collapse, swayed on their feet, but they kept spell-weaving. The magic was the only thing keeping them upright. Suddenly, a particularly thick lightning bolt struck one of the horaft trees. The horaft screamed in pain and shuddered as a large branch sheared off and came loose from the tangle of branches over the humans’ heads. The other trees reached out and tried to catch the branch as it started to fall, but it was wet and slipped through their wooden grasp.

The branch thumped down to the ground just five feet from Alizabet, just outside the force field. The sudden impact shook the ground and startled her, causing her to pause her spell casting . . . for just a fraction of a second. Realizing this, she quickly caught back up with Theleisium, hoping he would not notice. In his utter exhaustion, he did not seem to; however, the damage had been done.

A few moments later, the spell-weaving climaxed with a crackle of energy. The amber globes suddenly exploded into fine dust with brilliant flashes of light and two deafening booms. The force field that was protecting the two humans from the weather sputtered and then collapsed. The energy of the explosion threw the spell-weavers backward across the open area.

The winds swept the amber dust away into the night.

Theleisium and Alizabet lay on the ground, exhausted beyond belief. Theleisium had a small smile on his lips as he fell into a deep sleep while Alizabet, worried about the slip-up she had made, had a frown on her face as she passed out. She had no idea what would happen due to her slight hesitation moments before. She hoped it would not alter what Brother Aramis had foreseen.

The amber dust from both globes swirled through the night, twirling and spinning around each other, winding their way through the forest at break-neck speed. The dust was supposed to coalesce into one cloud, but something appeared to have gone wrong. The two dust clouds danced and twisted around each other, swirling in and out of the piney trees, but did not merge. Eventually the dust clouds separated and went off in different directions. One of the dust clouds headed north toward Strudhyne, the capital city of the blorcs, where King Gridarg Zogstomp ruled over his subjects. As the dust circled the city of twenty thousand souls, it entered the open window of the king’s chamber. The dust floated over the head of the pregnant queen, who was fast asleep in an enormous bed. The queen groaned as the cloud settled over her face, and she inhaled it all in one breath. She squirmed a little and settled back into a peaceful sleep, albeit one filled with loud blorcish snoring. The dust was absorbed into her body via her lungs and traveled through her bloodstream to her baby, where it merged with every fiber of his being. For one brief moment, the unborn child glowed brightly with the color of amber, and then the light faded.

That night, a prince was born and a queen was lost.

* * * * *

Far to the east, on the other side of the Jade Mountain Range at the southern end of the Tenebrous Forest, in a small human village, a young pregnant woman and her husband were fast asleep in their bed.

From the outside, their front door was viciously kicked open, causing it to fly across the main area of their small, country home, and smash into the fireplace, where flames quickly started licking their way up the dry wood. Both Whindy and her husband, Darnnett, ran into the main room to find a slime troll standing in the doorway, grinning. He held a huge club in his right hand and was smacking his left palm with it. Slime oozed out of every orifice of the disgusting creatures even his pores. He wiped his face with one hand, gathering some of the slime, and flung the disgusting, sticky liquid to the ground with a loud splat.

“Me hungry!” he roared and charged into the house, bonking his head on the top of the doorway. “Ow,” he said, rubbing his head with his free hand.

Darnnett sprinted forward, grabbed the fireplace poker in his right hand, and charged the monster. He met the slime troll in the middle of the room where the two began to battle. Realizing that the only way out of the house was the front door, Darnnett circled around the slime troll so that the door was now to his back.

Whindy had moved into the kitchen area of the large, open room and stood clasping her hands to her chest, a panicked look on her face.

Darnnett ran at the slime troll, and at the last second, leapt upward and used his body weight to slam into the wet, gooey enemy. The large beast stumbled backward into the bedroom.

“Run, Whindy!” he shouted, stabbing the fireplace poker into the left eye of the slime troll.

The slime troll bellowed in rage.

Whindy looked around in panic. She did not want to leave her husband behind, especially since they were expecting their first child any day now, but what other choice did she have? She quickly made her way to the front entryway, looking back once more to see her husband valiantly battling the monster that was almost twice his size. As she ran outside, she was stopped in her tracks because of the devastation around her. Slime trolls were everywhere, human bodies lay in the muddy streets, and the village was burning. She could hear the cries of her friends as the slime trolls made their way through the village killing everything in sight, be it human or animal.

As she heard her husband scream out a battle cry that was suddenly silenced, she understood that Darnnett was gone. Knowing that he had sacrificed himself for the sake of their unborn child, Whindy quickly made her way into the shadows and escaped into the night.

Crying softly to herself, she hurried through the dark forest, stumbling over roots and bushes, scraping herself on branches that slapped at her as she ran blindly through the night. She knew the land well and headed for the only safety she could think of. Shortly, she found herself before a large cliff that stretched toward the stars above. Having played here as a young girl, she knew of a small cave about a quarter of the way up the cliff face. Scrambling up the cliff in the dark while pregnant was vastly harder than she remembered from her youth. It didn’t help that the tears in her eyes made it hard for her to focus on handholds. Whindy clawed her way up to the entrance, still in a panic, and crawled into the oppressive darkness of the opening. She collapsed in exhaustion on the stone floor, panting from the exertion.

Seemingly lost, the second amber dust cloud searched for the human queen and hovered over the burning village. Sensing no human queen here, the dust moved on, moving slower than it had before. The energy of the magic was starting to fade, and it had little time left before it disappeared altogether. The dust cloud swirled away from the village and made its way toward a large cliff where it sensed something.

Inside the cave, fearful of being found, Whindy curled into a ball, breathing as quietly as she could. Whindy had spent the last few minutes quietly crying for Darnnett and the loss of all of her friends and family until exhaustion overtook her. As her breathing slowed and sleep found her, the amber dust cloud entered the cave. The dust circled Whindy, then dove into her open mouth and made its way to the unborn child inside her. The cave briefly glowed amber and then faded.

The slime trolls in the forest had not seen the glow, but someone else had.

A large dog, standing thirteen hands high at the shoulder, crept toward the cliff face. Extending his claw-like fingers, which were retractable like a cat’s claws, but made of flesh and blood, Angustus climbed the wall of stone and dirt. As he crested the lip of the ledge outside the entrance to the cave, he sniffed . . . and smelled blood. He made his way carefully into the cave until he stood over the dying woman and the newborn babe lying on the now slick, wet floor. The baby looked up at him and closed her eyes, as if she were ready to meet her fate.

Whindy’s eyes focused on the canine, and then the color in them seemed to drain as the woman took her last breath.

“I wonder what we have here,” Angustus whispered to himself.

Hearing his voice, the baby opened her amber eyes and stared at him.

The dog could sense the magic radiating from the baby and was instantly overcome with a need to protect the young human. Something within him stirred. An overwhelming sense of protection for this tiny creature at his pawhand enveloped him. He bent down and touched his forehead to the baby and pledged, “I’ll never let any harm come to you.” The baby gurgled happily, her hands brushing the coat on his neck.

Angustus licked the baby clean, severed the umbilical cord with a quick snap of his jaws, and then carefully lifted the newborn child. He grabbed the small towel his wife had wrapped his midday meal in, shook out the dewshine pie crumbs, and wrapped the baby in it. Then, very gently, he placed her in the leather pouch he had belted to his harness. Securing the infant tightly inside, he closed the top flap and used the clasp to lock it.

Angustus turned and bounded out of the cave, easily jumping the long distance to the ground, landed softly, and began to run. He practically flew through the forest, swerving around trees and launching himself off of boulders. His eyes, which could almost see as easily at night as they did during the day, scanned the forest for any signs of danger while his large upright ears took in all the sounds around him. Small animals scampered out of his way as his mighty paws thumped on the ground, setting up a rhythmic beat that almost sounded like music. Branches slapped at his body as he sped over the ground, his heavy breathing carrying him closer to home. He covered the twelve myles back to his home in the Sherran Hills quickly, instinctively knowing that a human baby was a fragile thing that needed care, just like any welcorg pup.

* * * * *

As the glow of the Brumel lit the new day, Theleisium opened his sleep-crusted eyes and looked around. He and Alizabet were still inside the small grove. They were relatively dry, as the trees overhead still had their branches woven together to block out any rain that might have fallen during the remainder of the night, but his backside felt damp. He rose and stretched, wiping a leaf away from his cheek and pulling some twigs out of his hair. He tried, quite unsuccessfully, to wipe the dirt and dried mud from his back. His body was sore from the exertion of the night before and from being thrown backward by the blast. Theleisium reached out magically, searching for the mystical currents that stretched over the land of Chelt. He could feel that something had changed. Something was different. He smiled and hoped that he and Alizabet had succeeded in bringing the Aramis Prophecy to life.

Joyfully, Theleisium spun around on one foot a couple of times, his arms outstretched. Now things will change, and there is finally hope! Hope for the humans. Hope for the elves. Hope for the dwarves. And even hope for the blorcs, I guess, he thought.

The mage walked over to his companion, squatted down, and gently shook Alizabet’s shoulder.

“Alizabet, the first sun is rising and it’s a glorious day,” he said, smiling and stretching again as he stood, his back sore from the hard ground. “We were successful. I feel it in my bones. We must return home and prepare for the next stage of the prophecy.”

Alizabet blinked her eyes and sat up, groaning as she did so. Her bloodshot eyes stared up at Theleisium and she attempted a smile, but her doubts caused it to look more like a grimace. She hoped that all had gone as they hoped, but something in the pit of her stomach told her that it had not.

Something had gone wrong last night when the branch had fallen and disrupted their chant, she just knew it. Something had gone very wrong . . .