Pain. So strong I know I am dying. It fills my entire body as my heart pulses painfully inside my chest. Quick hands press something cooling to my side and a bandage is wrapped around my pained body. Consciousness is something I no longer desire. I want to sink back down into the sheer bliss of dark coolness, silence, painlessness.
Firm hands grip my shoulders and the person shakes me causing my eyelids to fall open. I am in a nightmare. There is no other explanation for the face I see. It is beyond ugly; hideous. Deep scars cris-cross it as if the flat face was once used for a cutting board. The skin is taut and rough like ancient leather and bushy eyebrows adorn the top of her face. She is leaning over me, the concern barely discernible in the wreck of her face, but her eyes . . . they are beautiful. They hold a paralyzing sadness there. I close my eyes; shielding myself from their depths.
She spoons a strange type of broth into my parched lips and I can barely taste it as it passes over my swollen tongue to the back of my throat.
“Who are you?” I manage to croak. It is hard to speak and she probably can’t understand my barely audible voice anyhow.
“Shh. You will know later.” Her voice is like wheels over gravel and deep as the roar of the ocean. I reach a hand to tentatively touch her gnarled fingers and she flinches.
“What is your name?” I try again. I don’t know why, but it’s important; I must know.
“Sage.” She continues to feed me and my eyes close.
“How long have I been out?” I murmur softly, my thoughts drifting toward sleep.
“A full moon.” The words hardly concern my barely conscious mind and eventually I fall asleep. As I sink back into unconsciousness my mind releases the images of the hideous face and I return to my own thoughts and dreams that I have visited so often these past days.
A dream overtakes me and I allow its burden-free lightness to overcome me. But this time a glowing presence awaits there instead of the eternal darkness that normally greets me. A creature stands in the middle of the light but it is impossible to tell what exactly it is. An angelic voice starts to speak, gentle and encouraging.
“At last, Zavier, we meet.” The light pulses and I stare transfixed. “You have finally come to us. You must heal quickly, Zavier, our time draws nearer everyday and still you lay there, unconscious of everything.” I don’t understand the meaning of the words which are spoken and maul them over and over again inside my aching head.
“Victor is waiting for you in Wayd. If you hurry you can still reach him before he leaves. We will catch up to you later.” The light slowly fades. I lie unconscious for a long while until hunger finally calls me to life.
I sat up and looked around the leafy clearing I was laying in; Sage was nowhere to be seen. Rising to my feet I found that I could walk without too much pain. The sky was deep blue and the light of the sun shone through the dense trees in the west from where it rose. From a distant recollection I knew that the road to Wayd was in that direction.
As I tried to coax my brain into getting my body to Wayd, I felt something stir within me; a tug on my soul. Something was haunting the forest, haunting me. It called to me; the pull was so strong on my weakened soul that I could do nothing but oblige.
I took a step away from the rising sun and then another. In a few moments I was running through the thick white barked trees, my legs flying. My side pained me slightly but I ignored it. This secret was not one to be ignored.
I ran on and on as the wooded forest passed me by. I was oblivious to it all as my lungs begged me to stop and rest before they perished, but I couldn’t stop. I had to know. Blood was seeping through my thick bandage and leaking down my side; falling in dark red droplets to the ground.
Suddenly I stopped as the summoning force which beckoned me ceased, and my mind cleared as I realized I was there. A small wooden house stood in the midst of the tall spindly trees, smoke twisting away from the red bricked chimney. It had a small wrap-around porch and two flat steps leading to the front door. A warped wooden chair sat on the front porch, an old man occupying it heartily.
The man was overweight and shriveled from age. He wore leather overalls with a thick shirt underneath which long ago might have been white. The man held a long-necked pipe that was emitting a thin green smoke. He took a long suck on the strange pipe, and in breathing out, a cloud of green smoke obscured his face.
“Well hello there.” He lifted a hand in a friendly wave as he caught sight of me and his face creased in a huge whole-hearted smile. I returned the smile meekly and mounted the porch as he beckoned to me. His eyebrows arched up into his long mat of grey bangs.
“You look half starved. Care to join an old lonely man for supper?” He smiled again and I nodded.
“I’d love to-” I paused for a name and the man let out a full bellied laugh, rocking precariously back in his chair.
“You can call me Ted, young man. And what shall I call you?” He peeked at me through one of his bleary brown eyes in a comical way, causing me to smile.
“I’m Zavier.” I looked down at my sticky hand and saw blood covering it. The white bandage wrapped around my waist was now a deep red on one side, oozing blood. A quick intake of breath from Ted sounded as he noticed my point of attention.
“And just how, Zavier, did a young man like you end up acquiring a wound like that?” Ted had risen to his feet and he beckoned for me to follow him into the house.
“It’s really a long story. Let’s just say that I lost and the other man won an unfairly played fight.” Ted nodded as if he knew just what I meant.
The front door led directly to a small cozy kitchen. A black cauldron hung above the fire, filled with a bubbling brown liquid. Ted pointed to a chair and I thankfully sat, my legs seeming on fire and my lungs still struggling for air. I had run far too long and I knew instantly that it might cost me precious days worth of time if I had to wait for the wound to scab over before I could leave.
I no longer felt the strange pull and I wondered inwardly if it all had been a mistake and I should have just gone off to Wayd without a second glance at the woods.
The old man hobbled off, setting his pipe down on the polished wood counter. I looked around the kitchen searching for some aspect or reason why I had been bidden here. But the kitchen seemed normal in every way that I could discern and I sighed.
Ted returned quickly, carrying a bottle of blue powder and a clean bandage. “Here, the powder will stop the bleeding somewhat. Best put a clean bandage on it, maggot infested wounds aren’t a pretty sight at all.” He passed me the two objects and helped remove the old bandage. The wound looked relatively alright. Only a slight redness surrounded it. Other than that it appeared to be healing well, save for a crack down the middle that I had split open in my long and urgent run. The man dumped the soft blue powder onto the wound before quickly wrapping the gauzy bandage around my abdomen.
“There’s that then. Why don’t we eat now?” He disposed of the blood soaked bandage and returned holding two bowls of the steaming goo from the fireplace. I took a sip and sighed from pleasure. The soup was thick and rich. I didn’t recognize any flavors but I was too hungry to worry about it.
“So what brings you here, Zavier?” Ted asked after a short silence, filled only by my steady slurping. I sucked down my mouthful of soup too quickly, burning my throat.
“I don’t really know. I had a… um, feeling to come here,” I tried to explain. “Like a really strong impulse, I guess.”
Ted nodded solemnly then stood from his chair and walked over to the counter where he picked up his pipe. “Come with me.”
I reluctantly got up from my unfinished bowl of soup and followed the man onto his back porch. He sat down on a long wooden bench and patted the space beside him.
“Sit.”
I obeyed and took a seat.
“Tell me what you hear,” he commanded.
“What?”
“Just do it,” he muttered sternly.
I was a bit confused but again; I obeyed. I closed my eyes and strained to listen. I heard the soft fall wind playing through the leaf filled forest and the spindly white-barked trees creaking slightly. A flock of small birds chirped nearby and I could hear them rustling around in the leaves searching for bugs to fill their small bellies with. I could also hear Ted’s raspy uneven breathing, but other than that nothing.
I turned and looked at Ted, confused. He was watching me closely.
“Nothing odd was there?” he asked mysteriously.
“No… just forest noises… and you.” I nodded and a half smile crossed his face.
“Here,” he passed me the long stemmed pipe, “take a whiff of this now.”
I placed the thin wood stem between my teeth and took a long drawl. I don’t really know what I was expecting but it was definitely not what happened. An unpleasant flavor, similar to the smell of rotting flesh, filled my entire mouth and forced itself down my throat into my lungs and my stomach where it churned up my meal which I released onto the porch as my stomach repelled it from my body.
I was bent over double gagging when Ted grabbed the collar of my tunic and pulled me upright.
“What do you hear now!” he demanded.
“What are you talking about, old man-”
“Just listen!” he roared. The tone of his voice scared me but I closed my eyes and struggled to listen. Nothing had changed. I tried harder, Ted’s strong grip unsettling, and at last I heard it. It was a soft angelic whisper, calling to me; filling me with hope and love.
“Do you hear it?” His voice had quieted. Not wanting to interrupt the beautiful noise I was straining to hear; I nodded in answer to Ted’s query and he smiled, all signs of hostility gone.
“Do you know what that is?” he asked excitedly.
I shook my head, the sounds fading from my hearing. “No, I've never heard anything like it before, it's amazing," I murmured, awe filling my voice.
“That, Zavier, is the Mother and Father white warlock, Aria and Arik, keeper and protector of the Diamond Rhombus-”
“Wait- who?” I questioned wearily, “What’s a warlock? Didn’t they go extinct with the Dragons hundreds of years ago? Why do I need to know this-”
“Shh,” Ted hushed me impatiently and I scowled. So far this had been nothing but a waste of my time. “I can’t explain everything, boy, but for right now you need only know of the four warlocks who balance our world, something most humans are too ignorant to remember. Aria and Arik are both white warlocks, their siblings are the black warlocks. It is the wish of the black warlocks to destroy the world.”
“I still don’t understand why I need to know about this,” I grumbled irritably. My mind wandered a bit. I couldn’t for the life of me remember what a warlock was.
“Come inside and finish your meal, I’ll tell you about some of it.” Ted seemed to have heard my thoughts as he rose and motioned for me to follow him back into the warm interior of his house. I obeyed and quickly took my place at the table.
“Warlocks, my dear boy, are people who practice magic-”
“Obviously,” I interjected impatiently, taking up where I had left off with my bowl of soup. Now that the demanding urgency to find the source of the summon had vanished I was impatient to return to Wayd in hopes of finding Victor.
“You wanted an answer didn’t you? Now shush up,” Ted scolded sternly, annoying me. “Warlocks are, like I said before, the protectors and the destroyers of the Diamond Rhombus. They use the power from the heart of the Diamond Rhombus to fuel their own magic. It is a much cleaner and purer magic than the magic of Wizards and Witches, who acquire their magic from a place beyond Space.”
“Please, I have to leave soon,” I begged, scraping the bottom of my bowl, itching to leave as soon as possible. I wasn’t interested in the notions of an ancient race of magic-bearers. It had little or nothing to do with me. Ted sighed wearily.
“Warlocks disappeared from this land six-hundred years ago, the same time as the dragons. People thought them extinct but they are actually more or less in hiding. The king and queen Warlocks live far away on an island at the center of the Diamond Rhombus.”
“And why do you expect me to believe any of this?” I asked tersely, my impatience deepening as the pain from my wound continued to worsen.
“I’m a warlock,” he stated simply, as if that explained everything. I eyed him warily; he didn’t look any different than a normal man of his age would, maybe a little fatter. I huffed in disbelief.
“Believe what you wish, Zavier, but I only speak the truth,” he murmured thoughtfully, his brown gaze boring into mine. For some reason, the revelation that he was an actual warlock, seemed to ground his rambling and I took a new interest in the situation.
“Go on,” I muttered semi-encouragingly.
“I was a blessed young one,” Ted continued, seemingly quite satisfied with my change in attitude. “I was born and raised on Worzan, the Island of the Warlocks. There I learned of their history and traditions. Most warlocks aren’t born on the island so have to make it through life wondering what they are and hiding their extreme power-”
“Why doesn’t anyone from this island, from Worzan, come and find them?” I blurted, realizing how horrible it would be to struggle through life with untamed magic plaguing you, a magic that witches and wizards at the schools wouldn’t be able to explain to you. It would be terrifying.
Ted sighed sadly. “Some were recovered and brought to Worzan but it was too risky, they had to lie low. If people who had unexplainable abilities started disappearing suspicion would rise and the warlocks needed to be forgotten, to become legend and myth lost in the folds of history,” Ted explained.
“Why?” I didn’t understand how they could just abandon their own people and the humans. “Why did they need to go in hiding?”
“Ah…” Ted thought carefully for a moment. “They were hiding from a certain being… an enemy of sorts, one who threatened to destroy the Diamond Rhombus and endanger the entire galaxy. By retreating into history they bought this world more time, precious time they hoped to be able to form a plan with.”
“Gazenlag?” I asked disgustedly.
“Not quite,” Ted murmured thoughtfully, “though the two beings are interlinked somehow.”
At last we were getting somewhere! “So why did you leave Worzan then?” I was confused, hadn’t he said it was a privilege to live there?
“I left fifty years ago to this day,” he offered quietly, sadness penetrating his expression. “I loved someone back then…Courtney. She was the kindest most beautiful Warlock to ever live. We were to be wed in two weeks time but something dreadful happened that changed everything.” Horror filled his voice but I remained silent, intrigued by his twisted past.
“The King’s wife passed away and he stepped down from the throne and passed it on to his son.
“I had known Prince Harold ever since childhood and I wasn’t surprised when he visited my humble home on the island looking for Courtney, he had every intention of taking her for himself. We got in a fight and he told me that if I didn’t leave the island that night he would slay Courtney.” I gasped as Ted clenched his eyelids shut, his voice trembling.
“That’s horrible, Ted… but you left her, didn’t you?” I offered my pity but somehow I felt ashamed of the old man. If he had really loved her he would have tried harder.
“Don’t judge me, boy,” he muttered sternly, as if reading my thoughts. “It’s more complicated than you can understand. In fear for her life, I took some of the islands sand and left forever.”
“Sand?” I questioned in disbelief. “Did you even say goodbye? Explain to her why you left?” I demanded.
Ted’s eyes shown with such pain I hardly needed an answer. “I thought it would be easier for her to be happy with Harold if she had the option of hating me,” he explained weakly. “All I wanted was her happiness. Each year at this day I smoke a small amount of the sand. It enables me to travel in my mind back to the Island. There I can see Courtney for a few precious hours, even though she does not know of my presence.”
“The sand can do that?” I questioned, quite intrigued. A deep expression of bitter sadness lingered on his face a moment longer before he nodded.
“Yes. It has allowed me to see that she is their Queen now... such a beautiful queen," he murmured dazedly. Ted sighed as he leaned back into his chair, a soft smile playing on his lips.
I coughed in order to get his attention. “And what does this have to do with me? I mean why was I summoned here?”
Ted sat upright and opened his eyes. “I believe that you are somehow connected to the Warlocks. How I do not know. You are not a Warlock yourself though, that I can tell-”
“Thank goodness,” I interrupted, “that would be the last thing I need right now.”
Ted rolled his eyes in a shockingly boyish manner. “Anyhow, I believe the essence of Worzan haunted you, calling you to come. Who knows, maybe this information will prove useful to you one day.” The old man looked tired as he slouched down into his old wooden chair.
“It would be best if you leave now.”
I nodded and rose to my feet eagerly. “Thank you for your hospitality, Ted. I’m sorry about Courtney,” I said quietly.
He motioned me away with a wave of his chubby hand and I turned to leave. Closing the heavy wooden door behind me I jumped down the stairs, my mind abuzz as I set off toward the sun which was now high in the sky.
I walked slowly, ever onward towards the road to Wayd and to Victor.
At last! I have made contact with Him and is it only coincident that She rescued him? He will live, I am sure of this. I feel stronger than I have in a long time now that She remembers and We are reunited once again. Together we follow in His wake. For the first time since the Beginning I at last dare to have Hope.
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