The Curse Of Fate CH. 1.

This is the first chapter of my story The Curse Of Fate. It's about a warlock fighting fate to save the one boy who will be able to save the kingdom.

Chapter One:

I first met the boy eight years ago. The king had summoned me to his castle, requesting my services, and I, obligated by the oath I’d sworn, heeded his call.

The king was fairly tall and looked down upon most men. He bore no hair, and hid it obsessively with his jewel adorned crown. He was sickly thin and was just barely thicker than than the golden scepter he held. To keep a kingly appearance he would always wear a large, red cloak to hide his fragility.

I clearly remembered his words. “Warlock Farlow!” he spoke. “Let me tell you my dream, so that you may interpret its meaning.”

I bowed reluctantly and said, “Do as you will, my king.”

He sat up tall in his throne and spoke with misty eyes. “I’m standing on top of the tallest tower of my castle. Darkness closes in from every direction, killing everyone and everything it touches. I see a man in his prime, robed in silver cloth. He has no build whatsoever, but the power I see emanating from him is unfathomable.” The king was speaking with such enthusiasm, but then his tone suddenly changed to sadness and eventual anger. “The man saw the darkness coming and yet he turned around and did nothing. He stood there as the darkness crept up behind him. With a victorious howl it lunged at and engulfed him. With his death everything was taken over by the darkness, and then… and then… I can’t remember the rest.”

I stood there and pondered his dream for but a few moments. My heart sank like a rock in a pond once I’d ascertained its meaning. My mouth went dry and I had trouble speaking.

“My king,” I said, my voice cracking. “The darkness represents a mysterious enemy you'll be defeated by. You will watch and be unable to do a thing as your kingdom is destroyed by their hand.”

By the king’s expression I would have thought he was to die right then and there, but his dream spoke of a different fate.

“That is not all, my lord. The man in your dream, the one dressed in silver robes, represents that there will be one person who can save you and your kingdom from oblivion. By your description I assume he’ll be a warlock, such as...”

The king, desperate for hope, cut in, “So you’ll save my kingdom?”

I sighed, and rubbed my eyes, my patience thinning. “My lord, you do describe the man as being in his prime. Do I look so?” I was already an old man, and the king finally took notice of my wrinkled skin and long white beard.

“Then who will be our savior?”

“I don’t know, but once again, there is more.”

The king shut his mouth and waved for me to continue.

“The way the man reacts to the darkness in your dream, with him turning around and ignoring his enemy, represents ignorance. When the darkness overtakes him… his death is symbolized.”

The king’s eyes lost any sign of life as he took the horrible news.

“Through his own ignorance,” I said, “our savior shall die, leaving us to follow.”

The king fainted. His guards and servants rushed to his aid and tried to wake him up.

I turned from it and clenched my fists. “He’ll be fine,” I said. “His time has yet to come.”

With those words I left the castle and wandered into town. My mind, which from the beginning of my apprenticeship had remained controlled, was loosing its ability to maintain stability. That’s how troubled I was at the king’s dream, which I now considered no less than a prophecy. Being in the service of the kingdom, It was my job to ensure its existence remain intact, but how I would do so?

I heard shouting from behind, but my mind was too worried to notice. I heard footsteps closing in, but my thoughts were too clouded to let them register. It wasn’t until the young boy ran into me that I snapped back to my senses. I grabbed him and was going to give him a lecture, but the moment my hand touched his bare arm, I felt it. It was a strong, reverberating pulse that shot out from the boy and into me. Each reverberation left me feeling more rejuvenated and empowered than I’d felt in years.

I looked down at the boy curiously. His ribs and bones showed from starvation. His messy, blonde hair hung just above his icy blue eyes and it looked as if he’d cut it himself with a blunt knife. His clothing was nothing more than a single rag wrapped around his most private of areas and in his hand he held half a loaf of bread.

“Good, ya got ‘em,” I heard a gruff voice from behind me say. I turned towards the speaker and saw a large man who wore a stained apron and held a bread knife in his hand. “The damn boy stole that bread from my stall.”

“Sir, I swear I didn’t,” the boy pleaded to me. He was struggling to hold back tears. Not sure what to believe, I crept slowly into his mind and prodded his thoughts for the truth. His face contorted and my mind was thrown away from his. I have to say that I was startled at the ferocity of his raw power, but my concentration showed me what I’d wanted to know and more. His name was revealed to me, I saw a flash of his lonesome past without parents, the cold winters in the orphanage, and then I came to the situation at hand. I smirked at the boy. He was lying. I would usually be angry, but instead I was happy, overjoyed in fact. The boys power was proof enough. He was the kingdom’s savior.

“You lying thief!” the man exclaimed. He made a reach for the boy, but I stood between them.

“How much is the bread?” I asked, pulling out my money purse.

“A sheckle, but what does that matter? I’ll cut off his hand before I…”

I pulled out five sheckles and threw them into the air. I guided them down slowly into the man’s hands with a flick of my wrist. “There. I added interest for your inconvenience. Now that the boy's debt is payed we’ll take our leave.” The man looked like he’d object, but the silver in his hand kept him from doing so.

“W-we?” the boy asked nervously.

“Yes we, young William.” I took the William's hand and walked away with him. The boy tried to pull away, but I had a firm grip. I grinned now and again when he instinctively used his power against me. The pulses I’d felt from the boy earlier was his power leaking out, and for him to have enough left to resist me is unfathomable. I grinned. Just like the king's dream.

After a while of his struggling, though, I grew impatient. Then I realized how frightening it must be for him to have someone such as myself dragging him along. I decided to explain, or at least a little bit.

I dragged him over to a corner and then bent down on one knee so we were eye level. “I assume you’re wondering where I’m taking you. Is that correct?” He nodded sheepishly. I smiled at him. “Well I would prefer not to explain it here, but I can promise you, that if you come with me you won’t go hungry.” I prodded his thin stomach friendly. “We’ll also see about getting you some real clothes.”

The boy’s eyes lit up like the fireworks of Hamalay. “Well I have no better place to go.”

“That’s good,” I said, holding out my hand. The boy took it gingerly. “Then we shall take our leave.” We left the town together, hand in hand.

I looked down upon him with the highest expectations. I made a silent promise that no matter what, I would ensure that this child survived his ignorance; no matter what the costs were.