The Rose War [UNFINISHED]

Chapter Six - Origin of the Magic

It can't be, I thought to myself. How could I have dreamed about this boy who I'd never met? It didn't make sense, but as I glanced back at him I was sure I couldn't be mistaken. Those blue eyes were unforgettable. We walked for what seemed like hours until at last we came to a sheer cliff. Oh great, I thought. Now we have to climb up this? But instead of climbing up the cliff the boy walked up to it, produced a small key from his pocket and stuck it into a tiny crevice in the rock. Suddenly a door appeared in the cliff and slid open. “Come this way,” the boy said, gesturing for me to follow him into the darkness. I obeyed and when we had entered, the door slid shut with a loud grating that sent shivers down my spine. The boy grabbed a torch from a holder on the wall and began walking. We went down the long, dark corridor then turned down another one. We continued walking down passage after passage and I wondered how anyone could find their way down here with so many dark openings in the walls all around. How would you ever remember which opening led to which room? The only light came from the torches which were placed in holders spaced evenly on the walls. I shuddered at the thought of living in these dark passages forever. 

“Where are you taking me?” I asked.

The boy answered without turning around, “To Az Jabe,”

“Who exactly is Az Jabe?”

“He's a very wise, old man. That's all you need to know for now.”

I sighed, wondering what would happen to me. 

We finally stopped at the end of one of the dark corridors. Before us there was a large wooden door that the boy knocked on. There was the sound of muffled footsteps from within and then a small window in the door opened. A man peeked through the window and exchanged a few words that I couldn't make out with the boy and then the door opened. I guessed they had been talking in the strange tongue of the mountain people. As I was ushered through the doorway, I blinked in the bright light that filled the room. My eyes had adjusted to the dim hallways but this room was filled a warm, bright glow. I found myself facing an ancient-looking, wrinkled man who sat on a large, stone chair. He spoke a few strange words to the boy who turned and left us. The old man's eyes were a strange gold color and seemed to almost glow with a light of their own. 

“Please sit down,” he spoke to me, motioning with his thin arm towards a wooden stool. I sat obediently, still staring at his odd, glowing eyes. “I take it from your clothes that you are a woodland dweller,” he spoke in a thin, hoarse voice.

“Yes,” I replied simply.

“Then why have you come to the mountains? You're lucky the warriors didn't kill you instantly. Fortunately for you, Trinviad was with them. So why are you here?”

I didn't know whether he would believe my strange story or not but I decided to tell him anyways, “One day,” I began my story, “I met the wizard Morzail in a strange part of the woods. He gave me this magic that he called the magic of life and told me that I was the lost princess of the good king and queen who had ruled over the Marnifay woods. He told me that the mountain warriors and their winged-wolves would teach me how to use it. So that's why I've come here,”

“You're a brave girl to come here alone,”

“So you believe me?” I asked. 

“Yes, I do,” he replied, “I knew your parents and you're the living image of your mother. And also, when Morzail gave them the magic, their skin had a white glow to it. I can see that you do not lie. It is obvious that you posses the magic of life,”

“So will you teach me how to use it?” I asked hopefully, for I felt the same as when Morzail had given me the magic, as if I needed to give some of it away.

“I am not the one to teach you. There is a great warrior here, Trinan. He has lived since before the queen of the east came down but is still as young as when he found it,”

“Found what?” I asked.

“He found the magic of life when he was around 20 years of age. It was contained in a stone in the heart of a mountain thousands of miles away. Morzail, the wizard, was also young then. In fact, he was Trinan's best friend. When Trinan found the stone he didn't know what it was so he took it to Morzail. Morzail was born with special powers. Powers that only wizards possess. Morzail figured out what the magic could do and he wanted it for himself. He showed Trinan what it could do and gave a small part of it to him. The part that he gave him made Trinan immortal. Morzail then took the rest of the magic for himself but combined with his other powers he wasn't able to use it. When Trinan found out what Morzail had done he was furious and the two became enemies. That is why, when the queen of the east came down, Morzail gave the magic to the woodland people instead of his own, the mountain people. That's why my people and yours became enemies. They raid your people because your forest has been given life again and our mountains have not. It's very hard to get food here in the barren cliffs, you know,”

“I've always wondered why we're enemies with your people. I don't think most of the forest people even know why we fight each other,”

“Sad isn't it, that they continue to fight even though they don't know what for?”

“Yes,” I agreed with him, “So will you take me to this Trinan?” 

“I'm much to old to wander around these gloomy passage ways. Why I can barely lift myself from this chair!” he chuckled, “I'll send a servant to ask Trinan when he will be available for a conference with you. But for now, you're probably tired. I'll have Ashzdawn escort you to a room,” Az Jabe motioned for a servant standing in the corner to come over and then said something I didn't understand. “I've asked him to fetch Ashzdawn,” he explained to me.  I expected Ashdawn to be another servant but when the door opened the blue-eyed boy from my dream walked into the room and bowed cordially. “This is Ashzdawn,” Az Jabe spoke to me, indicating the boy, “He'll escort you to a room. 

“Come this way,” Ashzdawn turned and left the room. I quickly followed after him. 

Again, we walked down the corridors in silence. As I studied his strange clothing, which was a heavy, gray cloth, sewn so that it covered his legs and came up diagonally across his chest to cover one arm, I couldn't help but notice the muscles of his exposed arm. Crisscrossed over his tan chest were several leather belts with small gold studs that served to hold his quiver in place. He wore a heavy belt around his waist with more golden studs. A large sword hung from this belt. When I glanced down at his boots I saw they were covered in a coarse, brown fur and I wondered what sort of animal had died to make them. The passage ways were so still and quiet that Ashzdawn must have felt my eyes on his back for he turned and asked bluntly, “Why are you here?”

I wasn't expecting him to talk to me but I answered, “I've come to learn how to use the magic of life,” I decided not to hide anything from him.

“The magic of life?” he laughed and I could tell he didn't believe me. 

I sighed, “Yes, the wizard Morzail gave it to me and some great warrior, Trinan, is going to teach me how to use it. And,” I added defiantly, “I don't care if you don't believe me!”

He laughed again, shaking his head and turning back around. He obviously didn't believe a word I said. Oh well, who cares anyways? I thought. But for some reason I wanted him to believe me. 

That night I sat on the thin, leather mat that had been tossed into the corner of my room. The room was cold and the only light came from a single torch on the wall. I lay back on my mat, thinking. I couldn't get the picture of Ashzdawn's deep, blue eyes out of my mind. His gentle, mocking laugh, too, stuck in my mind with clarity. I drifted off to sleep that night thinking of when Ashzdawn had turned around to face me and asked, “Why are you here?” so bluntly. It made me laugh inside to think of his bluntness.