The Battle: Chapter Four

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Sunrises in the Blue Mountains were a sight to behold. The reflection of light over the green trees and cerulean peak, a reverberation of colour through the morning mist, filled the world with splendour. Pabbie spent most mornings in a crouched position on a treacherous peak in the Blue Mountains watching the sunrise with great anticipation. The cliff edges stretched fifty feet above the trees below, the perfect stage for the morning show.

He rose suddenly. Wind rustled the hair out of his face and fluttered his sparkling green robe. His strong, solid face masked the emotions running through his mind.

Without hesitation, Pabbie shot his arms up into the air and spun around in a circle faster and faster, until he was a blur of green. He listened to the faint words floating through the air, quieter than whispers. His arms dropped to his side and his legs slowed, trance-like. His lips parted and words started to flow as he conversed with the wind.

The wind slowed and his robe stilled at his side. He bent down to retrieve his walking stick and bundle of goods and began the walk back to their cave, shaking his head. The troll's apprentices were running their daily errands as he came into view. With one look at their leader, they stopped still.

Pabbie felt the blood drain from his face, and the deep lines in his forehead loosen. His staff through his clammy hands and he clutched harder to hold onto his bundle. Without warning, his eyes closed and his knees gave way. 

He vaguely felt a hand leading him through the village and into his home. His aide propped his body at his desk, placing a quill and parchment in front of him, ready to record the message from the wind. His hands ferociously scribbled on the parchment the moment the door closed. 

Opening his eyes, Pabbie adjusted to the dim light in the room. The candles had burned down to stubs, and small wax puddles spilt out along the table. His fingers tingled as he opened the closed his hands, wakening his body. He closed his eyes tightly and reopened them, anxious to see the papers in front of him. He whistled as he shuffled through them.

Rolling up his moss green sleeves, he hunched over and got to work. hours passed. Sweat rolled down his forehead and new wrinkled etched into his brow. Time stood still as his mind continued to absorb the written words.

The cave remained eerily silent. The Exiled all seemed to hold their breath, waiting, knowing that something big was happening. The sunset on another day and Pabbie had not moved from his home.

The early morning sun sparkled off quartz as Kristoff transferred water from the wells to the fountain. As a young man, Kristoff maintained the wells and cleared the paths: the mundane tasks required to keep their village functioning. Today was no different. Walking between the fountains and well, Kristoff multi-tasked, practising his charms with on hands and carrying the water with the other. His left arm traced and intricate design in the air. Light sparkled from the tips of his fingers as he muttered the incantation to himself. Blowing light blonde hair out of his light brown eyes, he stopped. Pabbie stood in his doorway, parchments in his hands, his face a mask.

By the time Pabbie reached the fountain in the middle of the cave, news had spread and half the villagers had already arrived. Averting his eyes, Pabbie shifted the parchments in one hand and touched the cool water with his other, watching as the ripples expanded. The circle in the fountain collided.

"Fellow wanderers," Pabbie said, pushing the hood of his moss robe back to expose blazing eyes. "By now, some of you know that I have been in contact with the other side." A series of gasps ran through the crowd, and a few women knelt.

Undaunted, he continued, passion resonating in his voice. "It has been almost seventeen years since our exile. According to the news I just received, it seems the time has come full circle. We have waited, watched, and wished. I have seen what is coming, and we are needed. It will take our vision, courage, and strength. We will be tried, pushed to the edge of our endurance, but it must be so. Like rippled in the water we will return to the centre, back to the beginning. We will b in exile no more!" Pabbie smiled as the people roared in excitement.

Pabbie didn't wait for the crowd to settle. Raising his right arm and his voice, he looked into their faces. "There is not much time. I will be leaving now with a small group, and the rest of you must be patient. We will all be together soon, but we must follow the signs. as it has been foretold, the time of the dragon is near," he said, shaking the parchments in his other hand. 

His eyes surveyed the crowd, sifting through his choices and weighing each carefully. "You five," he said, his eyes fixating on the back corner Where Kristoff stood with his older sister, younger brother, and parents. "Come with me."

With a quick nod, they jumped into lined and followed Pabbie. A rush of whispers ran through the crowd. The group walked to the opening, the voiced of the people rising behind them. Greenlight erupted through the mouth of the cave.

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