The Conjurer's Charm - The Dream Catcher series (BOOK 1)

6.3 || The Conjurer ||

"Our world is dying, and you are the only hope my father's predecessors have. I doubt word should have also been passed that the Dream Catcher has been chosen, but there will be people who will be after you to vanquish you."

"The Dream Catcher? Vanq—I'm not a—why me? No. I'm not what you think. I'm just plain-ordinary, I don't have any knowledge about any of this!" he said indicating the suroundings.

"Calm down boy, I have not yet finished explaining."

Alwold still didn't feel the weight of this burden ease. Awful so far it seemed for him, a prophetic quest and the historical tale. It was a lot to take in and not at all comfortable to hear, especially when he was getting to know he was being made to be a part of a story he imagined to be only in fictional stories and movies.

"I'm not ready to hear the rest!"

"There is no turning back now. When my father predicted this affliction, he sent me away to protect myself with only two things that belonged to my father that I possessed my entire life. His last words and the charm."

"The ... charm?"

"The device that bought you here."

It made sense now. Alwold winced his face, wishing that he had never touched that glowing amulet but escaped from the cave without it.

"I don't see what any of this has to do with me. You're speaking of charms, parallel universes, sorcery—I don't get this."

"You will, because you were chosen."

"STOP SAYING THAT!"

Alwold's temper rose, but retreated his gaze away from Pnevan. He looked taken aback by his hands turning to a translucent orange.

"What's happening to me?"

"The result of your rage. You need to let it go."

"I can't! You're pulling me into something I don't wanna be a part of at all. Let me go away from this place. How do I get back to my world?" Alwold demanded.

"You will, but you will not until I have finished."

Alwold turned away and grunted, shaking his fists.

"There is no point willing to go back ignorantly when the Triverse is being destroyed. You are going to live a bad life either way. Besides, now that the Contrivance has chosen you, should you ever retreat from this mission, the Triverse will persuade you to take this path."

"What'd you mean?" asked Alwold, frowning severely at him.

"Allow me to continue. You were just one of the thousands of people who had lived during these twenty centuries destined to be here, but only one of them could. You, Alwold. The Contrivance chose you."

At this moment, the winged creature swooped down and landed behind Pnevan, standing mightily under the afternoon sun of the Oneirosphere.

"Pepekeko—" (he turned and caressed the wings of the creature) "—was the Supreme Sentry overseeing the Contrivance, a mystic algorithm that would determine the saviour of our worlds."

"Algo—How? How was I chosen?" Alwold looked weary. "I know nothing of this, no skill, no plan, and I barely even talk to people, I'm not a hero!"

"You are not now, but you will be. Because you were chosen."

Alwold flinched at the mention of it again.

"Did you notice any other people seeking the charm while you were on my island?"

"I don't—"

Something struck Alwold. He found the apparent grin of Pnevan eerie.

"Wait, so they would've been chosen too?"