Date: 14/11/29

Entry: 9

I remember when Roc told me that I was going to see the one who made the Prophecy I was far beyond surprise. I had no clue that this journey, my adventure, had already been devised and placed into an orderly sequence. After leaving the Tower we at last were able to get off this dreadful continent and for a moment I thought that I was going home. But I knew I wouldn’t be. I knew too much of what was to come to go back just yet.

The trip back to the continent was much easier and less nerving than the first. Roc had developed excessively in the trip, and could fly longer and faster, showing little exhaustion. Every once in awhile I would turn around to check on Azrael and Xavier, flying right behind us the whole time. They seemed emotionless, not saying as much as a word the entire time. I, on the other hand, asked my dragon many questions.

My questions led to answers, and I now understood much of what I was about to endure. I was on my way to a diminutive rural village to confront someone called the Seer. That was all I was to hear. Sooner than I could comprehend it, the familiar fog diminished before us and it turned out that we had already been flying over land for some time now. To avoid being seen by nomads or hunters that may have been working beneath us, Roc glided even higher. A mighty gust burst to my face, I looked around to make sure that Xavier was still following us.

I squinted hard to make out what would lie on the horizon before us, my golden hair flowing wildly as I tried to perceive what was going on on the surface. Sheets of green began to roll towards us. The trees became very thick, and then I saw a signal of a possible civilization. A spire of grey in a small, tree-heavy canyon caught my attention. The smoke grew more visible, and Roc swooped down towards the village below like an eagle going for the kill.

The intensity and shock of this unanticipated move made me jump. Xavier and Azrael still lagging behind us, the mouth of the canyon swallowed us, and Roc landed on a jagged rock that was a perfect perch. Sore from the ride, I slowly got off Roc’s back, stretching for a moment to relax my legs. The villagers near me did not look frightened, or even surprised. Perhaps they had been expecting us? They were an odd-looking sort of people, not exactly what I would call “primitive”, but most certainly not as sophisticated in appearance as the Imperial. They wore exotic robes of wool, either tan or wool, and decorated in patterns of tribal art. Necklaces and armbands of pearls and bones gave their figure an even more alien sense. Not many wore anything on their feet other than sandals, and the ones that didn’t wore hefty leather boots (mostly the young men that looked around my age).

The village itself was modest, concealed within the cage of trees and other vegetation. The huts were made out of some kind of white clay or stone, and were dome-shaped, also ornate with extensive artwork. A narrow dirt road ran throughout the whole village, and in the middle of the village a grand oak tree rest. An old woman tended to a garden surrounding the oak, orchids of red and white creating a joyous feel to the scene.

Two very young children, one boy the other a girl, stumbled into Azrael, laughing and playing, and running in a circle around us.

“You can’t catch me!” the boy kept shouting while the girl repeated, “Yes I can!” multiple times.

A Cycle Of Vigorous Glee.

Azrael smiled then, and I will never forget the look on his face at that very moment. A twisted look between joy and excitement. Azrael, a tool, could experience happiness. To see him in such a mood, my fatigue was alleviated. A woman carrying a basket of fruit walked over to us, her wary eyes looked into my own.

“Welcome Outsiders. The door is open. It is you who must decide which path. Let me guide you,” she said. As usual, I was the only member of our group who seemed to not have a clue what was going on. I could only stammer and mumble, “E-excuse me?”

She turned and stared at me, dumbly. Sensing my oblivious behavior, Azrael stepped forward, and replied, “Greetings. We have come to visit the Seer. We have brought the Chosen One.”

The woman’s eyes were filled with surprise. Almost disbelief. After a moment of still silence, she nodded. “Please,” she uttered.

“Follow me.”

The woman, who told us as we walked the dusty path that her name was Eral, was becoming more friendly and talkative that I first believed her to be. She was very attractive, her dark hair pulled back and hidden under a turban, a smile upon her face. She told us that she was taking us to see the Elder and Chief of the village.