Read The Final Prophecy Page 27

CHAPTER 20

  THE WISEST ONE

  Something exploded out of the tunnel with astonishing speed; a dark blur that tumbled over the edge of the birthing stone and rolled across the ground to collapse in a heap in the center of the Cradle. Hob pulled his axe and Gabriel drew his knife.

  “Keep the pathway open,” Gabriel whispered.

  “What are you going to do?” asked Hob. Gabriel winced. It was no use whispering with a dwarf.

  “I’m going down to have a closer look. We need to find out what just came out of that black hole.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No, you two wait here. I can get back up onto this rock much faster than either of you and we may need to flee this place in a hurry.”

  “Do you think it’s the wisest one?” asked Ben. His heart was pounding in his chest. Whatever came out of the pathway had really given him a scare.

  “I don’t know,” Gabriel answered, “but we shall soon find out.”

  The elf dropped to the ground and cautiously made his way over to the figure that was lying in a crumpled heap. It appeared to be a man, small in stature. He was wearing a dark blue hooded robe and the hood was covering his head. Gabriel paused. Something about the little man looked strangely familiar. Suddenly, the blue robed figure rolled over and sat up, with his back to the elf. He looked around frantically, as if he’d lost something, and began crawling around on the ground and crying with a loud voice, “Where is it? Where is it? Keep the pathway open, we must find it!”

  That voice! Gabriel had heard that voice before. He knew that voice, but how could it be?

  “Is this what he’s looking for?” asked Ben from atop the birthing stone.

  Gabriel turned around. Ben was holding up a sword. An elfin sword! The moonsilver flashed brilliantly as Ben waved it over his head. That wasn’t just any elfin sword. Gabriel had seen that sword many times; there was no mistaking it. It had returned from the past, just as the prophecy had foretold. Excalibur was back. But if that was Excalibur, then who had brought it back? Gabriel turned back to the blue robed figure that came from the pathway. The man was standing now, looking at them from beneath the dark shadows of the hood that hid his face. Slowly, he reached up and pulled the hood from off his head. Gabriel looked upon the gray whiskers and wizened face, and then fell to his knees in shock. It WAS him!

  The old man hurried over to steady the elf and helped him to his feet.

  “Merlin?” Gabriel whispered. “How is this possible?”

  “Yes, it is I,” the wizard answered with a mischievous grin, “and there will be time for answers later.” The wizard walked past the astonished elf to glare up at Ben, who was still standing atop the birthing stone. He was holding Excalibur in one hand and the staff in the other hand.

  “Here,” said Ben, handing the sword down to the wizard.

  “No, the sword is no longer mine to keep. It seems that Excalibur has chosen a new master, but I was expecting that to happen. That staff, however, is mine and I WILL be taking it back.” Merlin stretched out his hand. The staff flew from Ben’s grasp and smacked into the wizard’s palm with a loud thump. Merlin banged the ground with the end of the staff and the black hole snapped shut. “Ah, there is much magic here! I have not felt such magic in many long years, how I have missed it!”

  “Merlin,” said Gabriel, regaining his composure, “how is it you are here? You should be dead!”

  The wizard cradled the staff in the crook of his arm as he pulled a floppy blue hat from his robe and pulled it down over his head. “How are you, Merlin?” he replied in a mocking tone. “How have you been doing? It’s so good to see you! Those are things I would have expected to hear from a close friend, but nooooooo… instead of a warm welcome I hear, you should be dead!”

  “Forgive me, please,” Gabriel pleaded. “I’m delighted to see you, just shocked, that is all. Please, tell us how it is you are here.”

  “Have you been spending too much time with dwarves or have all elves become rude since I left Camelot?”

  Gabriel stared at Merlin with a puzzled expression.

  “Introductions!” the wizard cried. “Introductions first! Then food. Then answers.”

  “Ah yes, please for…”

  “You’re forgiven! You’re forgiven! Now, tell me. Who is this young man that was in possession of my staff and who is now in possession of the sword? Is this the chosen one?”

  Ben hopped down from the birthing stone and Gabriel helped Hob to the ground.

  “We’ll start with Hob,” said Gabriel. “This is Hob, of Long Lake. He is a friend to elves and a dear friend of mine. We have adventured much together.”

  Hob bowed low, but unsure of the proper greeting to a wizard, remained quiet and tried to appear respectful.

  “What’s wrong with him?” asked Merlin. “Is he addled? Can he speak?”

  “I’m sure he is just overwhelmed being in the presence of one so great and famous,” Gabriel answered, with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Hmph,” Merlin replied, blowing the gray whiskers hanging over his lips in all directions.

  “But be warned though, once he starts talking, you may never shut him up.”

  Hob yanked on his beard while Gabriel and Ben smirked at his discomfort. It was good natured fun and Hob knew it, but he wished that Gabriel would move on and introduce Ben. He WAS a bit overwhelmed. This was Merlin standing here before him!

  Gabriel sensed his friend’s unease and directed Merlin’s attention to Ben. “This is Ben Alderman, from Atlanta, Georgia. He is the chosen one.”

  “Atlanta Georgia?” I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that place. Is it new? Where is it located?”

  “It’s a place on earth,” Ben answered. “A great city, not too far from the Merlin tree.”

  “The trees still exist?”

  “Oh yes. There is one on earth, one on Faerie, and two on Camelot.”

  “And the Twilight?”

  “Still there,” said Gabriel, “but there is a castle in the forest now.”

  Merlin raised his bushy eyebrows.

  “It’s a long story,” Gabriel laughed.

  “And one I should like to hear. How is Marcus?”

  Gabriel paled. “He is well, but is being held for ransom in the city of Jupiter.”

  “And Jupiter, the immortal, is sitting on the throne?”

  “Yes, but he goes by Bellator now.”

  “I wish it were someone else, but I knew it would be him the prophecy spoke of. Well, there’s nothing for it now, but to let the events play out. Tell me one thing more. How long have I been gone from Camelot?”

  “It’s been over six hundred years, my friend.”

  This time, Merlin paled. He was hoping to see his old friend Galegina, of the Aniyun-wiya, but they would all be dead, their bodies long ago turned to dust.

  “So, you see now why I was so shocked to see you,” Gabriel continued. “I can still hardly believe that you are here. How did you do it?”

  “It is a long story,” Merlin replied, “so I will give you the short version for now. When I left Camelot I found a race of people on earth who called themselves the Aniyun-wiya.”

  “Those are Indians!” Ben cried. “You got to live with the Cherokee Indians?”

  “You know of the Aniyun-wiya?”

  “Yes, we’re learning about them in our history class at school.”

  “So, they are all gone from the Earth?”

  “No, they’re still around.” Ben had once read a book called Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee. In that book he read about The Trail of Tears and about all of the deaths and hardships the Indians had suffered on the long march to their reservations. He suddenly regretted opening his mouth and he hoped that Merlin would not ask him any more questions about the Cherokee. Thankfully, Merlin regarded him for a moment with those deep black eyes and then continued with his story.

  “They
were a kind and generous people and they took me in. I would have lived out my days with them, but something kept calling me to move on. As much as I hated to do so, I finally left them and made my way to a great ocean, where I was found by a group of sea faring men from the frozen north. These people also took me in, more so out of fear and respect than love and kindness. Like the islands they called home, these men of the north were cold and hard. They were always warring with other villages and they always took me along with them on their excursions. They thought I brought them luck. Eventually, during one of their scouting missions to the mainland, I was able to escape from them. I fled to the town that they were planning to attack and warned the townspeople so that they were not caught unawares. We were ready for them when they came and we drove them back to the sea. During the battle, Excalibur chose a new master; a young man named Arthur. With Excalibur in his hands, Arthur was able to rally the townspeople around him. He gave them hope and set their spirits on fire. That night, when the battle was over, a new kingdom was birthed and that kingdom was called Camelot.”

  “Holy cow,” Ben exclaimed, interrupting the wizard once more. “King Arthur and Camelot were real? And you are the wizard Merlin from all of the stories I have read?”

  “You have heard of Arthur and Camelot?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s one of the most famous stories in the world, but no one believes them to be true.”

  “Well, I do not know what stories you have heard, but I should like to hear them myself one day. Arthur was a real person. Camelot was a real place. And I am a real wizard.”

  “So, to get here, you just used magic to go forward in time?”

  “No, heavens no. That is not possible.”

  “Then how did you do it?”

  “There is a Dragon’s Cradle on earth. One that is much older than this one. I suspect at one time Earth was a place much like Camelot; young and full of magic. I also believe there were dragons there too, but that is another story. I finally figured out that I was the wisest one mentioned in the final prophecy and that my task was to bring Excalibur back at the appropriate time. When Excalibur abandoned Arthur and returned to me, I knew that the appointed time was upon me, so I opened a pathway from the Cradle on Earth to the Cradle here on Crag, stepped into the pathway, and let it close.”

  “You stayed inside?” asked Hob, curiosity overcoming his awe.

  “Ah ha!” Merlin cried, with a loud voice that made them all jump.

  “What is it?” said Gabriel, reaching once again for his knife.

  “The dwarf does speak!”

  Gabriel sheathed his blade and winked at Ben, while Hob gave his beard a good sharp tug.

  “Yes,” Merlin answered, “I stayed inside.”

  “For six hundred years?” said Hob, incredulously. “I’d say the sword was a bit premature in its timing!”

  “Six hundred years or six minutes, it matters not inside of a pathway.”

  “There’s no passage of time in a pathway!” said Ben.

  “Give the boy a prize,” said Merlin, “he is exactly right. A pathway is not a place where time is observed; it is an in-between place that links two time frames together.”

  “So, even though you have been in there for six hundred years, it seemed to you that I opened the pathway just as soon as you closed it.”

  “This child really is smart!”

  Ben’s ears began to turn red. He couldn’t tell if Merlin was paying him a compliment or poking fun at him. Just when he was sure his ears were seconds away from bursting into flames, Hob diverted the wizard’s attention away from him.

  “Merlin, sir,” the dwarf stammered. “May I ask a favor of you, before we return to Camelot?”

  “Ask away! I am in a merry spirit today and if it is within my power to do any of you a favor, I will be delighted to do so.”

  “It is the time of The Ashing here on Crag. Dragons are starving and feeding on ash to quell their hunger pains. The ash that they eat will bring on The Slumber; a great sleep that will last for a thousand years. Now that I have seen my home, my ancestral home, I feel a longing to return here. I want to explore this place and learn more about where I came from. I’m sure that my kin would love to see the Haven as well and many of them would probably relocate there. My favor that I ask of you is this; will you create another tree? One located deep inside the Haven where no dragon may ever reach it and place its counterpart in Dwarvenhall?”

  “That’s a great idea, Hob,” said Ben. “And I know just where to put the tree in Dwarvenhall; in the lobby of the Archives! That way, Spud would have lots of visitors coming to the Archives. He could be appointed guardian of the tree, or something like that.”

  “When this is all over,” said Merlin to Hob, “if you can show me a secure place in the Haven, and convince me that no dragon may find it, I will conjure your tree. I understand the longing in one’s heart when away from home for too long.” The wizard smiled at the dwarf. “Fortunately, it is a pain that is easily cured.”

  At that moment, a loud shriek pierced the air, forcing them to cover their ears. A red dragon dove from the skies and crashed into the center of the stone structure. Luckily for everyone the dragon targeted Gabriel first, because the elf was the largest of the four and the dragon was ravenously hungry. The elf’s razor sharp senses, combined with lightning fast reflexes and speed saved his life. He leapt aside as the dragon’s snout snapped shut, barely missing him. The dragon roared and spun around, searching for the elf, and came face to face with Merlin.

  The wizard pointed his staff at the dragon and a brilliant green light burst from the spell catcher on the end of the staff. The dragon’s shiny red scales began to turn gray and the creature collapsed to the ground in a tangled heap of claws and fangs. Merlin walked up to the dragon and rapped the staff upon its head. The dragon had turned to stone.

  “Let me guess,” said Gabriel. “Another sleep spell?”

  “Why not,” Merlin answered. “It worked once before.”

  “Are you leaving your staff here to keep it asleep?”

  “Heavens no, the dragon may wake up when we leave or it may just stay in the slumber for the duration of the cycle. We are finished here. Where to now?”

  “The Gazafar Lodge,” Gabriel answered.

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