Prophesy

“Claire, walk with me,” Keith said the next day during training. He took her hand and pulled her from the man she had been sparring with. At first she wondered if her footing was off or if the hold on her blade had faltered. In truth she’d been more focused than she ever before and disarmed three men before Keith intervened. When they reached the tree line he picked a fallen log and sat, guiding her down beside him. “Talk to me, Bear.” She huffed before turning her most innocent smile at him. “About what?” “Don’t play the fool, it doesn’t suit you. Had I not stopped you, I’m afraid you would’ve taken Charp’s head off. Talk to me.” “What do you want me to say? I’m building a cabin for me and the kids. I’ve already collected two stones for it.” She smiled and went to rise, but his restraining hand held her back. “What about Cal? Talk to me about him.” “I’m trying my best to ignore the fact that you, Mark, and Cal made this insane plan that put two people I dearly love at risk without even talking with me about it.” The warning in her tone went unheeded. “Claire can I explain a couple of things- without you tearing my head off?” She remained silent so he considered it permission. “Claire, Cal knew we needed to remove Teisha from this war…” “But why? We have the most powerful witch in Danyon on our side.” “No we don’t!” Those three words stopped the argument Claire had been prepared to deliver. “How can you say that?” She looked at Keith as though he had turned traitor. “Have you thought to look at that book of prophecies?” Claire only blinked in surprise. She hadn’t thought about the book of Spells and Prophecy since Tyrell. It had seemed more important for her to train. “We gave you that book for you to read and study it.” “I haven’t really had the time to do much reading and studying,” she grumbled, suddenly feeling foolish for not considering it. “There’s more in that book than just you.” His harsh words made her flinch. “The prophecy tells that a child of white will save Danyon from an evil trying to destroy it, but it also states that a great power will be released; more powerful than anything this world had ever known. You are the child of White, but we believe that great power may be Teisha. “She’s a witch like none before her. We have to stop her before she becomes too powerful. Can’t you see? Cal is our only hope of getting close to her. Teisha is...has very close connections with Leishmann. Cal can only get close to her if he is at Leishmann’s side. I know you are upset, but if you stop wallowing for five minutes you will understand this all is necessary.” “I’m not wallowing!” Claire erupted to her feet and turned her back on her brother. “I know why, I support it. I just...I just want him here.” Her shoulders slumped at the admission and she remained quiet for some time. Keith could only stare, lost for words. After a few minutes passed he stood and stepped behind her. “I’m going to make an assumption and say it’s not Mark you’re thinking about.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned and threw her arms around his waist. “Why didn’t he come to me? Why didn’t he say good-bye? Why didn’t he promise me everything was going to be okay?” Keith held her close and let her cry for a moment before addressing her questions. “He came to you, but he didn’t wake you because you were upset and you would have wanted him to make promises he may not be able to keep. Cal never wants to lie to you again. What would you think of him if he made that promise and he couldn’t keep it?” She wanted to argue that she would understand and forgive him, but she wasn’t sure what she would feel. It was that moment she understood that Cal had done what he needed to. She also knew what she would need to do in response. She had to prepare to take on not only Leishmann, but also Teisha in case Cal and Mark failed. That night she returned home and began focusing on studying the book of Spells and Prophecy. What she read truly frightened her. For a moment she wondered if Leishmann truly was the evil she would fight, but then thought herself a fool. There was nothing more evil than that man. *** Claire jerked awake. The darkness of her room left her disoriented and panting. Sweat beaded off her brow and disappeared into her hair. She struggled to make sense of her surroundings and reorient herself in the dark night. After several moments the sounds of soft, even breathing floated to her ears and she sighed in relief. She was home. She looked out the small window at the stars gleaming in the sky and pondered on the nightmare that had awakened her. This had been the fourth time in a month she had dreamed it, but as disturbing as it was, the other dreams were much worse. She shivered and pulled the blankets tighter. For a moment she thought of the cold cellar in purgatory and her fear of the darkened walls that kept her isolated and feeling hopelessly alone. The bitter pain enveloping her had felt so real to her that she still sensed the relief that had spread through her body at the loud creak of the opening door. The man standing before the flames had a familiarity to him, though she did not see his face. When he spoke and twisted his hand she was swept up in a tornado. She glimpsed a gleam of his angry eyes, but his full face never took form. She was tumbled about in a whirlwind of memories she was certain did not belong to her, but at the same time were too familiar to disregard. Several flashes of a dark haired woman danced in the wind. Rectangles of light formed in the stormy air around her; within them death and destruction were played like sinister clips on a movie screen. A child with white hair, bitten by a poisonous snake and writhing in pain as death made slow order of stealing her last breath. A teenage girl sneaking into a room to bury a dagger in the sleeping toddler’s middle. Many other scenes played in short clips, all of them ended the same; a child with white hair murdered viciously. Only it was not just any child, each of them was Claire. The scenes in this tornado dream had only touched the detail of the horrific deaths, but Claire knew each of them all too well. Each death had played itself in full detail in the nightmares she’d had since her return to Danyon. Cal had known of them, but not their contents. He had chased the dreams away with his presence and now that he was gone they had returned with renewed vigor. She flipped the blankets to the side knowing she would not be able to sleep now that she had allowed her thoughts to focus on Cal. The cold air hit her skin like a bucket of ice water and she welcomed the shock. It cleared her senses and helped shed her lingering sleepiness. She reached for her fur blanket and wrapped it around her like a cloak. Silently she made her way through the cabin, stepping into the cool night. She wrapped her blanket tightly around her and frowned. How was she ever to rid herself of the hellish nightmares without Cal? She climbed the hill and found herself standing before the small pile of rocks she had collected and allowed her mind to focus on a deeper pain. It had been six months since she began collecting the flat stones needed for her cabin. Claire lifted a small stone from the pile and tested its weight. Mark and Cal had been gone so long that Keith and Jamerico were almost finished with a solid foundation. Most of the rocks she had found already rested in their permanent home on the sturdy base. Taking her rock, she attempted to locate a perfect fit in the structure. After several attempts she gave up and with a frustrated grunt sent it back to the diminishing pile of stones. Tears glistened in her eyes and she felt a deep sadness fill her. Where were they? After studying the book of prophecies she could no longer deny that Cal and her brother needed to leave. If Cal could not take care of Teisha, no one could. Unwillingly she thought of a set of grey eyes sparkling with merriment and looking down on her. The smile lines softened the rugged features and made one forget the two day growth of whiskers shading high cheekbones and a firm jaw. The larger than life grin glistened in the moonlight. Strong arms wrapped around her and brought her into his firm embrace. Her heart raced with joy as he bent towards her. Her eyes fluttered closed. A soft breeze caressed her lips where the kiss should have been. Claire opened her eyes to the dark sky. Cal no longer stood before her and she searched the endless sea of stars wondering if he was looking at them too. She sighed and allowed herself to admit how much she missed him. Claire rose and moved to the crest of the small hill to look out over the sleeping valley. A chill washed over her as her body trembled with the memory of Cal’s embrace. This is where he had kissed her. Her first kiss. She touched her lips recalling the sensations and emotions. “Claire?” She jumped. The thoughts of him had been so tangible that her first assumption was that it was Cal who spoke. She whipped around only to have her smile falter and heart drop once more. It was not Cal. “Hello Marcel. What brings you outside at this hour of the night?” How had she mistaken Marcel’s feminine drawl for Cal’s low tremble? “It’s the best time to gather prairie stems. Walk with me.” The old woman hooked her arm through Claire’s and led her into the forest. “Tell me, Child, what brings you out in such early hours?” “A dream,” she lied. Only it wasn’t a lie, the dream had waken her, but it was thoughts of Cal that ate at her insides and drew her from the cabin and seek refuge on the hill. She looked at Marcel and even though the darkness masked the questions in her eyes, she still knew they were there. “I’ve been having some confusing dreams lately. Well, nightmares to be exact. They all seem connected to one another, but they are all so different. In each one I am in different stages of life...mostly young. I am always murdered by a woman with hair as black as night. The nightmares are very detailed and seem so real.” Marcel made an unintelligible noise that made Claire pause to assure the old witch was okay. “I pray you continue,” Marcel said in a pained voice. Claire stood for several minutes staring at the darkened forest before her and summoning the details she had been anxiously trying to forget. Finally, she told Marcel of the dream that had woken her- her prison in purgatory, the whirlwind that rescued her from hell and brought her to Danyon for a short reprieve, and the detail of every clip within her whirlwind of despair. When she finished she waited for Marcel to explain the meaning, but she remained quiet for too long. “Marcel?” The old woman gently cupped Claire’s face and softly ran her fingers over the curve of her cheeks. The breeze shifted and the trees swayed just enough to allow the moon light to touch the earth. In those few seconds Claire saw a glistening of tears in Marcel’s eyes. “My Darling Child, I knew you were the prophesied child of white, but I never dreamed…” She choked back a sob. “Marcel, are you alright?” Concern laced her words. She had never seen Marcel cry. “You and I need to have a serious talk about those dreams, but not now. I have to think first.” She gave Claire’s cheek a small squeeze and pulled her head forward to plant a gentle, almost reverent, kiss on her forehead. “Go back to the cabin now and let me alone with my thoughts. I need to have me a talk with Sorchanna.” She turned Claire toward the meadow and gave her a little paddle to send her one her way.