The Second Prophecy (Part 1 of the Dragdani Prophecies) (35 page)

In truth,
Peter had no idea why he was so happy. He thought it had started
shortly after he took his first look around. He was amazed at how
good this new world made him feel. At last he had finally felt as
though a great weight had been lifted off of his chest. He felt
like he had found the place where truly belonged.

“
So do you
have a last name your people usually do?” said the
farmer.

“
My last name
is Stark, and they’re not my people, not any more,” said Peter
coldly.

“
Stark?”
repeated the former Wizard. “You’re not a relation of the
Wizard-Elf King Jastark, his Normal name was -”

“
John Stark,
he was my dad,” said the boy just as he lifted his tankard to take
a swig of the juice the farmer’s wife had just set down for him.
But when he did this, the sleeves of the too-short shirt that Huri
had given him pulled back to reveal Peter’s wrists. The farmer saw
marks on his right arm, marks that Peter did not even know about.
Like his father, one of the marks was a star and the other was of
the moon, though the marks on Peter’s arm were a little different.
The star was not a four-point star, but an eight-point star. The
moon was full instead of half, and Peter had one other mark, which
the Dragdani called the Dragons eye.

“
Drago?” said
the Wizard. “Ohmigods!”

Peter and Huri both observed that the man
suddenly looked as if he had been hit in the face with a
shovel.

“
Is there
something wrong, Jert?” asked his wife anxiously.

The Wizard
got up and grabbed his wife by the arm, which caused her to drop a
couple of roast spuds onto the table. The farmer was a small, very
thin man, and his wife was even smaller than him, though she had a
considerably larger waistline. So he struggled to stop her from
stumbling and hurting herself.

“
What his
gotten into you, Jert?” asked the woman.

“
Huri, I
thought I knew him from somewhere. He’s the Wizard King, and he’s
sitting in our dining room about to eat from our table, and you ask
me if there’s something wrong, my love. No, everything is great.
Things have never been better,” the Wizard laughed. “I think I know
what that light in the sky must have bee. It was him Phazing into
our world. How high was the light?”

“
It was very
high.”

“
Which means
he must have fallen from a great height.”

“
You say he’s
the King of the whole Wiz-Wit world?” asked Huri, thinking that
perhaps she had heard him wrong.

“
Yes.”

“
Omigods!”
said the woman.

“
Yes, I know.
That’s what I said.”

“
No, it’s not
that. I don’t think we have anything that would be fit for a King
to eat. I mean, what do Kings like to eat?”

The farmer
shook his head. “I don’t know. We could always ask,” he
suggested.

“
Don’t worry,
I’m not King yet,” said Peter, who could hear them both clearly
with his new enhanced hearing. “Whatever you have is
fine.”

“
Listen to
the poor dear. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. He must have
struck his head hard when he hit the ground,” said Huri
fretfully.

“
I think he
knows what he’s saying,” said the Wizard rolling his
eyes.

But despite
her husband’s objections, Huri went straight out the door and over
to their neighbors to see if she could borrow a good piece of meat
or at least the best they had. When she returned twenty minutes
later, she wasted no time in cooking the fresh Buthwut, which was a
big hairy beast that smelt like a large lump of dung. Other than
that, Peter was sure that the thing would be all right.

It was not
long before they were ready to eat. The farmer’s wife had cooked
the creature nicely, and it smelt fantastic. Huri also put out some
other dishes and, like the meat, Peter had never seen nor tasted
them, though was more than willing to try them. Except for the
pudding that unfortunately smelt of smelly, cheesy feet. When he
was offered a piece of the offending dessert, he respectfully
declined. He claimed that he was full after the dinner.

“
Are you
sure? Trust me when I say that you don’t know what you’re missing,”
said Huri.

“
Yeah, I
know, but I can’t take any more. If I do, I think I’m going to
burst.”

“
Well,
at least you’ve had your
fill, my lord,” said Jert.

“
You don’t
have to call me that,” said Peter. “I’m not the King just
yet.”

“
Oh, but you
became my lord as soon as those marks showed up on your arm. You
became the King of the Wiz-Wit world.”

“
What marks?”
Peter looked to see what the man was on about, for as far as he
knew, he had no marks of any kind.

“
You have had
those all your life, but the marks of a Wizard-Elf only show when
their powers are released.”

“
So what
now?” Peter asked.

“
Now we need
to see Euol.”

“
What’s a
Euol?”

“
Euol is the
owner the tavern in town,” said Jert. “He also belonged to the
Ves-guards, and he was the one that I left the city of Cayer-Huld
with. He was also liaison to your father before his untimely
death.”

“
When are we
going?” asked the boy, sounding more enthusiastic after the mention
of his father.

“
As soon as
you’re ready.”

“
The
n let’s go.”

“
I’ll be back
in a day,” the farmer said to his wife affectionately.

“
If you think
that I’m waiting for you here by myself bored out of my skull while
you go down the pub, you’re sadly mistaken,” said Huri. “Besides, I
need to buy another Buthwut for the one we borrowed.”

“
Fine then,
we’ll all go. Get whatever you need.”

“
All I need
is money to buy the meat.”

The farmer
reluctantly put his hand in his pocket and brought out five
Hiwwerts. “Here that should cover it.”

“
Well,
actually, I want to get a
few other things.”

Again he
reached into his pocket, and again took out five Hiwwert’s. “There,
is that enough?”

“
We’ll see,”
said his wife.

The Wizard
went for the bookcase where he lifted a small rectangle box. He
opened it and took out his old wand.

“
Are you
expecting trouble, husband?”

“
In this
world at such a time, it would be irresponsible not to take
precautions,” replied the farmer.

“
I don’t know
what you mean, Jert?”

“
Lord Drago
is the King of my world. Therefore, the Dark one will try anything
to stop him from reaching our city,” said the farmer.

“
Jert, you
will destroy us if you mention him here,” said the women fearfully
as she cowered slightly at the thought of that evil coming to their
happy home.

“
And as I
said, taking my wand is only a precaution and nothing
more.”

The truth is,
Huri never really liked the supernatural, though she did not care
that Jert was a Wizard, which means she still would not stop him
from using magic, for in fact, he had used magic to help them start
the farm.

“
If you think
it’s for the best?” said his wife.

“I do,” replied the former Wizard.

An uneasy silence had griped the room.

“
Lord
Drago
... Sorry, is it Drago, or do you
prefer Peter as your name?”

“
Drago is
fine,” said the boy, now regaining his senses. Really, he did not
know why he referred to himself as Peter to the Wizard-farmer and
his wife. “And please leave out the lord part,” he
added.

“
Well
then, Drago, would you like
to help me get the cart ready?” asked the Wizard.

“
Really,
Jert, this is your King, not a stable boy,” said his wife to the
surprise of her husband and the boy King. Neither had expected the
woman to react this way to the boy; she was a Normal after all.
However, she had seen something in the young hero that reminded her
of her own son, and therefore she felt it her duty to look out for
his interests.

“
I don’t
mind,” said Peter.

“
Good. I
wanted the chance to talk to you man to man so to speak,” said
Jert. The farmer went out first, and Peter gladly followed. They
did not have go far before they reached the shed that held the
coach.

“
So how heavy
is this cart?” asked Peter.

“
Oh, we don’t
have to worry about that,” said the farmer. He held up his wand and
waved it at the shed, and its doors flew open. The Wizard slowly
brought the wand back and the cart came out. When it had passed the
threshold, the man waved the wand again, and the shed doors closed.
He then turned to the stables again. He waved the magical rod, and
the stable doors were thrown open, and an old horse appeared. This
time Peter was sure that was a horse, though it was a little
ragged. But what the boy didn’t know was that in that part of the
world, it was rare for any farmer to own a horse, for they were
very dear in price.

“
Are you sure
that horse can pull that cart?” asked Peter.

“
The
cart will move on its own.
It’ll only appear as if the horse is pulling it,” replied
Jert.

Peter felt something nudge him from behind.
It was his new, old chest that had followed them out of the
house.

“
Well,
” said the boy gesturing at
the cart with his hand, “What are you waiting
for.”

As the trunk
had not only heard
but also understood,
it rose up and placed itself on one of the bundles of hay that sat
on the back of the cart.

“
Well,
I’ve said it before and
I’ll say it again, at least I don’t have to carry the thing,” said
Peter.

“You will when we get to town,” Jert pointed
out as he fixed the horse to the cart.

When the
horse and cart were ready, Huri walked out, which meant the farmer
never got the chance to talk to Peter alone.

“
You can sit
in the front, and I can sit in the back if you like, my lord,” said
Huri.

“
No, its
okay. I’ll sit in the back,” said Peter, gritting his teeth. He
hated it when they called him lord.

Peter jumped
onto the back of the wooden cart and stretched across a few of the
bundles of hay. For most of the trip, he was looking up at the grey
cloudy sky. The clouds had begun to break up, and for the first
time Peter saw the sky in that world.

“
The
sky it’s ...it’s
purple!”

“
Yes, a
beautiful light shade of purple, don’t you think?” said Jert. “It’s
different than the Normal world isn’t it?”

“
Yeah, the
sky there is blue,” replied the boy.

The color of
the sky made no difference to the sun, for its rays were yellow,
and as the clouds were breaking in the distance, it looked as
though it might be a beautiful day.

Half an hour
was all it took to get to the town. As they passed through the
wooden gates, Peter saw that most of the buildings were like the
old English townhouses, like those of the mid-1600’s. Most of them
were white, others were yellow, and some were even cream colored.
They were built of stone or brick, up to a certain part. From
there, beams of wood were placed in. Some of the beams were
exposed. Most, however, were hidden within the buildings
themselves. A lot of buildings were slated; others had only wood to
cover their tops, though there were some that were still thatched.
All of the slates looked brand new, and it looked as though soon
enough all of the rooftops would be slated, for it seemed that a
few of the buildings were stripped of whatever had covered them
before and were now being fixed with slates as well.

The farmer
stopped the cart right in front of the inn that he had told Peter
of, which was just across from the market stalls where Huri was
headed.

“
We better
hurry. The sun will be going down in about five hour’s time,” said
the man while laughing.

“
I’ll be over
in the market if you need me,” said Huri, letting on she didn’t
hear her husband’s jest as she hurried to the stalls. She didn’t
even wait for an answer.

“
Fine,” said
Jert, even though he knew she was already gone. The Wizard took the
horses reins and was just about to lead it forward to the small
wooden stables. Just then, Peter’s magical chest sprung to life yet
again and lifted itself off of the hay. Peter sprang forward and
caught it. He half expected it to struggle. To the
Draga-Wizard-Elf’s delight, nothing happened. Peter jumped off of
the cart chest and stood there while the Wizard tied the horse to
one of the wooden posts set in the stables.

The boy held
the chest tightly in his arms just in case it changed its mood and
decided to dance down the street in front of any
passersby.