The Second Prophecy (Part 1 of the Dragdani Prophecies) (45 page)

“
What’s
wrong?” asked Peter.

“That tree root,” said the frightened boy,
pointing at the offending piece of tree.

“
What about
the tree root?”

“I think it moved,” replied Braten.

“
It
moved? I
s that all?”

“
What do you
mean, is that all?”

“
Well,
its moving is nothing
compared to what it’s saying about you,” said
Peter.

“
How can you
say that as if this is just an ordinary everyday thing?” said
Braten, now more distressed. “Hey wait, are you trying to tell me
that the trees are talking?”

“
Are you
kidding? That is all they’ve done since we got here,” said Peter.
“And since we heated up that rock, they haven’t shut up. But don’t
worry. They won’t hurt you.”

“
Did they
tell you that?” asked Braten, gesturing to the nearest tree with a
swift move of his head.

“
No, but I’m
sure that if they wanted to kill us, they’d have done it while we
slept. I mean, what’s the point of waiting until we got up?” said
Peter.

“
There’s
something to think about.”

“
Would you
come on? They’re not going to hurt us.”

“
Fine,” said
Braten, taking a step forward as slowly as was humanly
possible.

Peter could hear more voices just beyond the
trees in front of them. “Come on,” he said to Braten. He was eager
to see what lay ahead.

“
I’m coming,”
said the other boy as he quickened his pace. Peter went on without
him.

The voices
became louder as they reached a clearing about only twenty meters
in.

“
I was
right,” said Braten sounding excited. “It is Gnomes.”

The Gnomes
were like tiny red people who were just about to go into battle.
They weren’t wearing any armor, just funny little blue and purple
clothes that looked as though they were once leaves. Peter was even
more surprised to see their tiny weapons: swords, knives, bows and
quivers of arrows.

“
Yeah, but
what are those other things?” Peter asked his friend. He was
referring to the creatures opposite the Gnomes. They were small,
grey, gangly creatures; they were in their birthday suits, which to
them was really their every day suits. They were also very thin, a
lot thinner than their enemies. Their eyes were almost pinpricks in
their heads, though their mouths were the opposite, for they were
way too big for their heads. Their arms looked too short, their
legs too long, and they had no weapons that could be seen with the
naked eye.

“
I don’t
know,” said Braten, “but the trees might.”

“
I don’t know
if they can hear what I’m saying.”

“
Try
it.”

“
Fine, I’ll
try it,” said Peter. He turned to the nearest tree and started to
talk in the strangest way his friend had ever heard. Keep in mind,
though, that Braten had only heard two languages in his life, one
being the common language of his home. The other was the language
of Gnomes.

To Peter, it
was as if he were still talking in the English language. He was at
it for what must have been five minutes.

“
So what did
it say?” asked Braten when it seemed he was finished.

“
It said that
we’ve stumbled into the last battle in a war between the forest
Gnomes and the Gre-Imps,” Peter replied hastily.

“
Gre-Imps, is
that what they are?”

“
You know
about them?”

“
Yeah,
well, not really. M
y dad told me about
them, but I had no idea what they looked like. He isn’t really good
at describing things,” said Braten.

“
Well
, the tree said the war began
two years ago when the Gnomes found that the petals of some type of
flower had changed from red/blue to pink and blamed the Imps for
it,” said Peter with a wry smile on his lips.

“
Is that it,
a bunch of stupid flowers? That’s what started the war?”

“
Not just
that, according to Mr. Tree, here,” said Peter, patting the tree
bark lightly. “It said that the Imps didn’t deny it, and in fact
claimed that this part of the forest as well as their own belonged
to them and not the Gnomes.”

“
Wow, so
that’s it? That’s what started the war?” said Braten.

“
No, that’s
not all,” said Peter, as he was getting into the story. Braten had
pulled himself closer so not to miss a word.

“
Apparently,
the Imps attacked one of the small outposts of the Gnomes and
killed some of their people.”

“
Wow,
really?”

“
Well,
that’s what the tree told
me,” said Peter nodding.

“Wow, I have a feeling this is going to be
good,” said Braten excitedly.

“Hope so,” said Peter.

However, they
would not get to see it, for just before the battle was about to
begin, Braten pulled a small twig off of a tree root in front of
him, forgetting about the talking trees. There was a great,
horrifying moan out of the tree next to him, and suddenly all eyes
were on them.

“
What are you
doing?” Peter spat at him.

But before an
answer could be heard or even given, the Gre-Imps, seeing their way
out of this battle, all shouted. “IT WAS THEM! THEY MUST HAVE BEEN
THE ONES THAT CHANGED THE COLOR OF YOUR RAWTUOTS! THEY TOOK OUR
CHILDREN AND THEATENED TO KILL EVERY ONE OF THEM IF WE DIDN’T
ATTACK YOUR PEOPLE!”

Not giving
any argument to this, the boys ran back the way they
came.

“
SEE! SEE!”
shouted the Imp King. “IT WAS THEM! WHY WOULD INNOCENTS
RUN?”

The Gnomes,
who not only believed their advisories but were also thinking the
exact same thing, gave chase. No less than ten thousand Forest
Gnomes trampled through the woodlands after the two boys.” Peter,
who was running just behind Braten, wished that he could catch up.
Suddenly, his legs started to run faster and faster and even
faster. He shot passed his friend and proceeded to run on, through
no choice of his own. For when he tried to stop, he found that his
legs would not respond. This meant he made it back to camp first,
on account of his super speed, and had then undone Braten’s spell
and proceeded to throw the pillows and blankets back into his
chest.

Braten had a
harder time in getting away, as the Gnomes were no longer just
chasing hi. Now their reserve troops were in front of him, running
straight for the young Wizard. As they jumped at him, he kicked
them away, as they couldn’t really jump that high. But it didn’t
matter. They were slowing him down, which meant their friends were
getting closer to the boy with every kick. Just as he thought he
was caught, some of the roots of the trees around him came out of
the ground and swatted the small creatures away. As he picked up
speed, he could have sworn that one of the roots saluted him, and
although he felt grateful, he still could not wait to get out of
that place and away from that land altogether.

It did not
take Braten long to find his way back to the clearing. Only when he
did, he went on without stopping, for he knew that Peter was faster
and would catch up with hardly any afford. He learned that as they
started their getaway. All he could see of his friend was his back
getting further and further away, and in truth he was right, as not
long after he had passed the campsite, Peter was on his way again,
though as fast as he even was, he was still not fast enough. As
soon as he had buggered off, the Gnomes were there right on his
tail, literally, for in all the excitement, his tail had given yet
again another appearance as he ran at full speed thinking he had
escaped the wrath of the normally peaceful Forest Gnomes. Their
archers quickly ran arrows onto the strings of their long bows
(well they were long to them), and not waiting for any order, let
them fly.

Most of the
tiny shafts completely missed, hit his wooden chest, or clattered
off of Peter’s Dragon-scaled tail. But one hit right on his left
butt cheek, which instantaneously and dramatically slowed his
running but surprisingly didn’t stop him.

When they had
got only half a mile from the clearing and were quite convinced
that the Gnomes were no longer following, the two boys rested. When
Peter had finally caught up, that is.

“
What
happened to you?” asked Braten.

“
Oh, nothing,
really. I just got an arrow in the ass,” replied Peter, who was
more than a little frustrated.

Braten closed
his eyes as to stop himself from laughing, but it didn’t work, and
he burst into fits of laughter. “It looks like just,” he paused for
a second or two, “a Little Pain in the Arse,” he said in
between.

“
Ha, ha, very
funny.”

“
Oh, come on.
You know that if it were me instead of you, you’d be killing
yourself laughing,” said Braten.

“
Yeah, but
that’s different. That’s me.” Peter gave what looked like a tiny
smile, which was all he could give at the time. “God, I hope it’s
not poisoned.”

Braten’s
mouth fell open; the thought had never even crossed his
mind.

“
What are we
going to do if it is? I mean, how do we know?” he said genuinely
concerned.

“
I don’t know
how to tell if it is poisoned, but if so, you’ll have to suck it
out.”

“
I don’t
think so.” Braten took a step back.

“
If you
don’t, I might die,” said Peter.

“
Sorry to
tell you this mate, but you might die.”

Peter let out howling laugh.

“
It’s okay.
It’s not poisoned. I can tell,” said Peter.

“
How can you
tell?”

“
I don’t
know. I just know it’s not poisoned.”

“Thank the gods for that,” said Braten.

“
Well,
it’s nice to know who your
friends are.”

“
Sorry, but
I’ll never suck anyone’s arse.”

At that they laughed again.

“
So
can you help me take this
thing out?” asked Peter still clearly distressed.

Chapter Ninteen

Peter and
Braten found that the arrow was so small and so far in that in the
end Peter had to use his powers to get it out. Just like with the
knife when he faced the
Lores, Peter
imagined the arrow in his hand, and his arse lit up with a blue
light, and when he looked, the offending shaft was there staring
right back at him. “Good, now I can sit down,” he said, relived by
the thought. But when he tried, he winced and realized that the
wound had not healed properly.

“
What’s going
on? Usually I’d be healed by now,” he said to Braten, who looked
deep in thought.

“
The
Gnomes,” he said after a
minute or two.

“
What about
the Gnomes?”

“
The
y use enchanted arrows
specifically designed for magical creatures and people to stop any
type of magic from healing their wounds too quickly,” said Braten
proudly. “My dad told me that.”

“
Great, what
other brilliant things can happen to me in this dazzling, amazing,
fantastic, extraordinary, crappy world,” ranted Peter.

“
So do you
want to do? Just wait till morning or what?”

“
Why? What’ll
happen in the morning that’ll fix my ass?” Peter retorted, suddenly
feeling extremely upset after all that had happened to
him.

“
Oh, I forgot
to tell you, the affects of the Gnome’s arrows should only last
about twenty four hours or so,” said Braten.

“
No, we
should try to
put as much distance as
possible between us and those head cases with the small arrows,”
said the young King, answering his friend’s
question.

“
Are you sure
you’ll be all right?”

“
I’ll be
fine. My butt cheek isn’t exactly a fatal area,” said Peter,
sounding a little more contented than before.

“
So which way
do you think we should go now?” said Braten.

“
Why
are you asking me? Y
ou’re the guide
here,” replied Peter.

“
What are you
talking about? I’ve never been this far before in my life. To tell
you the truth, my dad never took me farther then the first forest
we passed, and so far, we’ve already past four.”

“
So what
you’re telling me is that you’re not a guide,” said
Peter.

“
Where in the
hell did you get that idea?”

“
Your dad he
told me that you were the best guide there was.”

“
Why
would he say that?
I couldn’t find the
west road out of town if I tried,” said Braten. “But wait. He did
give us a map. I put in my pack.”

The chest
opened and spat out a long folded piece of parchment. Peter caught
it and said, “Thanks,” to the chest and opened the map.