The Dawn of Darkness

Deaf to the conversation between Deyna, Zeek, and Hawk, Winnrey stared at her strange surroundings. They were telling Hawk all that had happened before coming to her. Here was the obvious home of a blacksmith with metal creations everywhere, the different tools, and a huge forge. Bookcases covered most of the walls, carrying strangely bound books, unknown powders and liquids, strange equipment, and a glass orb. The room was decorated with blinding shades of yellow, red, blue, and green.

“The stuff of gypsies, that is.” Hawk said interrupting Winnrey’s thoughts.

“Gypsies?” questioned Winnrey, “I thought they were travelers.”

“Oh, but they are. They are also one of the last peoples, like royalty, monks, and a few special families, with the Ancient Magic flowing in their veins.” Hawk grinned, “And those,” gesturing to some strange stuffed creatures, “Are some of the surviving creatures of the Magic Age.”

“What is Zeek then?” asked Deyna. Hawk stood and went into her kitchen.

“From what you’ve told me, Zeek is either part of a royal family, descendant of a gypsy family, or he’s just an exception to the rule as usual.”

“I was hoping I was a monk.” joked Zeek. He laughed. It seemed easier for him to laugh now.

Long after Hawk’s visitors were comfortable in her home, she set quickly prepared meal out on the table. The center piece of the meal was a baked chicken resting on a steaming plate of stuffing. A big bowl of salad and a loaf of bread surrounded the chicken. Hawk was obviously used to entertaining unexpected visitors. The meal reminded Winnrey of the meals cooked by the royal cooks at home, making her a little homesick. She pushed the feeling away.

“So, what can I do to repay my debt?” Hawk asked, after the table had been cleared.

“Well, we need disguises, weapons, and better transport.” Zeek said slowly.

“You’re being hunted, aren’t you?” She read between his words.

“Yes.”

“By who?”

“Yeah, Zeek. You never told us.” Winnrey added. Zeek bowed his head, eyes darkening.

“I don’t know what they are, but they are powerful.” A chair scraped the floor. In a flash, Hawk was standing by the bookcase with the mysterious orb. A milky cloud swirled around inside it.

“Maybe I can see who they are.” suggested Hawk, setting the orb on the table. Ditto, finally awake from his nap by the fire, climbed onto the table to get a better look at the orb. Hawk settled in a chair across from it, never taking her eyes off of it. Her eye, glowing silver, bore into the glass as the cloud swirled and changed colors faster and faster. Silence screamed in their ears as they stared at the picture in the orb. Four darkly hooded figures sat, like statues, hunched over tall black horses. One of the horses snorted and stomped at the frozen ground. The figures looked confused. Red eyes glowed from inside the shadowed hoods. Those cruel eyes searched the barren landscape for signs of a trail. One figure stirred. It turned its terrible eyes as if it could see its watchers. The skeleton of a hand reached out of the cloak and pointed at Winnrey. It laughed a high pitched, blood curdling sound, sending chills down everyone’s spine.

Everyone sat frozen with fear. Before they could react, the hand reached out of the orb, for Winnrey. She screamed, scrambling back from the hand. Suddenly Zeek jumped up and shouted, “Reverto ut vestri vinco, scum!” He held his pal out towards the hand. His hair flew wildly, eyes shining silver like Hawk’s one eye, as a green beam of light shot out of his palm. The thing screamed in anger as it disappeared. The image faded and the orb went blank.
Hawk sat back weakly in her chair, her eternally mutilated face twisted in fear.

“Wh-what w-as th-that?” Winnrey shivered, eyes widened.

“One of the Elders.” Hawk’s voice cracked, “They’re dead... or supposed to be. They willingly let demons possess their bodies back in the time of the War of the Ancients.”

“You see, that is why we need your help.” Zeek said, the only one that was calm. Hawk got up shakily, her chair scraping, eerily across the floor.

“I will help you. Fate obviously needs you for great things, but you need to stay alive. Go to Mother Milla. She will tell you your Fate.”

“How did you do that? What did you do?” Deyna’s voice trembled.

“That was the Ancient Tongue. He told it to return to its master.” said Winnrey, “How do you know it?”

“My master, when I was a slave, taught me.” Zeek said quietly. “I’d never been able to perform spells of any kind. It just came to me.”

“You were a slave?” Zeek looked away.

“Winn, leave it alone.” Deyna warned shaking his curly halcyon head, like a golden halo around his face.