A Dream of Mortals

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ragon stood at the edge of the grassy knoll at the far end of the Isle of Light, and he looked out at the vast ocean before him, wondering where Thorgrin could be. He had left so abruptly, it had caught Ragon off guard—and rarely in his life had Ragon been caught off guard. Somehow, for the first time in his life, he had not foreseen it.

Ragon had been so certain of how things were going to play out: he had foreseen Thorgrin’s arrival on the island, and had thought he had foreseen Thor’s reuniting with Guwayne, though his vision on this had been hazy.

And yet he was certain he had never foreseen Thorgrin leaving so abruptly, especially in the middle of the night. At first he had been completely baffled as to why this had happened—until he had seen, high in the skies, the passing shadow, a demon unleashed from hell, and he realized exactly what had happened. Thorgrin had been deceived; he had been led astray, had fallen prey to one of the dark forces of the underworld. They must be very powerful forces, indeed, Ragon realized, if it could reach all the way to the Isle of Light and could affect a warrior and a druid like Thorgrin.

It all made Ragon fear for Thorgrin’s future. What monumental powers could possibly be at work in the universe, could be using Thorgrin as their plaything? Why was Thorgrin so important that they would visit him personally? Thorgrin was clearly more powerful than Ragon had realized; he had underestimated his great destiny. He had underestimated him, and had underestimated the forces at work around him.

Guwayne, in Ragon’s arms, began to cry, and Ragon rocked him, looking down into his eyes, gray like Thorgrin’s.

“Shhhh.”

Ragon rocked Guwayne, and Guwayne immediately fell silent. He felt the young child’s warmth in his arms as he soothed him to sleep. He felt it a great honor to hold this child, of whom he had foreseen an even greater fate.

Yet Ragon was baffled that he was still holding Guwayne, that Thorgrin had not reunited with him and taken him away. He had expected to harbor Guwayne only for a short period of time, only until Thorgrin had returned. And now here he was, still with the child, while Thorgrin was out there somewhere searching for him. Ragon knew something wasn’t right. A great wrong had been perpetuated in the universe, and Thorgrin, led astray, had to be set straight. He had to be given clarity and reunited with his boy.

Ragon looked up to the skies, saw Lycoples circling, and he closed his eyes and commanded her silently:

Go, my child.

High above there came a screech in response, and Lycoples circled, again and again, flying away—but then, curiously, turning back. Ragon was baffled; Lycoples had always obeyed his commands. And yet now, she seemed hesitant.

Go. Search the seas. Find Thorgrin. Bring him back to me.

Ragon opened his eyes and expected Lycoples to do his bidding—yet she would not go.

Ragon could not understand. Why would Lycoples be reluctant to leave? He could sense her trying to tell him something, and yet this, too, was obscured. Was he being kept in the dark? Did Lycoples foresee a dark future that he could not?

Ragon closed his eyes and tried to see the future, tried to see Thor returning, reuniting with Guwayne…. But for some reason, his vision was obscured. He could see nothing. Only blackness.

“GO!” Ragon shouted, his voice unearthly, firm, raising his voice and his staff. Guwayne started crying.

This time, Lycoples screeched in protest, then suddenly she turned, flapped her wings, and flew off into the horizon.

Ragon watched her go, fading into the scarlet sky, and despite himself, he could not help but feel as if some great darkness were coming.