In the forest the wizard shall die.
And in his place the Dragon shall rise.
It was the dream again, the same one he had been having since he was a child. In fact part of him knew that it was his first dream. The first time he had it he could barely remember that his father had come into his room to soothe him. The thing was even though he was sweating, he was never afraid. On the contrary the dreams always left him sweating from the sweet exhilaration of it all.
It always started the same. He was in a cave, a deep one near the very heart of the mountain. How he knew this he couldn't fathom he just new it something told him it was so. It wasn't cold and damp in this cave like one would think. No it was warm, very warm. All around him he could see figures, hundreds maybe thousands, all clothed in black wearing strange looking garments. Neither the usual wizard robe nor the garb of muggles. And even though there was no light in the cave no torches or candles, yet he could see as if the place was bathed in the light of the noon day sun.
Suddenly, in his hands he is holding a blade. This is no ornate blade or the blade of a gentleman. This blade had a single edge was a good four and a half feet long, and about four inches wide. Along the width of the blade were inscribed many runes and symbols, from these he could feel power flowing through them into himself. This was a blade meant to do one thing and one thing only. Slay his enemies.
The sound of bells resounds through the cave. He raises his blade toward the large exit of the cave. As one the figures in black snap to attention and turn to begin filling out of the cave. He turns to his left and nods at two figures standing there at his side. They bring a fist to there chest before they leave to follow the others out.
Neville's dream self then turns to another exit next to the raised portion of the cave he is standing on. This leads to a tunnel whose floor, ceiling and walls are as smooth as glass. At the end of the tunnel he sees day light. When he reaches the other side he finds a sheer drop off of about 700 feet. Stripping from the waste and attaching the sword to his belt, he jumps into the nothing ness of the air. This was were Neville's heart would begin to pound. Down he would plunge a hundred feet, two hundred, three hundred strait down the side of this smooth cliff. He feels his body begin to change his arms and legs getting longer his torso becoming bulkier. Muscles growing and shrinking, his finger and toe nails lengthening into claws. Unbelievable pain in his shoulder blades. About a hundred feet from the ground, Neville feels himself begin to glide then move away from the mountain horizontally.
Every thing was going as it always had until the voices began intruding. "We need to tell him before we do it." One of the voices said. Another snapped back "We may not have a choice if he doesn't wake up soon."
"What do you need to tell me" Neville whispers.
The voices stop there arguing and as Neville's vision becomes clearer he sees two figures above him. "Ah, little brother it is good to see you are awake at last." One of the ones above him says. From some where outside his vision a voice that sounds like gravel in his ears says. "Try not to move too much you've suffered massive internal injuries to your head and torso."
"Where am I?" Neville asks the figures he can see, becoming a little frightened as the shock began wearing off and the pain began to set in. It felt as if he had been run over by a herd of centaur. "You're safe, at least for now little brother. But now that you are awake we need to discuss what we are going to do with you."
It was the dream again, the same one he had been having since he was a child. In fact part of him knew that it was his first dream. The first time he had it he could barely remember that his father had come into his room to soothe him. The thing was even though he was sweating, he was never afraid. On the contrary the dreams always left him sweating from the sweet exhilaration of it all.
It always started the same. He was in a cave, a deep one near the very heart of the mountain. How he knew this he couldn't fathom he just new it something told him it was so. It wasn't cold and damp in this cave like one would think. No it was warm, very warm. All around him he could see figures, hundreds maybe thousands, all clothed in black wearing strange looking garments. Neither the usual wizard robe nor the garb of muggles. And even though there was no light in the cave no torches or candles, yet he could see as if the place was bathed in the light of the noon day sun.
Suddenly, in his hands he is holding a blade. This is no ornate blade or the blade of a gentleman. This blade had a single edge was a good four and a half feet long, and about four inches wide. Along the width of the blade were inscribed many runes and symbols, from these he could feel power flowing through them into himself. This was a blade meant to do one thing and one thing only. Slay his enemies.
The sound of bells resounds through the cave. He raises his blade toward the large exit of the cave. As one the figures in black snap to attention and turn to begin filling out of the cave. He turns to his left and nods at two figures standing there at his side. They bring a fist to there chest before they leave to follow the others out.
Neville's dream self then turns to another exit next to the raised portion of the cave he is standing on. This leads to a tunnel whose floor, ceiling and walls are as smooth as glass. At the end of the tunnel he sees day light. When he reaches the other side he finds a sheer drop off of about 700 feet. Stripping from the waste and attaching the sword to his belt, he jumps into the nothing ness of the air. This was were Neville's heart would begin to pound. Down he would plunge a hundred feet, two hundred, three hundred strait down the side of this smooth cliff. He feels his body begin to change his arms and legs getting longer his torso becoming bulkier. Muscles growing and shrinking, his finger and toe nails lengthening into claws. Unbelievable pain in his shoulder blades. About a hundred feet from the ground, Neville feels himself begin to glide then move away from the mountain horizontally.
Every thing was going as it always had until the voices began intruding. "We need to tell him before we do it." One of the voices said. Another snapped back "We may not have a choice if he doesn't wake up soon."
"What do you need to tell me" Neville whispers.
The voices stop there arguing and as Neville's vision becomes clearer he sees two figures above him. "Ah, little brother it is good to see you are awake at last." One of the ones above him says. From some where outside his vision a voice that sounds like gravel in his ears says. "Try not to move too much you've suffered massive internal injuries to your head and torso."
"Where am I?" Neville asks the figures he can see, becoming a little frightened as the shock began wearing off and the pain began to set in. It felt as if he had been run over by a herd of centaur. "You're safe, at least for now little brother. But now that you are awake we need to discuss what we are going to do with you."