Chapter 3: The Orbs of Water and Air

The ship rolled back and forth on the stormy seas, lolling about in an endless wave of blue and white foam that splashed on its wooden sides. On the deck of the Everlasting, a man, tall and emaciated, stood, his attire strange: a yellow, pointy hat hid all but his eyes, while a dark blue cloak flapped around in the wind. He stood there, wind making no affect on the hat, as it seemed to resist the wind's call to move it.

"Stranger, he is," muttered the captain, a grizzled old man, with one leg that was shorter than the other. He looked at man, a mage of dark magic, with a mixture of curiosity and contempt.

"Whence did he come from?" Another passenger smiled as he asked, feeling the breeze on her face. Free at last, from the blasted place she had to call home for twelve days. Free.

"Come from? Mistress, he came from the same place you did! The Blighted Lands, where the armies of elves and Imps clashed two thousand years ago. Now, all that's left of those hell-bitten islands are ghosts of the dead, and men with enough dark history to strand themselves there." He looked at his passenger's face. "You were lucky your ship crashed at the time the Everlasting came, there's been no ship there for hundreds of years, since the Breaking of the Alliance. Nor any ship in most any part of the seas," he muttered to himself.

"You said the King ordered you here...why?"

"Why, to bring back that mage, o'course! He's probably a criminal, he is, who kidnapped the King's daughter. And my reward was richly paid for going out on the seas these days." He patted his pocket, and the lady heard Gils clinking.

"Strange though, he never resisted when we found thing. Stranger thing is that we did find him. It is not easy to do in these parts."

The lady smiled again. "He is mysterious, no doubt about that." She walked over to him.

"Do you find the seas as refreshing as I do, stranger?"

The mage smiled underneath the deep folds of his cloak as he looked at the sun set, filling the skies with a red, bloody haze. His voice was calm and clear, without the gritty tones one would think of a man hidden beneath hat and cloak.

"Do you know why they call it the Aldi Seas, Lady?"

"No."

"Because, during the Second Age of this world, so much of Gaia's blood drained down the giant rivers and into the seas, that it was called the Red Seas: the name in the Old Tongue for Red was Aldi."

The lady's smile faded off, and her eyebrows arced in fury. "You did not need to wishwash me with that bit of folklore, mage!"

She turned around, as a seaman on the deck looked the endless horizon. "Look, there is the port of Coneria!" he cried. The mage and lady look, one look calculating and the other awed: rising ahead, in a harbor, was a massive lighthouse; even the gulls were only skimming the thermals half way up the structure. As each of the sections of the towering spire rose, the thinner and most elegantly carved it got, until a massive light shone at the top.

Below, dozens of ships, man o' wars of the Coneria fleet, merchant ships, and small crafts mingled, each tied to the docks, unmoving. The only ship out at sea was the Everlasting.

As if the Fiend of the Water, Kraken, had come, the seas swelled in size, azure water foaming onto the deck of the ship with increasing strength. Sailors looked alarm, and the Captain shouted to his men for the riggings to be untangled, and the sails unfurled. The lady moved into the safety of her cabin.

Sharks, half as big as the Everlasting, began circling, creating more panic in the seamen and Captain. Some sailors, forgoing their duties, prayed for mercy to the Tari. Here, only a few leagues from the Port of Coneria, they were about to sink in the depths of the Red Sea, in full daylight.

But their deliverance had already home.

"Thunor e liten!"

The long arms of the Black Mage stretched out to the heavens, as he said the incantations with a rising, bellowing voice. Thunder crackled, and lightning, long, thin strands from the sky, reached down and smelted the sharks to their deaths, their bellies showing as they floated haplessly in the calming seas.

The Captain of the Everlasting looked stunned. The Mage looked at him, yellow, glowing eyes under that straw colored hat. They seemed so innocent, but the Mage was powerful himself...

"If you wish to dine on fresh shark fins, my Captain, have your men haul out a shark." And with that, the Black Mage walked back to his cabin.

The Captain stood, open mouth. Magic! Here, before his very eyes. Witchcraft, aye, that's the charge that I'm bringing up for.

"Halt, Mage. What is your name?"

The robes of the retreating mage stopped swishing, as his yellow eyes narrowed. "Bane."

Lukhan scribbled on a piece parchment, dipping his ink and carelessly letting it dribble on the fine parchment. It had been six weeks since he had told the King of his strange story. Six weeks since the King of Coneria had sent out his riders to find these Light Warriors, for them to bring back his daughter.

Whence do they come?

And he had not yet found the fourth one. ...dark may he be, is right under your nose. Deep in thought, Lukhan almost didn't notice the Conerian Guard coming into his room. The Guard, nicknamed Klad, for no one really knew what his true name was, had been in his service for almost two years, as a messenger. Lukhan had chosen him for his almost unnatural knowledge of the Prophecies, and of the shadowy kingdoms of Amlador and Tekam. The man knew more than the Lords of Coneria did.

Like the other men of the King's Own, he was tall, dark, and had an aura of unbreakable pride in him. He wore no armor; it was not required inside the Dream Castle. But his alert steps, long strides, and knowledge marked him from the many Guards Lukhan could have chosen to be his helper.

"Master Lukhan." The Guard made a deep bow, with his thin sabre hanging in his belt bowing with him.

"Klad. Have you any news of the return?"

"The three Warriors are coming into the Castle this evening. They have all arrived."

"Good, good. I hope you have had-" The lore-master's eyes bulged. Whas that what he thought it was? On the Guard's right hand, a bracelet with a single, stylish marble-like sphere. Almost reflexively, the Guard's hand went to his sword hilt.

Right under your nose...

"You are the Fourth," Lukhan said, looking intently at the man's stony, serene face. Klad nodded placidly in return.

"Why did you not tell me?"

The soldier smiled, eyes mixing his sadness and honor.

"It is said in the Prophecies that the Four Warriors would not proclaim themselves. That, in the time of the greatest need of the world by Gaia's people, they would search for those who would lead the world back into the Light. And the duty and honor that come in the service of the Light would not be claimed, but found: for the warriors would have to lead the whole of our world to battle against the shadow. It is a task not to be claimed."

Again, the soldier made a formal bow.

"That is why I did not proclaim myself."

Lukhan nodded sagely, as the King's Guard looked lost among his own thoughts.

"Are you prepared for this duty, then?"

The soldier drew his thin sword, and knelt to one knee, with his head lowered and sword in his hands as if he was offering it to the mage.

"By my honor and duty, I shall do what I must to serve the Tari and my king."

And as Lukhan looked at him, he wondered what the last riddle meant: "dark may he be..."