AN: Update-age
AN: Update-age! Yay! See, I told you reviews inspire me to update quicker (and make me smile!)! So, I'm going to actually start typing now.
I have one thing to say before I start: The identities of the people in the prologue will be revealed during the story. Virtual cheese, cookies and milk to anyone who manages to guess who they are! Cheese, cookies and milk will be awarded at the end of the chapter in which the identities are revealed.
Disclaimer: I own the plot and the prophecy I wrote but the rest is Marianne Curley's.
Ethan
I follow Neriah and her dogs up to Arkarian's chambers, ignoring Dillon, who is practically drooling on his shoes as he walks next to me. His obsession with Neriah has gone too far. Arkarian has called a private meeting right after school and Dillon is still more interested in checking out Neriah.
I hope Isabel's okay. She didn't look so good when she left history earlier. Come to think of it, Rochelle didn't look so good when she came back into history either. I risk a quick glance at her. She's walking with Neriah, nodding as Neriah tells her about a load of random mundane things just for the sake of conversation.
She looks so pretty with the speckled sunlight shining on her hair through the leaves. I can't help but think of the way things could have been…
No! Bad Ethan! She's your colleague now! I scold myself.
I need to get those thoughts right out of my head. I've got to work with Rochelle so those feelings need to leave my system right now. I don't like Rochelle in that way. It's just because I've been around Dillon too much while he checks out random girls. Yes, that's the reason. I know it is.
"Ethan!" Dillon calls, waving his hand centimetres away from my nose. "You all right?"
"Yep," I reply as we step into the mountain. "I was just wondering what this meeting's about." It's not a total lie; I was wondering about the meeting to begin with.
We enter the sphere chamber to find that Dad, Jimmy, Mr Carter and Isabel are already there, seated on Arkarian's favourite stools. Isabel looks a little shaken but she manages a smile as I look her way, sitting down on the stool provided for me. Dillon immediately starts fidgeting (when does he ever stop?) and Rochelle examines her feet as if seeing them for the first time. Neriah just greets everyone pleasantly.
It doesn't take Arkarian long to materialise but when he does, he's not alone. With him is King Richard, newly healed and as jovial as ever. He recognises Isabel and me immediately.
"My dear lady Madeline," he greets Isabel.
"It's Isabel, sire," Isabel corrects.
King Richard's smile deepens. "But of course." He turns to me but is prevented from answering by Arkarian, who gestures to his to sit down on an oak chair while he himself sits on a stool.
Calm as ever, Arkarian explains, "I have to get straight to the point. Isabel had a strange, vision-like experience earlier today. I have relayed the information to my father and he has called a full meeting with the tribunal… and us named."
"But I haven't been initiated yet!" Neriah protests.
Dillon states, "And I'm not actually named. Does this mean Ner and I don't get to go?"
Arkarian continues, "All of us in this room will be going. The meeting is set to happen right now. Jimmy has assured Isabel's mother that she is safe on a hiking expedition with him, Shaun, Ethan, Dillon and Neriah. The same excuse had been made for all of you."
King Richard waves his hand, producing a vial of dark blue liquid that splits into a glass full for each of us. He distributes one to each of us. "Drink these," he instructs. "You will fall into a deep sleep and be able to be transported to Athens immediately. If I were you, I would make myself comfortable on the floor."
We all do as he says. The last thing I hear before the weightless feeling of transportation kicks in is the whooshing sound that signifies the disappearance of King Richard and Arkarian.
I struggle to keep my footing as I land in the circular chamber the tribunal meet in, in Athens. It must be important; I haven't even been given a tunic, I'm still in my school uniform.
"Seat yourselves in the centre of the circle." The voice of Lorian seems to come out of nowhere before he materialises in his position at the head of the circle.
I notice that we've all been given stools to sit on in the centre of the circle and plonk my bum down on one of them, in between Isabel and Neriah. Now, I notice that the tribunal are in an equally dishevelled state, with none of them in robes.
Lord Penbarin is in a pair of yellow trousers with a short red tunic over the top and a sword at his waist. That strikes me as odd; all of the tribunal are armed with weapons – including the immortal. Lady Arabella, immediately to the right of the immortal, is so close to the edge of the stool that a sudden gust of wind might knock her off it.
I've never seen the tribunal members so on edge! Mind you, I've never seen the tribunal in anything but their ceremonial clothing. My eyes stop at the immortal as I glance around the chamber once more. There's something weird about the guard's leader and it's not that he's wearing a pair of black trousers with a white shirt and a sword dangling from his waist instead of the long tunics he usually favours. It's something else…
His eyes open, and he speaks, looking at each of us in turn. "Matt will be joining us shortly. My brother will be explaining to him what I am explaining to you."
Brother? So Matt's being trained by an immortal. Isabel suspects Matt's trainer could be his father. If he is then Matt could be immortal!
"Firstly, Isabel's vision should be shown to you all so that everyone can build up a picture of what may take place." The immortal's hands do a wide sweep of the chamber.
The temperature drops and my eyelids feel strangely heavy. I take this as a cue to close my eyes. The moment I do, images pour into my mind.
The first is of a wall that vaguely resembles the wall on which the prophecy is written, complete with the coded writing, only not our code because I can't see any warped English letters.
Next, I spot a tuft of blue hair under bed covers. It's Arkarian but younger. Walking away from him is a man with black hair. I study him and feel a flash of recognition but I still don't know who he is. He sure doesn't look very happy whoever he is!
A feminine scream makes me jump as the image changes. I'm watching through a stone archway. I spy the reason for the scream: Marduke, crossing the archway.
"No! No! Stop! Please stop!" That's Rochelle! And she's crying!
Before I have a chance to dwell on what's going on, I see Isabel chained to the wall struggling furiously. Then my vision zooms through the wall to Arkarian and Matt on their way to liberate them. I don't think I've ever seen Arkarian's eyes radiate that much fury
Among the next wave of images, I spot a woman with her greying hair pulled on top of her head into a bun. Her eyes are warm and brown. She could be some relation to Isabel and Matt.
The tip of a dagger in a pool of black liquid and red blood flashes into view then everything slows down and I spot the wall from the fist image once again.
"You must be ready. It is soon. You have been warned." It's definitely a woman not one I have ever spoken to.
As I become aware of the room around me again, I hear her whisper to me. "I am sorry."
I don't look back at what I saw in much detail; the immortal will probably explain it. At least, I'm assuming that's why we've been brought here. I fix my eyes on the immortal. Lorian is frowning, eyes downcast. I turn my focus to the other named and see that only Isabel and Arkarian are alert, apart from the tribunal and Lorian of course.
The door swings open to reveal Matt with a person I could not mistake for anyone but the brother Lorian was talking about earlier. Looking at them together, I would say Lorian definitely looks older than his brother, probably something to do with his expression and their eye colour is different; Lorian's eyes are violet while his brother's are yellow/gold.
Matt silently produces a stool and sets it beside his sister before plonking himself on it. We all sit in silence, waiting for everyone to come around. Dillon is the last one to do so.
"Whoa! When did you appear?" He exclaims, pointing at Matt.
Matt grins but doesn't say anything. I follow his gaze and see that the immortal is standing.
He speaks in a language I've never heard, regarding his brother thoughtfully. The other immortal replies in the same language, nodding and smiling. Lorian waves his hand saying something else in that language then turns to us.
"You all saw the vision," he states. "It seems a change of plan has shown itself at last. We have not been completely honest with you but, in our defence, there was no need to be." He runs his fingers through his hair. "Where to start?"
"The beginning?" His brother puts in helpfully.
Lorian smiles cryptically, "But which one, Dartemis?"
Dartemis shrugs. "You're the leader of the Guard."
Lorian laughs and mutters something in that strange language he used earlier. Then he composes himself and continues. "I can only tell you what you need to know. I am not deliberately hiding things from you. You must understand that." He pauses. "There is a prophecy- not your prophecy; that one is a mere guide and I have already told you that it can change. No, this one is fixed. No human. No other entity can alter the course of this prophecy. It is beyond us and is in a code most difficult to crack."
"But we have done it," Dartemis finishes.
"You have done it," Lorian corrects.
Dartemis retorts, "You found it. If you hadn't then this new prophecy would be well, new to us and we would be unprepared for what will happen next."
"Get on with it!" Lorian commands. "We have limited time before rift storm hits! It will demolish our enchantments and you will be no longer safe!"
"You're grouchy," Dartemis observes. "You shouldn't work so hard." He notices the look his brother is giving him. "All right! All right! I'm doing it!"
"You can skip the first verse," Lorian informs him. "It has already happened so is not relevant."
"I will." He clears his throat. "It is very old so is a little confusing but not impossible to comprehend.
Before the eight stones stir once more
Suspicious she, seeded of evil, shall with evil seed
In the fixed decider when the ethereal one watches
Whose warnings participants must heed.
Many shall watch the rise and fall
Of the tested one and the lost
No end but beginnings forced to occur for all
For those named and enlisted.
For the third that is half of the first
Many are watching to support
And the half soul must aid her own
In wait for aid from the waiting not of earth.
A struggling battle with the recent past shall follow
With the eight in wait
To step in from the shadows
But is the test is won and fate changed?
Open window.
See, it makes little sense," Dartemis finishes. "Especially the end note of 'Open window',"
"If you encounter a locked door, try the window," Lorian comments.
Dartemis raised one eyebrow. "Where did that little pearl of wisdom come from?"
"Just something a healer told me," he replies. "I think it may be telling us there is more than one path to take. That or if you can't find a path then make your own." He clears his throat. "Anyway, we are out of time. Continue to train as much as possible. We meet again tomorrow night when the rift storm has blown over."
He waves his hands and the transportation feeling kicks in. I only have time for one thought before I lose consciousness.
What's a rift storm?
AN: It's taken my ages to finish writing this chapter! Jimothy came to sit on Dartemis' entrance then on the prophecy, which I know is kinda bad. Sorry about the dullness of this chapter but I had to put it in for the action to start in the next chapter.
For anyone who thinks they get what the prophecy was predicting, I will give a virtual cookie for every person guessed correctly and every line worked out correctly.
Thanks to all those who have reviewed the last chapters and those who review this chapter!
Please review! :-p
P.S. Reviews inspire me to update quicker! ;-D