Maker of Prophecies
Hear us Now, Hear our Pleads.
Hear us Dragonets, Hear our Cries.
You have Vowed to Save us, Save us Now.
There is more Threat to Come.
Please hear our Voices.
He was there again, for the fourth time that week, and once again, he had his head lowered, standing in a half circle before seven other dragons. The room was lit with dim red light; that single light could barely help him see himself, and the dragons sitting above him. He did not see their expressions, but knew they were glaring down at him, as they always did, and always have. He just knew this meeting would be a disappointment, and let down the dragons once more with his ideas of safety. This usually happened once every month, but these days, the meetings seemed to happen much more frequently . . . ever since that dragon appeared ten years ago.
The Head Counselor looked down at the dragon below him, and said: "What do you have to present to us today, Hansen?"
"Another plan to solve our problems you see, as you have wanted me to-"
"Keep your head lowered to show respect, boy - we grow tired of your impertinence."
Hansen growled under his breath. "As I was saying, Your Allegiance, once again I have come up with another solution to solving our problems."
"Is it more useful than the previous attempts you have shown us in the past?"
"That is what I am hoping for." Hansen flipped through the pages he had brought, and held a few to his face. "Due to the lack of soldiers on the battleline, and due to them being subdued to the Plant, I propose-"
"Speak louder, boy."
Hansen scowled under the light so no one could see. "The Plant has possessed almost all of our men, and there is very little of us to even fight back - the enemy crawls in every shadow we see. I suggest that we use our newfound ability to control fire, and poison the enemy from the inside, saving our ally, and killing the enemy. When the Plant is dead, all we need to do is find a way to defeat the enemy."
Silence followed after his statement, and Hansen could faintly hear the Council whispering to one another, discussing the matter. He hoped they would listen to him this time, and not discard his idea of victory so quickly.
The whispers seemed to go on forever, then finally the Head Counselor announced: "We do not approve of your tactics of looking forward in your plan, Hansen, and we do not approve of your idea either."
Again . . . of course, Hansen snarled in thought. "And why is that, Your Allegiance?"
"Reason is due to the fact that fire is included. As you already know, the fumes from the Plant spreads throughout the air, so others can consume it, which in turn flames only produce it faster. Not to mention the fact that there could be flaws to burning the Plant from the inside of the victim - it could grow larger, turning the victim into a plant itself, and continue to spread its evil throughout our home. And what about the Stalker? What if he interferes? He sees all, knows all, and can sense Animus Magic. We cannot take a risk such as that, for it is too crucial for our safety. Now go, continue your research, and return when we summon you, hopefully for the final time."
" . . . I understand, Your Allegiance."
Hansen turned and left with his papers under his arm, looking at the ground as he walked out the door. Silence filled the hallway, but he kept imagining the screams of pain and the war cries from outside, happening from miles away, along with blood spilling, all because of the Stalker. His reign on this planet and others happened right when he hatched, and even though he was carried by his mother when the attack took place, Hansen still remembered that day as if it happened only a few seconds ago. No one saw the Stalker coming - he came out of nowhere. A lot of dragons say he came from earth miles and miles away from their planet, and has already taken over many other solar systems.
He wished he could do something, he always had, which is why he joined the Council. He was somewhat of a planner, another member of the army, trying to come up with an idea as to what they could do to triumph over the Stalker. . . . Everyday he still felt like a regular SpaceWing, not doing anything to save everyone, or help anyone . . . the same way he couldn't help his parents . . . .
In a fit of rage, Hansen threw the papers to the wall as hard as he could when no one was looking, then proceeded to kick the wall three times. He stopped, staring down at the floor. He closed his eyes, and recited the routine he used to calm himself down.
"You know, that was the first time I've seen you throw a fit like that in a long while. The last time I did see you throw your little tantrums was when you were only starting to fly."
Hansen jerked his head to the left, and saw a dragon a foot taller than him standing in the hallway, wearing metal armor around her torso, and sheathed on her back was a spear.
He walked towards her. "I thought you were supposed to be stationed at the entrance."
"Who's stopping me from going home?"
Hansen rolled his eyes, then embraced his sister. "How are you doing, Galassia?"
"Better than yesterday, Hansen."
They started walking down the hallway. "What happened yesterday?"
"Some dragons were trying to get past the gate. They weren't enemy, just some dragonets pulling a prank."
"How could anyone pull a joke like that in these times?"
"Someone who thinks there is no more hope in the world."
They walked a few more paces, soon entering the cafeteria, where they sat down at a table, surprising their friend, who jumped and looked up at them.
"Hello Orion," Hansen said, "how did your research go today?"
"Hansen, Galassia," said Orion, "I didn't see you there."
"You don't see anyone there," said Galassia, "that's why I always tell you to be aware of your surroundings."
"I'm not young anymore."
"Then why do you act like you are?"
"Shut up."
The two siblings chuckled.
"So, Orion," said Hansen, "any luck with your research?"
"I haven't even come close to further study," Orion replied, "because the dragon who is supposed to deliver it has not sent the sample to me. At least, it took him about two weeks to do so."
The SpaceWing reached into his pack. Slowly, he pulled out a jar. Hansen and Galassia gasped, and their eyes went wide at what they were staring at. In the jar was a piece of the Plant. It was only a single vine cut off from a larger body, but Hansen could practically smell the evil inside of it.
"This is the sample," Orion said. "It's dead, but, all I need to do is find out where it came from, and how to destroy it without using fire, or any other tool that may set it aflame."
"You go to the root, right?" Galassia said.
"Yes, but the root is in the Stalker's heart, and I want to learn more about its origin. It seems to be vulnerable to sunlight for some reason that I do not know why."
"Maybe it's some kind of nocturnal plant, and it needs a cold atmosphere to survive," suggested Hansen.
"That could be true - there are plants out there which use that kind of energy. Speaking of which, I need to write that down in my notes. What is the date?"
"Month, three; day, forty two; year, nine thousand eighty eight. The tenth year of the Stalker's reign over half the galaxy."
" . . . Yes . . . thank you, Hansen."
The three friends went back to their home that night to eat their dinner, while trying to ignore the screams of pain from miles away - it always seemed to get either closer or farther away everyday. They ate in silence that night around their table in darkness, and Hansen was the only one who looked up from their food, at his friends. He realized they all shared the same expression: Anguish. They all wished the battle would end, they prayed everyone would be safe from the Stalker, and all the unspeakable powers he possessed.
Hansen lied awake in bed that night with dark fantasies about the end of the world, that he could not come up with any idea to save it. He kept trying to come up with suggestions as to how to stop the war, except when he came to the conclusion would the plan lead to failure. All night, Hansen tried to come up with a way to save everyone, but the stress of a dark future weighed heavy on his mind, and it soon sent him into slumber.
The next morning, Hansen and his friends walked along the streets - they could not hear the screaming today. When they saw the Counselor Center ahead of them, they were bombarded by food thrown right at their faces. The three turned to see five dragons standing there, cursing at them, saying they don't do anything to help anyone, or save anyone, and that the Council will let everyone die because they do not care about them, and never have. The three SpaceWings did not blame them however, they and the Council itself hated to see the citizens suffer under the wrath of the Stalker, and craved for the war to end as much as everyone else did.
Hansen and Orion left Galassia at the gate with four other guards standing by while they went inside. Hansen decided to come with Orion to do more research on the Stalker's powers, and try to see where its origin came from. He thought that, if he could find out the origin of the Stalker's powers, then maybe he could come up with a plan on how to stop him.
This idea of his would last longer than he had anticipated. His research would continue for three weeks, and he learned only little about the enemy's great potential. Books, scrolls, Hansen had tried everything from the oldest readings, to the oldest languages which took him an entire day to transcribe.
On this day, the Council, along with the citizens had received news that the Stalker and his army had invaded the Council's secret militia, and had taken over all of their minds, turning them into the pale eyed zombies they had come to know. The SpaceWings were losing the fight, and it was only a matter of time before the Stalker infiltrates their home, and kills everyone and everything.
Hansen threw all his research papers to the wall as hard as he could, roaring as he did so. The tray smashed into two pieces, and Hansen stood glaring. They were all readings that told everything they knew about the earth, but brought him absolutely nowhere, and he was not even close to solving the problem. They were hopeless, he thought. They were all going to die. Blank eyed slaves to the Stalker, submitting to him for eternity, and they could do nothing but watch as their worlds burn and die, all by one wave of his hand.
The exhausted SpaceWing slumped into his chair, head aimed at the ceiling, frustrated and tired. He had made papers fly up into the air with his quick movements, and saw one come floating down towards him. It landed on his face. Hansen did not care for a moment, then sighed and picked up the paper. It was a very old copy of an old reading from thousands of years ago . . . back to the history of the Stalker's home.
Hansen could not remember the last time he saw a reading like this. The language was old, the paper turning yellow from age. They knew of the Stalker's origin, but not his entire history. Hansen skimmed through the paper for a while, not expecting to find any new detail . . . but it was only when he got to the middle did his lightning shaped eyes go wide.
The Stalker owned a Talisman, which in turn he used to keep all of his powers in, so he would not . . . lose his soul? On earth, there was a power that could give the owner the gift of a potential beyond belief. This power was passed down from generation to generation, dating back for thousands of years when it was first created. That was all the paper said, and the thing that made Hansen's interest increase were the pictures. Maybe the writer did not realize it, but the images themselves showed the origin of this power, where it came from, and all it had possessed throughout the years.
The first image showed the Stalker himself, holding his Talisman, putting all of his powers inside of it. Next came an image of the dragon before the Stalker, then all of the dragons who had the power before him. Along with these characters came objects, items connected to this power because the owner placed it upon them. There was one object Hansen recognized: An eye. The Eye the Stalker wore around his neck, glowing orange and casting fire throughout his body. Another object was a plant . . . the same Plant sewn around the Stalker's heart, growing on his body, which he used to possess all creatures around him. This power, this so-called 'gift' meant to be a beautiful weapon for all of the dragons that lived on earth . . . they used it against themselves . . . they used it for world conquest. It has always been there . . . it has always plagued their lifelines . . . it has always lived with them - it flowed through their blood. Except, none of them knew of its highest, and greatest potential it could reach, and now . . . it has reached a potential beyond anyone's imagination.
A future of control, a future of war, a future filled with this power, this magic which has plagued the lives of millions of dragons for thousands and thousands of years. It was this power causing them all to suffer, not just many sources of energy pieced into one. The SpaceWings had no information as to what this power is called. Thus, Hansen will name it, the Dark Cataclysm, as that is the age they are in right now, and have been ever since he hatched.
The door opened.
"Find anything today?" Orion said. He did not receive a reply. "You alright? . . . Hey, Hansen, you okay?"
" . . . It has always been there," Hansen said, not looking up from his paper. " . . . It was there ever since the beginning. It was there long before the Stalker was hatched. This power . . . this ability . . . this magic . . . ," he looked up, "that is what brought us to this point."
"What are you talking about?"
Hansen stood, walking up to his friend. "This power the Stalker possesses, and everything he wears, it's all connected to his power, and has been passed down from generation to generation for over thousands of years. The creatures who lived back then, they used the power as a tool, a weapon for their own. They all craved to have the power themselves, and would kill to have it. But they didn't know what potential it could reach. Some thought it could be used for good, others wanted it for wickedness, most wanted it to be gone, and some thought it would save them . . . but they didn't know it would lead up to this."
"Hansen, calm down, you're not making sense."
"The power the Stalker has! It did not originate from him. He was hatched with it because of his ancestors, who got it from their ancestors. They used it for their own good, they used it for their own kingdom, and they used it for war . . . and now . . . the Stalker has it all. . . . The Plant . . . the Eye . . . the Stalker possesses every single item enchanted by this power. Now he has reached its full potential . . . beyond its full potential . . . this is what that power has led to. Our death, the end of everything, the apocalypse - the Stalker rules the universe . . . and it's all because of this power." Hansen stared at his friend dead in the eyes. " . . . I need a few days to come up with a plan, but I have a small concept of what I could come up with."
"Th-That's good. But, what are you going to do? What are we supposed to do?"
Hansen's face morphed into a sadistic smile. " . . . The Forbidden, Orion . . . the Forbidden Way."
Orion's eyes could not go wider, and his fear could not be more intense. "Hansen . . . no! The Council wouldn't allow it, they would execute you for even saying it."
"They have no other option. We have no other option."
"That could destroy our entire home, and everything in the universe. You can't do it."
"I will . . . to save our kind . . . and every living creature throughout the universe. It's that . . . or the Stalker kills everything."
