Oracle

Slyfinor was gazing mindlessly into the seemingly endless sky.

He could hear someone calling his name. He could hear, but he could not; It was too complicated to explain. The bird calls from high above were like a melody drifting down to his ears, dancing about his mind; concealing it from the outside world. His boot tapped the floor to match the rhythm of the jungle song. Yes, It was an unearthly noise, it was; buzzing, crowing, hooting, and then- Yes there it was! A loud roar.

And then the music changed.

All around, the bird calls were suddenly more violent, the frogs were croaking an apocalyptic song. Monkeys hooted, swinging around the branches from tree to tree, and squirrels chittered loudly. Then the roar was loosed again, and all went silent.

Drop, Drop.

Slyfinor blinked and let go of his legs, pushing them off his chest and unwrapping his arms from his knees. He wiped a drop of water from between his nose and eye, looking down at the green, moss-covered forest floor, now wet with splattered bits of rain, descended from the heavens. He was being pushed back to earth from his own personal world; it felt like sinking into honey. He shook off the last of his thoughts, and at last, he was able to realize what was happening around him.

“…Slyfinor?... Slyfinor!”

He quickly got up as another droplet splattered across his cheek, wetting his ear and nose once more. Someone was calling. He shook off the raindrops and ran homewards, darting through trees, feeling connected to the earth as his boots sank into the moist soil and lush mosses. The subtle thump thump of the dagger around his waist thumping gently against his hip was comforting when he passed a herd of deer, running in the opposite direction of where he was going. He thought about slowing down to wonder why, but his name was called again. As he reached closer he began to hear other shouts, not only the voice calling him. There was yelling, screaming, and worst of all a woosh BOOM, that almost made him want to run in the direction of the deer. But he couldn’t. because the voice that was calling his name was starting to get harsher, and louder, and he knew keeping them waiting wouldn’t be the best idea.

At last, he arrived home, and sure enough, there was someone waiting for him. “Slyfinor!” His father called angrily, loudly enough for a few birds to be shaken out of the trees. “What- what is it father?” “It’s happened again.” His father said and, in one quick, jerky motion, he grabbed the collar of Slyfinor’s Light forest-green tunic, shoving him in the direction of the noise. “I said no wandering!” Narzac’s voice was angry, but with a hint of concern hidden in his words. He was trying to maintain his anger, Slyfinor could tell, but his cheeks were slightly pale as he looked in the direction of the danger. Slyfinor realized why as he was, too, forced to look. And, oh, how he wished he hadn’t.

A bright light flashed before his eyes as an explosion wracked the floor under him. Tall, 8 feet, it looked like from where he was standing, men were weaving through the smoke and huts as they reached out with their wicked, clawed hands to call upon the magic in their minds and use it against the villagers. Their huge, dark, beady black eyes were visible through the dark red hoods they wore, with a golden bird symbol on the front. Slyfinor took a step back, a cold shiver crawling up his spine. The hair at the nape of his neck stood on end, and he turned to Narzac as he shoved something large and furry into his chest.

It was Faolini. Faolini was a gift given to him by his mother at birth, although before he was born, she had been captured by the king’s men upon a trip to the meadow. Or so his father had told him. But Slyfinor had a feeling his mother was still alive, because he had sometimes seen a shadow dashing across the meadow, but when he turned to follow it into the clearing, all that was left was a women-sized footprint, and some rustled leaves. Slyfinor was 14 now, though, so it could be any young woman, for he knew his mother would have grown in the past 14 years. Faolini had aged too. What was once a young pup, was now a huge, growling, sharp-toothed wolf, who had, having grown up with Slyfinor, protected him for all his life.

Faolini howled loudly as another explosion went off, causing the hooded men to look over at him. “no no no… shhh…Faolini… shhhhh…” He tried to silence his yowls by covering his long snout with his hands, which only caused him to whimper loudly. But it was too late now. The hooded men were sliding towards them, not the normal paced step that people walked, but more like an unnatural levitation. His breath caught in his throat as he saw them up close. Or at least, what he could see through the fine, thick, red fabric draped loosely across their heads and shoulders. The depth in the areas under their ears that could be seen seemed to go on to no end. It was like a void in that hood. And Slyfinor wasn’t going to wait to find out what was in it.

Nor was he eager to become part of it.

And as they crept closer, his nerves got the best of him. His muscles disobeyed his tensed standing position, sending him rushing into the woods with Faolini close on his heels. “Slyfinor!” He heard Narzac screaming behind him. A shiver shot through him. In his fear, he had forgotten about his father. He screamed at himself to stop. He tried to turn around, but fear was sinking into his skin, into the very marrow of his bones and mind, taking control of him and pushing him deeper and deeper into the woods. He couldn’t turn around. He could barely breathe. And then, like a thunderclap, the roar sounded again.

Slyfinor was finally able to stop running as his legs gave way beneath him, and he fell, clutching the soft earth under his palms, panting heavily. His head whipped around, and he saw Faolini barking at him, then coming up next to him to sniff his ear. Slyfinor pushed his snout away as he got up, his heart racing like a frightened rabbit in his chest. He turned around and saw, with horror, that an explosion had gone up in front of his hut, and smokey haze covered it. Small fires had eaten up dead leaves in various places and were slowly spreading across the forest, blocking Slyfinor’s path.

There was no turning back now.

He didn’t know what to do. He was about to run around the fires to fetch his father when, through the smoke, the hooded figures appeared. Their eyes were white now, blindingly so, with feathers poking out of the bottoms of their long cloaks. There were four of them, the four who had spotted him and Faolini before. They were making an awful, skritch-skra! sound, which made Slyfinor jump nearly 10 feet in the air. He suddenly felt Faolini’s fur under his hand and sighed in relief as he realized he had someone to help him fight off the creatures.

Their cloaks were not burned by the fire in any way as they marched towards Slyfinor and Faolini, fast and unstoppable. He clutched the wolf’s fur tightly, twisting in it nervously. He heard Faolini whimper softly, so he let go, and by then the creatures were about 14 feet from them. Slyfinor grasped the diamond-studded hilt of his dagger so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He refused to die this way, away from his friends and family, away from his home and village. No, no he was going to fight back and stop these hooded cowards from destroying his home.

His dagger was halfway out of the sheath when Faolini began barking at something in another part of the woods. Slyfinor was hesitant to take his gaze off the cloaked men, but then he saw that they too had turned their heads in the direction of where Faolini was looking. So, carefully, he turned his head to see what they were looking at. Birds screeched loudly, and fog obscured the figure, but once he squinted, he finally saw.

It was the shadow-woman.

Now he was confused. She usually came when he was calm, and not thinking about anything. But when there was something on his mind, or he was deliberately looking for her, she was never there. But she was here now, and everything was about to be destroyed and that truly led him to believe-

Smash!

Chattering loudly, the creature pinned him to a tree, keeping Slyfinor's back pressed harshly against the wood that pierced through the fabric of his tunic and scraped his back. He wriggled against the creature’s grip, but alas, to no avail. It had some kind of supernatural strength. No matter how hard he tried to shove off its talons, it just could not be moved. He looked down at its arms and saw that it had black reptilian skin, like that of a crocodile; roughly scraping against his soft skin. It dug its sharp claws into his forearms and he cried out in pain, then, in desperation, stepped on its foot with the heel of his boot. It let out an awful shriek, like that of a dying bird, and loosened its grip on his arms for a moment. And at that moment, Slyfinor shoved them off, grabbed Faolini, who had been biting the ankles of the other creatures the second the first one attacked him, and darted back towards the direction of the village, where he could have more backup.

As he started towards the direction of his village, something seized his left sleeve, then yanked him around. He found himself staring into the eyes of death itself. His scream was so loud, he thought they might hear him in heaven. He resisted the grip and tried to walk backward, keeping his eyes shut. He only opened his eyes as something wet and sharp seized the back of his pants, trying to pull him in the opposite direction of the creature. “Get father, Faolini!” Faolini didn’t budge. “Go on! Get him!” The creature hissed and cackled, and Slyfinor tried once again to step on his foot, but he moved it out of the way and threw him into the ground. Then he planted one foot on Slyfinor’s chest, drawing a blade over his head.

Frantically, he looked back at Faolini, who had bitten the back of the creature’s cloak, and was swinging it around, as a crocodile might break the neck of a gazelle. Slyfinor let out a frustrated noise. “Go! Get out of here! Get father!” He yelled. Faolini’s ears pricked up. His tail drooped between his legs as he obeyed, then ran back towards their little hut, where his father was hopefully still alive.

While the curious gaze of the creature was still fixed on Faolini, Slyfinor jumped up, knocking the creature over. However, it also sent the blade flying into the air. Slyfinor jumped out of the way as the edge of the wickedly twisted blade pummeled down toward him. If I hadn’t jumped away, that would have gone straight through my skull. Slyfinor thought, horrified, although a little he felt a little bit of pride at his ability to react fast when danger came. His gaze shifted from the blade planted in the ground, to the creature, rubbing its head with claws fingers. Slyfinor lunged at it before it could get up, and grabbed the top of its hood. “Time to see what you really are.” Slyfinor said, trying to keep his voice calm and controlled. With trembling fingers, he threw off the hood. Black mist, or maybe smoke, drifted into his face in a sudden woosh, and Slyfinor jumped back. When it cleared, all that was left of the creature was a cloak. He looked at the rest of them, but they too had vanished the second the first one did. He gently lifted the hood, but there was absolutely no one inside. He was about to gather the other ones when he heard a howl. And it wasn’t just any howl.

It was Faolini’s.

Slyfinor dropped the Cloak immediately, darting back toward the direction of the howl. He waved his hand to clear the smoke around his face, examining the rest of the village. Everything was broken.

All the huts were blasted apart, and all the food had been tossed out of the gardens into the woods, where they were only charred husks laying in a bed of mosses. His head flew to his own hut, and he nearly cried out once he saw what was there. Only a ruin.

He rushed towards the wreckage, as Faolini had run to Slyfinor, and tugged him into it. He looked around and saw many of his old collected pieces of mysterious-looking branches, rainbow-colored leaves, and even his carved animals, laying all around the destroyed wood, either burnt or broken apart. And then he saw something move a little way away, thankfully outside of the wreckage, and rushed towards it. Faolini ran over to it, sniffed their hand, and came back, whining. Slyfinor pressed his knuckle to his mouth and bit down hard on it as he realized who it was. It was Narzac.

Slyfinor fell to his knees next to his father’s face, grasping his cold hand. “Father! Father!” He cried over and over, but with no reply. Narzac was covered in small scars, although there was a huge gash on his left calf, bleeding heavily. He must have been out of the house when it was blasted, although the air from it must have pushed him into broken shards of glass and metal. He turned his attention back to the hut and realized that one side was still up, although the other half had crumbled. He tried to pull Narzac back to the village, but he could not be moved. Faolini tried to help, but Slyfinor pushed him away in fear that he would only hurt his father more. And at last, when it seemed like it was all over, His father coughed. Three times he coughed before opening his autumn-orange eyes. Then his cracked lips separated as he spoke. “It’s not… too late…” He said, coughing between words from the smoke, “Take me to Zanif… She can… help….” He broke down in a fit of coughs so violent, his whole body shuddered for a moment. But Slyfinor didn’t need to hear anymore. He left Faolini to guard his father while he ran to the village for help.

~*~

Slyfinor sat by his father’s head, stroking his hair as Zanif applied paste on each of his wounds. The entire village was destroyed, even Zanif’s home, so they were forced to make a small camp a short way from the ruins so that they could return to get more supplies every now and then. Slyfinor’s father was resting on a small cot in a corner of the camp, where several people who were hurt by the explosions lay unconscious. All but his father. “You were a coward…” Narzac whispered, his eyes closing, “You ran away…” Slyfinor grabbed his hand and held it tight. “I know.” He answered in a likewise tone, “I’m so sorry. They chased me away from you and I- I tried to get back but… I was too late… I’m sorry…” His father grunted while Zanif placed a bandage around one of his forearms, where he had been pierced by a piece of metal from the wreckage. Slyfinor, too, had bandages wrapped around his arms from when the creature had pierced him. He wiped tears from his eyes before they came down, and stared at Zanif while she worked, applying different creams and poultices.

He finally got up, after a while, to eat a chunk of bread that a kind fellow was handing out, and a small bowl of nuts. He left his father for a moment to find his bow in the wreck of their home, only to find it was broken. Buying a new bow from someone in the camp, he took it to find a gaggle of geese sitting by a pond and shot one for Faolini. He took the second one back to camp, where he cooked it and cut it for him and his father. He also shared some with Zanif, thanking her for healing Narzac. “you must go now.” Zanif told Slyfinor, “Your father needs his rest.” Slyfinor hesitated, then nodded and got up. As Zanif left to sit in a small tent near the patients, Narzac grabbed Slyfinor’s arm in an iron grip. He whispered something so softly, he couldn’t hear it. He put his ear closer. “You must… leave.” Slyfinor was flustered. “W-what? Leave? To where?” He sputtered. Narzoc shook his hand harshly. “Leave.” He said again. “To the edges of Zantoria if you have to… take Faolini with you as your guardian… now go!” “Why?!” Slyfinor gasped. “They will come back… and they will come for you… You’re not safe here!” He whispered, louder.

Slyfinor argued with his father until evening. But he knew that by night, Narzac wouldn’t even be able to speak. “I can’t leave you here” Slyfinor whispered, close to tears again. “Neither can I… which is why…” He sat up a little more, “I will leave you something. A box. From me and your mother. We agreed… never to let you open it… until you were 15. Don’t even peek, boy. Swear to me. Swear to me now that you will not open it until your 15th birthday…” His father breathed heavily, his eyelids almost down. “I promise.” Slyfinor swore, “I promise I will not open the box until my 15th birthday.” “It is in the wreckage… studded with rubies around the edges and painted gold on the trim… the box is made of iron and about as big as my fists put together…I cannot get it. you must find it… then leave.” And then his eyes fluttered down, and Slyfinor gripped his hand “I promise I will, father. I will.” And then he looked into his father’s eyes for the last time. “Leave…” He said...

...and then all was still.

~*~

Upon leaving, Slyfinor grabbed a few more things, his heart heavy. He hadn't known whether or not his father would live or die, so he just didn't go back to see him at all. He thought about the talk he had with his father before leaving him. He said to go to the edges of Zantoria, and Slyfinor wasn’t about to break his oath. He brought with him one of his carvings, a carving of Faolini, which he was quite fond of, and a leather bag filled with apples he had picked from a nearby tree, and strips of dried meat from the geese he had shot. He also brought with him his bow and dagger, then went to search for the box. He had to dig till’ afternoon until he found it. He carefully lifted the box, the paint around the edges slowly fading. Burns on the top and bottom were visible, but the box was otherwise unharmed. He slipped it into a leather bag that he wore on his back, then he threw the apple pouch over his shoulder and left the only home he had ever known.

~*~

Faolini jumped about as Slyfinor grabbed the stick from his mouth “you want it? Do you want it? Get it!” Then he pulled the stick against his bow, and let it fly halfway across the field before it ended up in Faolini’s jaws. They had been traveling for only a day now, but Slyfinor’s spirits were already lifting. He could still hear the rhythm of the forest around him, the roar every once in a while. He tapped the boot against the grass, waiting for Faolini to return the stick so they could continue. When he did, the continued on, across creeks and streams, meadows and forests, until night began to fall, like a cover being pulled over the world.

He pulled out an apple from his pouch, then reached for the map he had bought from a traveling merchant with the last coins he had and spread it on a stump. He reckoned they were in the Sian’Rakai forest. He looked around. When he was younger, His father would tell him stories of magic in that forest; of griffins, dragons, phoenixes, all the mythical creatures that would go there as a refuge from the outside world. And he had to admit, when he stepped into it, he felt the magic rush into him a bit, like starlight from the sky suddenly mixing into the air he breathed. He was too tired, however, to really believe those things right then, although, had he been younger, he would have gone and searched for dragons immediately. So he yawn and stretched out across his makeshift bed, which was a blanket he wrapped around himself, and left Faolini to watch over him as his eyes closed…

~*~

Slyfinor woke up to loud roaring.

He shot up, throwing off the cover and grabbing the dagger that was next to his bed. He didn’t have enough time to unsheathe it before Faolini let out a loud bark, and Slyfinor finally looked up. He lowered the dagger somewhat as he realized what was happening. Faolini was dancing with some kind of deer with a single huge horn on its head, a horn with two tips; a small tip at the bottom that led to a bigger horn at the top. Its fur was forest green with small green-white swirls, while the horn was a dark orange. It stepped from side to side, its orange fur-tipped tail swinging about, Neighing like a horse. It didn’t seem to be attacking Faolini so much as it looked like he was simply playing with him. Slyfinor tilted his head. What was this creature-? As its horn began to glow, he realized what it was. A Kirin. Said to only come out when it sensed one was on a journey, and give them advice to help them survive.

“Faolini, stop!” Slyfinor shouted at the wolf, who stepped behind him, baring his teeth at the Kirin. The dancing deer-like creature stopped hoofing about. It lifted its head, which was about as big as two of Slyfinor’s heads, and sent out a wave of magic across the land. Then it galloped off into the endless woods. Moments later, a message came to his mind.

When you meet an enemy, thy shall be turned to a friend. Should you attack thee, you shall meet your end.

Then the presence left his mind, and he was left to wonder what that meant.

As he and Faolini wandered on in the mystical woods, Slyfinor was cautious of everyone they met. A squirrel, a flock of Phoenixes, a Chameleon; But alas, none of them became his enemy, nor friend, so he began to lose faith in the words of the Kirin. But just as he was beginning to give up, He Heard a roar.

The same roar he heard In his home, but not as loud. He ran towards the noise, then gaped at what he saw. There was a dragon.

The dragon was tangled in vines from horns to tail, and Slyfinor quickly pulled out his dagger and began cutting through them. He was cautious every time the dragon so much as moved a foot, and it was slow and hard work, as the vines were thick. Then the dragon fell, and he realized that it was only about five feet taller than him. He was a smoky grey color, and the membranes of his wings were an even lighter grey. The tip of his tail and the spikes along his spine were black, and so were his horns. The scales around his eyes and face were smaller than the huge, thick armor-like plates on his back and legs. Slyfinor beheld the creature for a moment, then, suddenly, and unexpectedly, the dragon bowed to him.

Then another presence entered Slyfinor’s mind.

My name is Oracle. You have cut me free of the vines. You have saved my life. And for that, I am in your debt. I shall keep you safe on your journey, and see to it that you are not harmed

Slyfinor was overwhelmed by the sudden information. He reached into the consciousness and told it:

Why thank you. I only meant to help a creature in need. However, your protection on this journey might be just what I need. Thank you.

The dragon hummed in response, and Slyfinor began to feel a sense of protection for this creature, that he had freed it and he should keep it as his.

And so, for long days they traveled together, and Slyfinor began to grow ever more fond of the dragon, as, after a while, he became big enough to fly. And as they soared through the clouds, it felt like Slyfinor himself was the one flying. Oracle got stronger every day, and whenever danger came, he was always there. And soon enough, came his 15th birthday.

~*~

As Slyfinor drew the box from his leather bag, he saw that the paint was now worn, and two rubies had fallen off. He hoped whatever was inside was still intact. Oracle sniffed the box.

Gems. He said. There is something inside containing gems.

And so, with trembling fingers, he grabbed the lid. Then he opened the box.

He blinked a few times as when he blew on the inside, dust flew. Inside, there was a beautiful gem-studded piece of leather. When he unfolded it, it turned out it was a saddle. An amazing saddle with gems all around the edges and a thick seat to fly in comfort.

Let us name the saddle Narzac. Oracle said.

You can’t name a saddle. Slyfinor said, although he felt a shiver go up his spine in hearing his father's name. Oracle must have plucked the information from Slyfinor's mind.

I am a dragon. I can do whatever I want. He protested, puffing smoke in Slyfinor's face.

So he laughed, as Faolini began barking as if he agreed with the dragon, and they named the saddle after his father. But he couldn't help but wonder... Did Narzac know that Slyfinor would ever have a dragon? Could he see the future? Impossible. Unless… he could. Slyfinor looked forward to having that adventure to find out. But for now, he was enjoying the saddle. He put the saddle on Oracle, and he wore it every day for the rest of their lives. They had many more adventures, and no matter what, they were always together.

Faolini, Oracle, Slyfinor, and the Memory of his father,

Which was the best gift of all.