Stormchild: Emeline and the Forest Mage

37 Vow

Erdil

    Emeline grabbed her crossed legs with both hands, leaning back. 'So what you're saying is this is all about a book?'

    'Well...' the Mage shrugged his shoulders, his legs crossed on the dusty wooden floor of the shack. 'In a manner of speaking, yes, but in another sense, not at all.'

    Wow, Mages were confusing. Emeline scratched her head and frowned, tilting her chin to the side. 'What do you mean?'

    The Mage took his time answering, looking out the window behind Emeline, and she sighed. Where were Avétk and uhm... Färin? Hadn't it been too long for a guide trip down the road? Oh, and poor Brushä with the young eyes, had he got out of the mess he and that Dark Woman had made?

    'It is not all about the book, but what is written in the book sums up all that it's about.' The Mage smiled and his pearly whites gleamed in a beam of the afternoon light pouring over her like liquid gold. 'Do you understand, girl child?'

    'Why do you keep calling me that?' Emeline's frown deepened and the Mage's smile endured.

    'It is who you are,' he said, 'the meisiekind from the prophecy.'

    That's what Avétk had said too, but it wasn't possible. She was from a dull northern farm, a plain girl, though she did have many dreams, even she had to admit. Was it possible that she was the girl child from the prophecy? Maybe if she actually knew what the prophecy said, she could figure it out.

    'Can you tell me what the prophecy says?'

    The Mage nodded once and squinted his eyes as if he was looking through a tunnel into a faraway land. 'In die vyfde tyd van ʼn derde tyd sal die meisiekind van drome weer kom. (In the fifth time of a third time the girl child of dreams will come again.)' The Mage's voice sounded echoing and distant, like a thunderstorm rolling in from the east on the horizon. The fifth time of a third time. That sounded strange, what did it mean?

    'Die Vaders dra haar op, die Götteril volg haar, die Erdil benodig haar. Sy bring in die eerste tyd van die vierde tyd. (The Fathers carry her, Götteril follows her, Erdil needs her. She brings the first time of a fourth time.)'

    Bringing in a new age, that sounded familiar too. Who'd told her about that? Had it been Avétk? Maybe the first bit meant the fifth part of the third age. It sounded right, but she wondered what the fifth part would be?

    'Sy vernietig die bose donker met die Vaders se asem. Sy verteenwoordig die mensdom en tog is sy gebreek. (She destroys the wicked darkness with the Father's breath. She represents humankind and she is broken.)' The Mage looked into Emeline's eyes, and her heart squeezed with emotion too deep for her to deal with.

    Was it loss? Fear? Anguish? Guilt? Was it... that? Her hands trembled and she clasped them together on her lap. No, she could never think it. Never.

    'Die Vaders sal haar nie laat sterf nie (the Fathers will not allow her to perish),' the Mage said, and despite her best efforts a tear slipped past her guard. The Fathers were with her; she wasn't alone. The hot tear trailed down one cheek and the searing pain burned in her chest, whatever it was.

    With a sigh, the Mage stood and groaned with the effort.

    The hooded woman's eyes were on her, she could feel it. With a quick swish of hand, she wiped the tear away and glanced behind her back. The woman sat against the wall all dark and mysterious. Who was she, and why was she with the Mage? Emeline bit the corner of her lip, and turned back to the Mage who held his hand out to help her up.