Elias walked behind Sir Callum while the older man rode his horse. Their pace was slow due to the surrounding muddy landscape. The sun was bright in the sky and the swamp was lively with the sounds of nature. They followed a well-established path through the swamp. It had been well maintained by travelers and merchants to connect the Dawncoast with the capital and other surrounding cities. As the path twisted and turned through some of the more dense parts of the swamp it never split into multiple paths.
The path curved and the number of trees became significantly cut back. Eventually, the winding path opened up, revealing a picturesque scene. A grouping of small houses emerged on the horizon, nestled in the heart of the swamp. The grassy field surrounding them was dotted with colorful wildflowers. A gentle river meandered through the field, providing both a source of life and a natural barrier from the treacherous swamp. The sight was unexpected amid the gloomy marshland, a touch of serenity in an otherwise desolate place.
Elias and Sir Callum continued forward, their anticipation growing as they approached the village. They crossed a sturdy wooden bridge that spanned the river and soon found themselves standing amidst the charming houses. Elias’s eyes watched some of the people peeking their heads out of the houses. The Matron, a woman of similar age to Sir Callum, appeared to welcome them. Sir Callum stepped forward.
“I bring you some unfortunate news. We have travelled from Dawncoast. The fight has continued for longer than I expected but the corruption has taken hold, and the city is now overrun by monsters and other infestations.” Her once-bright eyes held a hint of sadness, which deepened as Sir Callum delivered the grim news of Dawncoast's destruction.
The Matron listened in silence; her gaze fixed on the ground as the weight of the news settled upon her shoulders. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was filled with a mixture of sorrow and resignation. "I had feared as much," she admitted, her voice carrying a sense of heavy responsibility. "Dawncoast's fate was a mirror of what could have befallen us. We have many of our coven’s members out assisting and protecting where they can. Not all have been in contact with us. Many will never return.”
“I bring this news because we will set off next for the Sword Temple. It is one of the few refuges for people in the area. What should I share with them? You are our only connection to the Seers left. Their magic was much like yours. Connected in a way,” said Sir Callum.
“Let’s step inside if you would,” said the Matron. “There are perhaps a few things to share but I must confine with a few of my sisters to confirm that nothing is left out.” She waved to one of the women out waking and the other women nodded. “She will take care of your horse Sir Callum. Come inside please.”
“We need your help,” said Elias. His voice rose but not shouting. “As part of the prophecy your teachings are needed but the hero has not been identified by the Seers. Or by anyone else with your powers.”
“Quiet,” said Sir Callum harshly. The trio entered the house. The floor was covered by woven straw mats. Shelves around the room were decorated with various herbs, crystals, and mystical artifacts.
“It is ok. Even I can't help but be concerned about the world's future,” the Matron admitted. “It is foolish not to be. The hero will be identified but I have not received the visions and signs yet. I suspect that something still has yet to occur before either I or the hero is ready to receive the call. If you will sit and wait here then I will discuss with my fellow witches.”
The Matron stepped back and exited the room allowing Elias and Sir Callum to wait in silence. Elias and Sir Callum watched the Matron disappear behind a heavy wooden door. The two of them exchanged glances and then found a spot on the straw mats to sit and wait. A side door opened, and apprentice witches joined them in waiting. The group of half dozen women found spots to sit. They wore dark robes and had sashes on their arms to indicate their rank. Elias looked them over. No one said anything.
The witches waited in meditation. Their bodies resting but their minds open. Their breathing followed a steady rhythm and synchronized with one another. Elias felt himself trying to relax his mind as well and meditate in his own way. As they waited, the apprentice witches continued their silent meditation, their eyes closed, and their faces serene. Elias observed them curiously, noting the deep connection they seemed to have with the unseen world.
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As the minutes passed, Elias couldn't help but steal glances at the mystical artifacts adorning the shelves. Crystals of various shapes and colors glistened with an otherworldly light. Herbs and plants, dried and bundled together, emitted a fragrant and soothing aroma that filled the air. Each artifact seemed to hold a piece of the coven's ancient wisdom; knowledge passed down through generations of powerful witches. Time passed slowly, and Elias couldn't help but fidget with impatience. The weight of the world rested on their shoulders, and the fate of Dawncoast and possibly all of humanity hung in the balance.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the heavy wooden door creaked open, and the Matron returned. "We've discussed the matter, and it's clear that our magic alone won't reveal the hero," she began. “Not at this time at least. We have, however, decided to perform a ritual while you are here. Perhaps it was an omen or something else, but you represent one-half of the prophecy as well. Without the sword techniques from the Sword Temple the hero’s journey and knowledge to defeat the evil and corruption once and for all won’t happen.”
“What do you need us to do while we are here?” asked Sir Callum.
“While we may not be able to find the hero currently. They do exist. What I would like to do is use this ritual to see what we can do presently to help the hero along so to speak. How the results will manifest I don’t know. The ritual, however, is best done soon. You have a Sword Temple to defend. Follow me to the ritual room.”
Elias and Sir Callum rose from their spots on the straw mats, feeling a mix of curiosity and anticipation. They followed the Matron and the apprentice witches through a labyrinth of candlelit corridors adorned with symbols and runes. The apprentice witches hurriedly prepared the new room for the ritual. A few older witches were called into the room. The air was thick with the scent of incense.
The group arrived at a chamber that was unlike any other they had seen in the coven. The room was dominated by a massive, circular stone altar, upon which various magical items were placed. Candles burned around the perimeter of the room, casting an eerie, flickering light. The air seemed charged with an electric energy that sent shivers down their spines.
The Matron gestured for Elias and Sir Callum to stand at the center of the room, facing each other. She explained, "This ritual will be a merging of your destinies, a bond between you two and the hero who is yet to be revealed. It will help guide the hero along the path they must walk. Trust in the magic, and let it flow through you."
The witches around them whispered unknowable words. Elias and Sir Callum closed their eyes and allowed the magic to envelop them. They felt a tingling sensation, like a current of energy passing between them.
The magical energy swirled around Elias and Sir Callum, connecting them in a way they couldn't fully comprehend. The Matron, her eyes closed, chanted softly, her voice rising and falling in harmony with the apprentice witches. It felt as though time itself had slowed, and the boundaries between the physical world and the mystical realm were blurred.
Then, in a sudden rush, the magic flowed back to the Matron, who stood at the head of the altar. Her eyes snapped open, and her gaze was filled with a profound understanding. She received a revelation, a glimpse of the hero's future, their struggles, and their ultimate triumph.
With a newfound purpose, the Matron turned to the nearby table and prepared a letter. The ink she used seemed to shimmer with silvery light, and the symbols she wrote were cryptic and ancient. She sealed the letter with a waxen emblem bearing the coven's insignia.
“I have seen a glimpse of the future. One of many possibilities.” The Matron handed the sealed letter to Elias, who carefully stowed it in his pouch. "Take this with you," she said. "It may prove to be the key to unlocking the hero's potential and saving our world. Bring it to the King in Elder’s Rock. We will have a horse prepared for you."
The Matron turned to Sir Callum. “Your destiny still lies in the Sword Temple. Protect and prepare.”
The surrounding apprentice witches had started to shuffle out of the room. The Matron led the pair out of the room. Elias felt the letter in his bag, a sense of importance and duty falling on him.
They were brought over to the stables where Sir Callum picked up his horse. Sir Callum turned to Elias. A hand rested on Elias’s shoulder.
“This is where we part ways but not where we will last meet. The path ahead of you is fraught with challenges, but you carry within you great knowledge of the sword and mastery like few apprentices I have ever seen. Remember your training. Trust in your instincts and the sword skills I've imparted to you. Your potential is vast, and your heart is pure. I believe the corruption will come to an end and that you at least will be there to see it. The hero though still needs to be found.”
The young apprentice took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. "I won't, Sir Callum. I'll do my best, and I'll make you proud."
Sir Callum stepped back and got on his horse. Elias took a few more steps back. Sir Callum readied to go. His bags were strapped to his horse and newly refilled. The sword master rode down the pathway and toward his destination.
“Here is your horse,” said a witch. She approached Elias with a smile and the horse at the reigns. “His name is Thunderstruck.”