The Second Dragdani Prophecy
Part 1 of the Dragdani prophecies
Written By
RoyalSpartan125
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For my mum
and dad, who
gave me life, love and an
understanding of the
world, and for believing.
And to my Eldest niece who helped me
edit and prepare this book.
Thank you all.
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Prologue
The days of Lord Salith, Dark Wizard and master of Dempmage and the dark lands therein, are long over.
Said to be the most powerful Wizard ever to walk the lands of the long forgotten world of Dorminya (pronounced Dormanya). The Dark Lord’s downfall came at the hands of the Wizard-Elf, King Dragdani (son of the first-born Wizard-Elf Thoucil), of the lands of Opredanas.
Salith’s ruin came just in time to save Dorminya from falling into eternal darkness, though he has an heir, a daughter who is herself a Wizard-Elf but only because her father made her so. He wanted her to have what he himself had searched most of his life for, immortality.
When the Dark Lord’s end finally came, it was believed by all that she would take his place; however, she had secretly longed to be free and had no intention of taking over the regime that her father had spent so long building and securing. Her refusal only brought around a chance for Salith’s apprentice to take his place. Also a Wizard-Elf, Lord Ulicoth took the throne of Dempmage all too willingly, and sought to destroy the Order of Lanisic once and for all. He succeeded in destroying King Dragdani, though failed in ending the Order itself. It survived and thrived, if only for the reason that Ulicoth fell prey to the last spell that Dragdani cast before his untimely death. The curse was designed especially for the Dark Lord, and as soon as it hit him, he was severely weakened and stripped of most of his powers.
Since, his powers have slowly returned, so he is now as powerful as an ordinary Wizard, but he has and will continue to look for a way to bring himself back to full strength. In addition, he has been patiently waiting for the day of the Second Prophecy, which was written by none other than Dragdani. It is said that on that day, Lord Ulicoth will face his own destruction. Still Ulicoth would do anything – anything – to stop this day of his ruin from coming to pass.
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Chapter One
The Fifth Wizard-Elf
It was the first of July and a normal morning on Weston Road, which was the cleanest and newest street in the neighbourhood, with its patches of beautiful green grass between the footpaths and the road. These patches of grass had small flowerbeds planted right in the middle of them. Some had small thin trees; with round black metal fences guarding the tree trunks. The entire street was extremely tidy and very well-kept.
The sun had risen and was shining brightly; it was the start of a warm day in the street.
At the middle of Weston Road, on the right side, there was a big cream-colored house that was two floors high, and one could say, spacious.
It was 10:00 am on a Tuesday morning, and at this time; the radio alarm on the bedside cabinet in the master bedroom of number eight Weston Road sounded. The man that lay on the left side of the King-sized bed let out a short groan of discomfort as he hit the clock several times trying to hit the off button. When he finally accomplished this, he rolled back over and instantly fell back to sleep. His wife, on the other hand, jumped out of bed and stood there in her red silk pyjamas and had a long stretch. “It’s time to get up, sleepy head,” she said as a yawn caught her.
“Just another hour or two.” said her drowsy husband’s voice.
“Don’t be so lazy,” she said cheerily.
But the man did not answer; he had fallen back into a deep sleep.
The woman walked to the bottom of the bed, took hold of the bedclothes and pulled them clean off. Then she crawled onto her side of the bed. She could still feel a little warmth were she once lay and felt a small desire to lie down again and join her husband. However, she leant over and put her hands on her husband’s side then pushed with all her might and rolled him off the bed and onto the floor. He landed with a dull thud and before jumping up.
John Stark exclaimed, “What the heck was that for?”
“For being so lazy,” said Helen Stark as she started to laugh.
“Is that right?” John did not sound the slightest bit amused. This only made his wife laugh more. He got up, went into the bathroom and locked the door.
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“What are you doing?” Helen asked.
“I’m about to take a shower,” answered John.
“You know I like to use the bathroom first in the morning, because every time you go in it stinks afterwards.”
“Go use one of the other bathrooms.” he said crankily.
“If that’s the way you want it fine, I’ll use one of the other bathrooms,” she said as she laughed quietly to herself.
A short while later John came down the stairs, headed for the kitchen and started to make breakfast. It seemed that he was now in a better mood, which was probably a good thing, as not long after that Helen, wearing a red hoodie and black tracksuit bottoms, came down the stairs. She could smell the eggs and bacon that John had made and as she got closer, she could hear the sizzling of the frying pan as he put it in the sink and turned on the hot tap to cool it a little so it wouldn’t spit at him when he switched to the cold.
She went into the kitchen, which comprised of a cooker near the far corner and benches running round the wall, with a sink in front of the wide window facing Helen. There were also cupboards overhead on the walls running the distance of the breakfast bar. There were cupboards running opposite closer to the floor, and between them and the breakfast bar there were also drawers. A tall cupboard sat at the end, which housed their dinner and lunch plates, glasses and cups. After seeing all those familiar things, Helen also saw that John was not there, so she turned her gaze to the dining table, and there he was waiting for her to join him. She sat down and looked at him. He was wearing a grey T-shirt, blue jeans, and his hair as always in the morning was messy. She found herself trying to determine if he was still angry.
“I take it that you’re not cross with me anymore John?” she said.
“Cross with you?” John asked blankly. “Why would I be cross? I was just being lazy.”
Helen grew suspicious. He must have found a way to get back at me, she thought. She looked about trying to see anything that he might have done, but there was nothing. “You’re up to something,” she told him.
“I’m not up to anything,” said John. “I’m not as immature as you.”
Well, he was being a little lazy, she thought. Maybe he’s seeing things from my point of view. Remembering what she did brought a smile to her face again. Then she picked up a piece of the toast from the plate in front of her. She was about to put it to her lips when she just happen to look down at it, and when she did she saw a small spider humbly standing on it looking right back at her. She froze on her seat. This immobility changed as the eight-legged creature suddenly grew to at least three times its original size. Helen screamed and threw the toast onto the table. To her surprise, the spider vanished in an instant.
Helen is terrified of spiders, and John knew it. She looked over at him. He had one hand over his mouth, obviously trying to stop himself from laughing. In his other hand was a wand.
“Not as immature as me?” asked Helen.
John laughed aloud. “Now we’re even.”
“Fine. Just so you know mine was better. I didn’t cheat.”
“Using magic isn’t cheating where I come from. Besides, you wouldn’t say that if you had seen your face.” John laughed again.
Helen said nothing. She just stared at the clock on the wall that sat to the left of the window, which said that it was now 10:38 am.
As always they were acting like children but soon calmed down and sat comfortably at their dining table. They sat facing one another. John was reading the newspaper with his back to the dining room window, and Helen was staring out of it, watching the white puffy clouds as they calmly blew past.
Suddenly, smoke began to rise up from the floor, but it did not spread around the room. It twirled and twisted into a thick, man-sized column. Helen sat staring over John’s right shoulder.
“What’s wrong, Helen?” inquired her curious husband. She didn’t answer. She just kept staring.
Then there was a whooshing sound and John knew it, although he had not heard it in seven years.
A tall shadow began to form in the smoke.
John had just begun to turn his head to look and see if he was right in his assumption, when he heard the voice of a man, and that, too, sounded very familiar.
“What very strange dwellings these Normals have,” said the man as the smoke cleared.
John was less than happy to see an old Wizard standing there.
The Wizard stood tall with a rough build and a white beard that was at least six inches long. His face was very thin, and he had sharp cheekbones. His nose looked a little too long, for his face was quite thin, with the left nostril being smaller than the right, as though his nose had been broken and had not been set properly. On it, a thin scar ran from the top right side to the bottom left side. His mouth was wide and his lips were thin. He had large hands and long fingers, and he was wearing turquoise robes and an indigo belt. And over the robes, he wore a dark blue cloak with a hood. The hood covered the top part of his face. John and Helen could only see his nose, mouth and beard, but John knew who it was.
“Delsani!” said John, unmoved with the appearance of his old friend and mentor.
“Indeed,” answered the Wizard, and he removed his hood from his head. His beard made him look old and worn. He looked kind but worried, and his eyes were dark, just dark.
“What are you doing here?” asked John crossly.
“Are you feeling so hurt that you can’t welcome an old friend into your home?” asked the old Wizard.
“Friend” John sounded very hurt. “Ha, that’s funny. I thought a friend would visit before the end of seven years.”
“To you seven years and for the rest of us it has been fourteen. I am sorry about that, John, but those of us who still consider you a friend thought it was better that you didn’t see or hear from us, in case it would stir up bad memories or make you home sick,” said Delsani.
“Not having any of you visit when the dust settled made it worse.”
“I think I know what you mean.”
“No, I don’t think you do,” said John coldly. “So how are they?” he asked, not being able to hide his interest in those he had known for most of his life.
Delsani, knowing exactly what his old friend meant, said, “I’m sorry to say that we’ve lost two, but the others are fine, and they have missed you terribly, Jastark, as I have.”
“Who did we lose?” asked John, now sounding deeply concerned.
“All will be explained later, I promise you that, my friend,” Delsani replied.
John nodded as old memories flashed into his mind. He found himself wondering who the two were, but tried to think no more of it at that time.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us, John?” asked Helen assertively.
“Yes, of course. Delsani, this is my wife, Helen, the woman who was kind enough to take me in out of the cold.’ John’s sense of humour was starting to resurface.
Delsani nodded at Helen.
Then John turned his head to look at her and said, “Helen, this is Delsani, one of my oldest and most trusted friends.”
Helen moved forward and shook the old Wizard’s hand. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” the Wizard replied. He turned to John again. “I regret to tell you that I didn’t come for a friendly visit. I’m here on Council business. I’ve come to tell you something very important,” said Delsani cheerlessly.
“What is it?” asked John, his humour fading again at the mention of the Council.
“I’m not sure if we can talk about it here. If he has the slightest idea of what we are trying to do, his spies may be close, and that means we can’t stay for very long,” replied Delsani. “You must come back with me.”
“Go back? I can’t. I won’t! Especially not for those who call me friend and forget that I even exist,’ John sulked. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“Haven’t you heard a word I‘ve said?” Delsani replied harshly.
“Yes, I’ve heard every word, but you must understand that I have a life here, and I’m not just going to leave it until you give me a darn good reason. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“Very well, you leave me no choice. What I have to say is about the Dragdani Prophecies, so please listen carefully. This has been kept secret for over six hundred years and for a very good reason. I will only tell you if you’re sure that you’re willing to hear it. Once you do. There is no turning back.”
“Tell me. I’m willing, whatever it is.”
The old Wizard nodded slowly and said, “John, you are the only living descendent of King Dragdani, who wrote the two prophecies.”
John opened his mouth as if to speak but no sound passed his lips. He felt as if his heart had suddenly jumped into his throat. In fact, this news surprised him so much that it took him a few seconds to come around again.
For it is believed by most (but certainly not all) Wizards and Witches that Dragdani was one of the wisest and most powerful Kings in all of history.