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Catalyst(37)

By:Marc Johnson


“Krystal,” I whisper.

The darkness crushes the fire’s light. The flame fights, burning as brightly as it can, but it’s no match for the darkness. The princess's face disappears. The fire changes, burning with dark flames. It contains hulking, ferocious monsters. They're drenched in blood, with bodies strewn around them. Innocent people run through the smoke, screaming to get away, but they're cut down by the creatures. I close my hand to get rid of the images, and the fire burns my skin.

I can't shake it off. When I move, it sears my unburned skin. I hold it still, fearful of the pain. It forces me to watch murders and mutilations, death and destruction. My anger increases with every child chopped down. I'm powerless to stop it.

Those images vanish, changing into a small figure cloaked in black robes. The fire in my hand no longer burns with warmth, instead turning as icy as death. A small flame splits off from the larger one. Two purple eyes stare from the small flame to the darker flame. The bigger fire swirls around her until it douses her.

“Krystal!” I shout.

The ink-black flames turn towards me. Two icy eyes peer back at me.

I woke up to find my cheek buried in the snow. I peeled myself from the ground and wiped the frost from my cheek. There was red on my fingertips. Blood—leaking from my nose. I forced myself to stand, head pounding.

I stared into the darkness, towards Alexandria. My bones ached with dread. The princess was in trouble, but I wasn't sure how or why. If Alexandria had fallen, we surely would have heard about it, even cooped up in the White Mountain. Wouldn’t we?

I thought about leaving the mountain to see if everything was all right, but what could I do to help the princess and her kingdom? I wasn’t combat ready. I needed to finish my studies. I tried to dismiss what I’d seen as an unhealthy obsession with that beautiful girl, but as soon as I did, the pain in my head returned and the images from my visions flooded my mind. I collapsed to my knees, blood from my nose splashing across the snow in front of me. I cried out in agony, clutching the snow. What was wrong with me?

I crawled towards the cave entrance. Each time I tried to get up, the pain shoved me back down into the snow. It wasn't until I let the visions flood my mind once more, and thought of going to the princess, that my jumbled mind became clear. The pain disappeared. I breathed easier. The agony was replaced by a moment of perfect clarity. I knew what to do. The vision was a sign.

I had to trust it. I had to leave.

Where I came from didn't matter. Who I was didn't matter. I was going to help the princess if she needed my help. I prayed to the gods I was wrong, and that my fears were for naught.

I went back to the warm comfort of the caverns, making my way to the little dining hall to tell Master Stradus. I took my time, because as much as I had longed to leave, I was going to miss the place. Assuming Master Stradus would let me leave. With his obsession about the prophecy he had never explained to me, he might not.

As I walked through the huge tunnel, memories raced through my mind. I remembered when I first met and ran from Cynder, times we’d played hide and seek, and when he took me for a ride on his scaly back. He liked to sprint through the tunnels, making me clasp onto his scales lest I go flying off. I learned to always hang onto him, even when he walked slowly, because he’d suddenly speed up again, sending me to the ground with a thump. And the sensation of soaring over the earth while he flew like a giant eagle was something I would never forget. I would never have dreamed that the vicious White Mountain that I knew had killed so many would become a home to me. A dragon and a wizard were strange company, but they had become family.

When I arrived at the entrance to the dining hall, I saw the web’s invisible strands and smirked. I could easily undo it with a touch of my power. How things had changed in the past three years. I walked in and found Master Stradus busy fixing dinner. My thoughts went back to the first meal I ever had with him, learning about the path I was to walk, but we each make our own decisions in life. He had even told me this in his wizardly way.

“Hello, my son,” Master Stradus said as he leaned over the black pot and inhaled the stew’s aroma. “Dinner will be ready in a second. Pull up a seat while I make you a bowl.”

I took the stool beside him and waited for my food. Normally, there'd be some kind of conversation during the meal, unless I was extremely hungry. This time I was quiet. I was the baby eagle. The need to leave was a gut feeling, boiling inside of me. The problem was, I wasn’t sure if I had completed enough training for what might be in store for me. If I didn’t know enough, I could be killed—or people could get hurt.