From Wistrix Donn

A Revelation

    Noetic awoke. A zephyr stirred the leaves of the aspen stand in which he camped. Although the sun could not yet be seen, the gray of the lingering night was quickly giving way to the light of the morning. Behind him, he could hear the rush of a strong mountain stream, an eternal and ever-changing orchestra of water tumbling over and churning around rocks, crashing over fallen logs, bubbling and foaming along the current. Beyond his vision, he sensed something in the forest.
    Concerned and curious, Noetic allowed his gaze to wander. Ever since his departure from the Synn-Oll-Tydell, he had felt ill at ease. He detected movement, but the figure slipped away. He saw nothing for a time and questioned his imagination. Then he glimpsed a shadow whispering through the trees, a graceful silhouette meandering through the half-light of dawn. It moved fluidly, blending to oneness with the trees. Again, it disappeared.
    A moment later, he heard a rustle on his left. He turned. The bright green wall of leafy shrubs parted willingly and the shadow stepped through. Her graceful figure stood tall and lithe, instantly revealing to those with ancient knowledge she was one of the Eldresse. Although taller than a normal man and incredibly slender, she moved with such fluidity and coordination that her walk looked more like a gliding dance.
    Her face was one barely out of youth. The glowing, beautifully smooth complexion of her cheeks complimented her small red mouth and penetrating olive-green eyes. Parting her full lips slightly, as if she were about to speak, she lowered her head and cocked it slightly to one side, all the while keeping her eyes locked on Noetic.
    This is impossible. Noetic stood staring, powerless to look away. A puff of west wind temporarily blew the wavy locks—richly golden in color—away from her neck and shoulders. Her golden dress had an unobtrusive radiance similar to the complexion of her skin. The small flowers and vine-like tendrils printed on the gown made her appear as a goddess of spring. A sheer scarf of dark red draped over her right shoulder and attached to the string of thin red beads that hung loosely about her mid-section. Her right hand held a small clump of red flowers, still wet from the morning’s dew. Her feet were bare.
    The lives of men have passed and still her beauty is unchanged. The memories that her presence invoked left Noetic stunned. This was how it had been when she first appeared to him all those many, many years ago. She had floated out of these same woods in the Kutrok Mountains. Discovering her had been a magical experience; but it was that way for everyone the first time they saw Ontic. Not only was she immeasurably beautiful, but she carried a presence of a higher power, something inexplicably special.
    Noetic rose from the ground and took several steps towards her before slowing to a stop. He reached for her face, but hesitated to make contact. Memories of their last meeting returned to him. His hand dropped back to his side.
    She studied him as he looked distrustfully at her. Like herself, Noetic’s build was taller than a normal man’s and also thinner. His slender appearance in no way though gave the impression of weakness. He had sculpted features and his eyes were bright blue. He would be a model of beauty and perfection, were it not for the deep purple scars that ran from his palms all the way up his arms. Though clothed as a beggar, he moved as one wielding unspoken authority. She loved and admired him; she always had. And now, she feared for him.
    Noetic sank to his knees and closed his eyes. Has this search ended? On his cheeks he felt two soft, warm hands. Oh, why did you go? Why did you leave? Energy flowed through her hands. She gave no answer, but he could feel his pain had been shared. When he opened his eyes, he was staring into her face. He stood, but could not remember ever rising.
     “The dreams¼,” Noetic said. Dreams¼the word echoed through her mind like a multiplying curse. She silently nodded. Noetic knew what would happen next. He felt cold. “Watch,” she quietly requested.
    Ontic closed her eyes in concentration and raised her right hand in front of her. It flared white-hot. The light’s intensity grew, enveloping her hand in a swirling mass of radiance. The brilliant mass took the form of a sphere. Slowly, this perfectly shaped globe of energy descended by a golden chain from her hand. When it reached the level of her waist, the bright light dissipated and left behind a sphere of the clearest glass. Ontic’s once colorful eyes became orbs of colorless crystal, blind while she displayed the sights of her dream to Noetic.
    As the ball began to swim with color, Noetic lost himself in the vision. He stood mesmerized as the images assaulted him. On high, Noetic saw a vast panoramic sweep covering the whole of the eastern continent, the Vostok. From his place in the sky, he looked down at the southern tip of the continent. Here he saw small mountains with strangely shaped pine trees and exotic animals. Crawling across its surface were humans somewhat smaller than those of the Mitkar with their black hair and slanted, coal-colored eyes. West, across the turquoise waters, stood the mountainous island of Apsu. From the largest mountain of the island, thick smoke wafted heavenward. North, lay the calm port city of Nirva, capital of Illyan. No walls surrounded this sprawling city, where the urban gently melted into the rural. The setting sun cast shades of red and orange sparkling across the waves. Noetic heard the sharp cry of gulls and found new sights appearing. He was being carried northeast, right through the center of the sildin lands. Terrain of all sorts flew before his eyes: pine-covered mountains, streams and pools shaded by hardwoods, rolling plains covered with crops and herds. Eventually he came to the Plinys. The mountains stood rugged and majestic. Blue flowers, cascading waterfalls, cold lakes, dark caves, broken rock, brown bears, and white snow—in the heart of it all the secret city of Bailsa, teaming with a mixed race of sildins.
    Moving on, Noetic passed over the Wriving Jungle through which ran the great Chitwa River. In the untamed tangle of hoary trees, draping vines, and clinging moss, he could see the Peks. Although small in stature, they were both fierce and cunning, ghosts in the Wriving Jungle. Within the darkness they performed strange rituals to appease even stranger gods.
    Looking ahead, Noetic saw gargantuan mountains in the distance. Closer and closer he came, and larger yet they loomed. Halfway up these giant slopes, the trees stopped growing and the naked mountaintops appeared as angular, jagged teeth biting into the sky. The peaks were unseen because of cloud cover. Rising through the wet vapor, Noetic came clear of the gray world beneath and entered a world of dazzling light. Eyes adjusted, Noetic saw an ocean of thick, swirling clouds surrounding the mountain, lapping up against its steep sides. Not many miles away, the sun reflected off the tops of the tallest mountains that loomed up like a chain of volcanic islands floating in the midst of a pink, rolling sea. Further still, the clouds flowed on and on until they met the horizon where a distant mountain range acted as the coastline of the vaporous ocean.
    Descending back through the clouds, Noetic could see the black trolls of Ochfin. They were slightly shorter than ordinary men, but exponentially thicker, with arms hanging to their knees, short squatty bowlegs, low foreheads, and wrinkled brows. Bulky, intensely muscled, coordinated, and quick were the people of this race.
    Then the vision drifted due west. Seeing a black smoky haze on the horizon, Noetic understood that the land of the damned lay ahead. Fear caught in his throat. Here in Nithera, the Creator had met the Destroyer in a battle of uncertain outcomes. Noetic winced at the pain of his memories. He could see nothing more until the vision moved on.
    Traveling south, he came to the land of the Ehrda-Lute. Mountains and valleys were densely populated by the dark swarming masses of dwarves. Large well-fortified cities dotted the landscape. In them lived the dwarves and their slaves. From the city walls, hung the carcasses of their enemies.
    Memories throbbed deep in Noetic—lives lived; people who once were, now forever gone, faded with time and disappeared; victories accomplished and opportunities missed; smiles of old friends and the hate of an enemy’s eyes; hope and disappointment; memories bittersweet. He looked on the land and everywhere he saw landmarks that triggered his memory.
    A rush of wind swept him back into the heart of the Vostok. Noetic looked over the pastoral countryside. In a tree-lined field of tall grass, there lay a grotesque worm about the size of his fist. Out of the woods lumbered two starved-looking wild boars. The animals rooted in the ground, searching for food. One of them ate the worm.
    Next, Noetic spied what at first seemed to be a bird circling high overhead. Winging its way toward the earth, its spectacular colors became apparent. The beast was a two-headed wyvern. Thick scales covered its body. The long thick tail ended in a sizable spike and black claws protruded from the toes. They wyvern dove for the prey, hurtling earthward like a red bolt of lightning. Hooked claws quickly stole the life of the first boar, and a moment later a bite to the neck killed the other. The wyvern then devoured both boars.
    Time passed. Noetic saw the sun move across the sky. From the north an emerald dragon came screaming across the sky. This was one of the great ancient dragons, a true dragon, a fire-breather with four legs, sweeping wings, and wide flaring nostrils. The comparatively small two-headed wyvern never saw it. For a brief moment, the wyvern writhed as it suffered within the flames shot from the green dragon’s nostrils. In the next second, the green dragon whipped its pythonic tale and smashed the life from the wyvern. After swallowing the wyvern, the dragon lay in the field.
    Out came the moon and stars. The dragon grew violently ill. It thrashed about for a few minutes, then died. A small red sore formed on the dragon’s side. Blood began trickling from it. As the sore grew, it bled more profusely. The sore swelled larger and larger until it popped. Then the worm crawled forth from the side of the dragon.
    Standing on end, the worm began to spin. As it spun, it grew, blurred, and became a man. His face had a pleasant appearance, like that of an old friend who is recognized, but cannot be named.
    The man inhaled the dragon. Noetic stared in disbelief as he saw all of the Vostok being funneled and sucked into the being. Then, only the man remained. The Vostok had been consumed.
    Colors began to bleed and swim. Light flared in the sphere, then it ascended up the golden chain and disappeared back into Ontic’s hand. She had shown Noetic her vision, and now he understood her fear. Part of it at least. For Noetic, she had displayed only a piece of the dream. What still remained untold, she feared the most.