The Lost Princess

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Dream's Meaning

Eramire sat once more at the round table in the glittering Hall of the Mallospen. It had been three days since the first meeting, when she had shared her dream with everyone. She was hoping to convince them today of the urgency to dethrone Goroth.

Luric stood as usual and called for the meeting to begin. "We have reconvened to discuss what happened at our last meeting."

An uneasy muttering broke out, and Eramire could see that some of the council members were still shaken up by the experience—especially the members from Calapheran. Their images seemed foggy and dim. The elf twins from her home, Zanyor and Walben, seemed to be having the most trouble connecting to the mallospen. They were the youngest in the council. Both had brown hair and green eyes; the only way to tell them apart was that Zanyor bore marks of the plague while his brother did not.

"We must decide what course of action to take, since we have now all experienced the dream in its entirety," Luric continued. He looked around expectantly for someone to speak their opinion.

"I want to discuss what was said before the last meeting ended," Kallah said. Her mouth was set in a deep frown directed at Eramire. "About who you think the man in white was."

Helera spoke up. "Well, I think it was fairly obvious. Like Eramire said, he was the Forgotten One."

"I refuse to believe such a preposterous idea." Kallah's voice rose. "Why would he address one of our youngest members? Why not Luric or Eladra?"

"Or you, Your Highness?"

Eramire eyes snapped to the elf man who had spoken. His name was Aroben, and he was one of her commanders back in Calapheran. His hair was jet black, eyes the usual stormy blue of the sea elves. He had longed to make the journey back with her, but she knew she had made a wise decision in leaving him behind. If it came to war, he would lead her people back over the sea.

Kallah studied the soldier with sharp eyes. "I just don't think he would entrust someone so inexperienced with the task of stopping Goroth. Not when there are so many others more suited."

"Hear, hear," crowed Belrek, and Talen nodded.

Aroben stood, his form shimmering. "What Her Majesty may lack in years she has made up for in the magic she has performed. I know I am not the only one who would say Her Majesty is one of the most powerful mages born in centuries."

"Aroben," Eramire said, holding up a hand to silence him. She turned to look at Luric. His fingers were interlocked in front of him, and he looked thoughtful for a few moments. Finally he spoke.

"The man did not speak to any but Eramire directly, which means whether he is the Forgotten One or not, she is the one that has been chosen for something. A better question is for what?"

"What disturbs me is the words the man spoke," said Helera. She looked around at the others. "A princess destined never to rule will decide our fate? It seems to imply that Calathil will fall no matter what, and perhaps all of Rhovamben with it."

Everyone looked between Eladra and Luric. Since they were the elders, everyone was expecting them to shed some light on the more cryptic aspects of the vision.

"Whatever the meaning of the prophecy, one thing is certain: it speaks of Amara. But what of the fire in her hands?" Luric said as he leaned back to stare at the mallospen.

"The only fire wielders to be known were in the Edan desert, and they have not been seen nor heard from in many years. The people of Calathil are people of stars and moonlight. Fire would be in direct opposition to whatever magic the moonstones have bestowed upon the young princess." Eladra frowned as she spoke.