The Warlock

Mount Tebbor

I went to bed late that night. Kirra and I were wandering around the forest for a long time, looking for rare flowers and ingredients. We didn't find much. Then again, that wasn't really the point.

When I did fall asleep, I dreamt of a mountain.

It wasn't just a mountain, it was the tallest mountain from horizon to horizon. I recognized it instantly as Mount Tebbor, about a week's walk away from Kadagv, the peak of which could sometimes be seen from the village, on very clear days, glittering on the horizon. In the dream, I was standing at the summit, almost a kilometer above all the clouds, where the air was rarefied and the sky was a deep, almost dark blue. Below me, I could see the countryside stretched out for hundreds of kilometers around me, in all directions.

At the peak, with me, was the Warlock.

He was meditating on the very top, and I was walking in his direction. Slowly, a step at a time, I was climbing further and further up the mountain. My body was frail, almost dying, and I wore nothing more than tattered and torn robes. My skin was sallow and gray with the cold, tough and almost solid to the touch.

"Oracle," the Warlock said to me, and turned in my direction. His eyes were wide, and he was bowing slightly.

I spoke to him in a low, deep voice, rattling like thunder, and quiet like lightning.

"Why have you come to my mountain this season, Daniel?"

At the mention of what I realized was his name, the Warlock's eyes shot up from the ground, and looked right at me.

"I have a question to ask you—"

"Daniel, you have come to ask about your new apprentice." I intoned, an acidic hint of condescension in my voice.

"Yes, Oracle, I wish to know if he will succeed me.'

Slowly, I nodded, and kept walking up the mountain, until I was at the very top. The Warlock—Daniel?—took a step backwards, watching me. I crossed my legs, sat down in the snow, and closed my eyes.

"He will," I said, immediately.

And in the very next moment, in the darkness of the hut, near Kadagv, underneath the olive grove, at my small cot by the Warlock's bed, I woke up.

I understood immediately what I needed to do. The dream—the Warlock—everything. I would have to climb Mount Tebbor. I had to leave that very morning. Without so much as a thought or deliberation, I started packing for the climb.

A witch can withstand worse conditions than a mortal human. I would have little trouble with the cold or the thin air at the peak, but I still needed food, and some warm clothes. Also, I packed a tent, and snowshoes, which I would put on when the snow got too deep. I was going in the beginning of winter, which wasn't the worst time of the year to go, probably, but it would still be difficult, considering potential dangers like avalanches, and harsh winds. So I took my normal array of ashes and potions, as well as a walrus-charm I'd been carving for the past few weeks, as well as a fox-charm.

The sun was only barely glowing behind the mountains when I was ready to go. I was sure it was at least six or seven in the morning, but because the days were growing shorter, it was still quite dark outside. Peak Tebbor was to the south of here, and I could see its huge silhouette on the horizon already when I squinted. It'll take about a week, one way, maybe a little less if I hurry—I guessed.

Since I was going south to the peak, I thought it would be a good idea to pass through the town and tell someone where I was going and when I would be back. Though I'd promised to come by today to help around town, I had no choice now. Such dreams—seeing from afar—were incredibly rare, and happened only at the behest of a very powerful witch. The fact I had gotten such a dream meant someone, perhaps the Warlock, perhaps the Oracle, wanted me at Tebbor.