Crest of Power: Kevin and the Magician

23 At the Well

Kierra stood in the doorway watching Krevik sleep. It was the middle of the day, but that was to be expected. He must have been tired after getting no sleep in the night. After all Rodan, Krevik, and herself talked only for a while to decide that Krevik was to go. Rodan wanted to know where, but it was only right that he didn't know. For some reason Krevik agreed. He hadn't wanted to wake Jesse to say goodbye, because he was certain he couldn't face leaving her if she cried, so he wrote her a letter. What a soft hearted fool. How did he keep that soft heart growing up as he did? Krevik was still such a big mystery...

*=*=*

Krevik dreamed. He knew he was dreaming, because it felt like a dream everything was tangible, but somehow he was unable to interact with it. An unfamiliar figure slept where he had been. He was inside Kierra's house. The Enchantress. He didn't know what to call her anymore. He looked around. It felt somehow different. It didn't look as lived in. Kierra's house looking like she lived in it was the only reason he had been able to fall asleep in the first place. But now seeing it as it was, He didn't feel comfortable at all. He looked around a bit more. He realized by looking in the mirror that he was invisible. So... no interaction, no visibility... What else? Ah no speaking. It wasn't as though his mouth was glued shut or anything, just that there was no sound coming from his lips. What if this was no dream but some spell. He was suddenly frightened. After all, it was an unfamiliar dream. He tested his ears. Birds, he could hear birds, they were outside singing happily. He followed the sound. It was nightingales. It was night time. The moon was full and there...looking down the well that he had drunk from... It was stone! There were no vines at all. Where had all the vines gone!?

"I know you're standing there," Kierra said while looking down the well. "Why don't you come have another drink?" She knew he was there! How?

She turned and seemed to look right through him. She seemed younger, more vibrant. But angry. It was like there was fire in her eyes. Her white flowing clothes shone under the full moon.

"Are you alright?" He heard a gruff voice from behind him. He was the one she had noticed. It had startled him. The sleeping person had woken. He was the one she was looking at. He was the one she spoke to.

"Isadar," she said wearily, "You really should come drink some more. You've been through a lot. The waters from this well heal."

"Thank you Kierra," he said. "But you haven't answered me."

She looked away and bit her bottom lip. She took a deep breath and said "I'll be fine." She turned back to him and smiled. "Really, I'm fine."

"You look anything but fine Kierra," Isadar said. "He broke both our hearts. This water cannot heal that."

"Oh Isadar!" She cried. "Did you see his eyes!? He's changed! If Blaise had not met us in time and warned us, all might have been lost." Her voice cracked. She still loved him.

"It's okay to cry," Isadar said. "You can cry. "I know you still love him. I do to! He's my brother."

"Not anymore," said Kierra with tears welling up in her eyes. Isadar hugged her, and they wept together, both mourning the loss of Emir.

The scene faded from Krevik's vision, and he felt himself pulled back to his own slumbering form. He awoke.

*=*=*

Kierra was not in the room, and she was not outside by the well. He didn't know why he expected her to be there. Maybe it was that dream. It was a dream right? It felt like a dream, but at the same time, it felt... real. Didn't Kierra betray Emir. And Emir was the Magician right? So then Kierra betrayed the Magician. But if that's the case, why was she crying. It made no sense. She was the bad one right? But if she was bad, why did Jesse and Helen trust her so implicitly? Rodan trusted her too. It seemed everyone trusted Kierra, and not the Magician. Was it that he had it backwards somehow? Was it the Magician that was not to be trusted? And Kierra, should he really trust her. She threw away the man she supposedly loved just like that. The magician had never really done anything to him. Not anything bad that he could remember.

The more Krevik thought, the more confused he seemed to get. It was like too many questionable things had happened. How was he to know who he could trust? Should he even trust any of them. He leaned against the well, and looked inside. Was the answer somewhere in the water. He decided to drink from the well. He didn't know if he could trust Kierra, but he somehow knew instinctively that she would not cause any harm to come to Isadar. Neither would the Magician for that matter. It was some sort of unspoken rule. Isadar was not to be hurt. So he drank. As he put the cool water to his lips and swallowed, his head cleared. It wasn't that he suddenly knew who to trust or anything, but he knew. He knew that he had dreamed like that before. It didn't hurt his head to remember. He knew. He had had dreams before, and he would always want to forget. He always wanted to forget his dreams because they would hurt his head, and sometimes they hurt his heart. Why did the dream this time not hurt? He took another drink of the cool water, and remembered the drink he had Phineas prepare for him. Phineas had told him "the master", the Magician did not like it when Krevik dreamed, and that they should keep it secret. It was better not to remember the dreams. So he would drink, and he would forget. And often enough, he would drink a potion to not dream at all. The dreams were important. He knew this now. His cup was empty; funny he didn't think he had drunk it all already. He filled his cup again. He took another drink of the water. His head seemed very light; all his dreams were coming back to him. He felt almost giddy as each dream returned in a flash of memory. He knew the story. His mother had told him this story, funny how he remembered it now. It was history; the history of his family. They always dreamed. It was a fact of life. He was supposed to dream. He needed to dream. He filled his cup again, how many times did this make? He took another drink. His head grew heavy, what was wrong? Wasn't it clearing his head moments ago? His head was swimming. Everything looked hazy.