Black Crystal Part 1 - The Origin

Chapter Twelve ~ Illusions and Dreams

 While Garen was more than okay with protecting Princess Lenora, he didn't realize how excruciatingly boring keeping watch would be. It was nice and warm by the fire, and he got to sit beside Lenora the whole time, but sitting outside in the dark, being the only one awake, was not only extremely boring, but also a bit frightening. Once again, Garen was afraid of the dark, and especially being in an unknown forest without the conscious company of others, he felt very isolated. He looked at Lenora briefly before standing up to stretch his legs. He grabbed one of the two swords he carried with him, the old, tarnished one, and unsheathed it, and studied the aged blade.

It feels so natural to hold, Garen thought to himself. As if it was built just for me... He looked around in the darkness and made sure no one could see him, and he slashed the sword a bit. It cut through the air smoothly. Garen smiled a bit and began to slice and slash the sword all about, imagining he was in a duel. "Watch out for the hero," Garen whispered with a bit of a grin, stabbing forward and jumping back quickly. "I won't let you lay a finger on Lenora."

"You're a natural fighter—just like your mother."

Garen was startled to hear the unfamiliar voice come from out of nowhere. In a bit of a panic, he frantically looked around for a source of the voice, and then he saw a twig fall to the ground.

"I'm up here, dweeb." All of a sudden, Garen saw a young man jump from the top of a nearby tree. Garen pointed his sword at the young man, his arm trembling with fear.

"I-I won't let you hurt the Princess, you demon...!" he said, his voice trembling, but suddenly, the young man turned his hand and made the sword float out of Garen's hand.

"I'm not a bad guy, alright?" the mysterious young man slowly wiggled his fingers, willing the sword to float even higher.

"Well, then who are you, and why are you all the way out here?" The young man lowered his hand, and in turn, lowered the sword back into Garen's hand.

"I never let people know my real name," the young man said. "In fact, only some members of the Royal Family here in the Oregon Province know what my real name is, but you can call me J."

"O... kay?" Garen tilted his head in confusion, but then he shook his head and scoffed. "Well, whatever. What in the world did you mean just a moment ago? I'm a fighter like my... mother? How do you know who my mother is? She passed away before I was even old enough to really know who she was." J. grinned and sauntered around with his hands behind his back.

"Well..." he began with a sigh, "let's just say I have a, um, a special authority in this world. Access to knowledge no one could possibly begin to comprehend. Consider me to be like an oracle, or maybe even a prophet in this world."

"You're weirding me out," Garen said, watching the mysterious young man walk around like he owned the place.

"I figured as such. I tend to take on a rather cocky attitude when I appear in my own worlds. I mean, what?" J. shook his head and stopped walking. "I'm getting sidetracked here." Suddenly, they were both silenced at the sound of Peter's voice.

"Hey, Garen. You talking to your imaginary friend?"

"Peter!" Garen turned around and knelt down beside Peter, who was barely even half awake. "There's a really weird guy here. He apparently knows who my mom is." Peter propped himself up with his elbows and looked around with squinted eyes.

"What in the world are you talking about?" he asked. "I don't see anyone here. You off talking to ghosts or something?" Garen turned around and noticed that J. wasn't there. "Something tells me you need to get some sleep. I'll take this watch."

"I swear, though, he was there!"

"And I'm riding a rainbow." Peter stood up and grabbed his spear. "Get some sleep, Garen. You look absolutely exhausted."

"But..." Garen looked back into the darkness of the forest before he sighed and nodded. "Alright, I'll get some sleep."

* * *

You're a natural fighter—just like your mother.

J.'s words echoed through Garen's mind as he slept. What in the world was that supposed to mean, anyway? He didn't get much time to subconsciously think about it, because suddenly, an unfamiliar location came into view in his dream. It was a port at sea covered in fog. Garen could hear the waves crashing up against the port as a ship started to anchor down. A brown-haired woman stood in metal armor carrying a familiar sword. She watched as the ship arrived, and a woman who looked slightly younger than her but wore similar armor emerged from the ship and approached her with a salute.

"We've finished preparing for battle, Lady Anita!" the younger woman spoke. The older woman, assumably named Anita, nodded and looked at the ship.

"The Queen is expecting their new daughter in just a few months," Anita whispered. "They don't deserve to get involved with this war, especially not with the Prince being so young! Please tell me Prince Xander isn't already getting trained to fight."

"He's only two years old, milady," the younger woman replied. "The King and Queen know better than to do something like that." Anita nodded and sighed.

"I know, I know... they're good friends of mine. I trust them, which is exactly why I serve them. I'm just sort of freaking out right now." The younger woman nodded in response.

"I understand," she said. "You're probably afraid of leaving your son in that village, aren't you?" She placed a hand on Anita's arm and smiled. "Trust me; Garen will be perfectly safe with the Bishop there." But immediately, Anita turned away, and there were tears in her eyes.

"That's not the John Sleadd I know. I'm telling you, that Bishop is not the same man!"

"With all due respect, milady, I think this all has to do with your paranoia, but please, remember that Garen's in good hands! Now, come along. You'll be able to see him again after the war."