Oracle (Book I)

Merlin the Second

Late that night, Caprice restlessly tugged her dressing gown over her night gown. Waiting outside by the lake was the second potion she'd started that afternoon. Can't sleep so I'll just go finish it, she thought as she got up.

"Come, Fritter," she whispered so as not to wake Bossa or Nezzle. "You can't possibly want to stay cooped up."

The friegle leapt out of Bossa's hammock and followed her out the door into the soft light of the stone hall, staying on her heels as they left the Dragon's Roost.

Beneath the night sky, the darkened grounds seemed vast and much too wild and mysterious to be wandering around at this hour, but she didn't turn back. She had nearly reached the spot where her cauldron sat quietly bubbling when Fritter meowed loudly and dashed off into the dark.

"Wait, Fritter! Don't run off like that." Caprice conjured three small yellow warming flames around her in the air and used them to light her way to the gardens a little ways from the cauldron. There, she found Fritter romping around in a patch of wild dragon snap.

"I guess friegles need something a little stronger than catnip," she said. As Caprice walked among the flora, she felt a little sad. "Na-na would have loved it here. She always wanted her own garden, but we aren't allowed to grow anything of our own in the village." A spurt of anger heated her mood as she remembered Mrs. Whitehare and her children yanking Zyeer's rainbow tulips and baby's breath out of the ground. With such a sad expression, Zyeer had often buried the flowers after they, torn from their roots, wilted prematurely.

She stopped to pick a few glossy leaves off a slick plant. She smiled to herself, thinking that after she finished Bossa's potion, the leaves would make a nice sealant for the parchment of Po's maps. Something so elaborate as Po's detailed renderings should be properly preserved and kept for years to come.

Marveling at the garden's growth, vitality, and variety by the light of her flames, Caprice didn't notice the mist slip in around her. It's presence was announced by a sudden hush in the night along with a prickling, slight pressure and an odd sensation in her ears as if she was hearing something that had no voice. Caprice looked around. The fog shrouded only her and the surrounding flora.

"Ester, is that you?" she said quietly. It did not look exactly the same as in her dream but it was a mist that appeared out of nowhere nonetheless. Ester appeared to me as something like a mist in this very garden. It doesn't appear to be out of the ordinary though...

Or so she thought at first.

Though the night air, the grass, and the plants were dry and there was no hint of rain, the mist persisted and thickened into a light fog.

It whispered her name.

Eyelids growing heavy, Caprice sank towards the grass and onto her knees. I've only ever dreamed of Ester and Rock... But it has to be her.

Hesitantly, she whispered back, "Ancestor, I am listening. Is that you?"

~

      Scryer's Mountain illuminated the tree line surrounding it. At the center of everything yet appearing only to be a fascinating fixture amidst the scenery. From one of the castle towers, Earithean noted that it was easier to see the white silvery light suffusing it here. Yet, perversely, it was impossible to see it for what it was unless one already knew what it was.

It is even more beautiful and sinister by the light of the moon. The mountain's light did not come from the moon though. Rather, the moon and its light was conjured from it.

"Admiring the view? I should think you of all people might have grown weary of it after all this time."

Earithean turned as Merlin the Second strode through the tower's doorway.