[Novnarwen]

Tarkan

He gasped for breath as he sat up in his bed. The images in his dream were still floating in his head. Had this been a vision? As a young boy, he had had visions, but when becoming older they had disappeared. There was little difference between a dream and a vision, but he was able to distinct the two, having much experience with both in the past. It struck him as odd that these images could be a vision though, but thinking of the credibility of these images in a time such as now, he realised that they could in fact be true.

The Priest heard the sound of the silent snores coming from Pelin. Since the day that Tarkan had told him of his heritage, that he was in truth the real King of Pasthia, Pelin had in some way come to like him more. Tarkan didn't know whether it was due to the fact that he hoped for a good position at his court when (or if) becoming King, or if his new form of respect really reflected their friendship. Tarkan didn't at all mind Pelin's company anymore; he had proved himself a trustworthy fellow; not once had he even approached the King with Tarkan's secret. There were of course several reasons for that, among them: the fact that the King had grown so powerful and the darkening of Pasthia. Not even Tarkan dared approach his brother any longer, not that he had any chance to either. Once, his whole plan had depended on Pelin's disobedience, (that he would indeed tell the King of Tarkan), but this didn't bother him now. Things had been moving in such a pace lately, that the always watchful priest hadn't been able to keep up. It seemed nearly impossible to grasp the throne now, as Gjeelea was married with the ‘honourable’ Korak, and the King had the mysterious Emissary at his side as his councillor. At this time, he didn't need the throne though. There were, if possible, far worse things that needed to be taken care of.

"Pelin, you must awake." Getting out of his bed he nudged the tiny fellow that lay on the floor. Slowly, Pelin opened his grey, weary eyes. The two of them had been fasting for several weeks in a row, and their intense praying for aid in the madness of the King had set mark on both of them. Pelin, who had been a rather handsome man, with green sparkling eyes and always a nice tanned colour in his face, had large, dark rings under his eyes. The last bit also counted for Priest himself. During the last weeks, their skinny bodies had turned ungainly, and both of them looked as if they would fall apart and break into thousands of pieces if anyone came near and touched them. Their faces had a ghostly appearance; pale and withering, and they were the very images of unhealthy, sick and soon to die men. On top of it all, neither of them had the chance to visit the temple very often, having to stay inside after curfew and avoiding the foul creatures that patrolled the streets, and thus, the lack of fresh air hung as a grey cloud over their heads.

"Morning already?" Pelin asked, being in the good belief that he would finally get something to eat. Fasting didn’t mean not eating at all; they ate dried bread before the sun rose, which meant early in the morning, and just after the sun had set, in the early evening. Sometimes they poured themselves a goblet of wine, to dip their breads in, to give it a better taste, but richly drinks and foods were becoming seldom in the Kingdom of Pasthia.

"No. I'm sorry to wake you up, but I think I had a vision. Oh... What horrors await us if this is true." It was unlike Tarkan to seem so lost, and if the Priest had said this half a year ago, people would wonder of what illness he suffered.

With questioning eyes, Pelin rose and seated himself opposite of Tarkan. "So it is true?"

"Have you seen it too?" The Priest asked amazed. Pelin nodded. Seeing Pelin in front of him, having shared this vision with him and probably being just as surprised as himself by what seemed like a miracle, Tarkan's eyes lit up. It had been a long time since he had smiled, but in the early hours of this day, he finally did. Pelin forced a smile too, realising what Tarkan thought; Rae or Rhais, or both of them, had paid them for their devotion and belief that their Gods would help them and now they had.

"The priestess Zamara is alive and well. I knew it. I knew the King was lying. It was just an excuse to ruin her." It was humanity who spoke, humanity that had lain hidden, closed behind bars in his soul for all this time. Discussing this with Pelin, and the other aspects of their vision, which included the King proposing to a mysterious woman that neither of them had caught the name of, Gjeelea fleeing in front of the King's eyes and the Prince talking to the Priestess, they knew that the ruin of these Lands were close if nothing was done.

It was time to unite the powers that still remained. The priestess Zamara still had followers, and if the two of them, plus Pelin, could find a way to work together, that would be the only solution. He and Zamara had to put the past aside, and think of the future, if there was still one that awaited them. They had to confront each other and confront the truth that the two of them were the only two who could bring the Kingdom on the right path again. Already, the Priestess had good connections with the Princess and the Prince. Could not the four of them take control, even if it meant taking Faroz down from the throne and placing him in a tomb? Yes, this had to be it; a union of people in Pasthia who still had some power, and use this power to drive the shadow that possessed the King far, far away.