Page 17 of Ruins of Magic
Chapter7
Arion hadn’t said a word since the revelation the old druid said. He was pacing back and forth along the river side trying to digest it all.
Finally, he turned back to the others.
“What did you mean by activating the stone. What did I do?”
The old me smiled reassuringly. “Fear not, Arion. The prophecy has already foretold your story. Do not fear your destiny. Dark times are ahead for all of Amaria, but. . .”
“Wait, dark times? Is that my fault?”
“It is no one’s fault, simply what must come.”
“That makes no sense. What did I activate when I touched the stones?” his voice was rising with the fear that was setting in knowing his clumsiness had apparently set off a chain of events leading to dark times for Gavalon. It had been nothing but an accident.
“Relax, your majesty.”
“Stop calling me that, please. I am nothing but an orphan, a mere servant to the throne. I am no prince,” Arion insisted.
The old man sighed. “As you wish, Arion. Now, how much do you know about magic?”
“More than most, I suppose.”
“He’s the High Keeper’s Apprentice,” Garron added proudly.
“So you are aware of the threat of Ryze then?” he asked.
“Ryze? The evil sorcerer who nearly destroyed Amaria and divided us into the six kingdoms we know today? He died over a millennium ago.”
“Yes, but do you know the truth in his threat to return?”
Valaria was all in with anticipation. She had been obsessed with Ryze as a child until her father had finally forbidden her to study him any further. “The truth?” she asked.
“Yes, child.”
“I know he vowed to return upon taking his own life after turning to dark magic when his family was killed.”
“Not exactly. His family was killed as a payment and consequence of his dark magic in his quest for ultimate power. He didn’t want to believe it was true and took his anger and grief out on the people of Amaria. Six houses rose to fight against him, Gavalon was one of those. The druids fought alongside the humans, as did many of the magical creatures throughout Amaria. When he realized he could not win, he preserved his soul in six stones.”
“But how is that possible? I read that Ryze was buried somewhere on Eerie Island off the coast of Pyr.”
The old man nodded. “We do not know for certain that is where they are keeping the body, but I too have heard those rumors. It may have been a thousand years but there are still those loyal to Ryze. They preserved his body and scattered the stones: one in each kingdom. His watchers stand guard and await the signs of his return. Where there is a stone, there is a watcher. You are not a watcher, Arion, you are a wielder, a chosen one. A watcher can not activate the stone, only one of purity can do that, but he or she will be lurking nearby awaiting the signs, much the same as the druids. Tell me when you encountered the stone, Arion.”
“It was months ago,” he confessed. “I had forgotten all about it until you just mentioned it. The stone is kept on an encased pedestal in the conservatory. I was cleaning one day and knocked it off the shelf. The encasement shattered. The pedestal went in one direction and the stone in another. I swear, all I did was pick it up and place it back on the pedestal. I returned it to its place on the shelf and cleaned up the mess. I didn’t think anyone would ever really notice.”
“What happened when you picked it up?” the druid asked.
Arion gulped hard. “The stone started glowing. I was scared at first knowing how angry Zallon would be, but before he returned, it had stopped and looked like a normal hunk of rock again. I never told anyone about that until now.”
“You didn’t even tell me about that,” Valaria said quietly.
“Because I didn’t want anyone to know what I mess I’d made,” he admitted.
“You were destined to activate that stone, Arion. If you hadn’t on your own accord, it would only have been time before the watcher came forth and enticed you to do it.”
“This is crazy. It’s just a piece of stone. What exactly do you think I activated?”
“A piece of the soul of Ryze.”
