[Nano novel] Chapter Seven: Traveling party.

As the three walked along, the old magician and the boy walking next to each other, and the girl clinging to the boy's back, late morning gave way to afternoon, and the sun was high in the sky before the magician called a halt to rest and eat.

They stopped at a rock pile that looked to Taliesin that it had been arranged just so, which was overshadowed by a one large tree with several large branches that hung low over the rocks.  Ava slid off his back near one large rock that was separate from the pile, and he sighed heavily and stretched out his arms and back.  She heard several loud cracks, and immediately felt horrible for being the cause of his obvious back pain.  They had walked all this way in total silence, however, and she felt almost uncomfortable breaking it, which was another unusual thing for her, and she knew it.  Already this place was... not changing her, but it was eliciting different responses than she usually gave.  One thing she was certain of: having been nearly eaten by a dragon, she would never again see anything the same way.  Fear had a whole new meaning for her now.

As Ava sat and rubbed her arms and shoulders and tried to relax in the shade, Tristan paced back and forth, back and forth.  He seemed unable to stop moving, even though he had been the one to tell them they were stopping to rest for a while. 

"Tristan," said Taliesin hesitantly, as if afraid to break his concentration, "what did you bring for eating?"

Tristan stopped only long enough to open his pack and throw a few apples at the two of them, and mutter something about bread and cheese for later.  Ava caught the apple he threw at her, and looked at it in mild surprise.  "This is a snack," she said matter-of-factly.  "Not that I'm refusing it, but this is hardly lunch."  Taliesin nodded but said nothing.  Ava wondered if the small magician was angry with him, because Taliesin seemed very wary of upsetting him.

After only ten or fifteen minutes, during which the white-haired magician continued to pace back and forth and occasionally say things under his breath (at one point he stopped and gestured, in a sort of westerly direction), he waved them up again, and Ava climbed onto Taliesin's back once more.  It was starting to feel familiar, if not exactly comfortable.  Now that they were traveling again, they kept silent like they had before.  She felt that this was odd, but did not feel comfortable being the first one to say something, so she remained mute, keeping company with her thoughts once more.

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Taliesin's back was beginning to ache.  He had carried the red-haired girl for what seemed like miles already, and Tristan was obviously not going to stop again for hours.  His mind, which up until about a half an hour before their rest stop had been foggy and, he suspected, still under the effects of whatever magic Cernunnos possessed, was now laboring over the things the dragon had said about him.

THE BOY WILL BE CROWNED, he had said.  The reverberations of his voice had gone all throughout Taliesin's body and seemed to have lodged in his very bones, because recalling the words of the dragon also recalled the sensation of those words being spoken.  There was no other boy there but him when Cernunnos had spoken, although he honestly did not think of himself as a boy.  Tristan, however, certainly considered him a boy - he called him by that title constantly, even though he had only met him the day before.  How strange that one could meet a person and already have a complicated history with them only twenty-four hours later.  And how strange to dream a red-haired girl, and the next day to be carrying her on your back. 

He shook his head, trying to get the thoughts in some kind of order so he could figure out how it all affected him, what it all meant.  Ava shifted her weight and her hair fell in his face again, but he didn't mind.  She tossed her head a little, which almost threw him off balance.  The hair was not hanging by his cheek any more, and part of him regretted that.  He had no idea who she really was, but some part of him knew her.  If he only knew why, maybe some part of this would make some sense. 

He tried to recall his dream from the night before, but all he could remember was her: her pale skin, red hair, and her sadness.  She hadn't seemed very sad when he met her, though.  She had seemed decidedly annoyed, although whether it was from her twisted ankle or some other reason he was not privy to, he had no idea.  She smelled like the woods, like autumn leaves and mossy bark.  She made him think of poetry and loneliness, and he did not even know who she was.

If only someone would start talking; Taliesin was beginning to feel uncomfortable, as well as powerless to change that feeling.

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Each mile they walked was another mile closer to the one thing that would either confirm or destroy Tristan's long-held belief in prophecy.  Cernunnos had referred to a very old prophecy, one that was so obscure that almost none of the lesser magicians even discussed it anymore.  Tristan was different, however.  Tristan had not been born on this world, and his perception of things, as somewhat of an outsider, had always served him excellently in his life here.  There were always mistakes that could be made, though.  This was either a colossal mistake or the fulfillment of what he considered to be the most important prophecy that this world had ever known.  Cernunnos' sire, a Great Dragon of legend, had been the one who prophesied more than an Age ago.

The prophecy echoed inside his mind as if he had heard it when it was first spoken, instead of having merely read it from its brittle pages and repeated it to himself many times:

The rainbow shall appear and bring forth a king, and he shall bring about our greatest danger.  The Great One will be wounded and his blood will heal the rift.

The rainbow itself was a very rare appearance, and he had made a point of studying every such occurrence throughout the last Age and this one, ever since the prophecy had been made.  His first reason was, of course, because he had come through the rainbow himself years ago.  For a time, when he had heard of the prophecy through Merlin, he wondered if he was meant to be a king.  As time went by, he began to believe that the prophecy was not about him.  Not only was there a King in the city up until five years ago, which would make ridiculous any claim he personally had to be the fulfillment of the prophecy, he had always had an inkling... a feeling deep inside his awareness... that he was meant to be in this world to guide the coming king when he appeared.  Taliesin could be that fulfillment.  And Cernunnos had referred his sire's ancient prophecy when he met the boy, and the words of a dragon were always of some import.

Whether great import or small, it remained to be seen.  His impatience in their journey was getting out of hand - years of life had not taught him nearly the patience he tended to need on a daily basis.  He needed to read the prophecy once more, in the King's Library, and to consult the attendant commentaries and expositions that had been written on it hundreds of years ago when it was still new and was being discussed by the most important and wisest magicians.  He needed to speak to his fellow magicians, the few of them who still lived in the city.  He needed Taliesin to go into the king's castle and observe him there.

He sigh, irritated at their slow pace.  Taliesin, obviously sensing Tristan's frustration, began to walk a little faster. 

This is taking so long... complained Tristan to himself.  It would not be a good idea to let them know just how impatient he was, so he attempted to rearrange his countenance and walk purposefully instead of hurriedly.  Still, it was several miles to the city and evening was coming on soon.  He hoped they could get within the walls of the city before twilight arrived and the gates were shut for the night.