Chapter VI
There she was, before his eyes once again. It had been only a night since he last laid eyes upon her in his dreams. She never returned to his dreams this quickly, which made this different. Together, they were in a vast field, as the breeze bent the grasses and whipped her hair. She danced in circles; her soft yellow dress whirled about with her. Her presence alone was enough to bring him happiness and it intensified with her smile and a complete enjoyment of life.
He was still unaware of the identity of the girl, yet he felt a strong connection to her. He wanted to dance with her so to feel nothing except pleasure. In the field, there was nothing of which could harm him. The vast openness was a buffer from worldly suffering and with the girl; he reveled in the beauty. He began to approach her, in order to hold her and dance with her. He neared her and reached his hand for hers and upon touching her; she let out an ear-piercing shriek.
The beauty of the field disappeared replaced with a stiff wind and dark storm clouds. The girl's eyes became an endless black; a shade of nothingness. Her joyful smile became one of menace. She dug her fingers into his arm and pulled him towards a hill. Once at the top, the storm broke. The explosive thunder, accompanied by ferocious bolts of lightning was only the backdrop to a more sinister view from the hilltop. Owen looked upon a valley overrun with hordes of monsters and other beings of evil. Standing against evil were men, elves, and dwarves. There were rows upon rows of the evil beings, forming a black mass, that with each advance against their adversaries, they swallowed the land. Evil had much larger numbers and were slaughtering the combatants of the light.
A gust of wind carried the scent of death and devastation to Owen. The putrid scent brings him to his knees in a feeling of despair. The girl beckons him to cast his sights back towards the valley. He lifts his head and observes a new figure in the battle. The figure, illuminated by a bright aura, butchered any evil that stood in his way. He was a master with the sword and had the ability to hurl fire at the enemy and manipulate the earth beneath their feet. Nothing could stand against him. The sight of this man filled Owen with a new sense of pride and hope for those that stood against evil. The man massacred his way to a clearing and suddenly turned towards Owen in the distance.
Owen stood in confusion, staring at the man who looked upon him. A beam of light suddenly connected Owen to the man as he felt a slight burn on his left forearm. An image of a dagger with the inscription: Lord of the Light, Conqueror of Shadows, Keeper of Peace; was burned into his skin. As Owen continued staring at the man, the man's face distorted and quickly replaced with Owen's own face.
"Return to your friends and be wary Owen. Evil returns and it is now your job to end it."
"Who are you? Who am I? What is going on?"
"Return and fight. Fight for those who can not fight for themselves."
With that, the man turned away from Owen and returned to the battle. Owen continues to gawk at the man's back until he decides to look for the girl. He glances to his sides and then behind him, but she is nowhere to be seen. He turns to face the valley again, yet it has vanished, replaced with the girl charging for him with a dagger and drives it into his gut.
Owen opens his eyes and is no longer alone in the field. Thousands of dead, dying and mutilated bodies surround him, and he is lying on the blood-soaked ground with them. He tries to get to his feet, but collapses from the sharp pain in his gut and Owen quickly remembers the girl stabbed him. With his body slowly draining of blood, he clenches his wound and forces himself to stand, albeit slightly hunched. He begins to take steps forward, not knowing where he was heading. None of those still alive bothers to look at him. Along with the bodies of men, the bodies of Elves, Dwarves, and creatures of the dark littered the field. The blood soaked pitch seems to be the aftermath of the battle Owen had recently witnessed. So much death and destruction, Owen was growing weak. A few more steps were all he could take before he fell, face first to the ground, and all went black.
"How good of you to come see me," a voice says. Owen lifts his head and fights delirium as he studies his new setting. He was lying on a smooth and cold marble floor. The room was dark with shadows cast by the fire that was set ablaze in the fireplace. A silhouette of a figure sat in a chair with his back to the fire and adorned a hooded cloak, which succeeded in hiding the figure's face. "I have been waiting to meet you boy. It is said that only the marked one stands a chance of standing against me, yet think of the mighty power that you could wield if you, but only joined my cause. Together, we could make this world ours and you could have everything you have ever desired. What do you think of the proposition of joining me?"
"Who are you?" Owen asked as he staggered to his feet.
"You do not know? I have many names and titles, but my favorite would be King of the Shadows."
"That is just a figure from nightmares and the tales that parents tell their children to keep them from misbehaving. Needless to say, I would never join sides with a figure of his damning nature."
“We will see how your answer changes once we meet in person.” With that, the King of Shadows rises, looming over Owen and grabs him by his coat before saying, “You will be mine, marked one,” and then throws him across the room and into a wall.
Gasping, Owen awakens from his dream. He could feel the burning on his forearm and the spot where the girl stabbed him. He was about to check to see if the marks were real when he noticed Eliiana watching him.
