Nomadrel's Journey part I

Nomadrel’s Journey

I

Dahamadra was a beautiful city. It’s splendor and technology rivaled legend. One family rose above all in the cities creation; The family of Drovelin and Mardrine. Nomadrel knew the story from his childhood. He also knew that a new chapter was about to begin.

Lee had just left him to his training. Nomadrel found himself born anew with the recent acceptance of his Grandfather, Drovelin. For so long as he had lived it had been under the oppressive thumb of his father, Ragnarok.

His father and mother had always had been very cold to him in his early childhood. He could even remember the day their coldness became more. It had always troubled him about what he had happened that day. Still he knew he could not dwell on it now.

Nomadrel directed his focus. He knew he could manipulate time, but it was difficult. Even creating the illusion of multiple versions of himself by jumping had its risks. A second Nomadrel now existed because this.

‘One hundred years into the future should be fine.’ He thought. In the span of a hundred years he wouldn’t risk running into anyone he knew or that knew him.

In a flash he vanished and when the light had gone Nomadrel found himself in a wasteland. The city that he had once admired now lay in ruin; Overrun by the ravages of the wild reclaiming the land. Debris and ruin littered the once beautiful streets. Beyond the crumbling city buildings smoke rose to meet the clouds.

‘Have people survived?’ it was the only thought he could manage before he was thrown to the ground. An explosion ripped through a nearby building, or what remained of it, sending shards everywhere.

When the dust settled Nomadrel was staring into the face of two rough looking kids. Clearly there was a war going on. Their war torn faces were all the evidence he needed to confirm. Behind the two children stood a man in a hooded jacket, his face hidden in its shadow.

“Who are you?” Nomadrel asked, writing off the presence of the others.

“That’s not important. What is important is that you finish your training.” The hooded figure replied.

Nomadrel was thrown for a loop, “How did you know about that?”

“Because the survivors have been waiting for you to arrive.”

Nomadrel could feel the hooded man’s smile, even with his face hidden. The figure began to walk away. Nomadrel followed. Clearly word had been sent ahead from the day he left for training. 'But who sent word?' Nomadrel wondered

The man in the hood led him to a small hidden entrance off the beaten trail from the street. From the lay of the land and remains of buildings Nomadrel knew where they were headed. Valion’s workshop and ground zero for the battle that came; would come.

Beyond the door was a multitude of people huddling together. Each face told the same story; Loved ones lost, starvation, and destruction waiting at every turn. He had lost sight of the man in the hood somewhere in the crowd. As he scanned the gathering he spotted someone else he recognized among them.

It was his Grandmother, Mardrine. Her smile seemed to lighten the dark miasma that engulfed the group. She was much older than he remembered, but then he'd traveled a hundred years into the future.

She took him aside to a more private area in the complex. “Much lay ahead of you my Grandchild. Though this is that last time I shall see you , you will see me again.”

Her words troubled him greatly. “So I come here again in the…my future?”

“You must be careful of all that you are to learn.” She answered with a smile.

Deeper and deeper into the complex he followed Mardrine. It struck Nomadrel as odd that he could still feel the presence of the translation machine. He wondered how it had survived so long after the fall of Dahamadra.

The path they were on lead them to a large open area. There was little sign of life in the room. It had been purposefully kept clear. Dimly lit, Nomadrel began to see why it had been restricted. “What is this place?”

Mardrine sighed deeply, “These are all that remain of the once great city of Dahamadra. These tunnels were built before your birth and even Ragnarok’s. They are the only thing keeping us safe from him.”

“You mean we didn’t lock him away? What about Valion’s….?”

“No, we did, but there were many followers. His generals and lieutenants rose to free their lord. Luckily the machine was destroyed in the initial bombardment.” Her word hung heavy on her lips.

“So his followers…Where are they now?”

“Trying to perfect Drovelin’s work…They got a sample.” Mardrine looked away.

Nomadrel could almost see what she was thinking. “From where?” he inquired, knowing the answer wouldn’t come. “The last of it is going to be used on the children so they would have a fighting chance in the times to come.”

“Yes, but many of those injected were adults…Valion and others. Luckily the Tarot…wait…You told me I should stop talking about them.” She replied. Nomadrel was beginning to not like his future self. Apparently, Mardrine had more to say. “Take your next trip and you’ll find your path…you promised me that you would. Now go.”

Confused, Nomadrel thought it would be best if he returned now. Clearly this time in history was not safe. He had the children to consider and he was only here because of his training.