Prologue: The Prophecy

1527 Words
Twenty Years Ago The man with black hair and piercing blue eyes urged his mount to go faster through the woods. The terrain was difficult, with a narrow path full of twisted roots and jagged rocks. He wished he could make the journey in wolf form, but it was forbidden to approach the witches that way. His horse stumbled, and he reluctantly reined him in. He was close now. He could feel the timbre of magic in the air, distinguish the smell of cooking and herbs from the witch's cottage. In another minute, the hovel came into view. It was old and dilapidated, with weather-worn logs that looked like they'd crumble to the touch and a mildewy straw roof. Still, he knew the house would remain standing tall for as long as the sisters wished it. He dismounted his horse and tied him to a nearby tree, then strode purposefully to the door and knocked. "Enter, Alpha Axel of the Blue Moon Pack," an eerie voice replied. The door scraped against the ground as Alpha Axel ducked his head under the lintel. "I seek the services of the seer, Ruya," he said with no introduction. The two witches looked up. Both had fine features, but with an air of cruel detachment that prevented them from being truly beautiful. One had hair as black as his, with cold dark eyes. The other's hair was white as snow, with pale silvery gray eyes. As different as they were, they also had the same bone structure, the same shape of the face that marked them as sisters. "Have you the proper ingredients?" The white-haired witch asked in a whispery monotone. Her sister returned to her work grinding herbs, a look of boredom on her face. "Yes," Alpha Axel answered, pulling a small leather bag from his belt. From it he withdrew two tufts of hair, each wrapped in thread. Both were black, but one was silky smooth like his own hair, where the other was fur. He dropped them both on the small wooden table in front of the seer. "My pack is being threatened by several others. More die every day as the wolves descend into an all-out civil war. I need to know how to beat them and protect my people." "My gifts do not reveal a path to change the future, only what will be," the seer replied, her silver eyes fixed in the middle distance. "I've heard," Alpha Axel said impatiently. "But I also know that your prophecies are open to...interpretation." Ruya didn't answer, or even acknowledge that she'd heard him. "Well? Do you need more in payment? Gold? Jewels?" "I do not seek worldly wealth," the seer replied. In the corner, her dark-haired sister scoffed quietly. "Then can we begin?" Alpha Axel said, struggling to maintain his composure. "We need but two more ingredients," Ruya said, picking up a heavy stone basin and placing it in the center of the table. She waved her hand over the bowl and a bright blue fire burst forth, without any visible fuel to sustain it. Magic. "Sit before the fire," she said, indicating the space across from her. The tall alpha folded himself awkwardly down to sit on the swept dirt floor. She picked up the silky black hair and tossed it in the blue fire. "Capillus mortalium, custos hominum," she chanted, the fire turning green as the incantation began. "Capillus lupus, custos pecoris," she continued, dropping the tuft of wolf fur into the fire after it and beckoning for the alpha's hand, which he extended across the table. The fire turned purple as it consumed the fur. "Sanguis animae quae constringuntur," she crooned, using a knife from her cloak and drawing a deep cut across his palm, letting a rivulet of blood fall on the fire before it started to heal. The fire snapped and crackled and turned a deep red. "Futurum revelatum, Fatum dixit!" The fire turned a blinding white, and the seer's eyes glowed white with it. Alpha Axel squinted against the brightness, keeping his eyes trained on the seer. Her eyelids fluttered but remained open as she clutched the sides of the bowl, staring directly into the fire. Suddenly she gasped and her eyes rolled back in her head. The Alpha felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "After twenty years of war, the true alpha heir of Blue Moon will find their mate in the eldest daughter of the Howling Rivers Alpha, and together they shall win the final battle." When she finished speaking, her eyes returned to their normal silvery color. "Twenty years?" The alpha asked angrily. "We will have war for twenty more years?" "I do not invent the future, I only perceive the threads which are shown to me by Fate," the seer said indifferently. "That prophecy didn't make any sense," Axel said disgustedly. "For Goddess's sake. Do it again!" "I do not get to choose what part of destiny is revealed," she said. "Fate has consumed your offering, and shared a portion of its tangled threads. There is nothing more to say." The alpha glared. "Give me some proof of your prophecy, at least, so I can further decipher it later." "That has an additional price," Ruya said, finally gazing at him again. Her sister scoffed again. "Then I will pay it." "Fate has revealed unto you a secret. In return, you must reveal a secret to Fate," the seer explained. "What kind of secret?" The seer leaned forward and touched her thumb to the alpha's forehead. "Fate seeks your deepest fear." The alpha sighed. "Is there anything else I could offer?" Ruya stared impassively at Alpha Axel. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "I fear defying Fate." The seer's thumb glowed against the alpha's skin. When the light faded, she pulled her hand back and pressed the same thumb into the bottom of the basin. At first, nothing happened. Then, the inside of the bowl appeared to grow a condensation of black wax, which then melted and pooled around Ruya thumb. She lifted her thumb and magicked a blank scroll to her other hand, then pressed the wax to the edge of the paper in the middle of the scroll. There was a flash of violet light, and the wax was suddenly affixed to the scroll, with a black waxen seal depicting three eyes on it. The symbol of Fate. "This scroll contains the prophecy as told," the seer said, handing it to Alpha Axel. "It cannot be destroyed while the prophecy remains unfulfilled." "Thank you, seer," the alpha said, practically ripping it from her hands. "I'll be on my way." "You will," she agreed with indifference. The alpha ducked out of the hovel and went straight to his horse, riding quickly back out into the night. In the cottage, the seer turned to her sister. "It will not work." The black-haired witch looked at her sister with disdain. "To what are you referring?" she asked haughtily. "I have told you time and again, Cecelia. You will not be able to thwart the prophecy," Ruya said in her standard monotone. "Fate is a mistress—" "—that cannot be changed, I'm aware," Cecelia said drily, picking up her mortar and pestle and bringing it to a counter full of various sized glass jars. She waved her hand and the ground herbs she was working with flew from the mortar into a jar and sealed themselves in with a cork and wax. She waved her hand again and the jar rose into the air and gently came to rest on one of the many shelves above. "I never said I was going to meddle." Ruya just looked at her. "You will fail." "If you say so," Cecelia responded irritably. She glided to the door. "I'm going out for some air." The seer nodded. "Sister." Then she settled back in her chair, her eyes rolling back in her head as she reached out to read the strands of Fate once again. Cecelia slammed the door behind her and started pacing away. All her life, her sister had been sought out and exalted for her gifts. A seer was a rare and powerful being, with usually only one gifted every other generation or so. She should feel blessed to call such a being her sister. But she wasn't. Ruya was perfect, in every way. Growing up in her shadow had driven Cecelia to rebel, and she had managed to garner a darker reputation of her own. She herself was a powerful witch, though she lacked the Sight. People came from hundreds of miles around, seeking to strike a deal with her in exchange for a potion or spell to help them get what they wanted. People always wanted something. Supernatural or not, they were all take and no give. "We shall see," she whispered into the night. "We shall see." An owl hooted. The crickets chirped. Somewhere in the distance, a nightly predator stalked their prey. There, in the clearing in front of the hovel, Cecelia's mouth curled into a mischievous grin.
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