Their Prophecy

Mushrooms

After Analise’s departure, the silence had hung in the air like a dark cloud, but all of the eyes had moved to the group of vampires. The poorly hidden animosity prior to the event was now glaringly obvious.

“Why would she do that?” Violet whispered. She’d become sickly in pallor. "Why didn't she just bow?"

“She said she didn’t want to participate,” was Kai’s pungent answer.

While Violet glared at Kai, Xavier just grinned. “She was amazing.”

“Quite a performance,” Luca grumbled, straightening to glare openly at any elf who felt brave enough to look their way. “You understand she was just publicly humiliated, yes?”

“Ah, and the way she intimidated them into submission was brilliant.” There was a gleam in his brother’s eyes. Luca scolded Xavier who seemed completely unperturbed, still incredibly proud of his niece.

Cronan just sighed, trying to comfort Violet, nudging Zechariah who gave a slight nod in understanding. Well aware of where his link had gone, already sauntering away from the crowd, Zech went off in the direction his little one had gone. Walking through the thick wilderness, he could sense her. He could guess what she was doing.

She did the same thing every night.

Deep in the wilderness, beneath the elder tree, she would frolic about with the faerie, eating mushrooms, dancing about. Zech had asked about the mushrooms once, back when Analise was more willing to converse with him, when things felt simpler—and even then, she hadn’t had the answers he’d needed. Essence, she’d said. It has something in them that sates her hunger, helps her cope.

Analise was always hungry.

Even if she fed on blood, there was another hunger that gnawed at her.

It was like a constant ache within her small stomach.

Zech worried the mushrooms might be some kind of drug, something psychedelic and dangerous. When he had decided he would try one of the mushroom for himself, he found that they couldn’t simply be plucked from the ground. Rooted in an unnatural way, made of much stronger material than should be thought possible considering its waxy outer texture—he couldn’t rip the damn things out of the dirt.

Enchanted, perhaps?

Maybe it was the faerie who chose who could consume them.

And so, he worried on, watching, unable to do anything to stop the madness that had become her nightly routine. Dancing, singing, mushrooms, sleep. He’d spent many a night in the lush grass next to his link, often surprised by the amount of animals that lay around her, creating what seemed like a protective circle around them.

Kai had once told him, with all seriousness, that the animals know. The others, he’d added with a slight sigh, not so much.

Zech been sure what that meant, nor had he wanted to ask. What do they know?

Getting closer to her now, Zech could hear it.

Haunting, tragic—it was a song of the ancient language, the one she’d sung with such a daunting way within the hall earlier. He could still feel the wind, the voltage of power bounding loose from the small creature, threatening to tear apart everything in its wake.

Now, it was sung at a different tempo.

Faster, almost rushed.

He could feel the breathlessness of his link, could feel her motions even before he saw them for himself as she threw her hands in the air, twirling about. A once fumbling, awkward dance had become sharper in the last few nights and the faerie pranced about with her, mirroring the motions—or perhaps the girl was mirroring the faeries.

Every night, without fail, they would dance about.

And every night, from the perch he’d set up for himself on a branch at the edge of the clearing surrounding the gigantic tree, Zech would watch on.

“Quite astonishing, is she not?”

A shiver ran down Zech’s spine as he turned to find he wasn’t alone on the branch.

Seated beside him without so much as a sound or warning, was the Augur. He knew it was the Augur because it always showed itself as the most comforting person to their prey, and now all Zech could see was an elderly man in the place of the monster, one that resembled his late father.

“How have you been Zechariah?”

It smiled.

He always hated when it smiled.

“Why are you here?”

“Much the same reason you’re here, I reckon,” he stated with ease.

Not much is known about the Augurs other than the fact that they are cursed. A bad omen to all those they impose upon. “I care for Analise.”

“You think I do not?” it asked, quirking a brow.

It was a ridiculous question. “You should leave this place. Leave her be.”

“I would never abandon the child.” Its words were pungent, pointed. Zech felt them slice into him like knives.

“Neither would I.” Though, he thought with great contempt, he’d considered it before. Leaving, he’d thought once or twice, might be the best option for everyone.

“The elves call her a witch.”

Blond curls bouncing about as the small creature bounded next to the shimmering, silver creature that took the form of a beautiful woman—they were chanting the same verses, over and over again. Were they dancing around a bonfire rather than the trunk of a giant oak, Zech imagined it would be a textbook case of what one would consider witchcraft.

“They reject her.”

Zech’s jaw tightened.

“You reject her.”

Turning sharply at the accusation, Zech’s eyes flashed silver but the Augur didn’t seem phased in the least. The creature was unafraid of threats and, as his element had made a point of telling him in the past, the creature could only be destroyed by the God’s themselves.

Indestructible.

Irritating.

Sitting too damn close.

“She will mature quickly now,” the Augur stated easily.

He knew his presence was infuriating but chose to stay nonetheless.

The thing seemed to have, unfortunately, taken a liking to Zech.

Turning forward, away from the Augur, he stared down at the girl, now laughing even as her once blue eyes had turned that terrifying white. It was a wonder that such a small, beautiful little girl could carry such a horrifying power.

“The war is upon us.”

The war.

All anybody could talk about was the blasted war.

The violence to come.

“We can only take her so far. She needs cooperation from all sides.”

We.

Who was we?

Glancing back at the Augur to ask what he meant, he found that the thing wasn’t there anymore. Seated out by the elder tree, it was clapping along to the song which had changed tempo again, the giggles of the small girl filling the space with the chiming of bells. As Ana fell to the grass, lying flat on her back, Zech could see the slow approach of curious animals, watching as his link curled up on her side, falling asleep in a way that was much too fast, unnatural.

The mushrooms, he was certain, made her manic, euphoric. After the euphoria ebbed, she slept deeply, often leaving Zech alone to struggle with his nightmares.

They came every night. Weaving the same tale of misery. Of a woman with long blonde curls, eyes a familiar blue wearing blood-soaked clothing, standing in front of a blazing fire.

Violet’s premonition from what felt like eons ago now was becoming more relevant every day. He could imagine the destruction to come, the chaos bound to ensue—he just wished it wasn’t all due to the existence of his little Analise.

It was inevitable, he knew.

Unstoppable.

Soon, he suspected, that little girl would turn everything to ash.