Prophecy’s Queen

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Nearly three weeks had passed since Rozlynn arrived at the Caergana Abbey. She and Brother Hewin were still working through the translation of the book on Goblin prophecy recovered from the ruins of an old Goblin enclave in the Sikyu Mountains.

The Goblins were once known for their scholarship, though that was centuries ago. This volume was actually written before The Breaking of the World. Though it appeared to have several sections devoted to The Prophecy, it was difficult to determine which passages were speaking about the original use of the Triadine, and which may be referring to the present day.

"Princess?" Brother Hewin was absently rubbing his bald pate. "Will you please translate this passage for me? I think my first interpretation might have been incorrect."

Rozlynn took the translated sheets and started to read through Hewin's version.

"If you would not mind," he interrupted her, "would you work from the original and not be influenced by what I've already done?"

She glanced up in annoyance at the frail-looking monk, who often went days without eating while lost in his research. Though he was thin and pale, he could scamper up the library's ladders to the top shelves faster than any acolyte. She had to smile just a little.

"I will start fresh, Brother," she said calmly. "Both pages?"

"If you don't mind, Princess."

Brother Hewin was always polite, and when the Princess was here to study, he gave her his undivided attention. Rozlynn settled in to translate the Goblin text, though the age of this document meant that much of what the two of them understood would be in error. The written language of the Goblins was full of metaphors that were based on Goblin history, and that made any translation awkward at best and often incorrect.

The work was tedious, and Rozlynn worked through the first several paragraphs finding nothing of interest. Then she stopped, crossed out the words she had just written, and started the section again.

Bane of darkness. Born of short and long of life. Two are one, opposite and identical. Barak's scourge. Griswold's regret. The impossible is possible. When the ??? rise from spawn ???, the ??? will be the ones to ??? into the void forever.

After she finished as much of the translation as she could, she read this one section aloud. Hewin gave her his complete attention as she continued.

"Most of this text is a repeat of earlier sections," she announced, "and though it applies to the future of the Goblins, I don't think it pertains to The Prophecy. This one section however might be applicable. There are a few words I cannot do anything with."

"Barak?" Brother Hewin asked, "Isn't that the name of the Dragon Lord who served the Dark Wizard at the end of the First Age? Does that put this prophecy into the realm of those of the First Age?"

"It does, though I don't think it is accurate to say he served the Dark Wizard. I believe that the dragons were serving their own interests, and that just happened to align with Khollaran, that's all."

"Griswold?" Hewin asked for clarification. "I don't recognize that name either."

"You do, you just know him by another," Rozlynn suggested. "He was the last Goblin King in the North, after The Breaking."

"You mean Grash-nold?" Brother Hewin asked.

"They are one and the same. Goblin prophecy always refers to him this way. They superstitiously believe that they cannot name their leaders in prophecy. They believe if they use real names that the prophecy will not come true. Having him named in this passage clearly puts it after The Breaking."

"You know, most Goblin prophecy was recorded by the seers directly.” Brother Hewin was off on an academic tangent now. "Goblins with the gift of prophecy were venerated members of society. They lived a life of relative luxury and used several drugs to enter the trance-like state where they could prophecize. They—"

"Thank you for that lesson," Rozlynn interrupted, trying to get the monk back on track, "but I don't think it's relevant to our work."

"Of course, of course.” He absently rubbed his head while reading the rest of Rozlynn’s translation. "I think your version is more accurate than mine, Princess, thank you. I believe I can fill in some of the gaps."

Hewin took the pages and began to copy them. Both he and Princess Rozlynn kept copies of the volumes that the Princess deemed interesting. She would keep just the portions that applied to The Prophecy, adding them to her notebook. Brother Hewin would keep the entire translated volume in the library.

"What do you think this section means?" Rozlynn asked, pondering the short piece that felt otherwise out of place in the document.

"The words you are missing are part of an earlier translation I did on another section of the document. Let me see if I can put the last part together. 'When the Orc rise from corrupted spawn, the children will be the ones to cast darkness into the void forever.'

"I think this is the most accurate translation of the last part, Princess," Hewin stated. This hit home with Rozlynn, as it was confirmation of several other passages that she and Drianna agreed directly applied to the world today.

"What are Orc?" she asked the monk.

"I don't know precisely," he replied, "but the name originated with the Nordae-Grandia, and is related to failed experiments by the Lesser Wizards in the First Age. They were trying to create a race of beings and bring life into existence by themselves. This was the exclusive realm of the Gods and any attempt to do so resulted in abominations. 'Orc' is not a Goblin word, but they use it directly in the text. It's always associated with the Lesser Wizards."

"And how do you come up with 'children' and 'cast darkness into the void’ in this context?" she asked.

"I am unsure if this means 'children' or 'child,' but it could also mean 'twin' based on my understanding. As for 'cast darkness into the void,’ that is also just a little bit more than a guess, but it seems to fit the earlier translations as well. The Goblins rarely name the Dark Wizard, but refer to him as the darkness. Casting him into the void is their way of eliminating him, as they believe he is immortal and cannot be killed."

Rozlynn looked over the finished translation that Brother Hewin created the first time he dissected these pages. His version was very nearly identical to what she pulled from the ancient Goblin text.

"I think we are finished for the day," Hewin interrupted her study of the text. "How about a meal?"

"I think a meal sounds wonderful!" Darius exclaimed from the other side of the room. The Elven Hunter spoke for the first time in many hours. He was assigned to protect Princess Rozlynn whenever she left the Elven Cities of Kalystra or Alpenvail. "I swear, both of you can live on words and air when the rest of us need food and water!"

"I'm sorry, Darius.” Rozlynn meant it, and as she stood, the stiffness now settled into her joints. "Let us go down to the kitchen and see what we can find to eat."

"Dinner was many hours ago," the hungry Elven Hunter stated, "but I'm sure that Brother Andre will have something for us still on the stove."

As the three of them left the library section devoted to prophecy and descended from the tower to the lower level where the kitchen was housed, Rozlynn was beginning to harden herself to the task ahead. She felt certain that it was time for her to act. It was time to help The Prophecy along the path that would preserve the world, lest it fall into darkness for a thousand years.

"Aunt Rozlynn?" the voice was in her head, as Rozlynn was awakened from a light sleep in the pre-dawn morning.

"Yes, Lynntania, is something wrong?" Rozlynn replied.

"It's just that Mother is very upset, and is on her way to Kalystra. She was up all night packing, and she called to me moments ago using the mirrorstone. I wanted to let you know, not exactly to warn you, but you know how she can be."

Lynntania had the ability to scry with virtually any of her people, a once common trait among Elven royalty that was virtually unknown today. Her ability was augmented by green earth-stones cut from emeralds mined by the Dwarves. Each Elf living in Kalystra wore a small green stone around their neck for just this purpose.

Rozlynn absently fingered her own pendant as she replied to her niece.

"Thank you, Lynn, I appreciate the warning. I will be returning shortly, but will no longer debate The Prophecy with your mother. I know the path that I must take, and there is nothing she can say or do to stop me."

"Be strong, Aunt Rozlynn," Lynntania spoke in her mind. "If I can do anything to help—"

"I will not pull you into this, dear," she replied, "but your support means a lot to me. Thank you."

The link was broken, which meant that Lynntania was either finished or had been interrupted. Either way, it did not matter. The message was clear, and Rozlynn's resolve was set even more firmly than before. The Queen would not interfere with her next steps, but Rozlynn would not engage with her either. Let her think she was winning. Fate would keep them on the right path now.