The Prophecy

Who am I?

He kept his hand on my shoulder, keeping my thoughts clear. Odd fragments came to me in pieces. Faces, places, names. But they were like fleeting clouds. They came and went, leaving me with vague impressions.

Fear. Desperation. Determination. Anger. Hate. These emotions bounced around in my head, leaving with only one certainty: I was confused.

I stumbled over rocky terrain. Jagged stones cut my robes, lightly scraping my legs. It was unsettlingly familiar. But before too long, we reached a long, winding river. The water was transparent, revealing scattered trinkets at the bottom.

Something caught my eye: a necklace with a small medallion on it. Engraved on it was a rising sun at its zenith.

"Xenith." The word popped into my head. I spoke it aloud, my mouth moving with smooth familiarity before I even knew it. The medallion seemed to glow in front of me. Inviting me to grab it. Tempting me. I looked at Thanatos. He kept his hand firmly on my shoulder, but he too was staring into the water, thinking. I reached into the water for the necklace.

"NO!" Thanatos lunged for me as I stumbled out of his grasp, but it was too late. Painful echos of lost memories wailed through my head as soon as the water touched my skin. They yearned to be with me again. I felt fuzzy, unable to comprehend the sheer mass of memories, but still, I sunk deeper in the water. The medallion called to me like nothing else, and I couldn't resist.

I touched it, and my vision turned black.

I was 16 again. I heard a door shudder and a sound thundered around the room. It was a small room, and in front of me was a wooden door. I pressed my back against the wall, afraid for my life. I felt a sense of encroaching doom.

Then, the door bent with a horrifying crunch. Splinters flew in all directions. I raised my arms to defend myself, screaming as several lodged themselves painfully in my forearms.

When I lowered my arms, a dark figure was standing before me. He held a long inky black blade in his hand.

"Have fun dying."

I didn't even see him move before the blade slashed against my throat. There was initially no pain as I felt the sharp edge of the knife easily slice through my flesh. But I felt it when my shirt was soaked with a hot liquid. I clamped my teeth on my tongue, biting it painfully, as I tried not to scream. Blood filled my mouth, cutting off my oxygen. Breathing only sucked the blood into my lungs, exacerbating the problem. I cried out for the man from before, but the sound of my plea stuck in my throat, and blood mixed with saliva gurgled out of the gash. The black figure only cackled with sinister glee as I slumped to the ground.

Death. I felt the total finality of death. But, somehow, I was alive. I was lying on a boat, groggy as if I had just risen from a long slumber. The boat rocked gently, soothing my nerves. I was confused, but strangely sure of what would happen. Above, I peered into a red sky.

I calmly stepped on the boat and followed the crying and wailing souls towards an intimidating sight. Cerberus. His three heads glared down at us as we passed below his scaly belly. His third head kept it's grim gaze on me with hateful red eyes, but let me pass. I thought it was strange, but there was no time to reflect as I reached the judging room.

Before me was a tall and imposing podium. Elaborate carvings covered the surface, depictions of various parts of the underworld. I recognized most of it from my father's teachings, but my attention was drawn to the dark silhouettes above.

"You… should not be here." A loud and commanding voice came from above.

"What shall we do?" Their voice was quieter, but equally as authoritative. It was followed by a long pause. I stood and waited, staring at the Judges that would determine my fate. I was slightly worried about their confusion. But, I felt resigned. I had already died and there wasn't much I was able to do that could change my fate.

I suddenly felt something pull at my soul, and I suddenly was catapulted violently through a large white gate. I twisted up and down, left and right, as a wispy white string dragged me to my destination. With a screeching halt, I landed hard on the ground, rocks and dirt scattering around me. Before me were three ancient women, their eyes gray and hair thin. In their wrinkled and withered hands was a white string. They stared at one frayed end as it disintegrated into dust. Everything was still around them. It felt like the very air was scared to anger them. My legs went weak from the tension and pressure surrounding them.

"Our tapestry is ruined," cried the rightmost one. Her voice was soft, but it carried tremendous power, power that willed even gods to obey.

"It is the work of those cursed ones," replied the middle one. She pulled the string taut in anger. I could see a white aura begin to surround her.

The last stared directly at me, her eyes piercing through my soul. From behind her back, she pulled out a long shear, the sharp edges pristine and gleaming. She pointed it at me, her eyes glazed over.

"Where the blood of leporum flows,

Trusted allies turn to bitter foes.

On quaky belief, tainted truth unfolds,

Trust and a twisted past corrodes.

Set on a path to make this right,

A choice to consider with all your might;

To destroy the sacred trusted gift,

Or to see the awakening of Hell's rift.