Chapter 2: The Revelation

With a voice full of pain, he cried out, "What are you? What do you want from me?"

The bright light reflected directly into his eyes, blurring his vision as he crawled backward, staring at a dark, unidentifiable human-like figure approaching him slowly. The figure replied in a deep, ominous tone:

"I... am... your... end."

Then, in one swift motion, it stretched out its sword, bringing it down at a rapid speed—

He woke up with a loud shout.

Three of his wives, startled by his cries, rushed to his side, holding him down. One of them spoke urgently, "Do not worry, my lord. It was just a dream."

But in his rage, he roared, "Leave my presence immediately! Fetch me the sorcerer!"

Terrified, the wives hurried out of the chamber and sent the guards to summon the sorcerer.

Fiona, his fourth wife, overheard the commotion and grew curious about what had so deeply unsettled the king. She lingered near his chamber, waiting for the sorcerer's arrival.

A palace maid noticed her and asked, "My mistress, is there anything you require?"

Fiona smiled faintly. "I see you wish to serve His Majesty. May I take over?"

The maid hesitated. "Is there a specific reason, ma'am?"

"Not really. I just want to do it."

The maid nodded. "Very well, my lady. Here you go. I shall assist the others now."

"Thank you, you're dismissed," Fiona said as she took the tray of food.

She stepped into the king's chamber, balancing the dish carefully. "Your Majesty, your meal is served."

The king, still visibly disturbed, looked at her and sighed. "Queen Fiona, it has been a while since we were this close. Why don't you stay with me and share this meal? Or do you still refuse to forgive me?"

She set the dish down, her gaze darkening. "You still haven't told me what happened seven years ago. Why am I broken, my lord? I have asked you time and again, yet you find ways to avoid my questions."

Before he could respond, a guard entered and bowed. "Your Majesty, the sorcerer awaits."

The king turned to Fiona. "Leave. I have important matters to discuss."

Her hands clenched into fists. "Again? You always avoid this same issue!"

His expression darkened. "I am still your king. I will not tolerate this tone from you, woman. Leave my presence now."

She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

On her way, she crossed paths with the sorcerer. In her anger, she confronted him. "You too have some explaining to do! I haven't seen you in years, and now—suddenly—you return?"

The sorcerer's expression remained unreadable. "I am here at the king's request. For the kingdom's benefit."

A nearby guard approached. "You have been summoned by the master."

As the sorcerer turned to leave, he whispered to Fiona, "He lives... He always has... And his time will come."

Confused, Fiona watched as he entered the king's chamber.

The sorcerer stood before the king and bowed slightly. "Why have you summoned me after all these years? What does Your Majesty require this time?"

The king smirked. "Come now, don't be like that. We both know how you got here."

The sorcerer scoffed. "Again with that? Haven't I already risked the stability of this kingdom due to your blackmail?"

The king laughed. "You no longer have a choice. I am your king. You must obey."

The sorcerer's jaw tightened. "What do you want?"

"I had a dream... It felt real, and I do not understand it. You must tell me what it means."

He continued, "Seven years ago, I dreamt of someone who looked like me, slaughtering my guards before killing me. You interpreted that vision and gave me a solution. I carried out the necessary actions. Tell me—is this dream connected to the one from seven years ago?"

The sorcerer sighed and placed his index and middle fingers on the king's forehead. The king stiffened. "It would be foolish of you to try anything reckless," he warned.

Moments later, their eyes began to glow as flashes of the dream replayed in both their minds. When the process ended, the king exhaled sharply.

"What was that?" he demanded.

The sorcerer withdrew his hand. "I saw your dream in flashes."

The king studied him. "You've grown powerful over the years. I must be cautious around you."

Then, leaning forward, he pressed, "Now, tell me. What does it mean?"

The sorcerer's expression was grim. "It is fate—an unchangeable fate."

The king scowled. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Fate is a moment in life that cannot be altered. That is why your enemies remain unseen—it is impossible to predict when fate will strike."

The king's face darkened with worry. "There must be something I can do."

The sorcerer smirked. "Fate has finally caught up to you. Nothing can be done."

Fury flared in the king's eyes. "If I fall, you will go down with me!"

But the sorcerer only chuckled as he turned to leave. Under his breath, he whispered, "Finally, a true king shall rise again..."