.:: DHBC : Current Chapter
This is the current chapter in progress of DHBC, or rather the first 1500 words of it written.
.:: Part One : Chapter Two
The high priestess of Ratokai, Fylynia, gives her final prophecy, which confirms what King Itak has always suspected: the age of the War Lords is near.
The festival was drawing to a close, the Ratokians trying to recover from the losses of the raid, as Itak entered the high priestess’s tent. On either hip he bounce two young girls, Zeri, the high priestess’s daughter, and Seyla, his own. He set Seyla and Zeri down, walking into the central division of the tent. He called out, “Fylynia?”
No response met him for a moment, but suddenly a loud groan ripped through the whispered silence of the tent. Itak threw back the cloth that made one of the divisions of the tent.
Fylynia lay behind the curtain, her body contorted unnaturally. Her back was arched to the ceiling, her right hand reaching for the clouds beyond the canvas of the tent. Her eyes were bloody, ragged holes within her skull and the crimson liquid that spilled out from them flowed into her black hair, lying matted against her skull. Her clothes hung from her stiff body, clothing and flesh torn viciously.
One seeing the sight of the high priestess, Seyla let out a high-pitched scream. The guards outside the tent rushed in at the sound.
“Get out,” Itak hollered at them, shoving Seyla into the arms of one of the soldiers. “Take the child and get out! Tell no one of what you’ve seen, and for the love of the gods, send for Balrick!”
The guards left hurriedly. Itak turned around and stared at the priestess and Zeri. Both remained as they were, completely immobile. “Go to her,” Itak rasped out at Zeri.
Zeri took a tiny, tentative step forward towards her mother.
Instantly, Fylynia sat up and grabbed the child’s face. Her joints cracked all at once with a sickening sound and her eyes and scratches began to bleed anew.
Zeri stood still, terrified but unable to move or to look away from the gaping sockets that once held her mother’s eyes. Blood from her mother’s hands slid down her cheeks but she was held fast by her mother.
“Listen well, young high priestess and you, King of Ratokai. Remember what I say here today,” Fylynia said. Her voice came out cracked and dry. “Kiri will bring about the age of the War Lords, but others come with her. Gods, all of them, both War Lord and not. They come to lead the three races. They come to bring balance to the worlds. Follow them, high priestess.”
Fylynia settled herself on her knees. The feverish aura about her vanished, leaving her an empty husk. “The prophecy has been given?”
“Yes,” Itak said, drawing Zeri away from her mother.
Fylynia nodded and sat with her head bowed. Her eyes stared blindly at the floor. “Balrick is coming?” Itak nodded. “Take Zeri away and clean her. Keep her safe until my ashes are scattered to the winds, and then make her high priestess.”
Itak nodded and ducked out of the tent, carrying Zeri. Fylynia remained motionless within the tent.
Balrick ran into the tent and looked at Fylynia. She looked so small and fragile kneeling on the rugs. The blood that covered her pale skin and the vacant sockets of her eyes shocked him. “Fylynia,” he whispered, picking up her tiny body.
She smiled gently at him. “I’m no longer high priestess, Balrick,” she murmured. “I gave my final prophecy. Now that is Zeri’s burden. The priests at the temple will care for her. I can follow you now, Balrick.”
“But you don’t have long to live, my love,” Balrick said as he laid her down on their bed. He quickly grabbed up a pitcher of water, a towel and a bowl. “You’ve lost so much blood… you’re still bleeding!”
“It will stop soon enough,” she said quietly. “I will live to see my prophecy begin to come to fruition.”
TBC
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