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Impending Fate {/i}Gregory sat still, stiller than he had ever sat before. He mentally trained the energy which abounded in him to still, to calm, and to allow him to stare deeply into the glowing eyes of the seer sitting before him. It was silly. How could this be real? Not only was Neridah wrong, but she had caused him to come here and miss his daily training. Even now, his muscles tensed, ready to swing, ready to fight… But no, sit still. He must sit still. “You risk much, coming here,” the hooded figure spoke. Gregory merely nodded. “You are not a believer, I see. You cannot see the subtle fingers of fate reaching out to touch you.” As he spoke, his hand had slithered out from the folds of his robe to clasp his own. Gregory didn’t attempt to claim it back; the seer’s grip was surprisingly strong. Gregory heard the faint screaming of a woman, cut severely short. He glanced over his shoulder fearfully, but was jerked back to gaze into the darkness of the seer’s hood. “You will regret coming here…” he whispered. “I can use you… Oh, yes. I can see great use for one such as you.” Gregory ripped his hand from the seer’s grasp, his heart filled with a terror unknown to him. Up at the castle, he had no equal in combat, he feared nothing. But this, this was something entirely different. “Farewell,” he said curtly, before turning his back and stalking out. The voice followed him, as loudly as if it screamed right in his ear. “The ties which bind you will be cut. You will complete your task. No matter where you go, not matter what you do, YOU WILL KILL THE PRINCESS.” Gregory ran in terror. Something he had never done before. He denied the words in his head, chanting a mantra he hadn’t used in a long time. Just keep going, just keep going. He fled all the way through the village and towards the castle that stood, tall and forbidding, against the setting sun. Gregory burst into the throne room, golden shimmering light bathing his desperate, sweaty features. He was wild-eyed, unseeing, which is probably the reason it took him minutes to see who sat upon the princess’ throne. A deep hooded man, electric-blue sparks flickering in the depths. He stood slowly, walking towards Gregory. As he passed the torches on either side of the hall, they flickered. “Get away!” Gregory cried, his voice cracking in the shrill keen of insanity. “Gregory?” the man said innocently. “I will kill you! I WILL KILL YOU!” “What’s wrong?” the man’s voice quavered. Gregory stalked forward, fear turning to hatred, as it always does. His sword was ripped free of its sheath, held ready in his hand. This man wanted him to kill the princess, his love, his life. He would never do it, he would never touch her. She would only be safe once this man was dead. With a slash of his sword, the seer was cut down, falling down in his own bodies liquid upon the floor. Gregory stood, breathing harshly, over the body, glancing around wildly for his princess. When he found her, his heart stopped beating in his chest. An illusion, that’s all it had been. Before his eyes, the seer’s body began to shimmer and change, and soon a woman lay there, vulnerable and beautiful and dead. The scream which he had heard earlier echoed in his mind. “Neridah?” Gregory gasped. The floor hit his knees. Wait, he had fallen over. Nothing mattered anymore, only her. He had killed her. His unfocused eyes rose, to the dark figure that had materialised behind her. The seer. “I am Fate,” he said simply. Gregory fainted while Fate stood over him, smiling grimly within the depths of his hood. Humans were always so predictable. |
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