Chapter 6
It was
still dark when Brythia woke him. She
had been crying.
“The
equinox arrives soon,” she said in soft whisper. “There is much to be done.” She had brought some pillows with her, which
she used to prop up Tolian. He looked
about the dark camp; it was deserted but for Brythia and himself. He had to try.
“Please let
me go, before the others get back,” he pleaded.
Brythia
sobbed, and shook her head no.
“I
c-c-c-cannot,” she finally got out.
“Please?”
he begged again.
Brythia
assembled her composure, “You do not understand what you ask, my love. I shall do my best to explain to you.”
“If you
must,“ Tolian said wearily.
“A thousand
years ago,” the druidess said, “there lived a man named Brythic. Brythic was one of the first of our order. I
was named after him, as I am a descendant of his. He excelled in the art and practice of
divinations above other magicks. There
has never since been a prophet of greater power or accuracy. His greatest legacy is his Druidic
Prophecies. These prophecies are passed
on orally, and are taught to all who enter the order.
“Brythic
prophesied events, which have each, as the appropriate time has arrived, come
true. Without exception.”
“Impressive,
if true.”
“I assure
you as to the truth of my statements. I
fear you above others shall learn the truth of his words. The prophecy regarding the End of the World
goes as follows:
“On the
Night of the Equinox, in the Year of the Bear, when three great comets fill the
air. Mark this date well, my children,
mark it well. It is the beginning of the
end of the World.
“A Demon
shall enter into human flesh in the Entrine Desert. No power can stop this. He shall lead vast armies into War, and bring
great kingdoms to ruin. He shall surround
himself with death and suffering.
“By the
time of the Solstice — He shall
be Lord of the North.
“By the
time of the Spring Equinox — The skies shall turn black and the blood of the dead shall
issue from the Earth. These are the Last
of Days.
“Against
this end there is one Hope: A Champion like no other.
“The Demon
shall be mighty, but not indestructible:
“He can be
killed by no man, and by none born female.
No metal of the Earth shall harm him.
He shall be slain by one born of the dead, in a day not in the year.”
A chill
passed through Tolian. He was shaken to
the core of his being by Brythia’s words.
The words of the Druidic Prophecy.
He tried to
sound casual, “Well, I’m sure its full of historical interest and the like but
surely in this day and age of civilization, we can’t allow foolish superstition
to guide our actions. You don’t even
know for sure that this Demon person even exists.”
Brythia was
so serious, “He exists. He has existed
since the World was created. He has
waited for his chance. It arrives
tonight. This is the Year of the Bear by
the Druidic calendar. You probably haven’t
noticed but there are already two comets in the sky, they have been there for
about two weeks. Tonight a third appears
in the Northern sky. There is no
mistake. We have known the exact date of
his coming for three centuries now.”
“Surely,
your time would be better spent up North in the Entrine Desert, trying to
prevent his arrival,” Tolian said.
“Didn’t you
listen to the prophecy. ‘No power can
stop this.’ ”
“I don’t
see why not.”
“I’ll try
and explain it to you,” Brythia said. “We
won’t know for sure how the Demon will enter into human flesh, until it
occurs. We cannot sit about the vast desolation
of the Entrine Desert waiting, investigating everyone. Besides, even if we attempted such a plan, we
are advised by the prophecy that we would fail.
No matter what, the Demon shall come.
We will not be able to detect him until he begins to manifest.”
“You didn’t
have any trouble finding me,” Tolian said.
“That’s
because we have kept a careful vigilance upon your whereabouts since you were
born,” Brythia replied.
Tolian
shook his head. “Why me? Frankly the
prophecy seemed to be somewhat contradictory regarding this Champion.”
“When is
your birthday?” Brythia asked him.
“It’s in
three weeks.”
“No it isn’t,”
Brythia replied.
“What do
you mean? I think I know when my
birthday is.”
“Apparently
not. You were born on the Lybric Day,
the day that is added to the calendar every four years, between the Autumnal
Equinox and Samhain, to make the calendar balance with the movements of the
Sun.”
“Well,
sure. But we celebrate it every year the
day after when the Lybric Day would fall, except, of course, every four years.”
Brythia
nodded, “So you must admit, that you were born on a day not in this Year.”
Tolian
disagreed vehemently, “That’s just plain silly, there must have been thousands
of people born on Lybric Day, in Lorm alone, over the years.”
“Yes, that
is true, but how many were `born of the dead’?”
“I’m pretty
sure that I was born of my mother,” Tolian said.
“Of course,
you were. Did no one tell you the
unusual nature of your birth?”
Tolian fell
silent. Yes, he had been told. It was a miracle that he was born. His mother had died, two hours into labor
from hemorrhaging. It was quick thinking
on the part of the midwife that saved Tolian.
Once the queen was dead, the midwife cut the infant Tolian from his
mother’s womb. Somehow, and even the
physicians were uncertain as to how, Tolian survived. But, in a strictly literal sense, he was born
of the dead. As this realization struck
his brain, he swallowed in disbelief.
“I see that
you were told,” Brythia said. “You see,
you fit the prophecy perfectly. When
news of your birth reached the Druid High Council, they knew you were the
Champion prophesied.”
“Wait a
second,” Tolian said dubiously, “But the prophecy also says that no man can
kill this Demon.”
“And none
born female,” Brythia added.
“Well, I
wasn’t born female. But, I definitely am
a man.”
Tolian
could see that this was getting hard for her.
Obviously, this was the part of the whole plan that bothered her the
most.
Tears
poured from her eyes, “I’m so sorry, my love.
Believe me. But there is no other
way.”
“No other
way?”
“For
centuries our greatest minds have been studying the prophecy. They devised a plan, about two hundred years
ago to deal with the situation. They
have perfected a magickal formula that will enable you to meet the requirements
of the prophecy.”
She paused
and looked lovingly into his eyes, “When we reach Hyge Bryth, the seat of
Druidic Power, a process will begin that will transform you.”
Tolian
swallowed hard, and asked, “Transform me in to what?”
Brythia
turned her gaze to the ground, she plucked nervously at some grass, “You will
be transformed into a woman.”
Tolian felt
himself grow cold inside. It wasn’t
possible. It was insane. A thousand thoughts raced feverishly through
his mind. She had to be joking. She wasn’t joking. An unspeakable horror engulfed him. A woman?
Thoughts of escape danced feverishly in his brain.
“Please,”
he said, nearly crying. “You can’t let
them. You’ve got to help me escape.”
Brythia
embraced him, she was crying more than he was.
She hugged him tightly.
“I cannot
help you,” she said. “You must be
strong. You must accept your
destiny. The fate of the World rests
upon your being brave and accepting this.
You must.”
“Accept
being turned into a woman? You people
have got to be out of your minds. I am
Tolian of the House of Hemris, Heir to the throne of Lorm. I am a prince. I am a man.
I will never allow myself to be lowered into such a state of degradation. I swear to you I will die first. There must be some other way.”
“There is
no other way. You will not be a man, and
you weren’t born female. You will meet
the requirements of the Champion in all respects. It must be so, though I wish with my heart
otherwise. If I were to assist you in
escaping we will be dead by the Spring.
Don’t you understand that? All that is good in the World will cease to
be. You have to understand. This is more important than our happiness, or
your embarrassment or discomfort.”
“Embarrassment? Discomfort?”
Tolian replied. “You’re talking about taking away my manhood, and you
use words like those.”
Brythia
grew somewhat indignant, “You don’t have much of an opinion of a woman’s worth,
do you? You see us as lowly creatures of
no use! You will come to learn
otherwise, soon enough. I am sorry. There is nothing I can do.”
She got up
and walked into the forest.
Tolian
struggled with his binds. It was of no
use. Myrthis had tied him securely.
He lay there,
alone, watching the Equinox sunrise in the East. The sunrise was spectacular, with its
crimsons, purples and pinks gradually ceding as the golden light of the Sun
poured through the sky. The sun and the
rest of nature seemed to sing a song of hope, yet Tolian had never felt so
miserable in his entire life. He had
reached a decision, though. At the first
opportunity that presented itself, he would end his own life. He was not going to suffer the humiliation
and degradation that these mad druids and druidesses had planned for him. At that moment he couldn’t care less about
the fate of the world. The world would
have to find a way of taking care of itself.
Tolian, Prince of Lorm, was not going to be mutated into female form.
Once he had
resigned himself to death, he felt better. He was quite positive that sooner or
later some chance would come to him, some window of action. He would keep at his most alert, his eyes
always searching for an opportunity. A
time would come, it had to. He had dismissed
the notion of escape. He had seen the powers
of these women at work. They had every
creature and tree in the forest to help them.
He was certain that they would track him and find him easily. They could make him move against his will,
they could make him do unspeakable things against his will but they couldn’t
make him cooperate. Not willingly anyway. He would bide his time and wait for his
chance.
Copyright 2002, 2015 Diana Hignutt.
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