The Foretold (*Prologue & Chapter 1 -The Coming Of The Foretold)"

The Foretold (*Prologue & Chapter 1 -The Coming Of The Foretold)"

By;fernand jiro

Prologue – The beginning

    Deep in the backwaters of the galaxy Uhmriellas was the planet, Nerep. A quiet planet that was fifth away from the sun, Crzeth. Nothing lived here. No humans, no animals, no plants, no trees, not even the hills or oceans. It was a barren landscape.

    But then came the Contai, the very source of magic and life. The Contai started as a tiny speck of incandescent light that grew and grew with every passing minute, until it was a large, never ending stream of energy. It poured its power into the land around it; turning the once barren wasteland into a rich world full of trees and birds, flowers, seas, mountains and people. Every living thing was created out of its power.

    Lastly it created the three bloodlines, the Contai’s true descendants. The first bloodline represented the royal families, whose job was to govern the land and look after the people. The second for the Remembrancers who looked back into the past and remembered how it once was.  And the third created the Seers who were chosen to see all the possible futures.

    Everything was going as planned, the people were happy and the land flourished. Death, grief and illness were just shadows of a nightmare, for they did not exist. Peace ruled and the very notion of war was banished to the Never-World where all evil things dwelt. The creators of the Contai were called the Gods, and the people worshipped and prayed to them. Nerep was a paradise.

    That was until Ardanten, son of King Reften of Threll and Seer Agaldenna became a remembrancer. On his nineteenth birthday he saw the past by accident. Lost in folds of time he was gripped by the Contai’s beginning. By coming a Remembrancer it meant that the three sacred bloodlines had clashed.

    Legend warned that when the three met in one, something terrible would happen, and so it did. For this day was now a cursed day, this day was the day of the birth of Livved, Goddess of evil, Queen of the underworld. Every thing evil that had been banished was now free. Death and illness prayed on the old and weak. War broke out between old friends, and slowly the world began to fall into a darkness let loose by Livved. Poor Ardanten was enslaved and his soul bound to her will. His parents were heart-broken and pleaded to the kingdom’s royal Seer and Remembrancer for help.

    The Seer looked into the future and prophesised that the prince would only be freed when a remembrancer, seer and royal became one. The Remembrancer agreed and added that because the three bloodlines had already clashed and Livved was free, that it would have the reverse effect when the Foretold and the Doomed one met. With that to mull over the two left the despairing parents alone.

     And so the years rolled on, and stille the Foretold was unborn. The King and Queen soon passed away and the royal Seer and Remembrancer along with them, but legend and prophecy remained, written down in the great libraries of Nerep and retold by travellers and merchants. in the first ten years after Livved's freedom the story had gone around Nerep, and so had her cruelty and malice. The whole world willed for the coming of the Foretold, willed for a chance of freedom; for a day when none had to fear the coming of night; Nerep wished to be peaceful once more.

   

1  The coming of the Foretold

 

 

    The last day in summer was ending in a cold evening in the kingdom of Ksaih. The wind rolled off the Goryre mountain range in the north, sending icy blasts of frost across the land. The winds heralded the coming of winter and longer dark nights. Dark nights were when Livved reigned.  Livved was known as the Goddess of evil, Queen of the underworld. Her power was reduced in full daylight so she waited until night to send out her cruelty. People feared Livved, so they feared the dark. Nobody went out at night unless they had to. If they did they tried to make their camp near a river or lake, because flowing water was a magical barrier against evil. Silver was also a good ward against malevolent forces.

    As night slowly began to creep in and people started to make their way indoors, the cousin of the king, Thrallin, started to worry at his daughter’s absence. Where was she? Surely she had enough sense to come in after nightfall. Worried, he grabbed his coat and went out to find Emriella.

    Emriella was sat by the riverbank in Vrannen wood, painting. She loved to sit by the babbling stream and paint the beautiful landscape that was all around her. Her picture showed the edge of the wood, looking out onto the farm below. In the distance were the Goryre Mountains, dark clouds of rain above them, threatening to burst at any moment. Emriella looked up at the sky that was just visible through the trees. A dark twilight blue met her eyes. Almost dark she thought. She shrugged; she did not fear the dark like everyone else. Anyway, she was relatively safe next to the running water of the stream. Her thoughts were interrupted by a man’s shout.

    “Emriella!”

    Emriella sighed, recognising the voice to be her father’s.

    “Coming father!” she shouted back, slipping her painting into its protective covering and picking up her inks.

    It was then that she realised how cold the ground was. Her legs were stiff from cramp and bits of early night dew had settled on her hair as the air began to moisten. Grimacing at the pain she stood up and shook her head from side to side, freeing her hair from the dew.

    She set off at a fast walk down the path that led through the wood to the other side, where her father, Thrallin, was waiting. She was about halfway through the wood, when the shout was audible again, but this time the call contained more urgency and anxiety than before.

    “Emriella! Where are you?”

    She sighed obviously her shout hadn’t reached the ears of her waiting father.

    “I’m here father! I’m coming, just wait.” Emriella shouted back, louder this time to make sure that her voice carried far enough to be heard from the edge of the wood. She then set off at a run.

 

    On the other side of the wood, where the city of Ksaih met the Vrannen, stood Thrallin. He shivered with the cold that the bitter northern wind sent – it was probably already winter there. Making sure that with the coming of night that he was near the fast flowing stream of the Vrannen. He was positive that his daughter would be somewhere in these woods. Ever since she old enough to go exploring on her own she had spent most of her free time here.

    Looking up at the darkening sky, Thrallin cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Emriella!” His shout was loud and he was convinced it had been loud enough to hear from the other side. He waited patiently as he heard his voice reverberate through the trees. After a while of waiting with no reply Thrallin grew increasingly anxious. “Emriella! Where are you?” he shouted again, unable to keep the anxiety he felt out of his voice.

    A reply came almost immediately afterwards, faint and seemingly far off, but audible. “…Here father…coming…wait!”

He sighed as he heard the calm, comforting voice of his seventeen-year-old daughter.

    Approximately four or five minutes later Emriella appeared from out of the woods, painting and inks in her hand. She looked out of breath but manage to smile when she saw her father. Thrallin ran up to her and hugged her tightly. He then let go of her and gripped her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes. The smile faded from Emriella’s face as she met his stern gaze, she knew she was in trouble.

    “Emriella what have I told you about coming here at night?” demanded Thrallin, giving her a slight shake. Emriella’s gaze didn’t shift as she answered.

    “Sorry father. I forgot.”

    “You forgot!” exclaimed Thrallin, shaking her again. “Emriella you know well enough that it’s not safe to be out after dark! What were you thinking?” he demanded, his grip on her shoulders tightening.

    “I wanted to finish my painting and I guess I lost track of time. Anyway I was safe near the river!” she said defiantly.

    “Stream, Emriella, it’s a stream. And it’s only a suspicion that running water wards evil. I don’t want you to be the first to test it,” said her father relaxing his grip a little.

    “Stream then! But you still believe in it. Why else would you be standing so close to the river bank!” Emriella replied, trying to twist out of his grip. “And anyway, I’m not afraid of the dark like you.”

    At this Thrallin let go of his daughter. He was taken aback, that sounded so much like her mother, Emellann.

    “You’re just like you mother,” he said laughing. He put an arm around Emriella.

    “We should get back home before they shut the gate,” said Emriella looking at the sky.

    “We better had,” agreed her father, leading her back up the path towards the city. “But Emriella promise me that you won’t come here after dark. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

    It was customary for the cities to shut their main gate just after sundown. This was to stop troublemakers from entering the city at night. It was also a good defence against invasion. They met the guard as he was locking up. He was about to refuse them entry when he saw it was the cousin of the king who wished passage.

    “Sorry sir. Thought you were someone else. It’s not safe to be out late,” he said with a sweeping gesture of his arm.

    “It’s alright Kardinn,” replied Thrallin. “You’re only doing your job. Nice to know it’s still being done properly. I’m only out because Emriella was painting.” He looked down at her and she smiled back, all signs of their previous argument had vanished.

    “You been painting again miss?” asked the guard politely.

    “Yes,” she replied handing her father her inks and getting out the picture. Kardinn looked down at it in awe. The young lady possessed talent.

    “That’s brilliant! You have the makings of an artist, doesn’t she sir.”

     "Indeed she does," answered her father, seeing the picture for the first time. It was clear now why she had wanted so badly to finish it. Emriella blushed slightly with the praise. She replaced the covering and took back the inks Thrallin held.

    “Well, we’d better be going Emriella. Please pass my regards onto your wife,” said Thrallin, once again slipping his arm around his daughter’s shoulders

    “I will do that sir,” replied Kardinn, making sure the lock on the gate was fast.

    That evening as Emriella lay in bed, she heard a soft sound of someone playing the flute. It was being played so quietly that it was obvious the player did not wish to arouse people sleeping. She threw off the blanket, grabbed a shawl and went out onto the balcony to see who the flautist was. As she leaned over the rail she knocked a stone off onto the ground below. The musician stopped and looked up. Her father’s face met her eyes.

    “Emriella?” He put his flute down and stood up. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

    “Oh. No, no. I was awake anyway and I heard you playing. That was beautiful,” she said brushing her hair out of her face.

    Thrallin smiled. “Come down,”

    Emriella nodded then disappeared. She reappeared moments later in the flower gardens and sat on the wall next to her father.

    “I liked that tune. What was it called?” she asked curiously. Thrallin stared ahead of him into space. He then looked back at her and smiled one of his brilliant smiles.

    ”It was called ‘Sonata of Roses’. I wrote it for your mother before she died,” he answered, his eyes seeing some far off memory.

    “Oh,” said Emriella quietly, she knew how painful it was for him to talk about her. Emriella had hardly known her mother when she died. She had only been five at the time of her passing. And even before that, she’d always been away on special ‘Remembrancer’ business.

    As the two sat there, a faint hint of rose hung in the air. Emriella smiled as the wind caressed her cheeks with its slightly frosty fingers. She shivered as they touched her.

    “Time for bed,” declared Thrallin, suddenly standing up. “Come on,” he said gesturing for her to follow him back inside. Warmth greeted her as she stepped inside the hallway. Back in her room the fire burned brightly, seeing that the late night chill disappeared. Emriella once again got under her blanket. She heard footsteps approach her door.

    “Good night,” said Thrallin, poking his head around the door.

    “Goodnight,” answered Emriella, closing her eyes and falling into a deep sleep.

    The next morning, Hodrœ, the frost god had laid a light cloak of frost upon the land. It’s pointy edges glinting in the light of the rising sun. The Vrannen was now beginning to slow with the onset of colder weather. Its running water enough to ward the lesser of Livved’s servants, but a mere distraction to those of greater power. A blackbird was singing high in a tree. His morning song trilling on the north wind; Emriella woke to this sound. She lay there in her bed, staring at the ceiling. Though she loathed to get out of her warm bed, she forced herself to get up. Walking towards the curtains, she pulled them back to reveal a nice sunny morning. The eastern sun shining golden on her face.

    Looking out of her window, Emriella could see; the rose gardens, the gravelled streets, the early morning merchants setting up stalls in the square, preparing to sell their wares. She could see the outer walls and their silver gates. The wall would stop troublemakers from entering the city, but the silver would ward – if only lightly – Livved and her servants. If Emriella looked to the west, she could see the palace, where her uncle King Jothen and his wife Queen Yienrall ruled. It was also where her annoying cousin Thoerenn lived.

    Further west, just visible as a thin strip of blue-green was the Alamacunn Sea. The sea there could get very wild in the winter. The waters were dangerous to navigate, as the weather could turn at any moment. Even in the summer, far out at sea, one minute it could be as calm as a pond, the next it could be wild with a squall. The Alamacunn Sea proved a worthy challenge for many a sailor, and even those who were use to its turbulent waves had trouble taming her.

    Emriella sighed; her soul longed to see what was across the wall, across borders of the Ksaih kingdom. She knew that danger was a-plenty across the border – thieves, murderers, and all things evil, especially Livved, lurked out there. Waiting. Waiting to claim the unwary as their victim. But none of this put her off the idea of travelling. The only thing that stopped her was her father, Thrallin. He hated travel, hated the outside world. Those dangers had claimed his wife and left him alone with Emriella, because of this she stayed. She did not wish to leave him alone with nothing and no one.

    A crash interrupted her thoughts. It came from down stairs. Pivoting on the heel of her foot, she ran out of her room and down the stairs. Shouting could be heard from the kitchen. Curious, Emriella went to investigate. Inside a pile of pots and pans had been knocked over. Thrallin and the cook were arguing loudly.

    “You come in here, looking for the breakfast, which I am preparing and knock all my pans onto the floor!” exclaimed the cook waving a ladle wildly.

    “If the handles hadn’t have been sticking out I wouldn’t have walked into them,” Thrallin protested, trying to avoid getting hit by the ladle.

    “If you looked where you were going you wouldn’t have walked into them in the first place. You may be the king’s cousin, but in here I am boss,” said the cook, pointing the ladle at him. The cook was called Neeva. She was a plump woman who did not like to be disturbed when she was preparing a meal. She also disliked people being late to dinner, royalty or not.

    “Out! You’ll get your breakfast when it’s done!”

    “Okay, okay,” said Thrallin, holding his hands up in surrender and backing out of the door. It banged shut behind him. Emriella was stood next to him, a mischievous grin on her face.

    ” What happened there?”

    Her father looked at her then back at the door and shrugged. “All I did was ask if breakfast was ready,”

    “And knock all her pans off in the process,” Emriella added. “What’s for breakfast then, or didn’t you get that far?”

    “Soup I think. Why else would she have a ladle?” said Thrallin walking into the dinning room.

    “Really? I thought the ladle was for hitting you with,” mocked his daughter.

    Her father looked at her then burst out laughing. “You’re probably right. She’s lethal with that thing!”

    Breakfast was served about ten minutes later by a bad tempered cook. Thrallin’s guess had been right, it was soup. Emriella spooned the hot liquid into her mouth. Its warmth sliding down her throat and giving her a warm, tingling sensation in her bones. Neeva’s soup was one to be reckoned with. In Emriella’s opinion there was none that could match it.

    A letter came while they were eating. The royal messenger delivered it, so it must have been of some importance. Thrallin broke the seal with his thumb and read the letter aloud:

     "Dear Thrallin and Emriella,

             You are here by invited to Prince Thoerenn's eighteenth birthday theast. It will be held at the palace in five days. The celebrations will start at noon and finish later on in the evening. After the feast there will be a grand dance. There willbe plenty of music and dancing for all!

     Just present this invitation to one of the palace guards and they will show you where to go. We hope to see you there. I fyou have any problems, please let us know beforehand.

                                                                         Yours Faithfully,

                                                                                              KIng Jothen & Queen Yienrall

 

    “Well that’s nice of them.” Said Thrallin folding up the letter and putting it back in the envelope.

    “Yeah, I know. I get to spend a whole day with my wonderful cousin, Thoerenn!” replied Emriella sarcastically.

   ”Emriella!” said her father shocked. “I know you don’t like him, but there is no need to be like that. You should have a bit more respect. It’s an honour to be invited to such a grand occasion.” He gave her a stern look.

    Emriella held his gaze for a moment then looked down at her bowl. “Sorry. He just gets on my nerves!” she apologised. The two then finished their breakfast. Emriella taking the bowls back, as Thrallin wasn’t on good terms with Neeva at the moment.

    Over the next few days Emriella was extremely busy. So busy that she hardly had any time to paint. She had to find a dress for the feast, which required spending a full day at the dressmaker’s stall. Not that the day went to waste.  When Paulo, the dressmaker, had finished, Emriella had a beautiful crimson dress. Emriella had picked the crimson material, as it was the most beautiful shade imaginable. Paulo had also said that it went well with her eyes and skin tone. It had a low neckline, which had dainty little glass beads embroidered onto it. The sleeves came down to her hands in like a ‘v’ shape on one side. Paulo had assured her that that was the fashion at the moment. The dress almost came down to the floor, its skirts swishing this way and that every time she moved. Emriella adored it. She thanked Paulo and paid him the money, more than he’d asked for.

    “Er…Miss Emriella, you’ve made a mistake. I only said two gold and seven silver Rujacks not three gold.”

    “Keep it. You did and excellent job on my dress. It’s brilliant!” said Emriella smiling. She picked up her dress that was neatly wrapped up. Paulo smiled as she walked away.

    With that out of the way Emriella just needed a present. She and her father spent the next two days searching for a good one. They found this nearly impossible.

    “How about a sword?” asked Emriella hopefully. She was fed up with looking for a present for her cousin.

    “No, the King got him one last year. Hmmmm…What would and eighteen year old prince want?” said her father, deep in thought. As he looked up he saw, a man carrying a picture of one of the guards.

    “That’s it!” he cried, grabbing Emriella and dancing for joy.

    “What’s it?”

    “You could paint a picture of Thoerenn!”

    “Are you sure? I mean am I really that good?” asked his daughter, trying to get him to stop dancing about and let go of her.

    “Yes! It’ll be brilliant, trust me!” said her father stopping to look at her.

    “Okay then, if you’re sure,” she sighed walking back towards their large house.

    And so the next day was spent painting a portrait of Thoerenn. Though Emriella disliked her cousin, she put all her effort into creating a portrait of him. She found this quite difficult, as she had to go off memory and not the real person. But in the end, with a few corrections, it was done. The picture showed Thoerenn sitting on a fine brown stallion. He was in his fighting gear, with a sword in his hand. Emriella had to improvise there, as she had never seen the sword up close. She showed it to her father and they both agreed that it was the best present they could have got him. Before wrapping it up Thrallin wrote a note:

     To Thoerenn,

                We hope you like this picture. Emriella put a lot of work into this. We would also like to wish you a very happy eighteenth birthday

                                 Yours,

                                          Uncle Thrallin & Emriella

The picture was then wrapped in a protective oilskin to stop water from damaging the paint. They then went to bed so that they could get up early the

next day.

    When Emriella awoke she felt tired after painting all yesterday. There was a slight ache in her right arm and neck. Forcing herself out of bed, she went to the basin and splashed cold water on her face. Opening her wardrobe, Emriella got out her crimson dress and laid it on her bed. She then grabbed a towel and went into the bathing room. Pouring some sweet scents into the water she washed her hair. When she came out she smelled of wild indigo and her hair had curled in long strands, framing her face. The ache in her neck had gone but her arm still hurt slightly when she moved it quickly.

   Downstairs Thrallin was waiting for his daughter. He was dressed smartly in a tunic and jerkin and leather trousers. He was also wearing his best brown boots. He spun round when he heard someone coming down the stairs.

    “Emriella, you look beautiful!” he exclaimed, taking her by the hand.” That crimson colour suits you. Where ever did you find such a lovely dress?”

    “Paulo, the tailor, made it me. I love it!” replied Emriella smiling.

    “Have you got the present?”

    “Oh, I’ll just go and get it.” Emriella said, dashing back upstairs. Her skirts swishing round her ankles. She came back down moments later with the painting under one arm.

    “Ready?”

    Emriella nodded. They then set off towards the palace.

    They arrived there at quarter to eleven. Even though the festivities didn’t start until noon, there was still quite a large queue at the visitors’ entrance.  A guard stopped them at the gate. Thrallin showed him the letter and the guard nodded and said,

    ”Good morning sir, miss. Just go up the pathway and turn right. There’s a door on the right hand side. Hyunn’s the guard on duty there, he’ll show you where to go.”

    “Thank you,” replied Thrallin, taking the path that the guard had pointed out. Being the King’s cousin meant that they didn’t have to queue up with the others. Emriella had been in the palace many times before, mostly when it had been someone’s birthday, or some other special occasion. The palace was very grand; it had four large, spiralling towers, each one facing either north, east, south or west. It had marble staircases with highly polished wooden banisters on each floor. Emriella was positive that there were many hidden passageways, behind portraits and fireplaces, but she had no way of proving it. Every time she was about to discover one, someone would call her name and disturb her investigations.

    They came to the door then. It was a grand door made from oak and fine, intricate patterns were carved onto it. Hyunn was there, polishing his sword. He stopped and stood to attention as they approached.

    “Right this way sir,” he said leading them down a long hallway. The hallway opened out into a large room, covered with a red carpet. There was a table in the centre of it.

    “Please wait here. I will alert the King of your presence, Sir Thrallin,” Hyunn then disappeared through another door at the opposite end of the room.

    “Thrallin, Emriella!” cried Queen Yienrall, rushing up to her cousin and niece.

    “Yienrall,” said Thrallin embracing her. King Jothen and his son, Prince Thoerenn then appeared.

   “Thrallin, good to see you!” said the king clapping him on the shoulder. ”Emriella, you look lovely. That colour matches your eyes.” He said, beaming down at her. The king was a tall man and even Thrallin had to look up to look into his eyes. Emriella blushed.

    “Prince Thoerenn, here’s your present," said Emriella presenting the painting to him. “Happy birthday,” she added as an afterthought.

    Thoerenn took it off her and began to unwrap the oilskin. He smiled as he saw the painting. He held it to the light for examination.

    “That is excellent!” exclaimed Yienrall. “Did you paint that Emriella?” she asked. Emriella nodded.

    “You’ve not got the sword quite right, Emriella. It has a snake on the hilt, with jewelled eyes. It also has different markings on the blade,” criticised Thoerenn. Emriella scowled at him. She saw her father frowning at her so she altered her scowl into a smile.

    ”Well I’ve never seen your sword properly so I had to improvise,” commented Emriella, annoyed that he had to find fault with her painting.

    All the way through dinner Emriella had to listen to Thoeren’s boasting. She was getting so fed up she was beginning to wish she’d never come.

    “…And then I parried left and thrust right,”

    “Really, Thoerenn. I had no idea!” she replied sarcastically.

    Once everyone had eaten, Emriella seized her chance to get away from Thoerenn. Whilst they were busy dancing, she could go and explore that secret passageway way in the west wing that she’d always wanted to. She had just moved the portrait of Irelk the Second when someone said, “and just what do you think you’re doing?”

    She wheeled round, the portrait in her hands. Thoerenn was stood there smirking. “Now I’ve got you,” he said, walking up to her and grabbing the sleeve of her dress.

    “Thoerenn! What are you doing here?” asked Emriella pulling the sleeve out of his grip. He must have followed her.

    “I’ve got a good mind to ask you the same question,” said Thoerenn.

    Suddenly there was a shout further down the corridor and a clash of metal. The two looked in the direction of the sound. Emriella suddenly got a strange sense of déjà vu, and images came flooding into her mind.

    “Run!” she screamed.

    Thoerenn looked at her puzzled. “What?”

    “Run! An assassin is coming after you. He’s going to throw a dagger at your head!”

    No sooner than the words had left her mouth, a throwing knife came whistling through the air. Emriella, using her quick wits, shoved the painting in front of her cousin. The knife hit the painting, sticking right through Irelk the Second’s head. Thoerenn looked at her then at the dagger in surprise. He set off at a sprint down the corridor, Emriella at his heels. Guards rushed passed them, trying to catch the assassin. Thoerenn heard something rip as his arm caught on a suit of armour. He pulled at it frantically, finally it came loose. He felt warm blood trickling down his arm, but he ignored it and carried on running.

    The two ran into the dance room, out of breath. The music stopped and everyone turned to look at them.

    “Thoerenn!” cried Yienrall rushing over to him. “What happened?” asked his mother, fussing with his torn sleeve.

    “Mother! I’m fine. It’s only a rip. An assassin tried to kill me,” answered Thoerenn. Several guards came in then, the would-be assassin caught in their hands. He had jet-black hair and was wearing a brown jerkin and a white shirt. He scowled hard at the young prince.

    “Take him to the dungeons!” commanded the King.

Emriella and Thoerenn were slumped against a wall, their chests heaving.

    “How did you know he was going to attack me?” asked Thoerenn. He looked at her curiously. It was then that the truth of it all became clear. She had seen into the future.