to seek the cure to aid the throne
but hear this truth—not all return
for fate is cruel and trust may burn
a Prince of Sun and Flame
without a claim
a Son of the Sea
from the blood that stains his hands he will never be free
a Healerblessed with golden light
their blade their greatest might
for a Potion Maker revered
those the Kingdom casts away shall cheer
and a Soldier whose loyalty is true
shall be the glue.
For these will be the five,
choose wisely, little Princeling,
or the person you seek to save
shall die.
Not a poem, but a prophecy?
Nose wrinkling, I read through the lines a second time and then a third before I finally glanced up to find two sets of expectant eyes carefully searching my reaction. Letting the paper slip from my fingers, I crossed my arms.
“Please explain, what in Soli's wrath, that is.”
Prince Kairen glanced once at the paper, hesitant. “A prophecy?”
“No shit,” I snapped, leaning forward and tapping the paper, “except, that’s impossible. Only Luanthians are blessed with the gift of prophecy and all the seers were hunted down and burned upon the stake.” My breaths came quick as my mind drifted to that cold dark alleyway. My eyes screwed shut against the memories that pushed and prodded.
“Yes, well,” my eyes snapped open, the Prince's face flushing with what looked like shame, “my father thought it beneficial to keep at least one alive. She is kept within the castle and this is a prophecy I personally received from her.”
My mind reeled with this information. The King had kept a seeralive?
“Who exactly is your seer?” I knew I was asking too many questions, digging far too deeply and knew that I should stop. Yet, that Goddess damned curiosity was roaring through me once more. It wasn’t oftenLuanthians with greater abilities were allowed to live. Those who had been blessed with shadows and those with a prophetic nature were generally the first to be tied to the stake when caught.
“Farrah Delmar,” the Kinslayer’s voice was smooth, his face hard as the realization dawned upon me. “My mother.”
My body grew still, stunned. The story of Roan Delmar was one that everyone within the Kingdom of Tavari had grown up hearing. But this? It certainly was not common knowledge.
Roan Delmar was the son of Jurian Delmar, a nobleman of the Luanthian court, thelastliving nobleman, to be exact. The Delmar line had bent the knee to the Solerian King when they had stolen the throne, saving themselves from being eradicated completely. A generation later, for a reason that has never truly been told, Jurian Delmar was executed for treason—despite his conversion to the Goddess Soli and his rejection of the Goddess Lua. In his death he left behind a sister, a wife, and his young son. The three were set to stand trial to beg and repent for the forgiveness of the Sun Goddess.
It was said that Roan Delmar, at just eight years of age, took twenty lashings in his repentance, but it was four years later when he would truly show his devotion.
The night of the Cleansing.
