Chapter 4: Prophecy
Instinct grabbed hold of Usara as she spun round and jabbed the end of her newly acquired staff straight at the newcomer, who toppled backwards and fell with a sickening crash on a stack of wooden boxes. Even though Usara realised he was a human, she did not hasten into apologies. “How dare you sneak up on me! What are you doing here?” she hissed. The man, however, hid his face and mumbled his apologies. He wore a tattered deerskin overcoat over a brown shirt and trousers. But his face was almost completely obscured by his long, untidy brown hair, which made him look like someone who had not seen civilisation for three decades and had lived in a cave.
“My apologies, but I suggest you keep quiet! Do you know what becomes of me if I don’t keep my silence? And then you come in start jabbing people with the One Staff? Good heavens!” he hissed, red in face and thunderous. Usara, on the other hand, was more intrigued by this man’s knowledge of her staff.
“How did you come to know about the staff?” she enquired. This was the perfect question, she reasoned: not only did it ask about the One Staff, but it also forced the man to tell her more about himself without Usara looking too curious.
“What do you go by?”
“Usara.”
“Funny name that, vaguely familiar, familiar, hmm, familiar… well, I guess I haven’t introduced myself. My name? Hector Shieldsmith, a humble metalworker, who until thirty years ago, worked in a metalshop with my niece…” he trailed off abruptly, his face sombre in the candlelit room.
“What happened to your niece?” Usara asked softly. She knew where this was heading. Hector continued staring up into the ceiling behind Usara, his mouth slightly open as if reminiscing a long and forgotten Golden Age.
“I had to abandon her. After the promise I had made to my dying brother, I had to abandon her. They came, a huge massive army, larger than the eye could see… I knew they would come at some point. Out of all modesty, there were no better metal workers than the Shieldsmiths and they knew it. They needed me to help them. Whispers from the west came months, months before they had even set foot in Backwoods Forest. And yet, I stayed. Naive as I was, I stayed, knowing full well that they would come for me. I should have fled… so when they did come, eventually, I shouted to my sweet Illia, to take the Deflector, one of my last projects, and run. I never saw her again. I never saw her grow up as she was only nine at the time. I never watched as she forged her own armour and sword. I never saw the outside world again…” and he broke into small, stifled sobs. At this point, Usara had figured that the only way she was going to get help was to try and console him and reveal the truth of why she was there. There was certainly no path round it.
“Well, Hector, the reason why I’m here is really because I’m trying to save some heroes who I think may be able to help us find Illia if they know her, so if you could-”
“Seriously? Heroes in this dungeon? No wonder those blasted ogres were so keen on keeping me in here for these last few days! Where are they?”
“Oh, well, the thing is, I have only been here about three days and I figured that I wouldn’t try getting down to the prison until I had a good idea of where everything else is, especially the surface. I mean, what’s the point of knowing where to free your friends and not being able to get out?” she said. It took all of her self discipline to stop herself asking about the prophecy but to ease Hector into telling her.
“Well, it seems that you have sense, young girl. How many heroes did they capture?”
“I’d say, about fifteen?”
“Fifteen? That’s nearly all of them!” Hector exclaimed. Usara could hold on no longer.
“Er, Mr. Shieldsmith, if we are to get them out of here, then could you at least explain this prophecy to me that would be nice-”
“The prophecy is incomplete.” he said abruptly, his face indifferent.
“What do you mean it is incomplete? It looks fine to me.” Usara replied, but she knew even as she said it that she was terribly mistaken. After all, it was slightly burnt.
“The prophecy of the Fallen Race is incomplete. The rest of it was destroyed during the last Crusades of Kelvintaph Glacier about two hundred and thirty years ago. The last records have been lost to history forever. To retrieve the final verses would be an act of the utmost recklessness as the Glacier is the final gateway to Eldfjall Volcano, a forbidden and forever cursed island rumoured to be the largest stronghold of the ogres. No one has dared to set foot there for two hundred and thirty years as signs of dark magic - antigravity spells and life draining curses - have been the latest new development for the ogres. The Gate of the Summit is now the only way to reach the Glacier, but it is heavily guarded with only the toughest of ogres protecting the fabled Inner Sanctum. Do you not understand, young girl? Two hundred and thirty years since the last known human has gone and come back alive, but even so, barely. Two hundred and thirty years since the ogres had last been seen, until only three decades ago. Two hundred and thirty years of peace, while we lived our miserable lives with that same nagging thought in the back of our very minds - what if they came back? What would we do then? The numbers of heroes have decreased since; many of the faint-hearted did not feel that the rumours whispered from ear to ear about the perils of the glacier should be paid attention to. You said it yourself, fifteen of the many hundreds of heros of two hundred and thirty years ago remain. So, Usara, tell me, what chance do we stand, if any, of defeating them? Don’t get me wrong, as much as I want to get out of here with the other heroes, that’s the end of the line. Answer me!” His face was wrinkled with lines of sorrow, and Usara had believed him, so she answered.
“If we stand united in the face of this darkness, then we may have a chance. Do you want these ogres gone? Do you want peace restored to the many worlds they have infiltrated? Because listen when I say this: if you do, then you will explain to me how to get out of this dungeon, how to free the only people we have to rely on, and ultimately, how to eradicate them once and for all. Not locking them up in a shadow vortex, not closing them up in an empty world. I mean removing every single last one of them. Don’t you understand how valuable you would be to us? You have thirty years worth of inside information. You have heard and seen everything. We can do this. So, do you stand by me, or will you cower away in here to rot to death like a coward?” she asked. Hector Shieldsmith looked up into her fierce dark eyes, the lines on his face even more pronounced than ever in the candlelight.
“If it means that I will be able to reunited with my beloved Illia, then listen to me very closely, 'cos here’s the plan,” he said, beckoning her towards him.
Usara grinned widely.
END OF CHAPTER 4
And there’s chapter 4! I hope you enjoyed it and drop a like!