Prophecy: Child of Earth

24

Oelendra smiled to herself as her pupil landed a solid blow to Urist’s midsection, spinning gracefully to parry the strike Syntianta had aimed at her back. She watched as Rhapsody whirled to face her first opponent again; pulling her killing strike before the sword actually touched the Lirin soldier’s throat. “Gained!” they said in unison, then they both laughed. Rhapsody had no time to savor the moment; Syntianta was on her now, swinging two-handed, a skill she was renowned for. In addition, Rhapsody was blindfolded. She was doing amazingly well regardless.

Oelendra decided she was doing too well. Quietly she approached the sparring match, picking up a quarterstaff from the ground. She waited until both Urist and Syntianta had Rhapsody fully engaged, then crept up on her from the side and slapped at her knees with the staff, attempting to trip her up.

The flurry of moves that resulted was almost impossible to follow with the eye. Rhapsody spun gracefully and knocked Urist to the ground, jumping over the staff and rolling out of the way in time to unbalance Syntianta, who stumbled into Urist. Then, with a ringing sweep, she slapped the quarterstaff out of Oelendra’s hands with Daystar Clarion, sending it spinning into the trees.

Oelendra laughed aloud and embraced her student, pulling the blindfold from her eyes. “That’s enough for today; let us celebrate. Congratulations, Rhapsody; you now dance almost as beautifully as you sing.” night Rhapsody decided to trust Oelendra with one of her greatest secrets. Unlike the others she had already imparted to her, this one affected her friends. She remembered Achmed’s caution to her, and decided to follow Oelendra’s advice and trust her heart. It told her she was safe.

She tiptoed down the upstairs hallway to Oelendra’s bedroom. A light was still burning; Rhapsody knew that many nights Oelendra did not sleep at all. Being full-blooded Lirin she had no need to, as she was refreshed and rejuvenated by the subconscious meditation that resulted from the vibrations that her physiology drew from the forest. She tapped softly.

“Come in, dear.”

Rhapsody opened the door. Oelendra was sitting up in bed, unbinding her long thin braid. The sight of her caused tears to well up in Rhapsody’s eyes. Her mother had taken down her own hair each night when they were alone, and she had brushed it and Rhapsody’s before the fire. Oelendra represented her mother in so many ways that it never failed to cause her the pain of memory when something reminded her of this. Oelendra knew instantly that it had happened. She patted the bed next to her.

“Sit down.” Oelendra began brushing her hair.

Rhapsody complied. “Oelendra, tell me of the Three, and the prophecies about them.”

Oelendra smiled. “ ’Twere rantings, Rhapsody. Manwyn was trying to spare her sister from being cast out by the Cymrian Council. It didn’t work. The Council banished Anwyn in spite of her sister’s promises that saviors would come to undo the wrongs she had committed. After four hundred years, I think ’tis time we give up the fantasy and make different plans.”

Rhapsody nodded. “Do you remember exactly what she said?”

“Aye; I helped write them down. Why?”

The Singer smiled. “Well, you know me, always searching for lore.”

Oelendra looked at her seriously, then began to recite the words in the language of the Cymrians.

Rhapsody nodded. “And there has never been a further explanation?”

“Not really,” Oelendra answered. “The sages studied Manwyn’s words, trying to discern their meaning, and finally decided ’twas an allegory that meant anyone could kill the F’dor, since she spoke of the lifestages of all men. I didn’t believe that at the time, but I have decided since that ’twas more or less useless information. Why are you so interested tonight? Did you have a dream?”

“No,” Rhapsody answered. “And there was no other explanation?”

“Well, actually, Anborn, Gwylliam’s son, asked Manwyn before the Council how the Three would repair the rift.”

“Do you remember what she said?” Oelendra nodded and thought a moment.

Rhapsody laughed. “Well, that was helpful.”

Oelendra put her hairbrush down on the bedside table. “Now do you see why I don’t put any stock in the babbling of a madwoman?”

“Yes, but perhaps you should.”

Oelendra looked sharply at her. “Say what you mean, Rhapsody.”

The Singer regarded her seriously. “You know I didn’t sail with you, Oelendra, yet you know I am also a First Generation Cymrian. You have assumed that instead of sailing with the Cymrians I went to a country nearer to Serendair, as so many Liringlas did, but I did not. I actually have only been in this world for a very short time. I have told you about Grunthor, my Bolg friend who taught me the sword. I should probably tell you that he is Cymrian as well. We came with a third friend.” Her voice grew softer as Oelendra’s eyes widened. “He is Dhracian.”

Oelendra took her hand, clutching it. “You’re one of the Three?”

Rhapsody shrugged. “I think so. I mean, I don’t know, really, but Grunthor is tied to the Earth, and Achmed to blood. And since I am Liringlas, I would guess that could make me a child of the sky.”

“Leaving early, arriving late,” Oelendra murmured to herself. “None but the sky encompasses all, thus shall it be the only means by which peace will come and unity will result.” Her eyes began to shine. “ ’Tis you, Rhapsody; I knew it from the moment I saw you. Even if you weren’t one of the Three, I believe in my heart that you are the one to do this; the true Iliachenva’ar. The sword has borne out Manwyn’s prediction.” Her hands trembled slightly from excitement.

“Now, Oelendra, don’t get carried away,” Rhapsody warned. “I know nothing of the Three, and if it is foretold, nobody foretold me. I just thought you should know that I didn’t come alone.”

“And you will never be alone again, Rhapsody. Whatever it takes to prepare you for this fight, whatever your destiny may be, I am here for you.”