Timur shook his head in consternation as he stewed over the events of this evening. Frustrated by his inability to kill Abner, his emotions had become even further muddled as he mourned the loss of Lily. His many fantasies of forcing her into a relationship had died the instant his newly-acquired steed went rogue and dragged off Lily’s lifeless body into the evening sky. By now, her body had likely been devoured by the wild dragon.

He couldn’t understand this obsessive fascination he had with her. The only logical explanation he could determine was the fact that he had always gotten exactly what he wanted – until he met Lily.

As he continued to mull over his mixed emotions, one of his priests strode into the chamber. “Your Holiness?”

“Yes?”

“High Priest Abner requests thy audience.”

Timur nodded. “Take me to him.”

The priest led him out of the chamber, down a series of tunnels, and stopped at the entrance to the dungeon.

“Leave me.” Timur instructed the priest as he stepped into the archway and descended the stairs.

A guard stood at the entrance to the cell. Abner’s crouched body had been chained to a chair in the middle of the cell.

“Open the gate,” Timur said.

The guard produced a key and obliged.

“You may leave us.”

Timur waited until the guard had ascended the stairs and his footfalls faded away. Timur studied Abner’s countenance, confusion washing over him. Abner’s hair had gone shock white, and his face bore wrinkles Timur was certain hadn’t been there before.

“Abner,” Timur queried, “what’s happened to you? You look weary and ancient.”

Abner refused to meet his gaze. “I requested to meet thee before I die.”

“Don’t worry, my friend.” Timur kneeled to face him. “I haven’t come to kill you.”

“T’would be unnecessary.” Abner finally raised his head. “I am dying.”

Timur staggered backward in surprise. It was like staring death itself in the face. Abner’s eye sockets were sunken in and his eyes were bugging out. His face had gone ashen white and his skin shriveled. The skin on his hands and arms were similarly desiccated. What remained of his hair was thin and white, and looked to be falling from his scalp along with his skin. His resemblance to a corpse was alarming.

“Yea, ‘tis clear to me now.” he said between measured breaths. “My successor hath Awakened.”

“Your successor?” Timur asked, trying to compose himself. “For what?”

“As I hath explained to thee, I wast thine Oracle.”

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“What does that even mean?”

“I wast thine counselor, revelator, and historian.”

“Why haven’t you ever mentioned this to me before?”

“I hath tried, but thou hast never had any interest.”

Timur shook his head. “Why were you in the Village of Udom? Were you rallying the rebels against me?”

“No. I hath kin there.” He glared at Timur with pure hatred. “Alas, ‘twas so until thou didst slaughter them!”

“I cannot allow rebels to exist.” Timur countered. “No matter whose family might be involved.”

Abner scoffed. “I hath called thee here to give unto thee a warning.”

“What kind of warning?”

“Yea, ‘tis an ancient prophecy.”

“Of course it is.” Timur rolled his eyes. “There’s always another prophecy with you.”

“I shall tell thee the prophecy: a beast shall rise up out of the earth who hath two horns like a lamb, and shall speak as a dragon. This beast shall exercise all the power of the first beast, whose deadly wound hast been healed.”

Timur’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand…”

“Yea, this prophecy ‘tis intertwined with another.” Abner said. “Verily, aye two beasts; aye two souls with complimentary powers.”

Timur nodded in understand. “You mean me and Allan. I know this already.”

“No, I speak not of two Seraphim. I doth speak of the Final Seraph and his Oracle.”

“No, no, no.” Timur seethed, his hands clenched into fists. “I intend to kill Allan! I won’t let him steal my throne!”

“This prophecy also doth reference the first beast who shall survive a wound by sword.” A violent hacking cough erupted from Abner’s mouth, depositing several thick gobs of blood on the front of his tattered shirt. “Lo and behold, the second beast shall also be wounded by a dragon’s talon yet shall survive and shall gain the ability to speak as a dragon and gain divination powers like unto mine.”

“Wait,” Timur struggled to comprehend. “What does this mean?”

“It doth mean that the woman thou hast brought from Earth hast survived the dragon’s venom...” Another fit of coughing ensued. “This woman is destined to become the Last Oracle, and together with the Final Seraph they shall overthrow thee.”

“But I saw that wild dragon carry away Lily’s body! She must have been devoured by now.”

“My commission hath expired.” Abner’s voiced devolved into a raspy croak, barely audible. “By this ye should understand that the woman hast survived and hast Awakened to her divine calling.”

“How is that even possible?” Timur turned away. The question was as much to himself as to Abner. He returned to face his old friend, recoiling in horror at the sight in front of him.

As he watched, Abner’s eyes rolled back in their sockets, flesh sloughing off his body in chunks. Within seconds, all living tissue had rotted away, leaving nothing but a skeleton clad in tattered rags. Then this, too, gave away, and the bones crumbled to dust.

Despite his past anger, a pang of sorrow knifed through Timur. My dearest friend and comrade…

***

The Creed and local priests had been gathered in the main chamber again. One of Timur’s most loyal priests stood before him at the altar.

“I anoint you High Priest, and commission you to protect this city and its people.” Timur incanted as he poured a small amount of olive oil from a hollowed-out horn onto the crown of the man’s head. “You will hereafter be called by the name of High Priest Matityahu.”

Everyone in the room bowed, and the room lapsed into silence for several minutes.

“Rise.” Timur paused as he regained their attention. “The time has come for my Creed and I to depart. We have much more work to accomplish on Earth, but we will return in a few days’ time. Prepare yourselves, for the End of Days is nigh.”

The new High Priest rejoined the crowd of priests as the Creed members assembled around the altar. Timur removed the pouch of ashes from his waist while the Creed locked arms, forming a circle and chanting in Hebrew. Timur poured the ashes onto the altar and joined hands with them. The unholy energy poured from his eyes and surrounded them. With a flash of brilliant green light, they were gone.

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