The pariah and the prophecy
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But as my gaze settled on the vendor, a strange unease crept over me. His appearance stood out immediately - his clothes were tattered and worn, barely holding together.
A blindfold covered his eyes, its edges frayed and torn. At a glance, he looked like a beggar, discarded by the world, a common occurrence amidst the bustling chaos of the market.
I glanced over the various items strewn across his table. They seemed like discarded trinkets from a distance, broken scraps, rusted gears, fragments of old stones. But up close, I felt something, a subtle energy, hidden beneath the surface, masked by their outward appearance. And yet, beyond that, something deeper gripped me gnawing pressure, hammering inside my skull.
"Arg…"
Dum dumm…
My heart skipped a beat as EXIRA surged from deep within, flaring in response to something primal. My gaze snapped back to the old man, instinctively honing in on him. He had no Aura or visible presence around him, as if he didn’t exist but, he did just that fact sent shivers down my body as sweats formed.
I remembered what Mom told me when I awakened EXIRA, that to always remember that this power sees what exists, and feels what exists no matter the situation.
‘No aura at all…’ My thoughts raced. ‘Uncle Sebastian’s? No… closer to Mom’s level. Not quite there but similar level’
I froze, every instinct on edge as I detected movement.
The old man stirred, his movements slow and deliberate, as though waking from a deep slumber. His voice cut through the silence, weighted with an authority like Mother’s not forceful, but overwhelming.
"It seems," he began, his tone deliberate, "it is fated for us to meet, my prince."
I flinched, caught off guard by the casual reveal of my identity. The market had been bustling moments ago, but now everything seemed muted, distant, as though we had been pulled into a world apart.
“Who are you?” I asked, channeling EXIRA with full focus, imbuing its essence into my words as it gave me strength and presence to my voice.
The old man’s blindfolded face turned toward me, and despite his hidden eyes, I felt him seeing everything. A small, genuine smile formed on his lips. His chuckle was dry, like the sound of leaves rustling.
"Names are of little use to those who walk the path I tread, but you may call me pariah." He paused, the weight of the title settling in the air. "A fitting name for what remains of me."
His blindfolded eyes gave nothing away, but EXIRA showed power hidden deep when he revealed his title, the kind that comes from a lifetime of truths that cannot be told, only felt.
Pariah, outcast…what sort of title and what should I do, the emergency signal Aunt Nora gave is not working…sure old blindfolded grandpa with a title says he is harmless
"How does this pariah," he gestured faintly, his lips curling as he saw my growing unease, "be of any help to you, young prince?"
“I don’t trust you,” I said as EXIRA intertwined with my words creating a presence of authority. At least it was something most people will feel intimidated by, but I'm sure it’s of no effect on him apart from making an image. I can’t come off as weak now that he knows my identity.
The Pariah’s smile widened, but it wasn’t malicious - if anything, there was recognition in his eyes. "Good. Trust is a luxury for few, and you will come to know its weight soon."
His blindfolded gaze bore into me. He nodded, seemingly satisfied with my reaction. "There are truths," he continued, his voice softer now, "that even the most powerful among us fear to acknowledge. But you, young prince… you must walk at the edge. The power you wield is not merely your own. It is a key, and the lock it opens... will lead you to your answers. Whether you reach it is yet to be seen."
I could feel my eye twitch.
‘Da fu*k he is on about... I’m here sweating buckets and he is all going cryptic shit, please no prophecies those are pain Mom keeps reminding me not to entangle myself in the web’
He waved a hand over his table, and the items in front of him shimmered. What had once seemed like junk now glowed with hidden meaning. Each piece radiated with intent, their power faint but undeniable.
"Perhaps, something to help in your journey, my prince. After all, what is power without struggle?"
EXIRA trembled at his words, quaking in response.
‘Damn, he said something his sentence had a hidden meaning, one my power shielded me from fully understanding. Still, the truth was clear enough.’
Three symbols appeared
A crystal
A monocle
An Earring
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
I let EXIRA surge, sweeping over the items as if trying to understand them. Each pulsed with a strange presence, their very essence etched into the world around them as I read some intent.
The blemished crystal
The monocle without a lens
The earring without its pair
"Choose wisely, My prince," the Pariah whispered, his voice now low and foreboding. "For even a pariah such as I can bend Fate a little."
I hesitated for a moment, observing the old man again. His eyes were covered, yet a feeling that he could see me somehow. I’m sure he is a relic of the past with strength at least close to that of a RULER. There was a quiet awareness in the way he held himself, the sagely aura he exuded.
‘fuu’
I took a deep breath as my mind spun.
‘All of this is a facade that I’m sure of his appearances are deliberate. His strength weakened but was not lost EXIRA showed he is not simple. What’s his purpose Mom did tell us to be vigilant of those that play with the threads of Fate’
The world around us dulled, the color draining from the market, leaving only greys. Time had come to a halt, and the only ones moving were me and the Pariah.
I looked at the Old man, pariah as he called himself, sensing my gaze he just smiled and gestured for me to choose.
EXIRA only picked up the truth behind the items, I’m not strong enough to probe more.
‘Huu’
The blemished crystal
The monocle without a lens
The earring without its pair
All of the items seem broken or damaged. A crystal with cracks and dull impurities like stuff swirling which when I focused EXIRA trying to feel some intents the crystal felt repulsive. The golden monocle was pristine but it had no lens and it felt blind and the earring in the 8 shape without its pair felt incomplete.
Closing my eyes letting EXIRA wash over me and the items, taking a deep breath I saw the choices that were before me.
3 Choices
Repulsive
Blindness
Incomplete
At that moment I knew this decision would be a very important part of my life, for how would my path be?
Stopping all thoughts, emptying my mind as I enter a meditative state letting EXIRA flow and let it decide. EXIRA flowed over the items as they tried to form links, I felt as the items tries to form bonds yet fails until one of them latched onto my EXIRA entwined itself.
All the other items disappear from the table as the world regains its color.
“Haha, you’ve chosen, my prince,” the Pariah chuckled, his laughter filled with a strange warmth. “For the path ahead is yours to walk.”
I blinked, feeling a chill as the cold metal of the earring pressed against my skin. It had already affixed itself to my right ear.
"A word of advice, my prince," Pariah's voice shifted, deepening into something from being the kind old man to far more solemn, weightier, almost sacred. For the first time, I felt an unmistakable authority in his tone, the kind that could command.
"A poem... and a prophecy, passed down through my ancestors. I implore you, listen well, remember every word. Whether you choose to believe it or not – that’s your burden to bear."
Without waiting for a response, the pariah rose from his seated position, and in that instant, his wares, once scattered around him like forgotten junk, vanished. The world itself seemed to hold its breath, frozen as the dull grey retook the world, an ancient pressure, like the weight of ages, descended upon me.
I straightened reflexively, every fiber of my being responding to the intensity of the moment. EXIRA surged from within, pushing back against the crushing force that now radiated from the old man.
The pariah has stopped holding back his strength.
'Crazy old man... You’ve definitely got my attention now.'
Thum thum!
The sound of the pariah’s heartbeat echoed through the still air, each pulse like a distant drum of war. His deep, resonant voice followed, carrying with it the weight of the prophecy
Hummmmm~
"When the sky is torn asunder,
And shadows stretch with growing thunder,
The Eye of Devour peers below,
Bringing forth eternal woe.
Beware the gaze that sees your soul,
For no mercy will it know.
Its hunger vast, its darkness deep,
In its stare, your end shall creep.
Turn away, do not defy,
For beneath its watch, all must die.
A fate far worse than death awaits,
Where hope is lost and time abates.
When the heavens break and tremble,
And the world begins to crumble,
Seek no answers in the skies-
The Eye devours, and never lies."
The words hung in the air like an omen, each syllable laden with dread, seeping into my bones. The world, still eerily silent, felt as if it had been waiting for that moment - for those words to be spoken.
I stood there, the weight of the prophecy heavy on my shoulders, my mind racing to make sense of it all.
The Eye of Devour... skies torn asunder... What could it mean? Why did it feel like those words were meant for like some twisted, inevitable fate had been set in motion?
A chill ran down my spine as I processed the full gravity of the prophecy.
The pressure that had held the world at a standstill suddenly lifted, and the market around me came back to life with a jolt - sounds of merchants, bartering voices, and clinking coins flooding my ears once more. The chatter and bustle should have been comforting, but it only added to the strange disorientation swirling in my mind.
I blinked, trying to shake the lingering haze. The verses echoed in my head, gnawing at me as if they carried a hidden truth, one I wasn’t ready to understand. My hands trembled slightly, and I clenched them into fists, forcing myself to breathe - to focus as EXIRA permeated my whole body, only then I regained my senses.
I looked toward the old man, expecting to see his frail form hunched over once more, back to selling his wares as if nothing extraordinary had just occurred. But when my eyes landed on the spot where he had been, there was nothing.
He was gone, EXIRA found no presence, no existence around.
I scanned the crowded market, eyes darting from one face to another, but there was no sign of him. No trace of the blindfolded beggar who had just delivered a prophecy that shook me to my core. It was as if he had never been there at all.
A hollow feeling crept over me, a sense that something larger was at play, something I couldn't yet grasp.
Mom keeps calling my attempt to EXIRA as a glorified scanner but it seems that too has failed me.
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