Now that Indenuel had a purpose to his day, he felt a twinge of regret not bringing the carriage. He wanted to get to the Cathedral as fast as possible to read the prophecy, but he tried not to show how anxious he felt.
They made it to the steps of the Cathedral. One of the four guards standing at the front of the door bowed. “How may we help?”
“I’d like to see the High Elder’s library,” Indenuel said.
“Only the High Elders can enter the library,” the guard responded.
“I am in their same class, I should be allowed,” Indenuel said.
The guard paused, maybe realizing who Indenuel was. “Right. Um…” The guard glanced at the other three men.
“Navir is in the library now. He spends most of his time there. You can ask him,” another guard said.
“Thank you. I will.”
Tolomon lead the way, staying in the back of the worship hall before going down a spiral staircase into the basement. There was a door, also blocked by four guards.
“I was told High Elder Navir would be here?” Indenuel asked.
“He is coming,” one of them said, which made Indenuel realize each of the four guards had one of the powers, and the tree talkers had probably already alerted Navir.
“Thank you,” Indenuel said as the door opened.
Navir smiled, one that took up most of his face. “Hello, Indenuel. What a pleasant surprise. I thought you were resting today.”
“I am. And while I rested, Captain Luiz gave me an idea. Apparently, this library holds the original prophecy of the Warrior. I want to read it, so I can get a better understanding of what I should do.”
Navir stared at Indenuel, unblinking, his face impossible to read before the smile somehow grew even bigger. “That is a wonderful idea. We were even discussing in our meetings when we would let you read it. However…” Navir tore his gaze away from Indenuel, looking at the four guards and Tolomon. “The prophecies and scriptures inside are sacred. Therefore, only you and I are allowed inside. Graduates before have allowed such a thing, but with you being the one and only Warrior, is Tolomon alright with that?”
Tolomon’s face fell as he looked at Indenuel. “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t go anywhere without me. You might get attacked in the library.”
“How?” Indenuel asked, curious.
“Unless you are insinuating the High Elders would be the ones attacking Indenuel, I assure you no one else has ever broken inside,” the guard said.
“I always assume someone can get in; therefore, I always assume my assignment could be in danger. It’s how I keep them alive,” Tolomon said.
Indenuel peered over Navir’s shoulder. “I don’t see any books in there.”
“This is the reading room. We try to limit the lanterns in the library,” Navir said.
“Right,” Indenuel mumbled. “Well, couldn’t Tolomon be with me in the reading room, and you just give me the prophecy I need? I’ll just read it there?”
Navir gnawed on the inside of his cheek in thought, the smile still somehow remaining. “We cannot compromise the holiness of the scripture. I know the prophecy you speak of, and you will have lots of questions. The prophecy shouldn’t be discussed so openly in front of someone from the common class.”
“He’s a Graduate.” Indenuel didn’t mean for it to sound so sharp.
“His true title is Graduate of the Common Class, but it doesn’t matter. Even a nobleman isn’t allowed in here. I’m sorry, Indenuel, but these books are sacred. There is no way Tolomon can enter, and if he insists on being with you, then I don’t know what we can do.” The smile changed ever so slightly to one of concern. It was alarming how long that big smile of his was lasting on his face.
“What if the door is left open a crack? Tolomon on one side, you and I on the other? I remain in the reading room, you get me the book I need,” Indenuel said.
Navir again mulled this over. “Someone might steal them.”
“Then they’d have to go through four guards and a Graduate,” Indenuel said. “Unless they bring an entire army, they’re going to be the safest they’ve ever been.”
Navir gave a soft sigh, the smile finally starting to faulter. “You certainly have thought everything through.” Navir turned to Tolomon. “You will do everything in your power to not overhear our discussion. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly, sir.”
“You four, top of the stairs. Tolomon will remain below. Indenuel, follow me.”
Indenuel walked into the room as Navir left the door open a crack. He nodded to Tolomon on the other side before he offered Indenuel a seat at the table. There were four chairs around a beautiful oak table with four lanterns resting on them, as well as lanterns all around the room.
“You request the prophecy of the Warrior?” Navir asked.
“Yes, please,” Indenuel said.
Navir nodded before picking up a lantern and going through a beautiful carved door, behind which Indenuel saw bookshelves full of books, scrolls, and parchments.
Indenuel settled into his seat. The room was weird. As it was in the basement, there were no windows. It was cooler than outside. The stone walls seemed chilling, but the light from the dozen lanterns made it cozy somehow. By the door there were potted trees, and the earth below was thin, to the point where Indenuel could sense the tree roots underneath. He marveled again at how it was possible to feel the trees in the Cathedral itself. How could his power work when he was on the floor above them, not near any trees at all?
Tolomon was on the other side of the door. For this moment, Indenuel felt alone, and it was strange to feel it again. It almost felt wrong, after having Tolomon by his side for so long. He thought he enjoyed being alone, but he also enjoyed being with Tolomon. He had never imagined getting used to someone’s company like that.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Navir returned, placing the lantern back on the metal hook on the wall before adjusting his hold delicately on an old parchment and an equally old bound book. Navir sat across from him, placing the book and the parchment down as if they were sleeping young children. There had to be almost a thousand pages stuffed in the book.
“Before I give these over to you, I must swear you to secrecy,” Navir said, his voice quiet even though Tolomon assured him he wouldn’t eavesdrop. “What you’re about to read is old. Knowledge is vital, and it can also be dangerous. Whatever you read here, you must keep here.”
“But why?” Indenuel asked. “Shouldn’t everyone know and understand the prophecy of the Warrior? Wouldn’t it be better?”
“Would you like Kiam to gain information about it? Know exactly what to expect at the final battle? Be prepared for you? Make it that much harder to fulfill the prophecy?” Navir asked. Indenuel didn’t have an answer to that. “The less people know about it the better it can protect you.” Navir’s paranoid gaze wandered to the crack in the door. “One more thing you ought to know before I hand it over to you.” He touched the parchment delicately. “Your prophecy isn’t the only one on here.”
Indenuel frowned. “You mean, the prophecy about the Savior too?”
“Yes, his as well, and others,” Navir said.
Indenuel leaned forward. “Others? Other people like me prophesied to come?”
Navir nodded. “We call them the Divine Ages. Each age is defined by the prophesied individual or individuals meant to come to that age. You are the first.”
Indenuel stared. He didn’t know what else to do. He was trying to understand it. “So how many are there?”
“Eight, including yours and the Saviors,” Navir said.
“Eight?” It came out more like a gasp. “There’s eight?!”
“Shh,” Navir said, glancing toward the cracked door. “Please, Indenuel. Keep your voice down.”
Indenuel still stared. “You managed to keep eight prophecies a secret from everyone?”
“Six prophecies are kept sacred. The Warrior and the Savior are well known,” Navir said, gently picking up the parchment and placing it Indenuel’s hands.
Indenuel became aware how grimy his hands were as he took the old parchment. He tried to give a reassuring smile to Navir as he placed it gently on the table. “How old is this?”
“Unsure. Before the time of the Great Flood, though. At least three hundred, closer to four hundred years old,” Navir said.
Indenuel’s throat went dry as he rubbed his sweaty hands on his pants. He made a mental note to touch it as little as possible.
“And what was the name of the prophet who saw these Divine Ages?” Indenuel asked.
“Unfortunately, his name has been lost to time. The Divine Ages, thankfully, are still around,” Navir said.
Indenuel’s heart pounded wildly as he scooted his chair closer to the parchment, feeling overwhelmed. Someone in the distant past had seen him with the power of sight and wrote about it.
In the First Age a child with eyes of Green will be born to a lonely and desperate woman. The boy will have no father but have all four gifts. Through him the long war will end.
In the Second Age, a princess with eyes of Blue shall…
“Wait,” Indenuel said, his eyebrows furrowing. He glanced through the beginning of the paragraphs.
In the Third Age…
In the Fourth Age…
Indenuel delicately flipped the parchment over, scanning the back. “That’s it?”
Navir looked at him as though he had insulted a family member. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… that’s it? One paragraph? One… two… three sentences? All these paragraphs are short. Each age barely gets a mention.”
Again, Navir looked at the door before returning his focus. “Once you’re finished with the parchment, I will give you Prophet Jaakob’s words.” Navir placed his hand on the thick book on the table. “His mentor was the Lost Prophet who saw the Divine Ages. Prophet Jaakob, too, saw them, and expounded on them.” Navir lifted the book before placing it back on the table. Indenuel nodded as he kept reading.
In the Second Age, a princess with eyes of Blue will charm a king, and though their posterity, the mother of the Savior will be born.
“What!” Indenuel couldn’t help but shout.
“Shh!” Navir said.
“The Oraminians will… their race will be responsible for…”
“I must ask you to lower your voice,” Navir said, his eyes bouncing between him and the ajar door. “Please.”
Indenuel let out a sigh before dropping his voice. “Do the Oraminians know they will be responsible for the Savior?”
“No,” Navir said with little emotion in his voice. “No, they do not. And they will not know it, either.
“Why not? This is a glorious thing,” Indenuel said.
“They already believed they could practice slavery through their own interpretation of religion. If they knew the mother of the Savior will come through their race, they might use it to take power,” Navir said.
Indenuel didn’t like that answer. It seemed more like Navir didn’t trust Oramin with the prophecy rather than anything else. Indenuel was too curious to stop and have a discussion, though.
In the Third Age, a nobleman with eyes of Violet will save the world from extinction.
Indenuel’s chest tightened. For being so short, it also felt ominous. What was that supposed to mean? What kind of threat could cause the possibility of extinction? And even then, what could one Zimoran nobleman do to stop it?
In the Fourth Age, a man and his twin brother, both with eyes of Gray will stop the Devil from taking over the world.
Indenuel winced. Was this literal? Were the men in the Fourth Age literally going to fight the devil? If so, Indenuel was happier to fight his own war. Fighting the devil can remain Kiam’s responsibility.
“Wait,” Indenuel said, realization hitting him. “This was written before the Great Flood?”
“It was, yes,” Navir said.
“Kiam wasn’t even discovered until a hundred and fifty years ago,” Indenuel said.
Navir gave a proud smile. “The Lost Prophet, as it turns out, is correct. There is a race of people with gray eyes.”
Indenuel was surprised but kept reading.
In the Fifth Age, a man with eyes of Brown will become the most powerful prophet, and through his posterity, the father of the Savior will be born.
Indenuel gasped. The parentage of the Savior was here. Right here, on the table. Why wasn’t this being screamed from the rooftops? “Do the Oraminians and the Dengrians know they are responsible for the-”
“Shh,” Navir said yet again, glancing at the door. “This is powerful knowledge. The fact is, Dengria hates Oramin for switching to our side during the War of the Four Nations.”
“Then shouldn’t we tell them so they can start healing the rift between them?” Indenuel asked.
“There is plenty of time for that without us intervening,” Navir said. “After all, it took three hundred years since the Great Flood for you to appear. Who knows how far in the future that will be?”
Indenuel didn’t know why Navir’s thoughts made him uncomfortable. What was wrong with knowing about your purpose?
In the Sixth Age, three young men with eyes of Green, Brown, and Grey, will inspire a powerful army to fight the Devil as he tries to take over the world once again.
Indenuel shook his head. Again, he was glad he didn’t have to go toe to toe with the devil.
In the Seventh Age, in a time of uncertainty as well as safety, the descendant of the Prophet will dance with the descendant of the Princess and the King at the Spring Welcoming. The two shall fall in love and in time, conceive the Savior.
Indenuel shivered with excitement. He didn’t know how long the ages were, but it was exciting to think about the coming of the Savior. Though how could an age be both uncertain as well as safe?
In the Eighth and Final Age, the Savior will save the world from its falsehoods, and the Devil will return to Hell where he shall remain for the rest of eternity. As the Savior redeems the world, the night sky will be covered in stars once again.
Indenuel frowned, daring to touch the parchment to bring it closer to his face. “‘The night sky will be covered in stars once again’? What does that mean?”
Navir shrugged. “A story we have unfortunately lost with the passage of time. We shall have to wait and see.”
Indenuel frowned before handing the parchment over to Navir. He took it, touching it by its corners.
“Eight prophecies, and only two are preached regularly on Sabbath?” Indenuel asked.
“I know it can be hard to understand. I went through that too when God first called me to this position, but we must think about the people. Right now, we need to focus on the first age. You. Once that prophecy is fulfilled, we will prepare for the next one.”
“Speaking of the first one, it never says anything about me fighting a final battle,” Indenuel said.
“Yes, correct, that was Prophet Jaakob’s addition,” Navir said, handing Indenuel the thick book. Indenuel took it, grunting as the full weight of the book rested in his hands. At least it was in a book instead of a parchment, but he still was terrified to hold something so old. “You’re not getting out of sword training that easily,” Navir added with a smile.
Indenuel tried to laugh, but the recent memory of his last sword training was painful to remember. The bound pages crackled as Indenuel opened the cover.