Herald Of Flames

Prologue: The Old Man

An old man sat in a dark, damp hole. He didnt know how many years he'd been in that rotten hole, but he'd grown acustomed to it.  He knew the only reason he was still alive was because Soothsayers were rare these days, and to have one with such accuracy was even harder to come by. 

He was in his middle years when he and so many others, including his poor, lovely daughters, one of which had only been married and had her firstborn, and now its been what, 14, 15 years? His grandson was on his way to adulthood, and he didnt even know if his daughter was alive still, holding on to the hope to see her baby boy. He knew that at least one was still alive.

The old man rocked in his chair, sighing. His captor would be coming in for his wretched weekly soothsaying. The old man couldnt even remember his daughters names, how could he be expected to remember that of the man he hates most.

With no forewarning, the man doubled over with a splitting headache. Something big was happening soon, or already, and the fates were making sure he knew. This was good, last time something this big happened he used it to his advantage to gain knowledge on his daughters.

The mans vision blurred. He ground his teeth together and returned to his seat. The fates were cruelly artistic. He could feel his own death approaching soon, meaning this was his last chance.

The door creaked open and his captor stomped inside. He tossed kindling into the rarely used fireplace and set in alight. The light burned the old mans eyes, like always. 

"Something big is happening, the sands of power are readying to change..." The old man trailed of leaving no further knowledge. "Well? Whats happening old man?!" Snarled his captor.

"I am dying. I refuse to tell you anything else till i see my daughter." The old man grimaced sourly at his captor.

The old man was lifted off the ground by his collar, "BY THE GODS YOU WRETCHED MAN! JUST TELL ME OR I'LL KILL YOU HERE AND NOW!" THe old man smiled again. "Then you wouldnt ever know." His captor froze and the old man believed his death would come quicker. 

"What are your demands wretched man?" Snarled his captor with a controlled anger. "To see my daughter and safe passage to valhalla. Its the least you owe me after all these years..." His captor smirked. "Then your daughter will give you one." 

THe old man was dressed in weak armor and guards fetched his daughter. Seconds drew into minutes into hours. The 'city' was quite large.

THen finally the gaurds returned, with them a scrawny, broken shell of a shieldmaiden. Her once beautiful hair was shaved, her eyes dull. The girl he raised and the mother he once saw were dead and gone replaced with a broken, beat down slave-woman. The old mans hope for his youngest daughter-(He hoped his middle child, his only boy was helping his grandson in life the man thought suddenly, having not given his son a thought in monthes, years even)- was restored somewhat as he saw remnants of his past daughter alight in her eyes upon seeing the man. 

"Now tell me. You wretch." His captor spat. "THere will be a boy, who will tear apart the tribes, starting with his own. If you arent careful, you'll be swept away in the tides of change." The old man said cryptically. 

"Bah, a boy? Pathetic! I have allied with the tribe with the strongest fleet in the Archapelago, and i have one of the largest armies." NEvertheless his captor handed the old man a spear. 

"Now earn your place in Valhalla." The entirety of onlookers guffawed. The old man looked at his daughter, who had tears in her eyes and was readying her spear. The old man charged, yelling with all his might, "FOR VALHALLA!" but his daughter deflected his attack easily and sunk her sharpened spear through his weak armor.  

His daughter began to sob quietly, holding the old man's frail body. "Im sorry Papa, im sorry" She whimpered. "Get out of here my dear, find your boy." Groaned the old man with the last strength in his body, as his spirit headed to Valhalla.

The old man said so in worry that the boy that was destined to destroy the tribes was in own blood.