The High Prophecy

Chapter 2: Change

Chapter 2: Change

In the middle of the woods, the sun is setting, sparks of a continuous attempt of lighting a fire can be seen floating about, as a figure in a hunter's jacket sits on a chopped log in front of a bundle of sticks, hitting two rocks against each other.

On another chopped log, head resting on a leather bag, lies an unconscious Jon.

The area is surrounded by trees, sounds of birds chirping and bushes rustling could be heard in the distance, alongside the sound of the rocks hitting.

Jon starts to wake up, with a rough headache causing him to struggle to get up in a sitting position.

"Ugh... What the fuck?" he says, putting a hand on his head, looking around.

"Hungover, are ya?" calls the voice of the other person, in an African American accent that is... Yep, you guessed it, just a little bit of medieval in there. There's a reason for that but we'll get to that later.

"Huh? Who-"

"Name's Eli Canine, but my friends call me Fangs." says the other man, turning to face Jon. Jon is surprised to see that the man has ears and fangs that resemble a wolf's, and an overly hairy face, his facial expressions however look fairly chill.

"You got some..." Jon starts to say, pointing at his face, obviously still trying to wake up completely. "Yeah... Never mind."

Fangs laughs. He finally starts the fire.

"Oh hell yeah!" calls Fangs, victoriously. "Air's really humid, can't do shit from all the mist, know what I'm sayin'?"

"Oh shit, shit!" cries Jon as sudden realization hits him. "What happened? Fuck! Did that really happen?!"

"Well, in case you're curious, I saved your life-"

"Shit!" cries Jon at the top of his lungs, enraged. "That fucking bastard killed Mary!"

"Sucks, man." says Fangs.

"I'm going to kill that ass-faced bastard! I will make him wish his mother never conceived his ass-ass!" cries Jon, trying to stand, but stopping to a halt as he aches in pain. He looks down and sees that his right leg is tied with a bunch of sheets and cloth, chopped from the femur down.

"He chopped your leg, man." says Fangs.

"I can see that!" shouts Jon, angrily.

Jon, almost erupting in a fury, drops his face to his palms, quieting out for a moment.

"I feel you, man." says Fangs, warming his hands in the fire, blowing off a breeze of cold from his mouth. "The Dark Lord screwed my hometown, too. He just went through everyone's throats like a breeze... I was the last one left.. y'know? When he blows away the mist to show you all of your dead friends and family, and you get angry and blinded by revenge... That's just what he wants, he wants you blind. Blind prey is dead prey."

"I'm not prey." Jon mutters under his palms

"Yeah, you are.. we're all prey to him." says Fangs.

After another moment of silence, Jon shakes his head. He starts laughing maniacally. Fangs stares at him in confusion.

"Are you..." Fangs starts to say.

Jon takes his face off his palms and reveals that he is crying, his laughter turns to weeping as he returns to a resting position.

"Oh, yeah. The classic laugh-cry. You'll be fine, okay?" says Fangs.

"No, no I won't be fine!" cries Jon. "Twenty years, we have fought for twenty years in a war that felt like it would never end... The gods rewarded our patience with salvation and it was finally over, we moved to a quiet village to live the rest of our life in peace... We got married, had a little boy..."