Forced Into Tyranny

4: The Prophecy

Sallón Home,
Woods of Khiortos.

         The temple's market was a sprawling labyrinth of stalls and tents, stretching as far as the eye could see. A lively atmosphere filled the air, with merchants hawking their ritual objects and customers haggling over prices. Exotic spices, shimmering, silk scarfs, and gleaming trinkets from far-off lands were piled high on the stalls, tempting passersby with their vibrant colors and intricate designs.
       The aroma of roasting meats and baking breads wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet scent of fresh flowers. The temple was a place of wonder and mystery, where anyone could come to worship, bringing gifts to the gods and also buying fortifying supplies for their homes.
        Lyra and her governess embarked on a journey from Elderham to the bustling Home of Sallón, seeking to acquire sacred materials to perform rituals to help lead her during her journey of marriage. Although Elderham City had a few market stalls that could provide what they needed, Lyra was curious to experience the vibrant atmosphere of Sallón, their gods and the temple once more, and therefore begged her governess to take her there.
        Gertrude had earlier informed Lyra of a marriage, which made her ponder about the possibility of being confined to the corners of her home, if her husband not be a liberal man to let her even seek the face of the gods. Lyra's desire to live her life to the fullest — in just few days before it was too late — was ignited, and she yearned to explore the kingdom beyond what she knew.
        As her governess led her through the crowd, expertly weaving between the throngs of shoppers and traders, Lyra felt a sudden tug on her tunic, as though someone had touched her. She whirled around, her heart racing, but saw only a boy carrying a stick of lamb. The commotion of the market continued around her, but Lyra couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.
        Lyra continued walking, her gaze fixed on the golden trims of her governess's tunic. Suddenly, she felt the tug on her tunic again, but this time the pull was stronger, more insistent. It was as if the person was daring her to stop. Lyra obeyed the pull and came to a halt, turning around in search of the mysterious person. However, the lamb boy and the other customers had vanished, and the market square was eerily empty, as though it had been transported to another world. Lyra's heart pounded in her chest as she realized that something inexplicable had occurred.
        Was her governess seeing this too?
        Lyra's curiosity turned to terror as she reached for her governess's hand, only for it to crumble into dust before her eyes. She stumbled backward, then forward, her short steps turning into a frenzied sprint as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Fear consumed her, like a tornado, its fierce winds leaving nothing but goosebumps in its wake.
        Lyra felt a flicker of hope as she heard her name whispered in the rustling wind and trees. "Lyra Syagros," the voice echoed again, but it sounded nothing like her governess's or anyone she knew. She hesitated, unsure whether to respond, but her curiosity got the best of her.
        "Who's there?" Her voice trembled with fear and anticipation.
        "Come."
        With no other companion, Lyra's heart raced with fear, but also with an inexplicable sense of discomfort and unfamiliarity. At once, she clutched the talisman around her neck, a pentagon with a symbol of Korax —a sly raven which was but the god of guidance—etched into it, and followed the sound deeper into the woods.
         The path was dark and twisted, but she pressed on, her senses sharpened to the sound of the voice which continued to beckon her. As she emerged from the darkness, she found herself standing before a clearing. In the center stood a stone altar, and beside it, a figure draped in a black cloak. The figure turned and faced her, and Lyra gasped in confusion and fear.
       It was an old woman who might've been around eighty years of age, wrinkled and marked with all sorts of strange symbols. Lyra had been learning about their faith in Thevalon; each god, his goddess, and their markings. Though she understood not all of what the old woman wore on the skin of her neck and face, she knew the woman was a powerful priestess of the gods.
       "Closer." The woman beckoned her, and Lyra stepped forward, her skin tingling with angst. The priestess spoke in hushed tones, her words laced with ancient magic and wisdom. It was as if she had no voice at all. Perhaps the burden of communicating for the gods had cost the woman her voice.
        Lyra sat as she had been instructed, on the stone in the middle of clear land. "Is this happening, or am I dreaming?" Lyra asked but the woman's only response was a smile.
        Then, she told Lyra of a prophecy that had been foretold centuries ago, of a chosen one who would rise up in times of darkness and bring light to the world once more. Lyra listened intently, her mind banging with questions and doubts.
        As the priestess finished the tale, she placed a hand on Lyra's shoulder and looked deep into her eyes. "You have been chosen by Korax, Lyra Syagros, daughter of Pillus Syagros," she said, her voice low and full of mystery. "Your destiny is entwined with that of a powerful man, one who is being protected by Balius himself. His fate and yours have been written in the stars by Symoude, our goddess of love. Together, you will bring hope to our people and restore balance to our world." The priestess's hand grazed over Lyra's talisman, and Lyra felt a surge of energy course through her body.
         How would she, a girl just coming of age, change the world even her ancestors hadn't changed? None of those made sense. Did this have anything to do with her husband-to-be? He was powerful, wasn't he?
        "However?" Lyra asked, sensing an undertone of worry in the priestess's tone. Despite her limited knowledge of the gods and priestesses, she could tell that there was more.
        The sly smile on the old woman's face faded, and she spoke in a lower voice, as if defying the gods themselves. "I stopped seeing your future two days ago." Her words were heavy with meaning. Lyra's heart sank at the news.
        "What does that mean?"
        "I cannot tell you, or it shall ruin your fate." The priestess rounded Lyra once more and placed something into her palm, instructing Lyra not to open it until she was ready to. "The only thing the gods have deemed important is for you to know that this man has killed, the weight of his people rests on his shoulders, and he will cause you pain as a result of the hunger for vengeance that drills his soul."
        "Please slow down."
         "Your road is rough, my child. Never lose your faith and always trust your heart—"
         "There you are!" The voice of a worried woman cut through that which the priestess was telling Lyra, and she turned to see who. "What are you doing back there, and who are you talking to?"
         Lyra rose from the rock and gazed her governess in the eyes. "The woman..." The woman was gone, Lyra saw nothing of her left behind as she turned back to explain it all to her governess. "Oh...it's just that...there was..."
        "There was what?" Asked the worried and angry woman. She'd been looking everywhere for Lyra and had grown frustrated. "Come here. It is not safe in these woods. You should never have let go of my hand." The governess eyed her to move. "This place is not called Khiortos because people come here to play." Lyra felt the hands of her governess embrace her. "The spirits of the land dwell here. I hope you were not talking to one."
        Lyra shook her head fast. "No, I only thought I heard my name."

~~~

Elderham City,
Home of Lord Bailiff Syagros.

           Pillus was filled with excitement as he burst into the house, and Lyra's stomach sank. She had returned from Khiortos only a short while ago, and knew that Pillus's joy could only mean one of two things. Either his fighter had won a great victory today, or her husband had reached out to him. The thought of the latter made her heart stop.
         Lyra knew that mere wishing would not suffice. She needed to train herself to control her emotions and face her fears, even if that meant confronting the devil himself. Her hands had been cold and clammy as she waited anxiously for news about her husband, her thoughts drifting back to her encounter with the Priestess in Khiortos. She couldn't shake the feeling that the two were somehow connected.
         Though she had waited impatiently for her father to get back, seeing him now only made her wish to lock him outside.
        "Pillus. You're here." Gertrude's high pitched voice echoed across the house and she stood up to welcome him with a kiss on his palms. "Welcome home."
       "Thank you, Gertrude."
         Pillus took off his cloak and tossed it on a hanger. His strong gaze wandered hither and thither in search of god-knew-what. Then, he found it.
        Lyra.
       Good gods. She gasped immediately.
       Gawking at her made her stomach twist into a tiny knot. For the first time in her life, she didn't want him to smile. She wanted him to be angry, to hit her mother if that would have taken his attention from her. Her selfishness didn't prick her for a moment.
         The word husband had gnawed at her head all day, and though she was supposed to be dying with excitement and anticipation, she was living in mortal anguish.
        "Lyra!" Pillus called out, his tone bland despite the smile on his face. "I apologize for leaving early, but I simply could not miss Raven's fight with Deadtalon." He paused, waiting for her response, but Lyra remained silent. She had no interest in the barbaric spectacle of gladiatorial combat, and she certainly didn't care who had won.
        "I bet Raven won," chimed in Gertrude, and Lyra rolled her eyes. She had no patience for her mother's fake obsession for the games either.
       "Where's Thymotes?" Lyra asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from the topic of Weapons and Shadows.
        Pillus's eyes lit up as he approached her. His joy was particularly ill-suited to such a somber occasion. "He is with King Hagnon."
       "Why?" Lyra couldn't resist the frown as her curiosity piqued.
        Thymotes and King Hagnon had no business meeting. He wasn't in the senate, unless of course, Pillus and the King were trying to put him there. At twenty-five, he was old enough to be something. Even if it was the King's idle left hand.
        Her mother joined her father's side, Lyra feeling their eyes upon her, full of unspoken adoration. The sense of frustration was gnawing at her - why couldn't they just tell her what was going on? This wasn't Doris, who was always the intelligent one, she hoped they hadn't forgotten.
        "Sit down, Lyra." Her mother's voice was as soft as a feather, and it was really never a good sign when it was.
        No. Lyra's head shake was firm. If this was something that could excite Pillus, then maybe it was worth getting excited about. However, something told her she was about to add her fate to the long list of things she hated. "What is going on?"
        "King Hagnon wants to meet you." If she hadn't looked away, if she hadn't lowered her gaze to her father's togas instead of staring at his mouth, she might have realized the implications of those words fast. "If you impress him, Lyra, there's no telling what doors might open for you," her father continued, his eyes alight with hope.
       Lyra had nodded, trying to hide her apprehension. She knew what was expected of her - to be charming, witty, and above all, obedient. Those were everything she was not.
        "Yes, Child." Her mother picked up. "Your father and Thymotes have been working tirelessly with the King to secure your position at court."
       Without letting realization dawn on her at least, they kept throwing words from their respective angles.
        Her father went next. "If you're on your best behavior during your stay at court, Lyra, if you show the King the side of you your mother and I have always spoken of, then you'll be the next Queen of Thevalon."