The Beast Within

Ambrosia: Chapter Four

"I was born in the sky. My mother is an ancient goddess, and she was running from a darkness that followed her wherever she went."

Ambrosia paused and studied my face, looking for a hint of uncertainty. When she found none, she continued:

"But my mother is cunning. She knew of a place where I would be hidden and wrapped me in a cloak made from stars, covering my face so no one could see it. She pushed me from the sky and onto this world, and left with a promise that one day, when I was strong enough to conquer the darkness that threatened us, I would return home. That darkness is my father. He intended to eat his newborn daughter, and that is why my mother fled from him, and why I remain here, under a shield of blue sky. I am trapped, for if I tried to leave before I'm ready, I would surely be destroyed. My father is waiting in the sky, and one day I must face him."

"He wanted to eat you?"

"A seer told him of a prophecy where his daughter would end his wicked reign."

"How will you know when you are ready?"

"Fate will decide. You see, my death here will be a happy event, but it cannot happen before the right time. I've spent my life gaining all the wisdom I can and strengthening my magic for the fight to come. Fate will choose, but there will be a sign my days in this body are coming to an end. You, Josiah, are that sign. You are the Herald."

I tensed. "That's not—How do you know that?"

"The same way I know my own history. Without my mother to explain it, I had to rely on what she left behind."

With a sly smile, Ambrosia went to a chest that sat in a corner of the cottage. From it, she produced a weathered sack tied with twine. Inside was a rolled-up scroll, equally as old as the sack that contained it. She held it up for me to see.

"The seer's prophecy. This and the cloak of stars are the only possessions I have from home. This is how I know who I am."

She returned to me and unfurled the scroll halfway. There was writing, but it was a language I'd never seen.

"Only people from the sky know the meaning of these words," Ambrosia said with a sigh, "and my mother is not here to teach me. I've met many scholars and none could translate it. But there are pictures, no doubt drawn by my wise mother so I could learn about my destiny. Look here."

She revealed the rest of the page, and there, masterfully drawn on the bottom half, were a series of images. They told the same story Ambrosia recited. A dark being in the sky uniting with a woman and producing a daughter. A wizened seer warning the father that his heir would be his downfall. The father chasing the mother and newborn through the heavens until the mother set her child upon a world where the father could not find her. A young girl traveling for many years.

There was no question that the girl was Ambrosia, for her painted face bore an identical likeness.

Near the bottom of the scroll was an image of a large, gray wolf with its face turned towards a silver moon. Its arms were wrapped around the girl, now a woman, and between its teeth was a golden horn. The next picture showed the woman dancing in fire with her arms stretched toward the sky, while a young man stood by and watched with a forlorn expression.

When I squinted at the drawing my stomach turned.

The young man had my face.

The second to last image depicted the woman rising into the sky with a sword and shield, towards a dark being with outstretched claws.

The final image showed the woman driving her sword into the heart of her enemy, reducing it to smoke.

"It's not possible," I whispered. "I'm not a Herald. I'm just a boy."

"And a wolf. A powerful, gray wolf. You are a special part of my story."

"No, I'm not." I shook my head. "I'm not special."

She touched my face with a gentle hand.

"My sweet friend, you are the beginning of my end here."

"You can't be sure."

"How can one be sure they're facing their destiny? They feel it." She pushed away a fallen lock of my hair. "This is not terrible news, Josiah. I've been waiting centuries to welcome your arrival."

"But what if it's not me? There are others who can change."

"I've studied this story my whole life. I've memorized it. When I saw the wolf in the woods I thought it might have been a coincidence, but then you appeared in my doorway as a human and I knew I hadn't been mistaken."

I traced my finger over the face of the young man on the scroll.

"Maybe you misread it," I mumbled.

Ambrosia gave a soft huff and rolled up the scroll before placing it back into the sack.

"We can deny destiny as much as we want, but it will arrive all the same. It's not an accident that we met. That is why I have reason to fear you, but it is not a bad fear. It's anticipation for what's to come. Our meeting means I will return to my real home, and for that you are most welcome in my life."

A heavy silence hung between us. No part of me wanted to believe her. I was not significant in any way. I was Josiah, a boy born in the woods, who lived a simple childhood until misfortune found its way to me. I was not the Herald of anyone's death.

Did Ambrosia think I would be the one who would kill her?

I couldn't linger on that thought for long, so I dove into my stew and tried to distract myself with eating.

"Tell me about your sister," Ambrosia said suddenly. "I want to know all about the life that led you here."

To turn the conversation away from prophecies and beings in the sky, I talked briefly about the journey I had been sent on after Pa died. The tavern with Sampson and Angela, and poor Moira who was still lost. The circus with its mysterious Authority and crow men. The sickly prince and Phelan, and the castle that fell under the spider brides.

Ambrosia listened with keen interest.

Mostly I spoke of you, Credence. I told her how we played as children, and how you protected me in the woods. The horrible emptiness that was left when I woke to find you missing, how I couldn't let go of my belief that you were alive, and would spend the rest of my life searching until I discovered what had become of you.

"It's settled then," Ambrosia said when I finished, "we will look for Credence every day. In this way, I can repay you. We will help each other, for that is what we were meant to do."

That night I lay on a bed of soft straw near the fire. I looked out of the lone window in the cottage, studying the stars above. I wondered if Ambrosia's father could see me, and if he was eager for his daughter's ascent.

I desired a different truth, that Ambrosia was mistaken about me, or her scroll was a mistranslation or imagined fable. It would have been better, I thought, if she were only a kind but slightly touched woman living in the woods, who had dreamed a story of another life in the sky. 

She believed every word of my own story, though, and it seemed unfair not to believe hers.

I would have no part in her death, of that I was certain.

But this resolve posed ominous questions:

What would happen if I denied Ambrosia her destiny?

Would I have any control over the future, or would my hand be forced against my will?

Was I truly fated to be the one who stood by while she danced in fire—and would I be the one who caused it?