The Prophecy

The Prophecy Divinity Stone 1 by Desiree DeOrto

For my children: know that no matter what life throws at you that you can still accomplish everything you've ever dreamed of.

AND

For all the dreamers, believers and non-deceivers.

I salute you.

Chapter One June 26th, 1691

Sarah's hands trembled as she read the stones once again. Yes, all the stones spoke to her of a child, her child that would soon come into the world. She didn't need a midwife to tell her that her cycle was late, or that she would soon bear the swelling of a child that would flourish within her womb. The stones confirmed what the fates had written, what the prophecy foretold, and what her soul screamed into the darkness.

She sat there silently, cross legged before the rough stone table. A mix between overwhelming despair and joy swept through her in a violent vortex. Pulling her emotions from one edge of the spectrum to the other. Tears filled her large violet eyes, trailing down her lily white cheeks. The grain of the dirt floor started cutting into her palms, the pain bringing her slowly out of her reveries.

With a soul felt sigh, she stood, brushing the dirt form her white sacred robes. She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked longingly once more at the stones, almost taunting herself with the bald truth. It has begun, she thought as she turned away from the table. She left the dwelling without a backward glance, taking the first steps that would lead to the end of her life and the beginning of another. Just as the prophecy foretold.

Rain fell in pounding waves. The cold drops causing mist to rise when they hit upon the warm earth. The fog danced in the night, resembling ghostly forms that seemed to sway beneath the blood red moon. The graveyard was washed in flickering shadows. The red glow of a fire pulsed at its center like a beating heart, creating a symphonic display of light and dark. She silently moved amongst the headstones toward the light. The shadows seemed to dance around the fire, like heathen beings praying to a god of old, pulsing along with the flames. Creating a web of power all their own that radiated along the mist shrouded earth, causing the swirling gray to move erratically.

A shiver crept down Sarah's spine as she stopped beside an angelic monolith. The angel gazed down at her, seeming to reach out toward her. Sarah wondered if he knew what was about to happen, and was seeking some way in which to comfort her, assist her. She slowly removed the hood from her raven black hair. Her violet eyes widened in disbelief as she watched the scene in front of her.

Black cloaked figures stood in a circle around the fire, seeming to draw the shadows to them. Twisted animal masks shrouded their faces, creating a grotesque feeling of evil. She drew her cloak tightly around her, trying to keep out the chill that seemed to permeate everything.

A lone form stood out from the circle. He was the only unmasked figure. Her heart wrenched as recognition hit her. Merlo, her heart cried as despair hit it, causing it to fracture under the weight of his betrayal. His hands were outstretched before the blaze. Head thrown back with eyes closed he faced the blood moon riding high in the sky. Power seeped from him, coming off in dark waves. The followers seemed to sway along with the power emanating from him, enveloping him.

Sarah drew in a deep, fortifying breath, and gently laid her hand upon her stretched abdomen, taunt with The Prophecy's child. The babe moved quickly against the pressure, creating a comforting, fluttering sensation. The love she felt for her child filled her, giving her strength. She didn't know how far they were into the ritual. By the amount of power radiating off of Merlo she knew she had to act now, before all hope would be lost forever.

With one last look of longing at the man she once loved, and one silent prayer for her unborn child, she stepped away from the shadow of the monolith. With her head held high, she walked into the circle.

The dark magic they were weaving seemed to pulse toward her, causing a fierce chill to pierce through her body. She silently stood watching the mob before her, ensnared in its power. Solely focusing on the evil they were creating. She stepped forward and couldn’t help but wince as a small twig snapped under her foot. The mob of followers stopped their chanting. Shocked, they turned their startled eyes toward Sarah. Some backed away in fear, others looked to Merlo for guidance. His hands dropped to his sides as he slowly lowered his head to look at her from across the fire. His molten silver gaze glowing with madness, with power.

“So, my love, you have arrived at last.”

Shocked that he knew she would come, she stared at him, her eyes beseeching. “Please, Merlo. What you are doing is madness.”

“Madness?” he chuckled, “Oh Sarah, you were always such a fool. Power is not madness. Power is everything.” He whispered harshly, face tilted in dark rapture. “With you here, it shall be far easier to overthrow the coven and their idiotic ideals than it would be trying to take them by force.”

She shook her head in denial, the fractured parts of her heart shattering while a lone tear slowly fell from her large eyes. “I cannot let you do that.”

“Oh, but my love, you do not have a choice.”

“There is always a choice Merlo, and I have already made mine.” With an outer calm that did not reflect her inner turmoil, Sarah gestured to her fellow coven members whom were hidden deep within the shadows of the graveyard and surrounding wood line. As they revealed themselves, Merlo's followers shuffled closer to him while looking around frantically. Their wide eyes and jerky movements lent a sense of hunger to their already grotesque masks. Like a pack of rabid wolves, waiting for the call of their alpha.

The fevered glint in Merlo's eyes seemed to deepen. He silently laughed as one would toward the audacity of a child. “You really believe that your meager group of witches and wizards will be able to stop me?” Merlo's blatant confidence instilled itself among his followers. Where previously they looked ready to run at the slightest threat, they now stood proud around the fire. Almost daring any to come nearer.

“They may not be enough to stop you, but I am. They are more than capable of restraining your petty group of followers.” She stared steadily into Merlo's eyes as she slowly withdrew the Divinity Stone from within the folds of her cloak. The firelight seemed to live within the hard facets of the stone. Burning with a power more forceful than that which Merlo had called forth. The Divinity Stone lay amid a pentacle that was wrapped lovingly in the arms of a crescent moon. The silver glinted in the light, causing the crescent moon design to shine harshly.

Weariness started to dull the molten silver of his eyes. “What trinket have you brought with you, my love?'

“You know what I hold, and you know I have the power to wield it. Please, if you had ever loved me, then stop this madness and come with me.”

“Come with you?” he said, anger brimming below the surface, causing the waves of power to pulse sporadically, feeding off the emotion like a parasite. “You mean surrender to you and have all of my powers removed? I think not.” He scoffed.

“You reap what you sow, Merlo. It is either surrender to me now or have your power forever be trapped within the Divinity Stone. Choose wisely.” At her words, the coven members started to move forward. They slowly surrounded the group around the fire, causing them to cluster. Tension rolled off of everyone in waves, flavoring the air with a bitter taste. The two groups pulsed toward each other, both calling forth their magic. Preparing for battle.