Dawn
The prophet sighed , the din of the tavern unable to drown out the visions he had witnessed.
Brown eyes shining in anger, sword raised into the air as blood dried on the man’s armor.
A blonde man pleaded with the townspeople, begging them to join their cause, to save themselves.
Blue eyes glowed as runes were drawn along the walls of the cave. The light faded to reveal the man’s tears.
Grey eyes closed as a breath left his chest. They opened again to stare up at the ancient statue.
He had seen glimpses of the four men he had dreamed of in this almost empty town. The prophet knew he would have to face them eventually.
He would eventually have to send them to their deaths.
The prophet had managed to avoid the quartet, but he knew that couldn’t last forever.
I all came to a head early on a rainy morning. The prophet was caught unaware, forced into a corner by a knight with hair the color of the morning sky. His armor still shone, though the sun hid behind the clouds.
“Who are you?!” He demanded, “Why do you watch me?”
“Why do you care? I am no one,” The prophet croaked with his voice that had long since been damaged. He made a weak attempt to escape the knight’s grasp but failed.
“I’ve seen you watching me, stranger, and my companion. So answer me; Who are you?” The knight demanded.
“I am no one of importance, please, just leave me in peace,” The scarred man begged.
“Roman! Leave the poor fellow alone!” A younger man said, pleading with the knight, pulling at his shoulder, a lute held in his other hand, “Violence isn’t the answer,”
“Leave it be, Patton, he could be dangerous,” The knight, Roman, growled.
“My prince, please, he looks but makes no move to help or harm. Leave him be,”
Another man walked over, clothed in black, a staff in his hand, “I agree with the child,”
“Hey!”
The black clothed man ignored the musician, “He has made no move to harm you, so why do you insist on hurting him? He does not seem to be an a state to do much at all any way,”
The scarred man sighed, leaning his head back into the wall.
“Maybe you should allow your friend here to talk before making such assumptions,” A cloaked man nearby said lightly, the grey eye he could see gleaming with mirth, “We all might find out the reason for his stares,” All four looked back at him, the knight releasing him and taking a step back.
“Well?” The black robed man prompted. The prophet cleared his throat.
“It is a long, long story. We shouldn’t be out in public when I tell it,” The cloaked man smirked.
“Good thing I know a dinky little bar with a bartender who won’t ask questions, eh?” The shadowed man, who still remained nameless, led the other four to a run down building, a shady man standing lazily behind the bar, slurping on some iced coffee thing.
“Virgil, babe! Where have you been?!” He yelled.
“Around,” The hooded man answers with a smirk. He pulled the cloak’s hood off of his head to reveal pale skin and eyes, and dark black hair. “How’s your husband?”
“Emile is great, what can I get you and your friends?” The sun glasses wearing man asked politely.
“Nothing too alcoholic and some privacy,” The hooded man, Virgil, said. The bartender nodded and gestured them over to a table in an abandoned corner of the dingy tavern. Virgil led them over. The five sat, accepting the drinks gratefully.
“So who are you, what’s this about,” Roman demanded, looking at the prophet.
“That, my valiant fellow, is quite a long story. Where to start is the question,” The scarred man pondered.
“Perhaps the beginning, would suffice,” The wizard, who had long since introduced himself as Logan, suggested.
“Perhaps so,” he allowed,”My name is Elijah, and I am oracle for the wicked, self proclaimed queen of this land, though not my choice. I was captured during the rebellion, before which I happily served the Council of Four-”
“But that would make you hundreds of years old?!” Patton exclaimed. Elijah leveled him with a flat look.
“If I may continue?” Elijah asked. The blonde nodded sheepishly. “Thank you. As I was saying, recently, I made my escape from the tyrant’s castle and made my way here,”
The knight, Roman, spoke up,”That doesn’t explain why you were watching us,”
“I am curious to discover that as well,” Logan commented, twisting his staff around next to him. Elijah sighed, looking at the black cloaked man.
“I suppose you all are. Prior to my escape, I had a dream, a prophetic dream. It told of four men, each pure of heart in their own rights, who would be able to take down the kingdom’s oppressor and rule the land in the same spirit as the council did long ago,”
Virgil snorted, “You’ve got the wrong guy, mister, I’m no hero, and I’m certainly not pure of heart,” There was silence around the table, thunder rolled outside. The cloaked man glared at the sky.
The prophet looked at each of them.
Roman, with his gleaming armor and fierce determination.
Patton, with his sunshine smile and kind hand.
Logan, with his sharp wit and aura of power.
And Virgil, with his dark cloak and mysterious appearance.
“I assure you, when I move to bring forth a prophecy, I am never wrong. You four are the heroes this land needs. I will give you time to pack. I expect you all to meet me on the northern side of town at daybreak,” He stood, and with a flourish of his cloak, disappeared into the night. The remaining four sat in silence for a few minutes. Roman then sighed.
“I suppose I will see you all in the morning then?” He asked, standing. Patton smiled.
“Absotibly!” The golden haired man said cheerily as he followed. The mage gave a curt nod as he stood as well.
“I have not made my decision, but I will likely join you,” The four looked at Virgil expectantly.
“How about you, dark and stormy?” Roman asked. The cloaked man scoffed.
“Running to my death? No thank you,” Virgil snarked. The knight, bard, and mage looked down at him. Patton made a sad noise.
“We’ll leave you alone then, kiddo,” The musician said with a sigh, leading the other two away.
As they left, Roman declared loudly, “We’ll be fine without him, we don’t need Mr. Down in the dumps! We can take the Dragon Witch down, just the three of us!” Virgil winced, sighing as he watched them leave.
“That was a little harsh,” The bartender commented, glancing at the cloaked man.
“It’s fine, Remy,” He sighed.
“Are you sure you don’t want to do this? You’ve wanted revenge for so long,” Remy asked.
“I don’t care about revenge anymore, Rem. I don’t want to waste my life on hate,” He slipped his black hood back over his head and stood, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Remy nodded, turning back to his cleaning. The cloaked man entered into the darkness of twilight, walking the opposite of the trio who had left earlier.
As he walked through the dark, a glowing apparition appeared, walking next to him. Virgil sighed, stopping, “Hello, my lord,” The apparition scoffed.
“I told you just to call me Thomas,” He said softly with a smile.
“Alright, Thomas, why are you here, why now?” He looked at the deity
“I think you should do it,” He said gently. Virgil groaned. “I’m serious, Virge, you know what I can see. You will find your place among them, I swear to you,”
“I could also find my death,” The cloaked man said pessimistically. Thomas rolled his eyes.
“So will they, if you refuse to go with them,” Virgil winced, “I know what you can do,”
“That was a low blow, my king,” He snarked. The apparition rolled his eyes.
“So will you do it? For me?” He begged.
Virgil rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh, “Fine, but only if that’s what you’re ordering me to do. That way if I die, it’s your fault.” Thomas squaled in joy. The cloaked man flinched away, covering his ears
The apparition winced in sympathy, “I’m sorry. Take care of yourself, okay?”
Virgil nodded, “Say hi to the others for me, okay?” And then Thomas was gone. The cloaked man sighed, trudging back to his room.
And the night was silent and still.