Rose's Thorns: The Wolf's Prophecy

15

Orion's pov

Orion was in a state of disbelief as he watched Rose streak up towards the castle. He blinked the rain from his eyes and counted the small fortune in his hand. This is the most money he is held since he left home. He took steadying breaths as his inner emotions slowly began to resemble the falling rain. Rose did not understand anything. He did not understand Rose. He did not deserve her coin, let alone her friendship. Her home, her trust. If only she knew what he saw every time he looked in a mirror. Living in a shadow is depressing, but the shadow following you is even more so. His green eyes. His black hair. He was a spitting image of the one man he mutinied most, and yet? It seemed he would never escape the demons placed by his side by his mind. If only she knew the truth, the one secret he had, that she did not know of. She would not be so eager to share what she had with him then.

The second she fell (literally) into his life, there has been a girl-sized space in his heart. He has never really had a true friend, and he did not know exactly how to pick them, but he knew that she was real. They were friends. No matter what he told himself, they were confidantes. Close. They were friends. And they just seemed to get even closer. So, what would happen when she leaves? If she leaves? Well, he just would not be whole. His tears began to fall with the rain as he thought of all he had come through. All he had fought against. He was alive. But for how much longer. How much could any of this last? Rose was all he had, and he would make sure that nothing or nobody would harm their friendship in any way. She was his only family. His only kind face. But would she remain his calm in the storm when she found out his secret?

Orion walked into a strange shop and sat down in one of the farthest corners. It smelled weird in here, and the windows were yellow with grime. Smoke filled the air while questionable characters slinked around corners. He only needed to stay until the storm stopped. A soft tune filtered in through the haze, slowly lulling him into a shallow doze. The kind where you are aware of certain sounds, movements, smells. But your body will not allow you to move, and though it feels as if you are continuously spinning, or like your body is falling endlessly, you know you have not left the ground. Suddenly, his body gave an involuntary hypnagogic-like jerk, and he was wide awake. Looking about wildly, he saw nobody in the pub, but an old, cloaked stranger who had just walked through the door from the downpour. Orion watched cautiously as the figure sat down and began to slowly reach across the table to a fountain pen and a piece of dirty paper. The stranger was covered completely in their cloak, which resembled a dark starry night. And then they did something that made his heart halt. His blood ran cold as the newcomer looked up, with a hooded face and no eyes he could see and stared directly at him. He began to panic. The weary months of being shunned and chased and hunted had instilled a deep irreversible sense of unease in the boy, so when the being reach for Orion, with an outstretched hand, long claw-like fingernails and bony fingers, full of jeweled rings, he did the one thing he thought of. Nothing. He was frozen. He was frozen in his seat. The gnarled hand beckoned urgently, but he could not make himself run through the back exit, much less to the creature. It came as a sad realization, that he was of no help to himself now. The stranger began to walk lopsidedly to the table that he occupied, and he just wished that they would turn somewhere else. He looked past the cloaked unknown, to the counter, hoping to find a worker or the shop owner, but to no avail. He was all alone. And the person just kept coming closer. And closer. And closer.

They were now at his table, gently pulling out a chair. Orion grimaced as the metal scraped against the wood floor, imagining the sound his mouth would make if the stranger suddenly got the urge to pull a knife out. But to his dumbfounded surprise, they did nothing of the sort, instead, they sat down and pulled back their hood. An incredibly wrinkled woman with glittering eyes peered at him. Her nails were not that long or yellow.

"I'm Flying Wolf" the old woman spoke with a raspy breathy voice.

"You Orion?"

"Uh. Uh yes. I Orion."

He mentally kicked himself. Get it together. The women looked at him with sharp eyes. "Remember these words I tell you. 'viri belli adducere dolor', the man of war, to bring the pain." The wise woman's eyes sparkled mistily, and she smiled slightly.

"filios hodie inducere pacem. The children of today, to bring peace." She spoke softly, but Orion felt the words as if they had been pounded into his head with a baton.

"Who are you? And how do you know me? Or all of this?" but Flying Wolf ignored him and instead slid him the piece of paper he had seen her scribble on earlier. A glance at the dirty paper and a glance back at the elder showed that she had disappeared. Across the table where she had been seated laid only a ring. He picked up the delicate thing and examined it, peering intently in the half-light. It was a strange sight, the jewelry. It was a shining silver ring with a deep red, hypnotic-like jewel in the center. Orion thought it could have been a ruby, or maybe a red moonstone, but he was not an expert at these types of things, so he did not bother to assume. The red stone had an odd swirl to it, that gave the impression of clouds, or the water's mist, where the sea met the land. He sighed deeply, shook his head, and pushed his palms into his eyes until he saw illusions. It had been one weird night. He looked one last time at the women parting gift and pocketed it. Then, gathering what little dignity he had, he walked towards the now present shop keeper and asked

"Sir? Do you mind telling me who that woman was?" The man looked up from wiping the counter and shook his head sympathetically.

"Women? Tha only one in tis pub is you lad, had a brandy?" His language was thick and exotic, but his message was clear. Orion shook his head once again, smiled, and backed out of the shop.

The sky was clear and dark now, and the only sound that could be heard was the cricket's songs and the people of the Meadow kingdom, getting ready to end their day. He began to make his way to the castle, sticking to the shadows as he had taught himself. The ring and the note felt heavy in his pocket, and for moments it felt like the ring was burning through, begging to be examined for longer. But he ignored the feeling and thought about other things, like the cynical message the old witch had given him. He knew the language she had spoken was from an ancient land, that nobody believed even existed. so how would she be speaking it?
And why?
What did she mean by 'the men of war" and "the children of today"?

It was told in many history books that you could find in any library in Tobias, of a deranged corrupted land with unstable rulers that had once been the most dominant star in the entire sky. There was no magic, no harmony, and no peace. It was an entire world of ungifted. They had no powers. They had only the rule of their leaders, who were ignorant to change, and feared what they could not control. The people were unable to get along with the other rulers or the neighboring lands, so they broke out in war. Sicknesses and hunger, bombs and disaster. The star was lost in explosions and was never seen, heard, or thought of again. Tobias took the story as a lesson, but only that. Nobody believed that it existed, but they understood the moral of the story. The difference was key to success. And war was the key to undoing. So, what could the women have meant? Which men were to bring war?
Could she mean...
 No. Of course not. She was just an old woman from the streets looking for a bit of extra coin. But deep down, Orion knew it was so much more than that.