The Darkness Shall Rise

The faire had come to Cecil’s town for the first time in his life. The faire came to this lonely corner of the world only once every twenty-five years. Cecil was still in his mother’s womb when it appeared last. All his life, his mother had told him how an old fortune teller had made several predictions about his life that had all come true.

“She even told me when you would start stealing your brother’s toys. That’s how I knew where to find your little hiding spot.” She had said.

Cecil was less amazed by the woman who had known his future before he was born, than he was worried by the sudden stop in the predictions. The fortune-teller had given several predictions that spanned his life so far, but the final one had come and gone a year ago. It was then that his mother had decided to share the last words the fortune-teller had spoken to her.

“What lies in your child’s future is for him and him alone to know. I have given you the knowledge you need to protect him and ensure that he arrives back here twenty-five years from today.”

His mother insisted he go to the faire and find the old woman, even though she was certainly dead by now. So he had gone along to humour her. The faire itself was quite impressive with fire-breathers, magicians, the usual stands of food and games with colourful banners. There was a fortune-teller, but this was a young woman and not the one he was looking for. He spent most of the day wandering around casually, enjoying himself as much as he could even though he would much rather be finishing a project for work.

As the day wore on, he found himself wandering down a quiet alley near the back of the fairground. He had gotten turned around and was trying to find his way back to the main area. As he walked along, something caught his eye. It was a small tent of black and blue stripes, hidden discreetly near the fence. The sign in the front said it was a fortune-teller, but to put it in such a hidden location could not be good for business.

Cecil couldn’t resist a peek. Maybe this was the mythical woman his mother had spoken so highly of. He pushed apart the curtain door and stepped into the dark tent. There was a table in the middle of the floor and a bundle of blankets behind it. The room looked empty and Cecil was about to leave when the blankets shifted. An outline of a person appeared in the gloom and an old, weary voice crept from the pile of blankets.

“I’ve been expecting you.” She said.

The voice sent a shiver down Cecil’s spine. It was haunting. Much too old and tired. Despite the creepiness of the voice, Cecil tried not to snort at the cliché she had just spouted. Every fortune-teller or mystic said the same thing.

‘You’re early, Cecil.” The woman said.

Now she had Cecil’s full attention.

An old arm extended from the blanket and motioned toward the cushion in front of the table. Cecil approached and sat down uneasily.

“You know who I am?” Cecil asked.

“I’ve known you before your parents did, Cecil.” The old voice spoke.

“You’re the woman my mother spoke to before I was born. The one who told her about my life up until now.” Cecil said it as if it was a question, but the woman understood.

“That I am. I told her what she needed to know to ensure you arrived here today.”

“She said you needed tell me something about my future. Something only I can know.” Cecil said as his heart beat faster as the surreal nature of the encounter took over.

“Indeed, but do you truly want to know what your future holds?” she asked.

“Yes.” Cecil answered. He thought the answer would have been obvious.

“Even if the future holds something terrible?” the old voice asked.

“How terrible?” Cecil asked. He suddenly wasn’t sure if he wanted to know his future.

Knowing one’s own future grants a certain power, the power to change the future with a certain level of predictability. If you know what will happen, you can alter the events that led up to that moment, either for your own benefit or the misfortune of others. Knowing what awful events that lay in the future can drive a person mad. Cecil had heard tales of people who had predictions of attacks or disasters in the near future. They try to tell others but are passed off as mad or paranoid. When the disaster finally strikes and people die, those same madmen are investigated. They are blamed for the disasters and their lives are ruined.

Cecil was pretty sure that wasn’t what he wanted in his life.

The bundle of rags shifted again and the old woman moved closer, her face finally meeting the  light. She was ancient. Deep wrinkles covered her grey-skinned face. Her eyes were dull, almost all the life gone from them. Her hair was perfectly white. Any doubt Cecil had that this woman was the same fortune-teller that his mother had spoken to, was evaporated at the sight of her aged face.

“I have seen this for many, many years and it is a great relief for me to finally share it. It is the last thing I have left to do in this life. Once I have told you what lies ahead, I can finally die.” The old woman said, a small smile appearing on her face, making her wrinkles all the more deeper.

Cecil took a breath and asked “You want to die?”

The old woman made a sound that Cecil guessed was a laugh. It was difficult to tell.

“I have achieved everything I needed to in my life, but this last telling. It’s not that I want to die, but rather that I accept that I must die.”

Cecil didn’t know what to say to this and he guessed the old woman didn’t expect him to. The way she had spoken implied it required a level of understand that could only be earned through a long life.

“A darkness it rising, Cecil. It has yet to be seen or heard, but it can be felt. You can feel all around you. You have felt it creeping into your mind as you lay in the darkness of night. When you are neither awake nor asleep is when you feel strongest.”  The old woman began, speaking slowly. Her old voice added a haunting tone to the words.

“This darkness will grow quickly and spread across the world until only one bastion of light remains. There will be a great battle between the light and the dark that shall decide the ultimate fate of the world and all souls within it.” She continued and then fell silent as she awaited Cecil’s response.

Only one question appeared in his mind. “Will I fight for the light?”

Another smile cracked across the mystic’s ancient face. “No.” she raised a hand and pointed to Cecil. “You shall lead the darkness.”

The End