Dreams (On Hold)

Is It A Prophecy?

Author's Note:
The picture above is of Abigail's father.
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Recap

But instead of it bursting open, I saw something peculiar carved into the dirty wall. I walked towards it to get a clear view of what was carved. I raised my hand and wiped off the dirt that stuck to the wall like a leech.

What was underneath the dirt, made my eyes and mouth open wide. "Now, what is this?" I said.

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There was something written on the wall in calligraphy script. I traced my fingers on the curves of the letters which were beautifully carved into the wall. It said,

The time has come

For she has returned
To the place of mist and evil,

Here she comes
to serve her people
With the greatest of her powers,

Awaited by the feared
Respected by the subordinates,

Her smile is the only key
Which opens the door to this fantasy.

By the time I finished reading it, my lips were slowly curling upwards into a smile. "Wow! This seems like a prophec-" I was interrupted by a loud noise coming from my left.

I turned to my left and saw the wall lifting up and opening a way to a huge hall with a chandelier hanging off its high ceilings, adding to the hall's beauty. It was brightly lit by the sunlight coming from the high windows. I cautiously stepped onto the sparkling white floor of the hall and looked around. To my right, the wall was equipped with several weapons. There were swords of all sizes and shapes. Then there were the daggers with beautifully designed gold handles. Different kinds of whips also lined the wall to my right.

But what caught my eye was a specific sword in the middle of the wall which was made of glass. It's handle was made out of gold and had a violet ruby embedded in it. I slowly moved towards the sword and looked at it in awe. I pulled it off the wall and held it in my hand, pretending to be a princess. Although it was made of glass, the sword was fairly heavy. With the sword in my hand, I walked to the middle of the room, just below the chandelier. I, then, stood with my left leg stretched out and the right leg bent a little. My left hand was outstretched in front and my right hand was raised and bend in such a way that the sword was pointing to my front and was passing from above my head.

Now what? I asked myself. When nothing came to my mind, I rolled my eyes at my childish antics and relaxed from my 'fighting position'.