Broken Glass - Taekook

The Saviour's Prophecy

(Edited in a/n: advance warning that this story deals with revolutionary themes and political intrigue, as well as reference to tyranny. The entire world is fictional, and there are no intentional references to real world events. Even so, I think it's best to give that warning.)

A hundred years ago, the land was a different place. Where burnt, empty plains now stand, glorious forests once flourished. Where mountains once stood tall, like guardians watching over us all, pitiful stone pillars crouch. Where ordinary people lived beside their fascinating neighbours, grief spreads faster than an infectious disease.

Life continues, of course, where it can. The trees still grow, in the places the soldiers have not yet reached. The people still sing, still hope for a better tomorrow, as they worry for their brothers and sisters closer to the capital. Creatures hide underground, in plain sight, away from the prying eyes of a tyrannical ruler who would crush them where they stood with an iron fist.

Peace, once a cherished old friend, has been declared the enemy. War, its dysfunctional counterpart, now rages across the oceans, replacing the trade deals with extortion and trickery, replacing hands of friendship with fists of hate.

In the furthermost reaches of this broken land, the people thrive. They know of the devastation, and can never forget it. But if taxes are paid, they live like kings, compared to the people who suffer right beside the capital.

The king is a hated man. But he is a powerful man.

There are whispers of Dark Magic, whispers of sacrifice and blood spilled to give him immeasurable power over the people he controls, the loyalty he commands from the order he was once part of. There are whispers of destruction, spread on the wind by the miserable and the oppressed alike. There are whispers of corruption, of slaughter and cruelty where joy used to live.

A hundred years ago, he came to this land, and he destroyed everything. Our old ruler, respectable and understanding, was thrown into captivity, died in dilapidated cells before he even heard about the true evil of this new ruler. His newly pregnant wife disappeared soon after, and nobody knows where she went, even now.

Some say that the new king killed her, or that the new queen dropped poison into her wine. Some say that she ran away, gave birth somewhere safe, handed the baby to a family she trusted. She may have died of childbirth. She may have survived. But she has been forgotten, in this new world.

Areas of the land that were once filled with magic now sit dry and deserted by all living things. Places of worship are abandoned, left behind in pursuit of the king's new belief system, in which he rules over everything. Following the group that led him to power through the murder of others.

Some are stupid enough to follow this blindly. Others? Not so much. But you won't hear about them, because they perished soon after they spoke out against everything. All that remained were those who didn't understand what was wrong. Didn't see that this wasn't a deity.

It was a monster.

The corners of this land remain relatively untouched; the people are kinder, more forgiving, but poorer. Sometimes, they thank whatever deity truly exists, that they have been given the chance to survive this takeover. But it's not long before the king will reach them, turn them into monsters like the rest of this decimated land. Something must change before this happens.

In a hundred years, many things can be erased.

But there's still a hint of what used to be there. The outskirts of the land have everything the middle misses: the magic, the life, the hope, and the places we all wish were more frequent. Forests. Towering mountains. Swamps and marshes. The endless ocean.

The magic that sits under the earth will never give up. It will never be truly removed, never replaced by the red-hot evil of a bloodthirsty tyrant. There is one last chance, one last hope before the entire land falls to the hands of this heartless king.

And it lies in the hands of an unconscious boy, floating in the waters of a river, holding a mirror inscribed with symbols he won't understand.

Magic will flow within this land again. It won't be tainted by the greed of someone who doesn't know what he destroys, tainted by the cruelty of the people who brought him to power, the people who raised him, and the people who now worship him. Gold rivers will flow, and the red streams of blood will cease.

This unconscious boy will change the darkness to light.

Welcome, Saviour, to Eithyr, a kingdom destroyed by one man's cruelty. You are the one who will bring back the old ways. You are the one who will take down the king. You are the one we will entrust our futures to.

We will wait a hundred years, if that is what it takes. But anyone loyal to the old ways will help you. The Saviour's Prophecy, envisioned by the royal seer before her execution, is enshrined in legend. And nobody knows if it will truly come to be. But if you really do come, you will be welcome here. You will be protected. No matter the cost.

A hundred years of pain and sorrow
A hundred years of uncertain tomorrow
All will pass as times go on
But then our magic will bring us our revelation

A boy, found completely asleep
Will awaken, far from the King's castle keep
Only aware of his name, nothing more
He will reopen the damaged door

The magic that once was gone will return
The king's embittered body will burn
We all will stand to let him pass
The one who comes holding broken glass