Unlikely

TWO

"I tell you the prophecy is pure hokum. Lies wrapped in a thin veneer of desperation and wild imagination. It is no true prophecy but wishful thinking on the part of some disillusioned sixteenth century monk." I cry as I pace Iz's small but well stocked library. I'd woken sometime around midnight, alone in that alley, with a terrific headache and a small chunk of rubbery, bloody flesh still in my mouth. Revolting.

"He couldn't have found you by accident. You were living in the bowels of the city. It's a maze down here as you well know. He had to have been looking for you specifically." Iz sits by his elegant fireplace. It is modest in size but crafted from fine Italian marble. Carved from solid green and white veined stone, a stag flees from dogs the size of horses and exotic birds perch high in the trees observing the chase. An odd hunting scene now that I reflect on it. Iz is relaxed in his antique smoking jacket of cranberry colored velvet, his feet propped up on a tufted leather stool. Gold wire framed glasses are perched delicately on his aquiline nose, making him appear more scholarly than crafty. Iz has no use for society or people in general but he covets all the elegant trappings.

"How do we even know he was a real monk and not some lunatic on a mission for his friends from Mars?" We have been over all this before, Iz and I. He is the only one I have shared the prophesy with, more from embarrassment than anything else. "He could think I'm John Carter, getting ready to save the Princess!" I am geared up but Iz waves me to silence.

"To end the endless wars, seek the one with eyes of light. The one of death born will grant the innocents their fate. Only through true sacrifice will peace be bought." Iz recites.

I grab my glass of red wine, wishing, as I gulp it down, that it resembled the color of blood a little less. I come up for air.

"I know what is written on that supposedly ancient scroll, I am not protesting it's existence, just the mistake of its being about me." I let the heat from the wine, and Iz has an excellent palette, burn away the last vestige of coppery sweetness from my mouth. I am still trying to come to grips with the idea that I've bitten someone, tasted human flesh. I'm vegan for cripes sake! "I am a monster, not some hero destined to save the world! What rot! I was an animal, just as likely to turn on the victim as that Separatist twit. I was driven by my senses, overwhelmed by them, enslaved...."

"Yes, yes. The sight of the full moon brought out your inner animal." Iz scoffs. "Why, you took a bite out of crime! Put an end to his misdeeds!"

"Are you quite done?" I am regretting telling him that I'd bitten the man on the butt.

Iz's eyes glint with evil humor, his glasses giving him a wizardly look. He actually is a bit of a wizard. He'd created my new identity after I been declared legally dead. Very helpful. Hard to get a job when you are dead.

"Fine, fine." He waves his glass about, nearly loosing a drop as the cranberry red liquid sloshes up the side. "You've clearly got a new manifestation. Let's focus on that for now. Say, I've been meaning to ask, why did you show up wearing trash?"

I sigh. This evening was giving him fodder for weeks worth of entertainment. I will never hear the end of it I am sure.

"My clothes were shredded to bits from the change and there wasn't a convenient clothing store open at midnight." I return to my chair furthest from the fire. The warmth is welcome but it would only dry my scales even more and I still haven't made it to the pool. I itched everywhere. I rubbed the back of my head where the victim nailed me with a piece of iron pipe. Guess I'd freaked her out more than the guy with the symbolic brands down his arms.

"Mmm, yes. So, plastic bags and a couple of cardboard boxes. Cheers!" Iz smiles and sips his wine. "Ah. Chateau Margaux! You beautiful, mysterious thing!"