in this book had used inks of vivid hues, and gold and silver paints glittered among the rainbow enamels of the script.
“Ah,” Ogden finally breathed, his fingers tracing lightly along the lines of a page. “Here we are. Both the Icarii and the Avar, often so dissimilar in nature, had a shared prophecy, a prophecy that dates back many thousands of years. All Icarii and Avar used to pray that they would not be alive when the prophecy came to fruition. Let me read it to you.”
He took a deep breath and began to read, his voice taking on a peculiar musical aspect. “A day will come when born will be … Two babes whose blood … whose blood …” He stopped, rubbing his eyes. “Cursed firelight!” he growled. “You should have brought the lamp back with you, Veremund. Here, can you read this?”
Veremund shook his head from side to side. “Brother Ogden, you know that my eyes are weaker than yours – perhaps the BattleAxe?”
Axis looked startled, but Ogden waved him over “The words won’t bite you, BattleAxe, and you have a young man’s eyes. I used to know these lines by heart, but ’tis so long since I had cause to remember them … Here,” his finger tapped the page impatiently as Axis sat down on the bench beside him. “The words start here.”
Axis stared at the page for a moment, but the writing was so strange and alien that he could not make out the words. He looked up at Ogden. “Brother, I can’t read this. The writing is foreign, and I –“
“Nonsense!” Ogden interrupted. “Look! Concentrate, and you’ll be able to read it – you’ll see.”
Sighing, Axis turned back to the page. He let one finger lightly touch the page; it felt slightly warm. He stared at the writing. The letters were strange, curved and exotic, and the words all seemed to flow into one another. The vivid colours were distracting. It was impossible. He frowned and leaned a little closer, his temples throbbing in the poor light. A wave of dizziness passed over him, and, when he blinked and cleared his vision, the writing had somehow come into focus.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I can read it. It is very strange, but … but I can read it.” A strange melody ran softly through his mind, but Axis ignored it.
“Then read it, BattleAxe, read it to us,” said Ogden quietly, his eyes riveted on Axis’ face.
Axis took a deep breath, and when he started to read, his voice took on a low-timbred musical quality, almost as if he were singing to himself.
A day will come when born will be
Two babes whose blood will tie them.
That born to Wing and Horn will hate
The one they call the StarMan.
Destroyer! rises in the north
And drives his Ghostmen south;
Defenceless lie both flesh and Held
Before Gorgrael’s ice.
To meet this threat you must release
The StarMan from his lies,
Revive Tencendor, fast and sure
Forget the ancient war,
For if Plough, Wing and Horn can’t find
The bridge to understanding.
Then will Gorgrael earn his name
And bring Destruction hither.
Axis paused a moment, although he didn’t take his eyes from the page. “Tencendor?”
“I will explain in a moment,” Ogden said quietly, placing a gentle hand on Axis’ shoulder. “Finish. Please.” Axis resumed reading.
StarMan, listen, heed me well,
Your power will destroy you
If you should wield it in the fray
’Ere these prophecies are met:
The Sentinels will walk abroad
’Til power corrupt their hearts;
A child will turn her head and cry
Revealing ancient arts;
A wife will hold in joy at night
The slayer of her husband;
Age-old souls, long in cribs,
Will sing o’er mortal land;
The remade dead, fat with child
Will birth abomination;
A darker power will prove to be
The father of salvation.
Then waters will release bright eyes
To form the Rainbow Sceptre.
“There is a break,” Axis said quietly, “then begins another verse.” He felt very strange, almost as if he were in the grip of a dream. The melody running through his mind had become louder, more insistent. He was thankful for the pressure of Ogden’s hand on his shoulder, and did not notice it tighten in shock the moment he continued to read.
StarMan, listen, for I know
That you can wield the sceptre
To bring Gorgrael to his knees
And break the ice asunder.
But even with the power in hand
Your pathway is not sure:
A Traitor from within your camp
Will seek and plot to harm you;
Let not your Lover’s pain distract
For this will mean your death;
Destroyer’s might lies in his hate
Yet you must never follow;
Forgiveness is the thing assured
To save Tencendor’s soul.
