Oct. 18th,
I have dreamt of the future. I have envisioned a prosperous settlement for people of my kind. I have foreseen death and destruction take so many forms, it would turn any other man’s heart black. This very book I am writing in contains the light and dark times of a blooming community that I am at the helm of. I have ushered in the beginning. Yet, I fear, that with this entry, I am foretelling the end.
I see a time when my community is as flourishing as ever, long after I am gone. War and suffering are nonexistent. My decree to use our abilities to serve humanity has become law. My small village, which will be named after myself, will be transformed in to a kingdom, a utopia. A time when the sun will shine down on a people that, until recently, were casted within shadow.
But a cloud will blot the sky.
A change will occur. An objection to the ways I have mandated. And this grievance will usher a potential end to the ways my people will have known for generations. A great monster will be let loose. A conflict between a race that has grown to maintain harmony. Bloodshed will be great. Great heroes will fall from the sky. Brothers will become enemies. Enemies will become brothers. And, in the end, my vision will be transformed, adapted to a new way of existence, remodeled after a new prophet’s reverie.
Yes, at the eye of this hurricane is a boy. A simple child, as innocent as any to an eye that dost not belong to me. It shall begin when a crimson body flares in the night sky, which will shine its beacon three times at three different locations from the beginning of the boys journey to the end. The three guardians will follow the first illumination to the child’s birthplace, where mother nor father exist. The second will beacon on the eve of the eighteenth year, in a location within my Kingdom that has been barren for centuries. The third and final red sun shall bear witness to the end, where this child’s vision will be complete.
The child will grow to become more powerful in strength and abilities than any other of my kind has seen or will see until that very moment. He will posses the five original abilities, and able to conjure them with great ease and with even greater force. And he will be blessed (or cursed) with the power no one knows, or will ever have. He will use that power to destroy the ways of old, and create new world based on his image. I fear the worst is ahead.
Alas, a spec of light at the end of the abyss. I see hope for this dark time. I see the child, who will not only bring on this war, but will also usher in a time of peace, greater than ever before. He will be looked at as more than a monarch, a messiah, a sovereign for my people, who will shepherd them out of the blackness. I stand perplexed.
A child of peace, a child of war...
A child of life, a child of death...
A child of the end, a child of the beginning.....
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