As I have dragged myself in a desert, thirsty for spiritual powers,
a six-winged Archangel appeared before me. With fingers light as a dream
He has touched my pupils. My prophetic, frightened eyes have opened. He
touched my ears- and filled them with cries and screams. An I have understood
and felt the shudder of Heaven and fight of angels and underwater movement
of the sea beasts and chillness of the far-away vine. And then He pressed
himself to my lips tore out my sinful, cunning and dirty mouth and wize
forked tongue of snake into my freezing lips he had thrust with his bloody
right hand. And he has cleaved my chest with a sword and took my trembling
heart out of it, and blazing live coal into my open breast He has inserted.
I have lied like a corpse in a desert when Creator's voice has called to
me: ''Sand up, o prophet and see and listen and be my will. Go circle seas
and lands and with your word burn the hearts of men''.
A ragged man sat at a campfire.His white, long hair were very thin, almost transparent. A gray, old robe was all he had on him.The old man's eyes were covered with a piece of cloth.Allthough he was blind from his birth, he had the other type of vision. He believed that he is a prothet and can perceive things others cannot. He believed and didn't like to be doubted. That was the reason why he never doubted anyone. He was neither of the forces of Light nor of the forces of Darkness. Neither of the two could be destroyed, so he believed, and people have to know that.
He stood up and removed a piece of cloth covering his eyes. Eyes that had no pupils. He looked from the cliff where his campfire situated. Thre lied Randland and he had to go there. The milky ocean of his eyes pulsed. Suddenly what was pure white became absolutely black. He had no control over his prophetic talent but he felt the surges rising. He looked at the horizon and ''saw''. There, in the clouds he saw two mountains. He recognized them: they were Dragonmount and Shayol Ghul. He understood clearly. He will have to go to each of them and bring his word. he has never chosen between these and never intended to but now he must choose. He remembered something from his childhood:
''Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the prettiest of them all''- he chanted, pointing fingers. Strangely, in the end his finger pointed towards Shayol Ghul. He wondered what beautiful can be there at the Dark One's prison site. Well, he will have to find out.
P.S. Greetings to you, WoTA posters. Peace favor your swords, whips and collars.
Prophet was troubled. Getting into the palace was easy. He wondered,
why there were no guards. Was the Shadow so sure of itself. He lifted his
head and drowned in those eyes. Ah, those eyes. A surge rose inside him.
He almost needed to kneel and worship. Worship that woman. THAT woman.
Silence trembled. ''I don't wish to ally myself with anyone, Light or Darkness, but we could be good friends''. That terrible feeling again. Prophet suppresed it. No time to go insane. Must work. ''I wish to express my deepest respect toward you, o Great Mistress''.
Ariella did't answer. She only smiled.
Ariella regarded the man standing before her with a mixture of curiosity and a little awe. She had seen several such men over the ages, men touched directly by the Pattern, prophets walking the edge of madness. She sat silent for a long while, considering. Prophets were dangerous men, dangerous not because of the messages they bore but because of the way other men might interpret those messages. There were some who might kill such a man, hoping in that way to change the fate of the world, but Ariella knew better. Whether this man lived or died, the Pattern would continue.
At long last she replied. "You are welcome here, Prophet, and I thank you for your words of courtesy. I understand that you cannot choose sides, that your gift will not allow it, but I would take you up on your offer of friendship." She rose from her seat and offered him her hand. "But if we are to be friends, you must call me Ariella..."
Ariella, the Great Mistress of the Dark, friend to prophets through the Ages...
Nightfall had felt a presence, someone of great power that had come to Shayol Ghul. One that even the eyes that had plagued him so was wary of. However he also knew this...being was not for him to worry about. Still he had to meet this person. Mainly through rumor and vague hints had he learned of someone that had come this far. So quietly he approach the Great Mistress' audience Chamber. There he could make out a figure, an old man just as many had talked about. He knew now that this man was no threat but that the eyes that none could see, wanted him dead. However, Nightfall was more ready for their assualt and also the Great Mistress was near. So after the man had left he walked slowly into the Great Mistress' grand presence. "Great Mistress, I beg your leave to speak to this man. I know that you have helped me more than I ever thought I could. I thank you. But I believe this man can help me to become whole. And whole will I serve you. I await only your reply" The Great Mistress looked down on her loyal servant Nightfall as he waited, those eyes of her, pentrating into the night....
Nightfall, having some fun and welcoming the Prophet too