TRES - CHAPTER ELEVEN - CROC PROPHECY
By snakey1021
- 217 reads
Anrhu jolted awake.
He felt the tremors of the massive earthquake shook the wide bed that he was on. The rattling of the heavy, carved, wooden chairs that adorned the room he was given created a racket that added to the confusion he felt from being woken in the darkness of the early morning. A deep rooted instinct from way beneath his subconscious pushed him to throw the bedcovers to the floor and ran towards the hallway.
Coming from the door immediately in front of his was Beatrice, her hair unruly from sleep. She was dressed in what could only be cotton pajamas colored pink. They looked at each other and without a word, headed towards the staircase to move to the ground floor and out to safety. The display cases that lined the hallway going to the stairs rattled and danced.
A deep rumbling from the ground sounded over the din of the moving furniture. From somewhere, the crash of a fallen fixture made of glass told them that things were falling, that the quake was strong. Not that they doubted the movement of the ground beneath their bare feet.
From a little further, they could see the outline of the kapre in the semi darkness, like them, he was rushing towards the stairs. There was no sign of the others.
The met at the mouth of the stairs and went straight towards the direction of the entrance door. Halfway down, in the middle of the curving staircase, they felt the quake stop, the silence that followed was eerie.
They looked at each other and felt a stronger aftershock that stopped after a split second. They grabbed at the wrought iron railings and waited for another vibration – it did not come.
“Do not worry, you are safe within the walls of my home,” the soft calm voice of Suklang Manayon broke through their worry. “The earthquake might shake everything within but it can never harm those that are in my care. And you are all my guests.”
They turned to see the goddess in her human form, still in the gossamer green gown that reminded each of them about the goddess’ other persona. She gestured for them to follow her downstairs where the demigod and Zoriah were already seated at the table where they had dinner the evening before. Manayon waved towards the table for them to sit, once seated, a servant entered with a tray filled with mugs, the delicious aroma filled the air with sweet scent of native coffee.
The boy’s mouth watered. He could not remember the last time he had coffee. Taking the offered mug from the servant, he cupped the warm ceramic and inhaled the bitter sweet flavor. He felt warm, and definitely awake. He took a sip and remembered why this particular native coffee was renowned for being one of the best; it felt like sunshine and smiles, wrapped and made liquid fire.
A smile it up his face, only to disappear when he glanced up and saw the anxious face of Labaw Donggon, his arms wrapped around the shoulders of his equally serious wife.
“Wow, this coffee is awesome,” came the excited cry from Beatrice seated beside the boy. He elbowed her and gestured towards the nervous couple, worry in his face. A pause.
“We have been up for a while,” the goddess suddenly spoke. “My nephew and I have been talking. There are a lot of things that you all did not know, but the time has come for you to be told of them.”
An uneasy silence fell across the table. The goddess looked from one to the other, finally settling her gaze to the crestfallen demigod and pregnant woman.
“There are sacrifices to be done, and you must hurry. The coming of the boy was the signal for things to move forward.”
“Me?” Anrhu could not stop himself from saying out loud.
“Yes, you are the last piece of the puzzle. The quake that awoke you was the last clue that confirmed what I though the moment you walked through my gates and within my protection.” There was a sad look in the eyes of the goddess Suklang Manayon, a trace of despair as if someone died. Anrhu swallowed to clear the tightness that suddenly seemed to grip his throat, his skin felt clammy and a parade of goose bumps gave his body a once over.
“You have rested for three days,” the goddess continued.
“What?” Beatrice cried in disbelief almost choking on the coffee that she was sipping with utmost rapture.
Not even acknowledging the girl’s reaction, Suklang Manayon carried on.
“In the centuries before the massive destruction of the quake, I and the other Guardians, gods and goddess like myself, my siblings, were within the caverns beneath Mount Kanlaon. We chose to live as legends and not deal with anything human that in time we became what we sought, just characters in the stories that were thought of as fiction. But we were there.”
“During those long years, words of a prophecy echoed in secret within the walls of our chosen prison. It spoke of the destruction that would eventually come to change the face of how the world looked like, it prophesied a time when creatures long thought of as unreal to once more roam the earth. As you all know that time has come,” the sadness contained in the eyes of the goddess spoke of the pain that she has witness, of the others that she cared about and those that could have been lost to her. But it also spoke of the pain she felt for them. Somehow, that was obvious to everyone.
“Other things were spoken. All of them could be true, or all of them could be make believe. But one of these stories, one of these prophecies spoke of a boy that will come after the apocalypse and it was said that he will make things right.”
They all looked at Anrhu. He sat in looked back, mute disbelief pasted on his unbelieving face.
“It had been more than a year when the last of the wakers awakened. But you awoke and everything has become unstable again. No quake has come after the massive tremor that reduced our land into rubble. But you know what came earlier,” the goddess pointed at the boy with long slender fingers. The gesture was cruel but her eyes only mirrored the pity she felt. Anrhu shivered.
“You must look for Vincent. Leave Zoriah with me and go as soon as there is light” Suklang Manayon finally said after a long period of silence when everyone was deep within his or her own thoughts. “Beatrice knows the way.”
The girl looked up, gazed into the eyes of the goddess and nodded.
“Vincent was with us deep within the caverns of Kanlaon, he told Beatrice of what was to come. Find him, he will tell you the words of the prophecy and what needs to be done.”
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