Prophecies are such fiddly things...
May 29 '08
The Bottom Line A short fantasy spoof by CaptainD.
Prophecies are such fiddly things...
“You mean there’s nothing?”
“Nothing, I’m afraid.”
Aragrofindel groaned. “Nothing at all?”
“Nope.”
Pelligallos turned thumbed through the scroll again. “There really is nothing.”
“But we’re agreed on this whole ancient evil thing rising, right? I mean, this Moldevortorouson was supposed to be long dead and buried… right?”
“Oh yes” replied the Sage, “there’s no doubting that. He’s back alright, and if he’s not stopped soon, he’ll completely take over Gllopinnoderalll.”
“And…” Aragrofindel scratched his head in bewilderment. “There’s no prophecy about a hero rising, or a group of heroes, or a child who nobody thought would amount to anything, or an unlikely group of vagabonds teaming up and defeating the evil, probably with the help of some ancient artefact or weapon?”
Pelligallos sighed. “No, I’m afraid not. Not a sausage.”
“Nothing, perhaps, about a lowly Baker’s son avenging the murder of his parents, finding inner peace, becoming a national hero and just maybe marrying some really hot princess?”
“There is nothing like that, and nothing about an old former Chef turned Village Wise Man by default of being the oldest person in the village finding the secret of eternal youth either. I’m sorry old son, we’re just going to have to make the best of the situation without any prophetic guidance or divine intervention.”
They were interrupted by a squealing noise outside. Without looking up, Aragrofindel yelled “Thornaenlatoe, stop torturing the pig!!”
His younger sister looked aggrieved. “But I’m bored.”
“Well, go off to save the world or something!”
Though he couldn’t see it, Thornaenlatoe beamed. “Okay!” she said, and ran off.
Aragofindel put his head in his hands. “So we have to go forth without a prophecy, without any special weapons, armour or items, no guiding light, no unlikely alliance, no nothing?”
“Ahem… well, grammatically incorrect, but technically… yes, that’s about the sum of it.”
Later that night, after preparing supper, Aragofindel realised that his little sister wasn’t there. He went around the extended family and all the usual subjects, but she was not to be found. By the time he gloomily decided that he would have to abort his saving the world plans and go to look for her, it was the dead of night. Nothing for it – he would have to wait until daybreak before going.
A little after daybreak he awoke, and grumpily started packing for the journey ahead. Just as he was about to start out on his quest, Pelligallos burst into the cottage. “Eureka! I have found it!”
“Er… what?”
Pelligallos beamed. “The prophecy! Here it is, in the Annals of Burregallos:
The child of a murdered man who used to bake bread will come forth from the setting of the sun and bring peace to the world, but discord to those closest to the valiant one.”
“Wow” said Aragofindel. “It’s true then – I must go forth and destroy the enemy. I wonder if Thornaenlatoe running off is involved somehow? Maybe the two quests are intertwined.”
“I’m sure there is some connection,” said Pelligallos wisely.
There was a commotion outside, and great cheering. Aragofindel hurried outside and looked as his sister, carried aloft a huge crowd of cheering people, waved at him gaily.
“I knew people were fond of her, but I didn’t realise she was this popular!”
“Um, Arag…”
“Saves me time, I only have to save the world now, not my silly sister as well!”
Pelligaollos winced. “I don’t think you’re going to like it, but…”
The young man pushed past him and went to his sister. “Thorna, I’m so glad you’re back safely! You little rat.”
She hugged him happily. “Oh Arag, I had such a great adventure!”
He smiled at her. “Oh yes? And where did you go – Vorloten’s Cavern, perhaps? Jinngell’s Cave?”
“No, stupid. I did what you said.”
“Er… you did what? What did I say?”
Pelligaollos had caught up with them. “If you remember, you told her to go off and save the world.”
Arag’s face fell. “I did?”
“Yes you did, silly” said Thorna.
“And… you went and did it?”
“Oh yes. It was a lot of fun.”
With his face going a tasteful shade of deep purple and having some difficulty breathing, Arag managed to gasp “how?!?”.
“Ah well you see, it’s quite interesting. Turns out I’m only your half-sister, and my mother was a famous sorceress. My hairclip is an ancient artefact that grants invulnerability, and that funny bracelet that I wear, the one you always make fun of me for, is actually an item of such great power that it was the only thing that could overcome the defences of the great Dark Lord, Moldevortorouson. My sandals, which I happened to be wearing at the time, for some reason grant great speed and the ability to fly. So with all those things and a child’s natural lack of fear, I just went in and blatted the forces of evil.”
“Glurk…” said Arag.
“Thus fulfilling the prophecy…” muttered Pelligaollos.
“What prophecy?” asked Thorna.
Pelligallos cleared his throat. “The child of a murdered man who used to bake bread will come forth from the setting of the sun and bring peace to the world, but…”
“But?”
“Ahem… but discord to those closest to the valiant one.”
Thorna’s face dropped and she looked at Arag. “So, you mean my brother won’t like me now?”
Arag tried to be the bigger man, but failed. Grabbing a sword he lopped off Thorna’s head – or would have done, but of course she was wearing the Hairclip of Invulnerability.
The crowd instantly closed in on Arag, who was now sobbing.
“No!” shouted Thorna, “look how he shortness of breath because of sorrow that he tried to attack me!”
There was a grumbling noise from his direction about the sorrow being because he hadn’t managed to decapitate her, but she decided to ignore it.
“Well,” said Pelligollas, “all’s well that ends well”.
But, of course, that wasn’t the end of it.
Some years later, Pelligollas rushed into Arag’s home. “There’s something I need to tell you!!”
“Huh? I’m a bit busy, Pelli,” shouted Arag from the other room.
Pelli, finally in possession of a shortened name, struggled for breath – he’d been running all the way. “There’s… there’s another part of the prophecy! It hasn’t ended yet!”
“Hmm? Interesting.” There was the sound of a muffled thud.
His friend wheezed for a few moments before speaking. “The prophecy continues:
The valiant one will fall when she becomes complacent, and a new Dark Lord will rise up, more terrible and powerful than the first.
I’m not sure quite what it means, but we must try to stop it!”
Arag walked into the room with a grim smile on his face. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that, old friend.”
“But why?”
Arag looked at his hand. Pelli followed his gaze, seeing the horrific sight of Thorni’s head, detached from her body.
“Oh I say!” said he, “that’s just not on old chap!”
Arag merely smiled. “Silly girl. She came to trust me again and, just as I planned, got to the point of leaving her Hairclip of Invulnerability out. I now wear it, and shall rule the world! Bwahahahahahahahahaaaaa!”
Slowly, Pelli asked “what about me?”
“You, my friend? You shall be my accomplice, my second in command, gather the hordes of evil and help me to take over Gllopinnoderalll! Why our land has such a difficult to pronounce name I never could work out. I think it I shall rename it ‘Middle Earth’.”
“And if I don’t comply with your wishes?”
Arag looked at his sister’s cranium. “Well, old friend, I wouldn’t want you to make a wrong decision here. You’ve been known to lose your head before, but this time it could be more… literal.”
Pelligallos sighed. “Oh well, if you insist. As it happens I do know a large group of unemployed fell beasts who like fighting. I will join you, and stay loyal forever!”
“Great! Let’s go and take over the world. Starting with that Butcher ten doors down the road, those sausages he sold me last week were awful, and his wife wears the most atrocious clothes.”
“Onward then!” cried Pelligallos, safe in the knowledge that the last part of the prophecy, which he’d sensibly withheld, happened to mention that the Third Dark Lord - the one who would find the secret of eternal youth and would rule this land forever – just happened to be the second dark lord’s side-kick whose name began with P. It also mentioned exactly how the second dark lord would fall from power, and how his rule would be short.
Pelligallos smiled. All’s well that ends well…
Some Fantasy Book Reviews:
The Chronicles of Narnia by C S Lewis
Harry Potter by J K Rowling
The Silmarillion by J R R Tolkien
Lord of the Rings by J R R Tolkien
Mister Monday by Garth Nix
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