One Crown & Two Thrones: The Prophecy

by Iseult O'Shea

  “A door?”

  “Yes a door, small and golden.”

  “What did you do?” Galean asked, filled with curiosity and wonder.

  “I opened it and found myself falling through time itself until I awoke upon a marble floor within the folds of a great palace,” Eveline said with bright eyes. “The most beautiful palace you could ever imagine Galean, with a glass roof in the shape of a star.”

  “How beautiful,” Galean whispered into her hair. He knew the palace she spoke of, it was the royal palace of Caci, the city and seat of the High King, her father.

  “When I stood up, I found myself surrounded by a thick mass of people, standing to the side of a path that led down the centre of the nave, coming to an end before two thrones and a baptismal font,” Eveline went on, her eyes becoming glazed. “The thrones were beautiful, made of copper, gold and silver. When I stood up, the great doors of the hall opened and a procession entered made up of a young couple with their baby and what looked to be a priest, followed by more men in similar attires. I stood within the congregation and watched on as the couple made their way up the nave of the hall towards the font, the baby in the arms of the woman who I later came to know as the High Queen Unyae.”

  “What did she look like?” Galean asked prompting Eveline to furrow her brows.

  “That is the intriguing part,” she whispered. “This will sound odd and odd it was to me too, but she was in my likeness.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “She too had auburn hair and golden eyes like me,” Eveline said, her eyelashes flickering gently. “And when I found myself looking down at the baby, she too was alike her mother. I felt a strange sensation run through me as though I were a part of that child.”

  “And the King?”

  “He was tall and proud with keen eyes and a caring face,” Eveline said, finding comfort in the image of the King. “I could see his intelligence and strength in the eyes of the child and felt in that moment that she was greatly loved.”

  You were, Galean whispered inwardly.

  “The priest blessed the child and strangely enough said these very words,” Eveline took a moment to think. “Child of the Heavens, child of the Earth, we submit you into the arms of Heiden, God of the Heavens, and God of the Earth.” Eveline turned her body slightly so that her neck did not hurt when looking into Galean’s face. “Strange that he should use the name of your God don’t you think? And remember this was before I knew of Heiden myself.”

  “Strange indeed,” Galean mused, hoping his eyes would not betray him.

  “So I thought too,” Eveline said turning her head around, laying it back against his chest once more. “Then I fell back through time and found myself upon the grass, overshadowed by…by.”

  “You don’t need to say his name, I know the rest of the story,” Galean soothed quietly.

  “Do you not think me strange Mr Edwards?”

  “No,” Galean said firmly.

  “Then how do you account for such an event? Does this happen to every angel?”

  “You said that all things come from something remember?” Galean replied.

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe the dreams and visions you have are trying to tell you something?”

  “I wish I could understand them in a way that would make sense to me,” Eveline sighed deeply with frustration. “But you are right, they must mean something for I felt something within me stir when finding myself within them.”

  “Maybe in time you will come to understand their meaning,” Galean said kindly.

  “Maybe you are right,” Eveline whispered. “But everything at the moment seems to confuse me Mr Edwards, your revelations and my visions.”

  “You said that Lagar had spoken to you, may I ask again what it was that he said?”

  “He said that I had been hidden away like my mother,” Eveline said with grave eyes. “That she had been brought low, hidden from her people. That she would cry for my existence, that she wept when she held me in her arms, drawing her last breathe, with the knowledge that she been left destitute and alone like me.”

  “His words are poison, pay no heed to them Eveline,” Galean said gently. “He only wanted to cause you pain.”

  “I wonder how he knew my mother,” Eveline said with curious eyes. “I thought she had died in a car accident when I was young with my father.”

  “Eveline look at me,” Galean ordered. Eveline shook her head as her eyes watered again, causing her to feel deep seated shame for she rarely cried over the death of her parents. “Eveline look at me,” Galean ordered once more, softer this time. Eveline slowly found his gaze again.

  “Yes?”

  “His words are laced with poison do you understand?”

  “I understand,” Eveline said, biting down on her lip.

  “Good,” Galean replied firmly as Eveline turned her head and stroked Wordsworth, quiet and withdrawn.

  “I wonder why it is that I am being hunted Mr Edwards.”

  “In time you will know.”

  “I am afraid of being enlightened can you believe that, I afraid of being enlightened.”

  “It would seem strange, you being a woman who likes to broaden her understanding, but this is entirely separate from philosophy or morality, this is personal.”

  “I wonder what Theodore will think,” Eveline pondered.

  “Forget about your worries for now and close your eyes Eveline,” Galean soothed. “The sun has not yet risen.”

  “Thank you Mr Edwards for saving me and that young boy,” Eveline whispered as she closed her eyes. “It is nice to have a friend in times of peril and uncertainty. I can see why my husband trusts you so.”

  “He is a good man.”

  “As are you Galean.”

  Eveline yawned as she felt a blanket of exhaustion wrap itself about her, forcing her into a dreamless sleep, the noise of sirens and explosions falling away.

  VII

  City of Ruins

  The city of churches had in one night become the city of ruins…

  Alderman Thomas Underwood.

  Jophiel found Theodore standing before the long mirror which hung in the corridor of the Georgian house, owned by a friend of Theodore’s mother who had written to ask that they all travel south to visit her for Christmas. Mary was her name and her son George who had been a friend of Theodore’s had been killed in action some weeks ago leaving her in a darkened state of distress and grief. Jophiel stood at the top of the stairs, gazing down at the changed Theodore, his back straight and his face a blank canvas since that night in the St Barnes cemetery where he learned that his new wife was bound to his best friend, where their old mentor who had guided them through difficult times had given up his life for Jophiel, a dark reminder of the love Theodore had left behind. Any hope of reclaiming the lost love that had once been so full and bright was lost, his heart in the hands of another woman, a woman he had sworn never to bind himself too.

  They had barely spoken on their journey from London to Bath, each of them altered by the events of the last week. Jophiel had rejoiced inwardly at the arrival of their old friends, Ada, Bram and Peter who were now scouring Bath for any sign of Lagmar and Belem. They had spent the previous evening dining with one another, reminiscing over their old lives together in London before discussing quietly amongst themselves, how best to protect Eveline. Yet here they stood, once best friends, their lives intertwined, filled with both lightness and darkness, apart and barely able to acknowledge one another. As if hearing her thoughts Theodore turned from his reflection and lifted his gaze to her own.

  “You’re up early,” Jophiel announced as she descended the stairs gracefully. “Which is very unlike you.” Her words churned within Theodore forcing him to turn his gaze back to the mirror.

  “I like to rise before nine,” he said flatly, fixing his collar and tie. “I received a message this morning; Bristol has been badly hit by German bombers during the night.” Jophiel stood away f
rom Theodore.

  “You mean to go to Bristol immediately?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will come with you,” Jophiel replied firmly, collecting her red coat from the coat stand which stood close to the large Georgian door.

  “You do not have to come,” Theodore said curtly, turning to her with adamant eyes.

  “I want to come,” Jophiel said firmly, buttoning her coat up with a small smile. Theodore held her gaze before turning away abruptly.

  “If you wish.”

  Jophiel watched him walk away before sighing, her body relaxing. She wanted to go to Bristol not to be in his company but to offer him support if he needed it, if Bristol had been badly attacked then Theodore would need help in finding his wife. A few minutes passed before Theodore returned, opening the door and waiting for her to exit. Jophiel descended the white steps and stood at the passenger’s door, waiting for Theodore to open the car before getting in and resting her gloved hands upon her lap.

  “How long will it take us to get to Bristol?” she asked Theodore as he started the car.

  “About an hour I should think,” Theodore replied, resting a gloved hand upon the gear stick before driving away from the Georgian house. Jophiel kept quiet, letting her gaze take in the beautiful streets of Bath before they ventured north through the green countryside, passing farmers and other cars along the way. Each passed the time in uncomfortable silence until Jophiel could take it no longer.

  “Theodore can you stop the car for a moment please,” she asked hurriedly, turning to him with pleading eyes. Theodore did not answer he merely slowed the car down until it stopped before a gate that led into a field. Jophiel turned her body to face his own. “Before we go to Bristol I think we need to speak, frankly.”

  “What do you want to speak about?” Theodore asked quietly, looking uncomfortable.

  “We cannot act the way we are or those around us are going to become suspicious of why we tread about each other in the way that we have since being re united in London,” Jophiel stated with resolute eyes, her back straight and her shoulders firm. “I understand you may find it unpleasant to be in my company considering all that has occurred between us.”

  “I do not find it unpleasant,” Theodore interrupted.

  “Yes you do,” Jophiel said with wide eyes. “It would be illogical for us not be somewhat cautious around one another, but we are adults and should tackle this situation like adults.”

  “There is no situation between us Jophiel,” Theodore argued hotly.

  “Theodore I do not wish to come between you and your wife, I understand and am accepting that you love her,” Jophiel said with a kind smile upon her lips, betraying her true inner feelings. “This is not a time in which to be arguing over the matters of the heart, we… I mean you and Eveline are facing dangerous times and we all need to work together to somehow ensure that she can be delivered to St Pauls without getting tangled up in a situation with Lagmar or Belem, on that do we agree?”

  “Yes,” Theodore said with grim eyes.

  “What happened between us…,” Jophiel stopped as her voice cracked. Quickly she closed her eyes and sought strength. “That is in the past and should not get in the way of the future. I am here to help you as your friend. At least I hope you can accept me as your friend?”

  “You will always be my friend Jophiel,” Theodore said quietly, his gaze reaching her own. “But I am not ignorant of the fact that I left you heartbroken and married another.”

  “It is in the past Theodore, obviously our fates were not entwined and so I have to be accepting of what has happened,” Jophiel said with wise eyes. “We are standing upon the threshold of dark times, we need to cast aside our differences and focus on the future, focus on protecting the only being that can defend all that we stand for.”

  “I agree.”

  “Then can we start again as friends?” Jophiel asked with kindness and warmth.

  Theodore looked down into her face with kindly eyes. “Yes we can.”

  “Well,” Jophiel smiled with relief. “I am glad, for the tension between us was driving me to distraction. We were once a great team, you, myself, Ada, Bram and Peter, we can be that team again, even if under different terms.”

  “Your right, I was being petty forgive me,” Theodore said with a nod of his head.

  “Let us focus on Eveline and the bigger picture,” Jophiel said gently, feeling stronger and more content now that matters had been aired and sorted before escalating into despair.

  “Yes, lets.”

  “Right, now we have that sorted should we go and find your wife?” Jophiel smiled as Theodore started the engine once more.

  “Yes, she has been waiting a long time to see me.”

  Jophiel didn’t answer she simply smiled as her past lover turned the car onto the road once more, evidently more relaxed and sedate, both of them agreeing to settle their differences for the sake of the woman who had torn them apart.

  *

  Estelle and Belle stepped out onto Broad Street, early in the morning after receiving some food and water. Eveline, Galean and Wordsworth had not returned and she was trembling with anxiety, unable to sleep through the night as pictures of her daughter formed within her mind, teasing her with terrible conclusions. Standing among a crowd of people, she drew in a breath, the sight of destruction causing her to feel nauseous and unwell. Fires still engulfed some of the destroyed buildings. Ambulances and fire engines filled the street as men searched the debris and buildings for survivors as make shift ambulances filled with injured patients drove by the smell of pungent blood and saline filling the atmosphere. The Grand Hotel had been badly damaged, the front of the building rendered unrecognisable, the windows without glass and the hinges without doors. The sky above was pure and blue a slap around the wrist for all those on the ground who walked about in a cloud of disbelief, faces blank and eyes wide with terror. Bristol had been the victim of raids before but it seemed that the bombing campaign incurred the previous night had been on a larger scale bringing with it untold destruction and death.

  Estelle stood still, unable to find the ability to move as a man urged her to retreat away from the street as it was dangerous, the buildings unstable. The lips of the man moved but Estelle could not hear a word as she watched embers fall about her, covering the ground, now covered with a blanket of dust, debris and sand. The man before her waved at her to move but she did not take one step as Belle clung on to her tightly. Frustrated, the man finally gave up and turned walking away with his hands in the air, leaving her alone. As she stared into the abyss a tear fall upon her cheek as the fear of Eveline’s death arose within her. She felt Belle’s forehead fall upon the side of her own head bringing her back into reality.

  “We need to find a way to get to St Peters,” she announced to Belle who was very quiet and withdrawn. As she prepared to turn she noticed a figure standing within the cloud of dust, a figure she had seen before, the night that her daughter had been rendered unconscious, hovering in mid-air before their cottage. A figure cloaked in black, whose piercing eyes were upon her. Men and women walked about Lagar as he stood some distance away, oblivious to his presence as he simply stood and pierced Estelle’s heart with a coldness that knew no temperature. Estelle stepped back in horror, her body crashing into another causing her to turn her gaze.

  “I’m sorry,” a nurse said quickly as she walked around Estelle and off into the crowd. Estelle turned her gaze back to the place in which she had found Lagar to find it empty, he had vanished. She closed her eyes with relief and covered her mouth with her free hand.

  “Can we go now, please?” Belle begged, fearing the man cloaked in black would be back.

  “Yes,” Estelle said firmly, finding courage and strength. If Eveline had fallen prey to death then surely the Lord of darkness himself would not be stalking Estelle as though needing to make sure Eveline herself had not been killed. With this revelation came the realisation that Lagar knew where they h
ad been staying and now knew that Eveline was not with Estelle. With renewed energy Estelle turned on her heels and began to make her way up Broad Street, turning to walk down Newmarket Avenue which led Estelle to Tower Lane. With Belle in her arms and a need to find Eveline immediately, the lingering pain of having to sit against a wall all night fell away as she strode down Tower Lane making her way onto Pithay Street which lay close to Wine Street and the entrance to Castle Park. She stopped to take in a breathe, her gaze upon the destroyed park and street. Beyond the mass of people she could see St Peters Church, engulfed in flames and heard herself cry out.

  “No!” she cried, letting Belle down onto her feet and keeping her hand within her own as she stepped forward a little, straining her eyes. Belle looked over at the park and let out a small whimper.

  “Evie!” she said quietly as an ambulance passed by. Estelle looked down at the stricken child and found herself bending down before her.

  “Evie will be fine do you hear me? Galean and Wordsworth will have found her, you mark my words,” Strength lay in Estelle’s words, her eyes filled with determination. If Eveline had been taken from her she would know in her heart. Belle nodded, her eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears. Estelle wiped her eyes and looked up into the blue sky were two birds flew by in unison with one another. Together they crossed the street and made for the entrance only to be stopped.

  “My daughter was attending the evening service,” Estelle argued with a soldier.

  “No one is allowed in the church while it is weak and unstable,” the young man declared. “You will have to wait here for any news.”

  “Please I must find her,” Estelle cried out with sternness.

  “I understand your need to find your daughter, but I have been forbidden to allow anyone into these grounds until the area is safe,” the soldier said with equal sternness in his voice. “Everyone who is missing a relative is to make their way to St Stephens Church where any news will be directed.”