One Crown & Two Thrones: The Prophecy

by Iseult O'Shea

  “I understand Mr Edwards,” Eveline whispered as she got to her feet, folding up the blanket and setting it down upon the chair.

  “Eveline I did not mean you offence, you must see that I cannot stay, my staying will only irritate Theodore further,” Galean pleaded rising to his feet also.

  “I thought we were friends Mr Edwards?” Eveline asked with solemn eyes.

  “And we are of that I assure you,” Galean urged coming to stand before her. “But your husband is right, I need to leave you both in peace. This burden of the prophecy will only cause things to escalate into a situation that will only cause division and pain. If you are to be protected then you need to be surrounded by those who are united and strong.”

  “I understand,” Eveline said submitting to the truth, for he was speaking in earnest as they both knew it. Galean had nothing to say and simply looked on, defeated and bent. “I think I will retire now if you don’t mind?”

  “I mind not,” Galean said quietly, waving her away with the flick of his hand.

  “Goodnight Mr Edwards…Galean.”

  “Goodnight Eveline.”

  IX

  Something Wicked This Way Comes

  All things can corrupt when minds are prone to evil…

  Ovid.

  “Dominus,” Lagmar announced as he bowed low before Lagar who sat upon his throne of flames.

  “Kyrios,” Belem exclaimed also bowing low before his master. Both demons stepped aside as another, older and darker demon made his way forward.

  “Adon,” hissed the demon as he bent to the marble floor made out of ash, kissing it before arising to stand before Lagmar and Belem. Lagar smiled weakly before settling his lips into a straight line, his dark eyes sparkling and deep.

  “Have you infiltrated her mind?” he asked coldly as his snake Nagtium slithered between his bare feet.

  “Yes master,” Nathaniel answered clearly, his open mouth revealing his pin pointed teeth, sharp and long. Nathaniel was Lagar’s mouth piece.

  “Does she weaken?”

  “Her mind alters and has submitted to my powers,” Nathaniel hissed quietly, his orange eyes alight and hot. “Soon she will fall completely, soon she will willingly do as I bid her.”

  “What of her husband?” Lagar turned his cold eyes to Belem.

  “The seed of doubt flourishes,” Belem announced with confidence, his deceitful eyes merry with intoxication for he revelled in the torture of angel’s, his removed ancestors. “His heart beats wildly for vengeance and power. He alters with every breathe he draws.”

  Lagar rose from his throne and descended the cold steps to come stand before his most trusted demons. Beautiful was he the creature of the night as he gracefully strode about his demons thoughtfully.

  “And what of the lover?” he hissed deeply, coming to stand behind Lagmar, his lips close to his servants ear.

  “He suspects that the bitch has been bitten,” Lagmar said cautiously. “He sticks to her like a leech, always suspicious, always present.”

  “He must be killed!” Lagar whispered with venom. “You promised to kill him.”

  “And I will my lord,” Lagmar promised faithfully. “When she comes to me in the night seeking her husband and brat, he will follow and so the blade of darkness shall pierce his heart, rendering him to dust. Dead.”

  “And you shall be richly rewarded,” Lagar smiled as he gently touched the side of Lagmar’s face with his long fingers. “For if he lives then the prophecy lives and all that we have fought for will be for nothing and that bitch will sit upon the throne.” Nathaniel turned to his master.

  “You do not wish her dead my Lord? May I ask why?” he asked with an air of curiosity. Lagar looked up from Lagmar’s shoulder and smiled.

  “A fool would rid themselves of the only key to the garden of Calhuni,” Lagar replied with a deep smile, which altered his cold and distance expression, riding his beautiful face and in its place teasing at the darkness within. Nathaniel nodded understanding his master completely.

  “I don’t understand,” Belem interjected as Nagtium slid over his feet towards his master. Lagar stood away from Lagmar and waited patiently as the snake slid its way up his legs, under his black robes causing the material to ruffle until finally the snake re appeared as he wound his way about his master shoulders. Lagar tenderly stroked the snake’s face before turning and walking towards the open doors of his palace which overlooked the vast Kingdom of Helnuthe.

  “Only a being of equal power can rid the universe of its God,” Lagar said aloud, his body turned from his most trusted servants. “My power is vastly deeper than your own,” he smiled. “But unequal to Heiden’s. My power only equals my brother’s, Michael.”

  “What off your son my Lord? Is he not equal to Heiden?” Lagmar asked, walking slowly towards his master, whose body froze in response. Yes, his son was more powerful than himself which was a great risk, this he knew. But what those around him including his son did not know that they were all just puppets in an ever deepening game that only he was enlightened upon, a game where he and he alone would become the most powerful being in the universe. Heidan was but a pawn in a game that he knew nothing off. It would be no easy thing killing his only off spring but it had to be done and once his son had access to the garden of Calhuni he would call upon his father in exaltation. Only the heir of Calnuthe could find the garden and the throne within. If his plan went accordingly then his son would kill his sister and take the throne, this Heidan knew but what he did not know was that when seated upon the throne the power derived from being crowned King, would flow into his blood thus anyone who shared his blood would become heir to Calnuthe whether they were accepted by the God Heiden or not they had equal claim to the throne and the power it gave to those who sat upon the ancient chair. Once his son had claimed the throne, he in turn would become an heir and so it only seemed logical that he kill his son, claim the throne and lands (which he cared little for) and the power derived from God himself. With that power, he, Lagar of Helnuthe would become Heiden’s equal and when that day came he would unleash hell upon the seven corners of the universe.

  “She is useful to me,” Lagar said simply, feeling Lagmar’s presence behind him. “If she is killed you may count yourself dead too.”

  “No one will touch her,” Lagmar promised. Lagar turned swiftly to Lagmar.

  “If she mates with that bastard of a prince or takes the throne of Calnuthe she will unstoppable, make sure you kill that bastard before he can plant his seed within her and create a child more powerful than you or I.”

  “But Galean holds no power,” Lagmar replied quietly seeing the anger seep into his masters eyes.

  “He is of Gabriel’s blood, Gabriel is the only angel who shares Heiden’s blood,” Lagar said curtly. “Galean is his descendant. They must not breed. He must be killed.”

  “He will my Lord,” Lagmar promised again, bowing his head slightly in reverence and fear for he felt the power radiate from his master.

  “Then go, all of you and do not come back to me until you have taken care of what needs to be taken care off,” Lagar said darkly. “And mind that if you dare return with ill news you will feel the back of my hand.”

  *

  “Are angels and demons the only beings that possess magic or power for a better want of the word?” Eveline asked her husband as she brushed her hair gently in front of her dressing mirror. Theodore sat upon the edge of their bed and laced up his shoes.

  “No, angels are known to have human partners and thus their children are born with gifts,” answered Theodore as he watched his wife brush her long tresses of auburn hair, her mirrored gaze upon him.

  “And what happens to these gifted children?”

  “Before I was assigned to protect you I had the job of seeking out those that were gifted and taking them to Anglesey with the agreement of their parents of course, to a school called Ravinston.”

  “A school for those with magic?” Eveline se
t down her silver backed brush and turned with curious eyes.

  “Yes, there are three within the united Kingdom,” Theodore nodded as he got to his feet and made for the mahogany cupboard, opening the doors and searching within for his tweed jacket which he found. “One in Anglesey, another in the highlands and a smaller school along the northern coast of Northern Ireland. Ravinston is the parent school being eight hundred years old, headed by a great man called Alsandair Cellach.”

  “Anglesey is known for its deep history concerning druids,” Eveline murmured aloud as she turned to the mirror once more, opening a small silver box that held her hair pins. “Am I right in thinking that the roman general Gaius Suetonius attacked the island in sixty AD? Around the same time as Boudicca’s revolt?”

  “You always were quite the historian,” Theodore smiled as he came to stand behind his wife, planting a gentle kiss upon her head. Eveline looked up into his face, considerably smoother and calmer a fresh change from his persistent state of anger which had led to them having several serious arguments over the last week. She had found herself having to tip toe around her husband, fearing the end of the day when she would have to withdraw herself from the company of her friends and retire to their bedroom. She wondered is his anger stemmed from her reluctance to consume their marriage due to having spent so little time with one another in the last year and half, wondered if it was a mixture of her reluctance, the presence of Jophiel and the Galean.

  “How many attend the school?”

  “Around a thousand pupils,” Theodore returned as he picked up his own comb from the table and combed his fair hair.

  “And do the community of Anglesey know of the schools purpose?” Eveline asked with furrowed brows.

  “No although many have their suspicions,” Theodore replied as he combed his fair hair gently. “The school is within a private estate quite some miles from the nearest village and protected by physical walls and enchantments.”

  “How intriguing, I wonder why I never attended?” Eveline smiled with intrigue as she pinned her hair delicately.

  “You are too precious and have been hidden away for a reason,” Theodore said with seriousness.

  “I wish you would tell me why Theodore, I am you wife?” Eveline urged sensing the change in atmosphere.

  “Why must we argue over this Eveline? You know I cannot tell you no matter how much I wish too and trust me I do,” Theodore said darkly. This side of her husband and friend she had never seen before, this altered being who seemed to be distant ghost of the Theodore she had grown up and married. It frightened Eveline how little she really knew her husband, it frightened her more how she unconsciously became submissive to his moments of rage, fleeing from his presence to find comfort in the library, alone where she could lick her wounds.

  “Theodore I don’t wish to argue with you, I find myself unable to say anything without receiving the sharpness of your ever troubled tongue,” Eveline said with straight shoulders. Theodore stopped combing his hair and looked at his wife’s reflection. “This is not the Theodore I married, you were never so angry or troubled as you have been this last week. You hesitate to tell me about your past and about who you really are. I understand you may be a little angry that we have not yet…not yet,” Eveline bent her head in embarrassment.

  “You know I would never force you to submit your body against your wishes, I’m not that much of a scoundrel Eveline!”

  “I know you are not, but I wish you would tell me your troubles so that I may help you,” Eveline bite down on her lower lip, trembling with emotion.

  “I’m fine,” Theodore lied as he smiled weakly, wanting to comfort his wife. “I will feel better when we can go home and be freed of the constant presence of people.” You mean to be free without the threat of Galean and Jophiel, Eveline concluded inwardly. “Don’t you agree?” Theodore looked into his eyes as though searching her soul for an answer.

  “I like the company of your friends, they are kind and have been very good to me,” Eveline whispered with sullen eyes. “Without their aid I would not be sitting here as your wife.” Theodore turned from Eveline and walked away, resting a tense hand upon the frame of their bed.

  “Such saints they are,” he murmured with closed eyes, hating the jealousy that had flowered since that night within the cemetery. Eveline was right and he knew it, she was not at fault it was he who was making life unreasonable for her and yet he couldn’t control his warped mind. He wanted to laugh off the idea that fate had bound his wife to Galean, the ever praised hero and warrior, the prince of angels and King to be. He was jealous of the friendship that had bloomed between the honourable Galean and his wife, both of whom shared similar pasts and heritage. But if he were to look deep within he would conclude that at the heart of all his problems was Jophiel, the quiet and graceful Jophiel who willingly submitted herself to the pain of his broken promise, who rose above vengeance and jealousy and found friendship and solace in his wife. She should have hated him, she should have confessed to Eveline how deceitful and greedy he had become in his lust for more power and praise. But Jophiel was ever the gentle and forgiving woman, the woman he had fought tooth and nail to have in marriage before being offered an assignment not even he could have dreamt off. She had refused him for years before finally succumbing to his feelings and opening her closed off heart to him, a heart that had been badly used in the past when she was younger and naive to those who wished to simply use her for her rare gifts and position.

  Of course he could not blame himself for marrying and loving Eveline, he had no idea of his true being, his mind had been stripped of the memory of his previous life. He had fallen in love with Eveline with a true and trusting heart. He had been devoid of the complicated personality of his previous self, Cael. He had been altered to such an extent that he had completely changed, he was happy and optimistic wanting to just be a pilot and husband. The flaws of his character had been discarded when he morphed into a child. All his past regrets and acts had been washed away. But he couldn’t run away from himself for long and with his enlightened state came all the complications of Cael, all the regrets, pain and history. His anger derived from his corrupt heart that found itself in love with two woman no matter how hard he tried to delude himself, how hard he tried to stay away from Jophiel or how hard he tried to do away with his previous self. He was not a bad man, he had many flaws but he was not bad. He had spent his life aiding those more vulnerable and mentoring those who could change the world.

  “Theodore?” a soft voice brought him back from his thoughts.

  “I’m sorry what did you say?” Theodore replied gently, letting the anger seep away for what use was it if it only brought tension between himself and Eveline. He had to trust in her love for it was the only thing standing in the way of the prophecy and Galean.

  “You should be proud to have friends like Jophiel and Galean, they are good people with only good intentions,” Eveline re iterated as she rose from her chair and walked to her husband, laying her gentle hands upon his tense arms. “They mean you no harm. And we should not forget Ada, Bram and Peter, such delightful characters they are, full of mischief and life. I have never had friends before and I rather like having them, especially when I consider my dire situation.”

  “Ever the optimist,” Theodore smiled, turning to his wife and looking down into her golden eyes.

  “I have never known you to be this angry Theodore, never,” Eveline whispered with concern. “We should despite all that is happening around us be swept up in loves warm embrace, instead we argue constantly about who it is I spend my time with or how I spend my time.”

  “Can you blame me?” Theodore answered with urgency. “When you are not spending hours cooped up with Belle you are taking long walks around Bath with Jophiel, talking about God knows what,” Theodore waved his hands about in distress. “And then you spend your mornings with Galean, learning how to protect yourself with knives and daggers. When do we ever have time for us?�
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  “Theodore I invite you to come with me when I go for walks,” Eveline said with pleading eyes. “I try to bring life into your always sullen eyes but you are always busy with matters of urgency…I wonder if you are…,”

  “If I am what?”

  Theodore and Eveline stood apart from one another, their eyes fixed upon on another. What had happened to them Eveline pondered as she looked up into the tense face of her once calm and unaffected husband and best friend. Of course she knew the reason behind all this explosive drama that was taking place within their marriage. But was he really so bothered by a prophecy? So bothered that it had altered his frame of mind? And was he right to feel bothered? Eveline could not deny the growing friendship between herself and Galean, she had felt a distinctive connection to him from their very first meeting, but was it straying too close to the line of impropriety? Was she at fault? Again the seductive voice within, the beast that had crept out of the lingering shadow of her soul whispered, yes. And why should she refute the beast’s whisperings? For he was right, she had ruined those closest to her without consciously knowing. An ever growing storm was whirling not only within her but outside of her, a storm that grew stronger with every minute that passed, a storm that made shadows of all that lay within its path.

  “Jealous,” Eveline whispered fearfully taking a step back.

  “Should I be jealous?” Theodore whispered darkly.

  “No,” Eveline said with authority, betraying her inner anxieties, she did not know or trust this version of her husband.

  “You are my wife,” Theodore said with a possessive voice.