The sky over Eldoria darkened, heavy with an impending storm. Thunder rumbled across the kingdom, echoing through the valleys and resonating against the high stone walls of the palace. King Alaric stood by the grand window of his study, watching as lightning forked across the sky, illuminating the distant mountains. Despite the peaceful reign he had worked so hard to maintain, an unnatural quiet had settled within the palace, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
A sharp knock broke through the silence, jarring the king from his thoughts. "Enter," he commanded, his voice steady yet wary.
The door creaked open, revealing a palace guard, his face pale beneath his helmet, eyes wide with urgency. "Your Majesty, the palace seer has arrived at the gates. He insists on an audience with you immediately."
The king's brow furrowed. The seer rarely appeared unless the matter was of grave importance. Alaric hadn't seen him in years, not since the seer had forewarned of a deadly drought that had nearly crippled the kingdom. For him to come unannounced, on a stormy night like this, was unsettling.
"Bring him to the great hall," Alaric instructed, rising from his chair with a sense of foreboding.
Moments later, Alaric entered the vast, dimly lit hall, where the seer stood in the center, shrouded in a deep cloak that flowed like shadows around him. His face was mostly hidden beneath his hood, but his eyes glowed faintly in the torchlight, piercing and knowing, as if seeing far beyond the mortal world. The air grew heavier, charged with the weight of an unseen presence.
"Your Majesty," the seer greeted, his voice low yet resonant, filling the hall with a weight that commanded attention.
"Seer," Alaric replied, his voice steady but his heart racing. "Why have you come on this dark night?"
The seer's gaze held the king's, unwavering. "I bring you a prophecy, Your Majesty—a prophecy that has been hidden, waiting for this moment."
Alaric's breath caught, his full attention on the seer. "Speak, then. What is this prophecy?"
The seer took a deep breath, his eyes dark with foreboding. "A child is to be born—a child destined to wield a weapon unlike any other. A sword forged by the gods themselves, bound to the heart of Eldoria."
"A sword?" Alaric echoed, his mind racing with questions.
"Yes," the seer replied, his voice now a haunting whisper that echoed in the king's mind. "This child alone will have the strength to wield it. The sword will respond to no other; only the destined one can unlock its power."
Alaric frowned, aware of only one sword within the palace that matched this description. In the palace temple, hidden beneath the great statue of the guardian god, lay a sword that had been kept locked away for generations. Its hilt was covered in ancient symbols, and legend held that the blade was imbued with a force beyond mortal understanding. Many had tried to lift it, but all had failed; it was as though the sword itself refused to be wielded.
"This sword…" Alaric ventured, his voice uncertain. "It lies in our temple. Could this be the weapon you speak of?"
The seer's eyes flashed with a strange light, confirming Alaric's suspicion. "Yes, Your Majesty. That very sword. It waits for the child, untouched until the time of their arrival."
The weight of the seer's words hung heavily on Alaric's shoulders, a realization settling in. The weapon had been in his kingdom all along, hidden in plain sight, waiting for its chosen master.
"What danger would require such a weapon?" the king asked, unease creeping into his voice.
The seer's expression grew grim. "A darkness is coming. Creatures of shadow—dark angels—will descend upon our land, bringing death and despair. Only this child, wielding the god-forged sword, can stand against them. Without the child, Eldoria is doomed."
Alaric felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He had heard tales of dark angels—beings of nightmare and ruin—but he had dismissed them as myths. To hear of them from the palace seer made them terrifyingly real.
"And how will we find this child?" he asked, his voice taut.
The seer's gaze turned distant, his voice heavy with certainty. "The child is hidden from us now, beyond reach. But when the time is right, fate will draw them to Eldoria. They will come to the palace, and the sword will recognize its master."
Alaric's mind spun as he took in the prophecy. Somewhere, this child was out there, bound to the fate of Eldoria by forces beyond mortal understanding. The king felt the weight of responsibility settle heavily upon him, his duty to safeguard the kingdom even as darkness loomed.
The seer looked at Alaric, his voice softening, yet still resonant. "The heavens have entrusted you with this knowledge, Your Majesty. But remember—this child will only appear when Eldoria stands at the edge of its darkest hour."
With a final nod, the seer turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Alaric alone in the vast, empty hall. The king stood in silence, his gaze fixed on the doorway, where the seer's final words lingered in the air.
Somewhere, a child was bound to Eldoria's fate, a child destined to save the kingdom from the darkness to come. And Alaric vowed to be ready when that day arrived, his kingdom prepared to face whatever the prophecy would bring.