21 The Prophecy (2/2)

Before me was a tall and imposing podium. Elaborate carvings covered the surface, depictions of various parts of the underworld. I recognized most of it from my father's teachings, but my attention was drawn to the dark silhouettes above.

”You… should not be here.” A loud and commanding voice came from above.

”What shall we do?” Their voice was quieter, but equally as authoritative. It was followed by a long pause. I stood and waited, staring at the Judges thatwould determine my fate. I was slightly worried about their confusion. But, I felt resigned. I had already died and there wasn't much I was able to do that could change my fate.

I suddenly felt something pull at my soul, and I suddenly was catapulted violently through a large white gate. I twisted up and down, left and right, as a wispy white string dragged me to my destination. With a screeching halt, I landed hard on the ground, rocks and dirt scattering around me. Before me were three ancient women, their eyes gray and hair thin. In their wrinkled and withered hands was a white string. They stared at one frayed end as it disintegrated into dust.

”Our tapestry is ruined,” cried the rightmost one.

”It is the work of those cursed ones,” replied the middle one.

The last stared directly at me. From behind her back, she pulled a long shear, the sharp edges pristine and gleaming. She pointed it at me, her eyes glazed over.

”Where the blood of leporum flows,

Trusted allies turn to bitter foes.

On quaky belief, tainted truths unfolds,

Trust and a twisted past corrodes.

Set on a path to make this right,

A choice to consider with all your might;

To destroy the sacred trusted gift,

Or to see the awakening of Hell's rift.”