Moonlit Beauty

A prophecy

Chapter 15

Daemon led Taro to his office and motioned for him to take a seat. Taro nodded and walked over to the wooden chair in front of Daemon’s desk and sat down. Daemon followed suit and sat in his own chair. He stared at Taro who was deep in thought. After a few minutes, Daemon threw his hands in the air. “Ok, what is the matter?” He asked in impatience.

Taro smiled wryly. And that was yet another thing about Daemon that hadn’t changed. His patience was as short as ever. Moving on to more pressing matters though, he leaned forward onto the desk. “Daemon…I believe the prophecy has begun.”

Taro watched Daemon’s face pale and his red eyes widen. “No, it can’t have, it’s too soon!” Daemon tried to deny. Taro just shook his head solemnly. “I’m afraid it’s true. I have witnessed it with my own eyes. They have awoken and they are gathering their forces."

Daemon shook his head in disbelief before standing up and walking over to a locked box on one of his shelves. The box was coated in a thick layer of dust, showing that it hadn’t been touched in years. Daemon hesitantly picked the box up and walked back to the desk. He set it down gently and with trembling hands, grasped the simple chain at his neck. He slowly pulled it over his head and a tiny bronze key was dangling at the end.

Taro watched his friend quietly. He watched as Daemon slotted the key into the lock and twisted it to the right. A small click came from the lock before it snapped open. Daemon’s brows furrowed in concentration as he opened the lid of the box with shaky hands and withdrew an aging piece of parchment from within.

The paper crackled in his grip and Daemon smoothed it out on the desk. Both men bent their heads to read what it said. In fading ink, the prophecy lay upon the yellowing paper.

When an ancient evil rises again,

An old war will be fought once more.

A hero can be found,

In the daughter of the Moon.

With the eyes of purple gems

And hair as that of a raven’s.

She shall lead into battle,

With the twins of the extinct.

They will fight against the darkness,

And they will pay a heavy price.

Sacrifices must be made,

Blood will be spilt and,

Loved ones will die.

Whoever the victors may be,

The future of wolf kind rests on their shoulders.

So the light and the dark will battle for the last time,

And the outcome cannot be foretold,

But know this,

The world as you know it,

Will forever change,

Be it for the better…or for the worse.

Taro finished reading and looked at Daemon who had an expression of defeat. “It can’t have begun Taro! That would mean that-”

Taro cut him off with a growl. “Listen Daemon! I know you don’t want this as much as I don’t but the spirits have contacted us and they told us of what was coming. Do not sit there believing that all hope is lost because if you do then we have already lost the upcoming war.” Taro gazed at his friend sternly.

Daemon closed his eyes before opening them again with a look of steely determination. “You are right my friend. We must prepare for this war and we must do it now. Let us pray that Zhalia manages to complete the mission and return quickly for the ancient evils have awoken and are gathering their forces of darkness. We shall speak about what happened to you later but for now, we have more pressing matters to attend to.”

Taro nodded at his friend and smiled. His friend was every inch the alpha he had dreamed of being.

Daemon took his phone out of his trouser pocket and dialled a number before pressing the phone to his ear. Taro could faintly hear the rings before someone picked it up. A familiar voice reached his ears and Taro’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“Iris?”

----

Dante groaned as the pain consumed his body again. The rogues were obviously not holding back. Faustus chuckled darkly as he pulled the silver dagger out of Dante’s stomach.

“This certainly brings back memories doesn’t it?” Faustus mused as he watched the blood drip off the blade. Dante glared at him weakly as he hung limply from the chains that held him to the wall.

“I just can’t seem to recall those memories unfortunately. I’m sure there was another wolf that was in the same position as you, I wonder who it was…” Faustus trailed off.

A rogue stepped forward from behind Faustus and tapped him on the shoulder before whispering into his ear.

Faustus smiled and gleefully clapped his hands together. “Oh yes! Leon Walker, how could I forget?” He mocked.

Dante’s eyes widened. Leon? No, it couldn’t be…could it?

Faustus stepped closer to Dante and nodded. “Yes Dante, I am talking about your twin brother, Leon Walker.”

Dante sucked in a breath. His brother was here and had gone through this pain for God knows how long. “Where is he?” He demanded angrily. Leon couldn’t be dead, he just couldn’t.

Memories of his childhood where he and Leon played together, ate together, hunted together and listened to their mother sing as they fell asleep, invaded his mind. No, his twin brother was not dead. He would have known, he would have felt it the second his twin took his last breath.

Faustus clicked his fingers and two rogues sprang to a door that Dante hadn’t noticed before. It was in the back of the room, covered by a thick veil of ferns, just like the door to the entrance of the room. The rogues disappeared inside and after a few minutes of tense silence, they emerged, dragging the unconscious body of a very familiar and very bloodied wolf.

“…Leon.”