Professor Layton and the Angel's Prophecy

Prologue

He coughed once, twice, before whipping out his trusty brush and flicking on his headlamp to examine the stone tablet more closely.

"Remarkable," the man murmured, not quite wanting to fully observe it yet. He was caught up in its intricate beauty. It was truly a great historic piece with a message that would quite possibly shake the foundations of all they knew. At least, the man liked to tell himself this whenever he discovered something. It usually turned out to be the same thing, or other. An ancient toothbrush, some measly gold coins. He wanted something bigger. Something newsworthy. Something told him this could be it.

"What does it say?" came a small – well, it was a bit deeper now - voice beside him. His son was only seventeen, and already a budding archaeologist like his father.

"I don't know. It doesn't look like any language I know."

"Let me see."

He handed over the golden-bronze tablet, almost as large as a tray and filled with dozens of small tiles all marked with strange little symbols. The man felt as if he was handing over his most prized possession.

"Careful there, son. We don't want to drop it now, do we?"

He grimaced, remembering the last expedition where his son's eagerness got the better of him and he dropped a priceless vase. But he could never stay mad at the young man.

"Hmm, I bet the Professor would know what it says," the lad commented, thinking back to the recent find the illustrious Professor Layton had been a part of back in London. The seventeen-year-old didn't know that world. At least, not anymore. America was another world to him.

"Quite likely, but we can't always have the Professor now, can we?" He ruffled his son's mop of brown hair and stretched, letting out a loud yawn. "Come now, let's take this with us and call it a day."

"Alright," the boy sighed, following his father up the passage, heading through a narrow passing where they had to squeeze up against the walls that glistened like emerald tears. The man didn't quite recognise these minerals, and his son furrowed bis brow, how eyes expressing the same sentiment.

"I don't remember these being here before...?"

His father nodded, swallowing.

"I-it would seem that we just didn't see them in the right light, or something to that matter."

The man's head flared in pain, and he winced. Clutching his head, he turned, wondering if his son felt the same. Unlike him, the lad seemed to be distracted, dizzy almost.

It was obvious the teen was disappointed. Pushing through to the winding path that tore a line through chasms below, the man kept his balance, despite the path being wide enough for four, and he ran his hands along stalactites as he passed them to reassure himself. A shape darted past his eyes, a mass of swirling clouds. It whispered something that he seemed to have heard, and yet not heard. He couldn't quite remember what the voice said. Looking about, the figure had vanished, and now he wasn't sure if he was just seeing things.

He found his son was looking at something behind him, and he swivelled his head around quickly so he met his father's gaze.

"Did..." the man stammered, licking his lips. "Did you see that?"

His son started, then stopped.

"I... I'm not sure what I saw."

"Let's get out of here. Immediately!"

The two hurried on, sure they were just tired and delusional, but even so, they kept their wits about them, and their eyes peeled. Only one thing snapped the father from his reverie, and that was the look of disappointment that had marred his son's face before.

The man pursed his lips, and then an idea sprang into his mind, clearing away the pain.

"I know. We have Doctor Steinberg in the city. How about we take this to him before dinner, tell your mother we'll bring fish and chips home, and see if he can't decipher it?"

The lad's face lit up a little. More than that, it actually looked like it was lighting up.

Confused, the father looked down to the tablet resting lazily in his son's hand. Some of the symbols were emitting a strange light from beneath the cracks – a pulsing blue that began to illuminate the cave, casting an otherworldly glow across the barren walls. Water dripping from stalactites fell with a neon tinge to them, and his son's face was alight with wonder now.

"What...?"

The symbols began to spin and the light continued to intensify. A great gust of wind swept throughout the cave and their clothes flapped about wildly. The son's hat flew against a distant wall and he dropped the tablet to reach it, charging after it without a care for his safety.

The man only just managed to catch the falling tablet and let out a quick sigh of relief. Ignoring the strange magic the tablet seemed to be emanating, he gave chase to his son, only pulling him back by the scruff of his neck before the teen could fall into the abyss below them.

Placing the whirling tablet down, the father grabbed his son by the shoulders and stared him deeply in the eyes.

"You could have died! Please, don't be so reckless! I thought you had changed. That you had listened to the Professor. This isn't the act of a true gentleman!"

The boy, usually so full of confidence, found it achingly absent. He thought he had been improving. That he could make the Professor proud. Was he not on his path to becoming a true gentleman? How could his father doubt him so?

"I... I..."

"You know I could never lose you. It would..."

Tears streamed through the father's eyes and soon the teen was fighting back frustrated tears of his own. His father still worried about him, even after seeing how he could handle himself on his last adventure with the Professor. He had jumped into a moving plane then! He was reckless, certainly, however, he had grown much wiser since then, though he still held the same iron temperament.

The son flung into his father's arms and they held each other tightly amidst the heavy gusts and mysterious lights. Soon, the teen's sniffing stopped and he opened his eyes, glancing down at the tablet which was a little dimmer now. The winds didn't clutch at him too tightly anymore. Something odd was happening.

"Look..." he breathed, gesturing to the tablet. His father broke free from his son and glanced back to the accursed tablet which almost cost him the life of his son.

"It doesn't matter. Let's just-"

"No. Look!"

Wary of the urgency in his son's voice, he glanced back down to the tablet and saw that the glowing symbols were now changing, morphing into letters. As the symbols became clear, the son and father read the tablet with frenzied eyes and hollow voices.

"Doom to the thief, who steals lives, meddler of time. Doom to the curse against nature, the impossible man in the top hat. Doom to the gentleman and his apprentice. Doom to he, for he shall die first."

There was a long silence as both father and son absorbed these words. Still the winds whipped around them, and still the light cast an intruding glow across their tear-stricken faces. And then, all at once, the winds were gone, claimed by the outer world. The tablet was as dull as before, letters returned to strange symbols. And the pair were left in almost total darkness, almost lost to it.

Finally, the son let out a small breath.

"Do... Do you think that was... about me and... the Professor...?"

"I... Luke, no. No... It can't be."

Luke looked to his father, eyes glistening, and uttered the words no father should hear from their son.

"Am I... Am I going to... die?"