Percy the Overlander

Chapter 6

   Percy stared at the relic. The sword was kept in a glass case above a mantle in a large room inside the palace. The wood at the bottom of the case had the words expertly carved into it.

   Let us not forget that which we have been so greatly blessed to posses.

   "They were the last words of my grandfather." Luxa said behind him, "He died about a year ago, the palace garden was built in his honor, but they also made this case for the sword." she added solemnly.

   Mareth continued the story, "He had a stroke two years prior, and could not speak. He wrote on parchment that the two halves be brought to him on his deathbed. Until then, it had been kept in the museum, with the various objects that fall from the Overland. He touched the hilt with one hand, and with the other, wrote those very words."

   Percy felt dumb for asking the question, "Well... what's it for?"

   Stange looks.

   "I mean, what's special about it?"

    Mareth answered, " It was first crafted personally for our founder."

    "The Sandwich Guy?"

   "Yes...However, he commanded in one of his prophecies to give his blade to the Warrior. This," Mareth held up one of the pieces of the broken blade, "was the sword of Gregor, also. The reason it is in two, is because three years ago, when Gregor refused the position of Warrior, he broke the blade in half."

   Solid metal? And only twelve? Sheesh, no wonder they made him their Warrior. Percy thought.

    Luxa asked, "But, why do the Cutters want it?"

    "To humiliate us." Ripred declared, "To make Regalia look weak, which is an...interesting plan, especially for Cutters."

    "Ripred is correct." Mareth  agreed, "Capture, ransom, actually writing a message... It is not like the Cutters at all."

    Percy asked, "What are they normally like?"

    "Antisocial, territorial, violent, emotionless." Ripred spat off,

     "We should give it to them. " Luxa said,

     "WHAT?"  gasped the others.

     "We have no choice."

     "Your Majesty," Mareth cleared his throat," I believe that it is best that we not  act rashly. We must-

     "We have not the time for anything else!"

       "I understand your frustrations, but even if we wanted to just leave and hunt for him, we still have to consult the High Council and they would never approve unless we had a sort of Prophecy!"

      "A Prophecy...."mumbled Ripred,

      Even though he was  a rat, Percy could somehow tell that he was thinking deeply. Mareth was apparently knew what he was thinking.

      "Ripred... NO."

     "Yes..." An unsettling grin began to grow on Ripred's muzzle

      "No, Ripred we cannot just create our own Prophecy, they are not just common poems and no one would believe us anyway. The answer is to plead with the High Council, hopefully with both the queen and the Council of Time on our side, it will be enough."

      It was not enough.

      Percy was waiting outside the High Council Chambers when The others came out. Ripred was fuming.

     " They wouldn't be like that if it wasn't for that lil' pipsqueak, you know, the one that used to be Crier at the Fount."

      "Farnum?" Mareth asked,

    "Yes, him. He's essentially got the whole place eating out  of his hand."

     " I  still believe Ripred's idea about a Prophecy can work." Luxa commented,

      " No," Mareth refused," I will not lie to the High Council, and that is final."

       "Then I suppose we need a real Prophecy, then." Ripred suggested,

      "Come now, Ripred, where do we get... Oh, dear."

     "What is it?" Percy asked Mareth, but Luxa answered unsmiling,

      "Nerissa."

    They later explained that Nerissa was Luxa's older cousin. Her Royal cousin, meaning if Luxa died suddenly, Nerissa would be on the throne. In fact, it had happened once when Luxa went missing in the jungle or something, but Percy wasn't listening to that part (again). However, Nerissa was also rather sickly, and occasionally had... disturbing dreams. Some in Regalia would go as far to say she inherited her ancestor's ability to see the future, but not everyone was sure about that.

   Mareth figured it was best if he, Luxa, and Percy went into her room to talk to her alone. They found her half asleep on the bed, she greeted then all with a weak smile.

   "And who is this?" Nerissa asked, noticing Percy,

    "Oh, um, Hi, I'm Percy."

    "That is an interesting name.... and a very interesting garment..." she gazed at his blue windbreaker,

    "What? This? Oh, It was just something I had on... when I fell."

    "Nerissa?" Luxa spoke softly and explained their predicament to her.

    "We are not asking you to lie," Mareth said, "We only-"

    He stopped when Nerissa inhaled sharply. She whispered hoarsely...

      " I see now the Soldiers two,

       One of Red, and one of Blue.

       Stolen by Darkness the Soldier of Red,

      One left to seek out his brother, Undead.

      On top of the pinnacle pleads he,

      Unite with the torches, the Mighty Three.

      After the leave of the four now come,

      One like a Titan, a torch become.

    If no one returned, shall he shed tears?

      Or all five return, to calm human fears?

     Red is the torch the Titan holds high,

      Time decides, the Warrior is nigh." 

    There was a long pause.... Nerissa then said, in a trembling voice,

      "Good is Great... Bad is Dead."