He settled next to me, shifting to get more comfortable on the rocky cliff's edge. His breath fogged the air like old memories as he framed his words slowly, as if he were telling me them in confidence. "I never intended for any of this, you know. I never lusted after this war. I never asked to be the hero of this story. Fate just happened, you know? But I guess you should know that better than anybody. You of all people know how destinies grab you by the throat and tell you lovely lies."
I don't speak, I hold my silence for a bit longer, hands woven into the thick fur of Everest's ruff, eyes staring out over my mountain range. I kept listening. This hero always had something to say, and he never rambled over nothing, unlike most people who came here, yammering on about things of little importance.
After a moment's pause to collect his thoughts, he continued. "I know I'm supposed to be some legendary hero, bearing the weight of a mess of a prophecy on his shoulders, heralded by omens, etc, etc." He waved his hands as if to dismiss how big his life is, what a miracle he will grow into. "Point is, I didn't get to choose my life, and I'm okay with that. This way, I can at least give others like me the freedom to choose that I never had. But you..... you're even more tied down than I am."
My fingers curled into Everest's fur tighter, but I stayed silent so he'll continue. So that he'll finish the story. I knew every word that fell out of his mouth, but I was still human enough that I wanted to hear him say them, nonetheless.
"You have to speak your prophecies even when you know there'll be terrible consequences. You know how this all ends, but you can't tell anyone but your dog." Everest wagged her tail, being the intelligent girl she was. "That's gotta take a toll. You aren't made out of stone."
My voice cracked out, hoarse from weeks of silence, but with the weight of all my memories to keep it steady enough to convey my meaning. "I got used to the dreams, eventually. I got used to the guilt. It's not a happy life, by any means, but at least I do my part to change the world. I'm okay."
I studied his face sadly, bookmarking the mirth in his expression, the hope that straightens his spine. He'll break. I've seen it. He'll turn to the boy that smiled at and comforted an oracle to the man who laughs and dares Death to take him, hoping his prophecy is fulfilled so he may rest. He'll lead armies. He'll scream to the uncaring sky over the losses of his men. I sighed, and my fast-moving face must have given something away. It had an annoying habit of doing that. But, of course, I knew it would. His face grew sad and infinitely weary for one so young. "I won't make it, will I?"
The best I could give him is silence, and he understands that. It's the best I could give any of them. Past, present, or future heroes. No wonder I was such an unpopular oracle. But it didn't matter. I was a conduit, nothing more, for these prophecies. The people needed them. They needed the heroes.
A world without heroes was a place where this boy, and others like him, would lay down and die without a hope.
It's my job to make sure there's a hero.
Always.
