Lady of the Wood

Prologue

The sun was just rising over the horizon, and King Henry Bartholomew Bennet William I was sitting next to the deathbed of the last of the elven seers. The wise, frail, elf woman was the last of her kind with her gifts. Her talents warned the rulers of Evalor of potential dangers, as well as brought good news to them, and without her, ruling the country would be much more difficult without the ability to foretell events of importance.

    "Lady Beatrice, how are you feeling today?" The king asked her, gently moving his hand to rest atop hers.

    "As well as a dying woman can, Your Majesty." She smirked. She had an odd sense of cryptic and sarcastic humor that not many found to be amusing, but the king quite enjoyed her snide remarks.

    He laughed aloud. "So you're doing well then?"

    "We'll say that, if it eases your worry." She stopped suddenly, going into a violent coughing fit. Once she had stopped coughing, she took a drink of the water next to her bed, and continued, saying, "I do have something I would like to discuss with you today. I have been hesitant to share this particular prophecy with you, but seeing as I'm lying on my deathbed, the time has come to bid you one final warning."

    "What are you talking about, my lady?" The king leaned forward, curious about the meaning of her words.

    "What I'm talking about, Your Majesty, is that there is something that I have foreseen that even I was too scared to tell you until now. Help me sit up, and I will tell you of things to come."

    He immediately reached to help the woman adjust her position. "Very well, Lady Beatrice. What have you to say?" He waved the servants out of the room, as Beatrice never liked anyone to hear her prophecies except those who needed to hear them.

    She drew in a breath, closed her eyes, and began chanting an old elvish incantation as she always did before reciting a prophecy. Finishing the incantation, she opened her eyes, which were now a startling shade of blue clearer than a mountain lake. She began speaking, but her voice sounded as if a hundred more voices were joining her.

"She will be like a lamb: the daughter of Pren, the Lady of the Wood, the Queen Warrior. Hidden from Evalor until her eighteenth birthday. Out of the shadows will she come. Her foes trembled before her in battle. She shall set Evalor upon its pedestal once again. Be warned and guard her well, for her foes are Evalor's. And they will cease not to end her rule before its rise.

He will be like a lion: the offspring of Evalor's great kings, the Lord of the Wood, the Warrior High King. He shall find her in her darkest hour before light of dawn. Surely, the Lion of Evalor was he. His rule was mighty, though little more than a child was he. He shall look to her for wisdom and strength. He sought to guard the throne, for upon its golden seat she was seated. He ought keep her near him, lest her rule cease before it begin.

He will be like a wolf: the bane of all things good, the Bane of the Crown, the King of Thieves. A foe unlike any Evalor has seen. He will rise to challenge their rule. His armies a terrible race of horrors unimagined. He will rule over the domain of shadow. The Queen  Warrior will slay the malevolent one." The elf blinked and her eyes returned to their usual warm brown. The change always startled those who heard her speak of the future.

"Who will these warriors be, Lady Beatrice?" The king asked.

"You will know who the High King Warrior is in time, but all I can tell you of the Queen Warrior, is that she was born not five hours ago, miles from here, in the wee hours of the morning before dawn." The woman slumped in her seat. "I am tired, and I would like to close my eyes for a spell. Would you help an old, dying woman, Henry, old friend?"

"Of course! Thank you for sharing these words of wisdom with me this morning." Henry eased her back onto the bed lying down.

She began coughing again. "My time is drawing near." She gazed off into the distance, at nothing in particular. "Promise you will make these things I have shared with you common knowledge. It is time that Evalor knows of its soon coming salvation." Her voice was barely louder than a whisper now.

"I swear it on my honor, Lady Beatrice." King Henry bent over her head, pressing a gente kiss there, as the elves did with their closest friends.

"Good," She smiled softly. "Look, there, out the window! Can you see it?" She coughed, before continuing, her voice hoarse and barely audible. "A flying chariot, coming towards us!" Her eyes began to close, her voice getting softer and softer. "It's beautiful!" Her eyes closed, and her chest slowly stilled.

King Henry wiped a tear from his cheek, "Farewell, my friend. Godspeed to paradise, for you have served your nation well." He laid her hands beside her body on the bed. He stood, casting one last look at the woman who had become like a sister to him, always the one he turned to in times of confusion. "She's passed," was all he said to the servants standing outside the door. The women immediately began crying, covering their mouths, trying to muffle their sobs.

"She will be taken care of, Your Majesty. I swear it to you on my honor, and all I have," said one of the male servants.

All Henry could offer in response was a nod. As he walked out of the house, he gestured to his escort that he was ready to leave. They mounted their horses, and started their long ride back to the palace.

Hours later, King Henry felt a sudden sense of knowing rushed over him. The Lord of the Wood! He is born!