The Prophecy is Rising


Will Stanton staggered around, drunk to the bottom of his boots. His strength seemed to have been sucked away. Soon he was in a nice, quaint little village. There were only twelve houses.
As he slurred out a Christmas carol, seemingly thousands of children came out of ten of the houses. A goat-legged... thing trotted out, holding a young girl in a coma in his hands. "Begone, mortal." He pronounced.
"Fool." Will boomed. "I am an Old One-"
He was cut off by the young girl, seemingly in a trance saying something.

"The Youngest's son
Will be the One
To lift the spell
By sounding the bell

"He will face friends
But be united in the end
He will inspire a bard
Though it will be hard

"One of hope, one of a lover
One of faith and another
Made of courage true
In the face of all things blue

"One of patience tried
Though a friend has died
One of charity's test
Which won't be best

"And of kindness' life
The son will raise above strife
And he shall bring about
The Stories Chronicles."

The girl blinked once, blinked twice. The goatlegged man looked at him.

"You said you were an Old One? Obviously your son is not the one this prophecy metions. Begone, mortal."

"But wait-"

The houses faded away into Mist. The Mist of Avalon.


A/N: Here we are again, another quick teaser for the Stories Chronicles.

Yes, this is canon, and yes, the prophecy will be taking full blow during the Stories Chronicles.