Hey people! Here it is, my new series! Okay, my goal is to become the next Cassandra Claire (never happen in a million years, but hey, wish upon a star, right?). This story took two and a half hours, cooped up in Scarlett Stephanie's bedroom, just to get rid of the plot holes, not to mention the story line itself. Props to Scarlett for coming up with the character Cassandra (BTW, not connected to Cassandra Claire. Just coincidence. Anyone who knows Greek mythology should get it) and for writing the prophecy, even though you don't get to read it yet. Trust me, it rocks! She has a knack for rhyming poetry that I just don't possess. Read her stuff, if she ever posts anything *growls at Scarlett* As always, REVIEW OR DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just kidding folks! But, reviews would be nice.......^_~
The Child's Aim
Must Miss: Prologue
Let this be known, all genuine oracles die many a time before they leave this world for good. That is how people receive knowledge, through death. It has once been said that the only path to enlightenment is reserved for the deceased, and it is as true today as it was when it was spoken. There is nothing special about gaining universal knowledge after death; the impressive, magical part is returning to this world, to share the information with all those near and far. Cassandra, a poor orphan witch with no clue to her identity and no money in her purse, was the all-knowing oracle, the prophet of truth. She never spoke a false word in her life, and had been possessed of heavenly knowledge since birth. Looked upon by the villagers in ancient Greece as a goddess, she made the unfortunate mistake of angering the Gods on Mount Olympus, of awakening their jealousy. As punishment, Cassandra was cursed to have her prophecies ignored, to never be believed again….
Cassandra dimmed the lights in her bed chamber, snuffing out every last candle until she sat in total darkness. She picked up a piece of parchment, stiff and dull yellow. Her face was pale, her mouth set in a grim line. All in all, she gave the air of someone resolved to their fate, however bleak that fate may be.
"I'll show them....I'll show them
all! Once they see...once they know....the Gods were wrong...I WILL be
believed, so help me!" she said into the cool night air, her voice rising from
a whisper to an enraged shout as her eyes gazed heavenward, towards the
ceiling. "I will be feared, I will be loved. Cassandra, the all-knowing oracle.
The prophetess who saved the universe from the burning rains of hell. They will
be singing my praises, dancing in the streets of Athens! I am Cassandra! I am
more powerful than the Gods themselves! For that is why they fear me, that is
why they have cursed my name," she continued, talking to no one in particular,
seeing as she was alone. She was mumbling now, ringing her hands together in
her lap. Her eyes rolled back into her skull as her head lolled grotesquely on
her limp neck.
She now reached out once again for
the piece of parchment, placing it in front of her on a small table. She
herself was sitting on the end of her bed, hunched over with her head lolling
about like that of a rag doll. She slowly extended her arm to grasp a quill,
dipped it into a shallow ink bottle, almost empty, and began to write. Her hand
danced and flew across the page, seemingly of its own accord; its owner was
perfectly stiff, save for the arm, with her eyes closed and her head thrown
back, sending waves of long, auburn hair down her shoulders. Cassandra's entire
body was rigid, and cold to the touch. If anyone had bothered to feel her
wrist, they would not have found a pulse. No breath entered her lungs, no air
exited her mouth. She was, for all intents and purposes, dead. Except for the
arm, which continued to write at a frantic pace. The hand paused, wrote one last
line upon the parchment, and then spasmed. When the hand lay still, a sound
came from the woman belonging to it. The sound of death rattle.
With a shudder, Cassandra's spirit
entered back into her body. Her head snapped forward, her eyes alert and eager
to see what she had written. She gazed down at the piece of yellow parchment
before her, reading her prophecy. She then snatched up the paper frantically,
knocking over the ink bottle. Black ink smeared the floor, spattering in all
directions.
"Steps must be taken....They'll
never believe me, no matter what....I must do SOMETHING!" Cassandra cried out
in frustration. Suddenly, she sprinted out of her bed chamber, knocking over
the table as she bolted for the hall. She ran downstairs to her study, and grabbed
a heavy volume, blood red with golden markings, from the highest shelf. She
flipped frantically through the pages, until she came to what she was looking
for. She then took the parchment upon which the prophecy was written and tore
it into five pieces. Three pieces were very large and contained many lines of
script, while the other two contained but one line each. She took the pieces
into her kitchen, where she proceeded to set up her huge cast iron cauldron
over a roaring fire.
After adding a great many things,
many of which disgusting, she set the cauldron to boil and waited. When the
concoction was spewing violet smoke into the air in thick clouds, she stood,
holding the five pieces of parchment in front of her face. She read them off
one by one, before throwing them all into the cauldron. The potion gave an evil
hiss, and sent golden sparks into the air as the flames in the grate lept
higher and higher. As she watched the spell take shape, Cassandra muttered
under her breath...
"Divinitas compleo.
Societatem coire.
COMMITTO!" She shouted the last word at the top of her lungs, and
then watched as five objects soared out of the great black cauldron and landed
at her feet. The first was a stone tablet, roughly the same size and shape of a
headstone, with the first part of the prophecy carved into it. Next came a
minute golden key, inscribed with one line of verse. Following that, a small
book, bound in leather, with but the very first page filled in. It bore the
second verse of Cassandra's prophecy. Fourth came a medallion, shining golden
in the dim moonlight coming in through the kitchen window, bearing the third
portion of the ill-fated prophecy. Last came a silver ring, beautifully made
with an amethyst set inside a design of winding ivy leaves. Engraved into the
inside band was the final line of Cassandra's prediction.
Taking these objects carefully into
her arms, the prophet opened her front door and stepped cautiously into the
cool night air. She scratched a five-pointed star into the dirt, standing in
the center. Then, she sang out "Divinitas compleo!" once more before opening
her arms, letting go of the five objects. Surprisingly, they did not fall at
her feet, but soared into the air towards the heavens. Each hovered a moment
above a point of the star, seperate but connected by the cosmic shape, before
vanishing into the darkness. Cassandra smiled to herself; her work was done.
She went to bed happy and contented, knowing that she would be the savior of
the universe.
She dreamed of the objects, of where
their flight had taken them. In her mind's eye, she saw the stone tablet
resting in a dark, stone cave deep underground. There were snakes carved into
the walls, and an enormous statue of a cruel-faced man sitting on a throne
presided over the empty chamber. The key she saw on a chain round a young boy's
neck, jangling happily as he ran. The book rested in the hands of a wizened old
man, with hair and beard as silver as the moon and merry blue eys. The medal
hung above a crib in a humble little house, where a baby boy with a small tuft
of black hair slept peacefully. The ring encircled the finger of a teenage
girl, beautiful in her own way but with scars that run deeper than flesh.
Cassandra knew these dreams were
visions of the future, of that she had no doubt. After all, she was an oracle.....
DISCLAIMER:
I own none of the characters portrayed in this story....yada yada yada. I will
though. Four, count'em, four original characters! You'll get your introduction
to them in chapter 1.
PLEASE
REVIEW!!!!! ^_~