Child of Spellcasters

Prologue

The Blue Oracle, clad in blue as her name, looked up from where she sat as a figure moved through the trees. She was having visions of today's encounter, but because she had been tired for the past few days she never really bothered to see who it was. From where she sat, it looked like a child, a young boy of about seven or eight.

"Wind drifts freely, but the trees don't lie. Why do you hide behind those who yet sing of you? Come to the wind, where the sun shines. I wish to see your face."

There was a brief pause, before the boy stepped out from behind the smooth trunk of the tree he had been hiding behind. He was young, a beautiful child, with fine features, brown hair and lovely blue eyes. He was thin and a little on the gaunt side, and would almost be sickly, but his eyes shone vividly as if they contain all the life in this world.

The Blue Oracle smiled. "What is your name, child of blue eyes?"

"Ss..." The boy paused. "I can't remember."

"Come here." The Blue Oracle answered. "Perhaps I can tell. The palm of a hand reveals many things."

The boy looked down at his hand, before stepping up hesitantly in front of her. The Blue Oracle took the child's hand, careful not to startle him, and began to read.

He came from the mortal realm. She saw with surprise. He was a servant of a wielder of the Shadow. He wields the Shadow himself. A Priest, and a High One at that. The Dragon Tamer, the Orphan, the Wild One—Cunning and Intelligent, Lonely and Afraid. She considered the boy briefly. He died. He was killed by the Supreme Wielder, for treachery— he is not a bad person though...I wonder why. But he should have stepped into the Realm of the Dead. Why is he here?

The Blue Oracle lifted her right arm and pulled the child gently to her lap. The boy did not pull back, but curled up to her willingly. The Blue Oracle hissed as a vision crossed her.

Seto Kaiba. The only one of them, whose spirit is intact. Wielder of the Millennium Rod. Doomed to be an Orphan in the Mortal Realm. The only one who is free from the Fate of the Pharaoh, and yet even he is not completely free. Loss has made him bitter, cruelty made him indifferent. Yet once he comes here, he'll get what he deserves...

The symbols of the spellcasters rolled across like a stream. She breathed in wonder as understanding dawned on her. She cradled the child's head, who was now looking at her in confusion.

"A young god," She said quietly, "With the craft of all spellcasters. You have quite a destiny, little one."

The child blinked, still confused. The Blue Oracle let him go. The blue-eyed child stepped back, not understanding.

"Your former name is not important." The oracle continued. "You deserve a new name, one that does not betray you and yet stays true to your form. You were a dragon tamer, and your eyes are blue. I think Cobadra will do, what do you think?"

The boy blinked in thought. "I don't care, Cobadra is Cobadra."

The Blue Oracle smiled. "You cannot stay here, this place is too confined. But I will find someone, someplace, where you will get the training you need. You have quite a destiny before you, little one."

Cobadra blinked, feeling a bit nervous now, but the oracle had returned to her hut. Uncertain, the boy decided to follow her in.

"Come, you must be hungry." The Blue Oracle told him. She set down several dishes and a bowl of soup in front of him. "I will be near, should you need anything." She left him.

Upstairs the oracle looked in the mirror. She was not looking at herself. She was looking at something of the past. A prophecy, foretold by the late Silver Oracle, a prophecy of the period when all magical races turn against each other and the realm falls to devastating depths. It would not be caused simply by one person, indeed, few wars really are, but there will be one person who can stop it all, when properly trained. He will die, saving this world, just as he had died in the mortal realm, and will cross over as Seto Kaiba. But fortunately, he would not be there for long, and when he returns, he will return to find a welcoming world of peace, a grateful world, a world where his soul can finally rest.

Not long by their standards anyway.

There will be trouble ahead, for both Cobadra and Seto. Both will find loneliness. Alienation. Loss. In the end though...

In the end all would be worthwhile, unless some Druid interferes. But Druids rarely do, and Cobadra himself is a Druid, with a Druid's hand and an Oracle's eye, powers unimaginable even to the supernatural.

"He'll be fine." She said to herself, trying to smile. Somehow it didn't sound very convincing, not because she believed Cobadra would not live up to his best, or the other spellcasters would not live up to theirs. Somehow she felt, perhaps, as Cobadra's soul will grow old, the wounds will never quite heal enough for him to find true happiness. Perhaps it would be too late?

But the mirror showed no more. The prophecy shows the path, not where it leads. There is a lot more to life than just saving the world, the Forces, if there are, could not care less if Oracles and Necromancers still exist. They certainly did not shed a tear when the Deities faded from the world. They would not weep for the loss of one child, as powerful as he promises to be.

The Blue Oracle turned from the mirror. What happens next is beyond her hands. For now, the child must be fed. He has had a long journey from the deserts of the Mortal Realm to the forests of Fey. He has been wounded in life by many sorrows. It is her job to find him somewhere to live, to train. The Oracle ran it over her head. Who should do it first? Someone kind. Someone compassionate, yet experienced in spells. Someone who would love the child, someone who will devote their full time and energy to taking care of him.

Cobadra had finished eating some time ago and was waiting for her with nervous eyes. It would not do to let everyone know who he is, he is too weak, too frightened. Perhaps...

"Come, Cobadra." She told the boy. "I want you to meet someone."