A/N Okay... once again, sorry it took so long. Took a while for me to write. Being lazy. lol. School starts in a week for me. So... things might get even slower. Just a head's up. Thanks to... demented-dreamer, Fantasylvr (maybe four), Randomisation (I'm glad he didn't freak out to), TPFreak, Mage Light, ... (Hehe I made that word up completely, just kinda making random sounds, so that's how I came up with it. And it doesn't have a real meaning cause I made it up. lol.), Fyr's shadow (the old guy is the Prophet from before), Zerrion of the Wind (Thank you thank you!), cloverluck11 (understood and I won't hold it against you if you don't review. lol.) Okay! On to the story!

Chapter Twenty:

Tori stood off the side of the bed, watching as the woman labored to birth the baby. She gave a final agonized scream before falling back on the bed painting, her face dripping sweat. A baby's squall came next to her ears, almost as loud as the mother's scream had been.

"Is it…?" she whispered, to exhausted to say more. The doctor lifted the babe into the nurse's arms and with two fingers pried open the baby's eyes. Tori came to stand beside the doctor and looked at the eyes. They were gray and clouded over. The eyes of someone who would go blind soon. She felt saddened at the thought that a child so new to life would go blind so soon.

"Yes. He has the eyes of a prophet. Call in the Master. We must give the baby the right!" The nurse nodded and handed off the baby before striding out of the room. Tori felt a moment's confusion at the words—weren't they concerned about the baby being almost blind? — but soon was distracted.

The woman in the bed sat up using her elbows as leverage, pushing the hair from her eyes with shaking hands. "Can I see my son? Can I?" she lifted out her arms for her son, but the doctor turned away and began to leave the room.

Tori watched in horror as the woman struggled to get out of the bed, yelling after the doctor, "Give me my son! He's mine!" But she was to weak, to tired from that long labor, to leave the bed and eventually she sank back down and began to weep.

Tori left the room to hurry after the doctor, tears in her own eyes. She knew, without a doubt, that that woman would never see her son again and felt a twist in her heart. It wasn't right for them to take away her son like that. They didn't even allow her to see the baby! But again she was distracted from her thoughts by what she saw.

In the next room, the doctor had placed the child on a table and wrapped it in a blanket, leaving only its chest and head exposed. He was cleaning the thin, heaving chest with greenish water, and it was making the baby cry. Tori wanted to go to the child, to soothe him and push away the mean doctor. She felt a fierce protectiveness for the child and the kind of love one gave unselfishly to little children. As she was moving forwards to take the child away from the doctor and soothe it into a peaceful sleep, she was stopped in her tracks by something very unexpected.

The door burst forth and a man strode in, a man that Tori had seen before. Not his face, for at the time it had been shrouded in shadows, but she recognized his body, the way he held himself. Yes… she knew this man. This was the Master. The Master that Zahib belonged to.

As she said the words in her mind, she felt Lee dragging at her soul, trying to break free, but at the same time, she felt a presence around her hand. Derek's. He was still holding her hand and his very presence was a shield against Lee.

She smiled and returned her eyes to the Master. He wasn't as handsome as she had thought he would be, for surely a Master would be handsome, or in some way spectacular. But in truth, he was really just very ordinary.

He had brown eyes, the kind that one would expect to be gentle. But looking into them she saw that they weren't gentle at all. They were filled with a wild sort of danger and anger. An anger that couldn't be controlled easily and often times resulted in outbursts that hurt people.

She wanted to cringe away from him but again she felt Derek's hand on her own and was given the strength to watch.

Strutting across the room with a swagger to be envied the Master placed his hands on the baby's chest. As if by magic, the baby's squalls stopped and he lay still, looking up at the man.

Tori nearly screamed when she saw a blinding green flash. She threw up her free arm to block her eyes as the light sizzled over her skin, burning it with the heat and intensity. The pain was sharp and intense, but very brief, lasted merely a second. But the memory of the pain was sharp enough to be remembered for a very long time. A long moment later, after the pain had faded she slowly lowered her hand to stare at the baby.

His chest now had a symbol burned into the skin. It appeared to Tori to be a scribble, but she knew it must be something important for she felt Lee give another vicious and futile pull.

"The Prophet is his name. And he will forever remain in my service," the Master hissed and swept from the room. With his absence came the baby's cries once more. But he would get no soothing. He was property to the Master, a Prophet. And Prophets didn't get comfort. They got training and a room all to themselves where they could have visions in peace.

The scene before Tori's eyes began to fog until she could see nothing but the mists before her. Her breath slowed until it seemed she wasn't breathing at all, time stood utterly silent and still. Then it was gone, the mists had receded and she was standing in a room once more.

This room was dusty and very dim, the only light available to her that of a lantern placed on a table that was crowded with bits of paper, forgotten quills and several bottles of ink.

The walls were lined with ancient books, some so old they looked as if a single touch against their spine and they would crumble into dust and vanish in the wind. It was a very dreary, lonesome room and Tori didn't like it at all. She felt as if she was being closed in, as if the walls were pressing against her and she wished that the room were destroyed, that it had never come into existence.

She liked it even less because a boy of little more then twelve was sitting in a chair at a large, dusty desk. From the looks of him, he hadn't seen the sun in years. He was pale and his cheeks hollow. He looked sickly and his gray eyes were still clouded over. He couldn't see properly, she was sure of it.

But as she watched him, his eyes suddenly widened and for seconds, only seconds, his eyes were perfectly clear, the gray in them shinning so bright she nearly wept at the magnificence. They were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen, all the more beautiful because she had loved the boy as a baby and she felt the love carry over to this boy.

But even as she watched, the gray clouded once more and the beauty was blocked off, trapped within the eyes by the fog and hidden away.

The boy bent over the book settled before him on the desk and he began to write, his shoulders hunched, the hand curved painfully tight around the quill. In the silence of the room, she heard only the scratching of the quill against the page.

A curious frown marred her brow and she walked over to the boy, leaning over his shoulder to read the words that he had written. Looking at the open book she saw that it was composed of things written by his hand in a small, very neat print that was easy for her to read, the looping letters pleasing to her eyes. She wondered faintly as she began to read if he wrote all the books in the room. Surely he couldn't have for there were so many, but before she could complete the thought, her attention was captivated by what the little boy had written.

The little boys play outside, the sun shinning on their heads, merriment in their eyes. But beware the evil that lurks close by for could be their death. Should one falter in the attempt to save, then all the boys will perish. But, should the hero be swift in his efforts, then the boys shall live to play again.

Tori frowned, puzzled by what he had written. It didn't sound quite like a story because the wording wasn't really sentences and it certainly wasn't a piece of history. It was… well… it seemed to be a foreshadowing of the future. She frowned more when she heard the boy sigh and looked down at his bowed head. He had brown hair, very much like her own. She wanted to soothe her hand over his head and fight away the sorrow that nestled deep in his heart. A boy so innocent, so sweet, didn't deserve to be this sad. It wasn't right and it certainly wasn't fair.

"Wish it were that I could play outside, safe or not," the boy whispered, so quiet she was certain that she had imagined it. She opened her mouth to ask him if he had indeed said that, but before she could speak she heard the sound of a door opening and turned to see a middle-aged woman with a mean face stepping into the room.

The woman tried to smile, tried to look like she cared, but the dead look in her eyes made it unconvincing. "What was that Prophet?" she asked as she came striding across the room, her voice hard and demanding. Before Tori had a chance to move out of the way, the woman walked right into Tori.

And continued out behind her as if Tori didn't really exist.

Tori's hand began to quiver and she gasped in shock at the waves of sensations that washed over her. It chilled down her spine in deep shivers as she got an instant look inside the woman that had just passed through her.

What she saw in that brief second was frightening. A wasteland of pestilence and disease with people committing unspoken sins on the ground, shrouded in the taint of green. And all had the mean woman's face. Tori gasped and shoved away the heinous visions.

It gave her a horrified and disgusted feeling to have been privy to that vision, as if her insides had been frozen by the woman's touch. She shivered and turned to see if the woman had seen inside Tori also, and if she found it as disgusting as Tori had. But the woman acted as if she didn't even realize that Tori existed.

Tori frowned but soon it was forgotten because the boy was speaking. "I said, I wished I could be let outside. It's been so long since I've been able to be outside. Would it truly hurt for me to be outside? Even if it was only for a moment?"

The woman's face clouded over with a very dark scowl before she was smiling again and smoothing a hand over the boy's hair. He seemed to buy into the fake gesture because he smiled up at her with a so very pleasing look on his face and sighed in rapture.

"You know that isn't allowed Prophet," her voice was once more cold. She obviously didn't like to interact with the child, least of all when he was being what she thought of as pesky. Tori wanted to smack her. He was only a child! A little boy! What was the harm of letting him outside? "You know that one slip of the mouth about a prophecy and the entire world could fall into destruction. You wouldn't want that to happen would you? You wouldn't want to be the cause of the end of the world, would you?" She demanded.

The boy's eyes welled with hasty tears and he looked down, shaking his head sadly. "No…" he whispered and hunched his shoulders once more. "I wouldn't."

"Good. We'll have no more talk about going outside. Now, let me see what you have prophesied today, Prophet," she grabbed the book from the table and quickly read what he had wrote. She wasn't pleased.

"What is the meaning of this!" she demanded her voice fowl, her face red. She turned hastily to the boy and slammed the book upside his head, knocking him from the seat and onto the ground. Tori rushed forward to see to the boy's safety, but something held her away from them, away from the scene. "This isn't about the witch!" The woman screamed and hit the boy with the gigantic book once more.

Fog began to swirl about the room again as Tori tried to reach out to the boy. He was crying and whimpering, trying to get away from the woman, sobbing out his apologies. "I don't care if you're sorry! What am I to say to the Master? What am I to tell him when you have prophesied nothing that can be of help?"

Their voices were growing faint as the fog swept into the room faster and faster and then she saw nothing, heard nothing and time stood still once more. Utterly still and silent. It was as if she existed only within her body, her shell and nowhere else. The world was nothing, nonexistent. Time was nothing, nonexistent. She was one and alone, with only the presence of Derek around her hand.

And then the fog had lifted and she was standing in that same room, only it seemed to have grown dimmer, dustier, more oppressive. More terrible then it had been that unknowable time before. The Prophet sat at the desk, nearly seventeen now. He was even more hunched and more pale then before, if it were possible.

Tori still felt the overwhelming urge to walk to him and fold him into her arms and rock away his pain. He was such a sad boy, so sad. She wanted to weep because she knew that there was nothing she could do to make him better, nothing to save him. She realized now that this was the past, his past, and no matter what she did, she couldn't change it. All she could do was observe and wish to the gods that he wasn't this sad now, that he wasn't this lonely. That there was a way for him to be happy.

But as she watched, he began to moan and rock, his body shivering so hard that even his robes trembled. She nearly rushed to him to help him stay upright, but she realized that she wouldn't be able to touch him.

With a harsh shout, the Prophet threw back his head and his eyes snapped open, wide, the gray magnificence blazing forth as he was held in that position, back bowed, mouth open as he saw things, so many things, that Tori would never be able to see.

What seemed and eternity later his eyes softly closed and he fell gently back against the chair. His breathing was harsh, but the trembling had stopped. He looked down at his hands that still held a quill in the painful grip. The Prophet stared down at his book of prophecies, a book that he had written himself, spent uncounted years doing nothing but writing, for a master he had been given no choice as to whether he wanted to serve. He had been given a life of imprisonment simply because he could see things, things that would one day give an advantage to the Master that he hated but did not fear, that he served but held no love for. This was the crucial moment, the time where finally he had a change to break away.

With a happy wheeze that was most likely the Prophet's laugh, he got up and went to the bookshelf, grabbing one from the bottom row. He opened it to a blank page, pen poised over the top, ink ready to be spilt onto the page in words that would never be given to the Master he didn't wish to serve.

Tori walked to the Prophet's side and watched as he wrote very neatly on the top:

The Prophecies of Princess Torianna

Tori gasped and stepped away as the Prophet began a sketch under the title. She had seen enough to know that he had drawn a sketch that looked like her, exactly like her. With her eyes and her face and her expression. She rushed forward to look once more at the image but before she could see the fog settled around her once more and she was again locked in the timeless place.

"Princess?" Tori gasped as she stepped away from the Prophet, her hand still firmly clutched in Derek's. "What do you mean? Was that book of prophecies about me?"

The old bent Prophet smiled and leaned ever more heavily on his brother. The look on his face was one of the cat that swallowed the canary. He looked pleased and proud and she frowned at him.

"I see," the Prophet gasped in his hoarse voice as he smiled at Tori, "that Lee isn't the only one capable of receiving visions. I had thought that the visions explained in my prophecies had been brought forth by the witch, but I realize now that you simply inherited more power then I had assumed. Did you enjoy what you saw of me, my dear?"

Tori shook her head as she remembered what she had seen. "How could I? You were forced into this life Prophet, forced to be something that no one deserves to be. How could the Master do something like that? I thought he was cruel but I never thought he would go so far as to enslave a baby!"

"It is sad, yes. But you brought light to my life, Princess," he whispered and smiled at her. Tori blushed and looked down at her toes. Why was he calling her a princess? That didn't make sense to her. "You were my first love, my first secret, and I will be forever in your debt for the freedom you have granted me. You, my dear Princess, are the best vision a Prophet could ever receive."

Tori blushed again, but she had questions. "Why are you calling me a princess Prophet, for you are mistaken? If you had seen prophecies of me, surely you know that I am no such thing. A maid raised me remember? I was born into servitude and work. I am nothing but a companion to be bought for children. I insist you call me by name, Prophet. I am Torianna."

"You are the who is mistaken, your highness. You were not born into servitude, but into a life of luxury and bliss. And it was Nathan who stole you away and took you here to Tortall. For you see, the first branch of your prophecy was dangerous and in order for you to survive, you had to be taken away and disguised. Perhaps, I should start at the beginning, so you may understand it all."

Tori nodded her consent, but as the Prophet opened his mouth to speak Ciem flew around the corner and skidded to a halt inches before Tori.

"At last! I have caught up to you. Come. Mother and Father will be so happy to see you," Ciem grabbed her arm and began to drag her away. Derek calmly said Ciem's name.

"What Derek? Don't you realize who this is? This is my sister!" He shouted and broke into a crazy grin.

"What?" Torianna screeched, her face paling, mouth dropping open in awe.

"I think it best that I explain now. Prince Ciem, please be quiet and allow me to fully explain what has happened so that you both may understand and accept what has happened fully. Agreed?"

They both nodded and the Prophet opened his mouth to unfold the story, or prophecy, of a lifetime.

A/N There it was! Enjoy! Review me!

Nubia