The Legend of Ajira
Chapter 11: The Truth
Ajira sat down dumbly on the carpeted floor of the Ashkhan's yurt. Maroulis paced nervously, being careful not to tread on his ornate rugs, as he spoke.
"So you want to know everything…" he began.
"Yes—please," whispered Ajira softly.
The Ashkhan took a deep breath and began again. "As I am fairly sure you are aware, you were 'kidnapped', shall you say, for a specific reason. Everything we do here in Zainab Camp has a reason, and let me assure you; we did not burn your home and kidnap your family out of pure spite."
Ajira scowled, baring her teeth.
"Yes, I know it is hard to believe." The Ashkhan spoke in a calm, but condescending tone. "But…" he sighed. "I suppose it is finally time to tell you about your destiny."
"My destiny?" said Ajira softly, not daring to believe what she was hearing.
"A long ago, a prophet came to our tribe. He lived with us for over 50 years, and then one day, he vanished. Only one thing was left in his tent when we searched it." The Ashkhan reached deep into a pocket of his robe. He drew out a small box about the size of his hand. Revealing a key on a chain around his neck, he unlocked the box and pulled out an old scrap of parchment. It was all crumpled and Maroulis smoothed it out over a table. Ajira could see some sort of squiggly writing all over the paper, now that she really looked at it. It appeared to be in some sort of code.
"This, Ajira, is a prophecy. There are many floating around in this world, and one only has to find them." He noticed Ajira staring at the strange markings on the paper and added, "All true prophecies come in this form."
"When we found this scrap of paper inside the prophet's tent, we knew he had left us this message for a reason. We got our wisest wise women and men to work for days on end trying to decipher it. Finally, one made a breakthrough."
"Who was it?"
"Ahhh, that, my girl, you are about to find out. As we struggled for days and nights over this puzzle-" he indicated the prophecy with a flick of his hand, "someone wandered upon our camp. Someone we did not expect."
"This mysterious visitor was a Khajiit, like yourself. (Ajira's eyes widened, for Khajiits were one of the rarer species on the land) His name was Kark."
"What…did you say?" Ajira whispered.
"Our visitor was a Khajiit named Kark." He noticed Ajira's look of shock. "Oh, so you are thinking of the Kark that is at our camp presently. It may come as a surprise, but Kark is over 100 years old."
How could this be? She had fallen in love with an 100 year old! Khajiits didn't even live that long! The oldest one she knew was only 65.
"Kark is…special, shall we say. For one, he is an immortal, and looks forever young. For another, he is an angel."
All this was too much for Ajira. She screamed loudly, so much that Maroulis had to Silence her before going on.
"Yes, Kark is an angel. He may not look it, as he has chosen the form of a Khajiit, but yes, he is an angel. He was brought from the heavens for the specific purpose of helping you on your journey. He is also the one who deciphered the prophecy."
"Let me read you what it said. It concerns you, so listen closely."
At the 1st day of Frostfall a new dawn arises
And she in cat form will brush with destiny
Long lived angel, come down from the heavens
Help this poor girl and her fate.
She be the one
As the darkness arises
Free all the slaves and whats more
A servant girl herself such surprises
Shall change the land forevermore.
Take her to the one with fur color amber
Care for and give her some food
Soon she will know that a dark one approaches
And she is the one who must do good.
Powerful parents a warrior and mage
And a comfy hut on the shores
Of the Ashlands she will be born
And destiny comes into play once more.
Look to the stars, all you blathering fools!
Do as the cats have long done
And only then may you find the right one.
Once you have her make sure and make haste
That she stays around
For no time is to waste.
Train her well and the angel's help
Will help this cat to find herself
When the time is right, you and she will know
Then, only then can she be set off on a journey
She with the star that mar her forehead
Will be the one, she will be the one.
Make haste for the darkness of the land is yet to come.
What do you wait for, fools? Run!