Chapter 27: The True Meaning of Merlin's Prophecy

Chapter 27

The Meaning of Merlin's Prophecy

Talk about a horrible detention! Sage's hands were pruned, tingly, and squishy. He rubbed them on his robes trying to get them back to normal. His face was all scrunched up with a look of disgust.

First, scrubbing out all the cauldrons without magic.

Then, scrubbing off the splatters on the walls.

Finally, disembowling wet, slimy repiles.

The combination had left his hands blistered and pruned. They also emanated a most putrid smell. So much for him asserting Black's innocence. He should have never said a word! Snape had been making him pay quite a premium price for opening his mouth.

He spent any time that he was not in class in his uncle's office doing work or in his classroom doing odd jobs or helping with first and second year classes. It was the closest thing to grounding him that Severus could manage. No free time was an understatement. Torture was also an understatement.

The professor had not stopped giving him an earful about Black or his Gryffindor friends either. His disapproval was quite apparent. Sage wanted to please him, he wanted things to return to normal, but that did not seem to be happening any time soon.

His mind had been circling around one thing: the leather case and the prophecies. He hadn't really looked at them much since he had finally read the prophecies, but he had done some research on ancient egyptian wizards and witches. He had been particularly interested in the man called Nag. The first member of the triad was descended from him so it was logical to start there. All he had been able to find out was that the line of that man, bore the name Nag, obviously enough. In the anglo world it had become the english word for Nag: Snake. After that, he could not figure out what had happened. The line simply disappeared. Somewhere in his mind, he remembered coming across something like this before, but he couldn't remember where.

He had to work on the assumption that the time of the Dark Lord was the time he was in, even though for all he knew it could have been in the past or could be in the future. Voldemort was dark enough. The One could be Dumbledore, after all he was the only wizard the Dark Lord feared. That would make sense, but it did not seem to be right. He was closer to figuring out something about the first member, the third member was the most enigmatic, or that's what he thought.

Nag. Snake, he thought. How am I supposed to know who the descendent is if I can find no trace of the line?

He absentmindedly said the password to the portrait and stepped inside. His shoes clicked against he stone entryway and then padded against the carpet. He did not hear a word or notice anything as he proceeded directly to his room.

He said Lumos without realizing it and was greeted by light. He pulled the case away from his trunk and opened it up. Its musty smell met his nose once again. He reached into the dusty interior and pulled out the scroll that talked about Ra and Nag. Maybe he could find some clue in there. He began to read, clutching the rough, old parchment in his moist fingers.

Beside him always was the one that the Nag were named after, the man who was called by no other name but Nag, Egyptian for "the snake". He too was as frightening to the people as Ra. His face ghostly white, inhuman looking, his hair as black as his empty eyes, his ornamentation a large black cobra's head that spanned from his shoulders and ended with the fangs of the snake just over his forehead. Nag himself was said to have fangs. He had grown up with the pharaoh and had learned of his powers. Nag always knew that one day he would be beside Ra and would exploit those powers to their gain. Nag was the only man that Ra would speak to, but it was said that Ra's voice was such a torment itself that it sounded like an inhuman rasp that could pierce the eardrums.

Nag had gained supporters for Ra early in their youth, Ra named them The Order of the Nag, or The Nag as was common. The Nag were all dark wizards who bore the mark of the all seeing eye on their left bicep. They held meetings amongst fire and asps in the catacombs, where Nag would tell them the word of Ra. The Nag would bring their leader and connection to the God Ra a sacrifice, a woman. Nobody spoke of how the sacrifice was performed or of how Nag killed her, but the Order never dared to defy him or their God and Pharaoh Amun Ra. They would then go forth and bring down Ra's wrath on all those unworthy. They conquered all of Egypt and enslaved millions of people. Enslaved those who were considered beneath them, people who were not capable of any wizardry.

He reread the words, searching. The second time he read it, another sentence seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. It was as if the scroll knew he needed help, as if the scroll itself was speaking to him.

The Nag walked in silence, he was everywhere. His movements were so fluid, none could see them. His stare could petrify a man's heart right in his chest. The followers swore that Nag could hear their thoughts and read their characters. His face knew little emotion but conveyed an active and calculating mind. He was feared by all, especially by those who knew his commanding and intimidating presence. Nag towered over any man in height, and his large, black eyes were forever staring down at the followers, those Ra had named after him.

Sage's heart began pounding fast and hard. That description, he was sure, had not been there before. It sounded so familiar, its description. His body knew it before his mind did, but his mind was not far behind. Fluid movements, walked in silence, people thought he could hear their thoughts, his face showed little emotion, calculating.

Sage's heartbeat steadily got faster as the realization dawned on him. The description fit his uncle. It fit his uncle perfectly, even the physical description. His Uncle Severus? His mind was reeling. Severus. Merlin! Severus Snape. Snape. Snake. Gods! How did I miss it all this time! But, but it, it can't be. My uncle isn't like that, that thing, that man, Nag. He's, he's not evil, he isn't dark. Ohh. Ohh Merlin. "He will cleanse his line of evil by rejecting the Dark Lord."

Woah, wait a minute. It is now. It is Voldemort. But, but who are the other two members.

His heart jumped several beats. He lost his breath. His thoughts pressed down on his chest and constricted upon him. Words from the prophecies suddenly flooded back to him. They played in his head like a recording, and he was an unwilling and captive listener. Nausea rose in him and bile boiled up his esophagus.

He grabbed the scroll with the prophecies on them. As he began to skim to the proper part, more writing materialized before his eyes. He read, he consumed. His eyes travelling with rapid speed.

His heart was racing so fast, his vision began to swim, his hearing began to dim, he felt as if he was about to faint. Anger rose up inside of him like nothing he had ever known. Fear, fear fell onto him like a blanket. It was all too much. It was all lies. Everything he had know. The truth, it had been written. Now he knew. It was all out of his control. Sage had never felt such emotion before in his life. His field of vision narrowed and the outskirts started to become black. He knew he was going to pass out. His stomach was turning on him, he couldn't even sit straight.

His hand fell heavily and limply into his lap. Black dots began to consume the remaining length of his vision. Pain broke into his head like an infestation. The last thing he felt was the leather of his chair meeting with the side of his head as he fell over.