tales shrouded in mystery
The book was too far up. That was the conclusion Prompto reached as he stood on the tips of his toes and tried, ineffectively, to grab the green tome resting on the top shelf of his closet. His small fingers barely came up to the second one, no matter how much he stretched. He didn't even know how the book had ended up there.
Upset, he fell back on the balls of his feet and went to look for something he could step on. He trekked the space he now knew as well as he knew the lines and calluses on the palms of his hands. Familiar and safe, those were words had had begun to associate with his new little home. He had memorized every corner, every crevice, and every part of the house that currently belonged to him. Had spent hours laying on his back just watching the ceiling, watching the furniture, watching the tiny specks of dust shining bright with sunlight, thinking of how not too long ago having a roof over his head was a blessing.
Thirty seconds later he returned, chair in his possession, and lowered it in front of the open doors of the closet. He climbed on top of it and managed to grab the sneaky thing once and for all. He still had no clue on why it had been there in the first place but let it rest, he'd think about it in another occasion, when he wasn't so anxious to keep reading. Book in his grasp, he walked to the living room. The afternoon sun that trespassed the transparent glass of the windows gave an orange tint to the room.
A chocobo plushy was hunched over on one side of the couch, yellow feathers ruffled and soft. Cor had bought it for Prompto on the impression that it looked just like him.
"Looks like your hair, doesn't it?" he had said, holding the stuffed animal in front of Prompto's face.
"No, it doesn't!" The boy had protested loudly, all the while looking at the fake chocobo like it suffered from a contagious disease. The hairs on the back of his neck had stood in alarm, goose bumps covered the entirety of his arms; his body, unknowingly, had rejected the plushie, ignorant of the reason why.
It had been natural, like his reaction to white coats and injections. He didn't say anything to Cor, though, simply accepted the toy in his sweaty hands and had left it on the couch, forgotten and untouched for the remainder of the visit and the weeks to come. He passed by it and felt a tremor run through his body; he preferred not to think much about why the presence disturbed him so much.
Prompto sat at the table, put down the book on its surface, his still skinny- but not as bad as before- legs swinging in the chair. Asides from the book he had just brought with him, a pile of books from different sizes and colors laid there too. Some of their titles read in big white cursive writing: Lucian History-First Volume, General Geography, Geography and Economics of Lucis; others had both florid titles and covers like Cosmonogy, Centuries of War, The Great Thirteenth and Daemon Encyclopedia.
There were more for sure, but those were the only ones Prompto had skimmed through or read a bit of. At the least, after reading one whose name he could not remember for its complex wording and excessive length, he had learned more about the current King of Lucis and Cor's role in the system, what his function was in all this jumble of ranks and what not. Turned out that he was very important and a whole lot cooler than what the boy had thought initially. Prompto had spent days fawning over the idea that his legal guardian was a celebrity, a fundamental figure in the Crownsguard, after that discovery to the disgruntled man's desmay.
However, despite his new findings, his favorite one to date was the green book right in front of him, titled Eos Mythology: a Recollection of Tales and Legends. This one was not only more digestible to him but less vague and confusing than Cosmonogy, book that had taken him an entire week to understand the first few pages. Eos Mythology, while taking at times a childish shine due to its narrative way of recording the stories, it felt- in a very strange way- more real and magical than most of the other books Cor had given him. Contained various myths about the creation of Eos, the nature of The Astrals, who The Astrals were, the essence of the world, the importance of the crystals. So many interesting concepts poured out in the paper, Prompto couldn't help but be absorbed by the world of light and dark fantasy the book offered him; the fact that it also had tons of very detailed illustrations didn't support his cause much. He loved everything about it.
But so far in the book, there was one chapter in particular that had him captured from the moment he saw the elusive title and the equally elusive content. This section of the book was remarkably different from the rest- devoid of the copious amount of drawings that characterized Eos Mythology except from a couple of clothing designs and a strange golden symbol, devoid of an extensive explanation (origin: unknown, location: unknown…) the text in the chapter smelled of a mystery begging to be uncovered and, most important, the chapter was unique in the sense that it spoke of the existence of a pagan goddess.
A goddess who was not a part of The Great Six, completely alienated from them.
One not recognized or mentioned anywhere else but in that chapter of Eos Mythology, ignored entirely in the rest of the book as well as in every other book that told stories of The Astrals.
As if in a trance, Prompto opened the book on that special chapter; his eyes retraced the words, one by one, to capture them in memory.
"Legends across Eos tell the story of an old tribe known to have been gifted by the Gods with the ability of seeing into the future. This ability manifested itself into one chosen member of the tribe, The Seer, who would serve as a vessel for the visions. They called themselves the Farseers."
Tales of a forgotten culture.
The magic and mystery that surrounded the Farseers.
Prompto was sold the instant he saw the word 'future'.
"The Farseers are believed to be the oldest tribe to have ever walked on Eos. Before Solheim was formed, the first culture in existence was theirs. Different from any actual or past civilization, The Farseers were not devotees of The Astrals; instead they worshipped a pagan Goddess.
Etro of the Afterlife, she was called.
According to their beliefs, Etro was the Goddess of Chaos and Death. This entity in Farseer folklore was the one who provided life to this world and was responsible for taking it as well, to the place wherein she resides: Valhalla, the afterworld where all souls went to rest, hence her given name."
Prompto mouthed the foreign words (Etro. Valhalla) and continued reading.
"Etro had a kind disposition towards humans, she felt mortals were worthy of pity, especially her worshippers, and decided to bless them with an opportunity: the illusion of escaping death. Thus, she bestowed upon the purest member of the tribe with The Eyes Of Etro, the power to see beyond time itself. Thanks to this blessing The Farseers were able to thrive and evade for a while their awaited resting place in Vallhalla, with the exception of The Seer whose sole requirement was to face her demise valiantly. Under no circumstances was The Seer to change the future in order to prevent her own death.
The Goddess Etro also provided the Seer with a companion, another chosen one of the tribe to take care of The Seer's wellbeing and protect them from any dangers. This person was denominated as The Guardian of the Seer and apart from The Seer, was the only being allowed to use The Oracle Drive*, a device where allegedly The Seer deposited their visions into.
The first known Seer was a fifteen year old girl called Nsu-Paddra Yeul*and her Guardian was an older man by the name of Caius (his last name and age are not specified). After them, came many others but they are unique for their names are the only ones that can be found. What it is known, however, is that both The Seer and Guardian had a long life expectancy, given that Nsu-Paddra Yeul got married to Caius when she reached her twenties and lived to see their grandchildren grow at her eighty years of age.
Another element that is important bringing attention to is that The Seer was never born again in the same family. After Yeul died, the next Seer was chosen from a different family. On the other hand, it's uncertain if The Guardian shared the same fate. Some claim that Caius's and Yeul's lineage inherited The Guardian aspect, while others state that it's logical to assume Etro assigned Guardian duty to another bloodline.
(Annotations at the end of the page)
*The Farseers used for last names the name of their founding community, Paddra. To this time, it still remains unclear Paddra's location or whether the site existed at all.
* It is unknown if this device is related in any way to The Oracle mythos, nevertheless the nature of this being true is unlikely since (if they existed indeed) The Farseers rejected our faith."
Prompto finished reading that part. He already knew what came next. He flipped the page and his blue eyed gaze found that strange golden symbol that unsettled him deeply, wholesome and big in the middle of it. His index finger unbeknownst to him traveled to the smooth page and drew imaginary lines on top of the predetermined ones.
The closer he looked at the picture, the more he thought it resembled a yellow tear.
Inside his ribcage, something shrunk painfully.
As he touched it, what was supposed to be the sign of The Eyes of Etro in The Seer's own eyes, he recalled what was said on the previous face of the page. To be capable of avoiding catastrophic situations, yet not be capable of saving your own life. He wondered how The Seer was supposed to manage, if one day the vision that greeted them in the morning was nothing else but the last one they would ever have. If that vision showed them the day of their own death, the hows and the whys.
It scared him, somehow. Deep sadness overwhelmed him, the kind he didn't know where it came from but was nonetheless so profoundly acquainted with it he didn't bother to question the reason why it was there.
At the same time he debated this, the front door opened and a brunette man clothed in black came inside the house. The boy immediately looked up from the book on the table, finger frozen on the page.
"Missed me, kiddo?"
"Cor!"
He jumped from his seat and rushed to the man's side. Cor was carrying two black bags filled to the brim with what seemed to be groceries and when Prompto trotted happily to where he was, he told him to be careful.
"These are what you'll be living off for the next couple of weeks, so you don't want them on the floor" He said jokingly to the animated child.
"Yes, Marshal, sir!" Prompto mimicked the hand gesture the lower ranked officers did when they saw Cor.
The man rolled his eyes at him before heading to the kitchen to drop off the bags. Prompto followed him and helped him store each thing he had bought in its rightful place. When they were done doing that, Cor buried a hand in his hair and messed with his now clean and silky locks.
"How was your day?" he asked kindly, just like he did whenever he came to visit the boy.
Prompto swatted his hand away from his head "Fine, I guess. I woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep but I ate some of that cereal you brought me last week, and I felt better." He recounted the events and then remembered "Oh, and I've been reading." He added quickly.
"That's rare" Cor said sarcastically, walking to the table to check Prompto's reading choice "That is all you have been doing lately, not to say that it's bad but there is a perfect world outside, waiting to be explored"
Prompto could tell he was going to say more but Cor abruptly broke off his train of thought at the sight he found. The green book, Eos Mythology: a Recollection of Tales and Legends, open on page 246. A strange look took over the man's face as he locked on the chapter Prompto had been reading.
Prompto stood behind him and stretched a bit to peek over his shoulder, trying to see what was so weird about it that Cor had to stare so intensely but, confused, he was only met with The Eyes of Etro reproduced on paper.
Cor's face remained blank for a second, then returned to that joyful smile he had given Prompto at the entrance, although it looked very strained. "Really? That chapter, again? What was it..?" Cor turned the page over and read the title out loud "Chapter 20: Etro of the Afterlife and her worshippers,The Farseers"
He raised both eyebrows "Don you ever get bored of reading the same thing all the time?" Despite his tone and the way he spoke about it, his eyes returned as if attracted by a magnetic force to the contents on the page. "I reckon there are better documented legends in this book, and more reliable too"
Prompto felt unexplicably defensive and crossed his arms "Well, I like it enough. I think it's awesome and cool. It's different from the other stories and it's… magical. It feels…" Suddenly, words failed him. His eyes widened and tried to get noise past his unresponsive lips but they wouldn't budge. Unexplainable, was what the book and that chapter in particular made him feel like.
He wasn't able to describe it, at least, not with mere words.
Cor's gaze was unwavering, heavy on him, but he felt something shift in those eyes he had gotten to know well these past two months. Crossing his arms as well, he said "Prompto… do you, perhaps, remember anything?" Now the man was holding the book in his hands and if he didn't know him like he did he would have thought the royal guard was pleading with him.
Pleading him to say what he wanted to hear.
Eos Mythology, wide open, showing the chapter of The Farseers, was being held by Cor Leonis and Prompto didn't know what that one thing he wanted to hear was about. He didn't know where that began or where it ended, just that somewhere in the middle it had something to do with that chapter inside that book.
Prompto shook his head, feeling disappointment in his bones "No, I don't remember. Why?"
The book snapped closed with a resounding 'slap'. It was now closed in Cor's right hand. He shook his head, copied Prompto's previous action "No reason at all"
"I'm going to the bathroom"
Prompto was left blinking in bewilderment as the man disappeared in the bathroom's direction. He wished to ask what was he going to do exactly with the green book in such an unlikely place to read but said nothing. Fiddled with his too long sleeves and said nothing.
By the time Cor came back from his bathroom break, the book was nowhere to be seen and he seemed to be in a better mood. Sat at the table and motioned for Prompto to sit in front of him, which the blond did warily, already foreseeing what was going to happen next and sighed in resignation. Cor chuckled (total opposite of the man who had asked him if he remembered anything), and grabbed a book from the pile. It was General Geography. Prompto's worst subject.
"So, let's begin with some studying, shall we?" Why did he have to make a rhetorical question? To remind Prompto he had no choice in the matter? The boy uttered a depressed 'yes' and rested his cheek on his palm, in preparation of the long, looooooooong hours to come.
Every time he visited him, Cor made sure to supervise and tutor him in his studies, seeing that Prompto had never been to school before or maybe he had but had no recollections of it (no, he had never stepped inside a school, but the man didn't need to know that). He explained him everything, it was impressive to see how knowledgeable the Crownsguard really was. From math, to biology, history, and geography… the list went on and on. Prompto appreciated he had such a smart person taking care of him but at times, it couldn't lessen his boredom when it came to studying, especially if it was a topic the boy did not enjoy in the slightest.
Forgetting the awkward mood, they settled into their usual routine. Prompto retreated into the safe haven of his mind to avoid concentrating on the subject, and considered how incredibly natural this scene transpired.
Two months. Only two months had passed since that eventful day where he had transitioned from nobody to somebody. There had been a couple bumps along the way, of course, but now here he was. In his own house, the same house where he had been examined by Doctor Risa whose face as promised he didn't have to see but still had some monthly check ups with another doctor (who was a lot nicer, even when he asked invasive questions Prompto simply could not answer).
Cor had pulled a few strings so Prompto could keep the house, and to prevent him from being handed over to the adoption system, that even in The Crown City was quite terrible, Cor appointed himself as Prompto's guardian until his real parents showed up (for obvious reasons, at this point, the boy held no faith in this webbed lie but the image of pale blue eyes and long blond hair kept him from saying anything about it). Out of nowhere, Prompto had a roof over his head and a father like figure in his life that worried about him and tended to his needs.
Out of nowhere, he belonged.
Feeling warmer and grateful, he started listening to what Cor was saying. Nevermind that he got lost early in the explanation fast for not paying attention when he was supposed to and received a pinch on his left cheek for his trouble.
What was left of the day expired that way. Studying with Cor, getting sidetracked momentarily, then going back to the lesson. They took a break, watched TV, discussed the books Prompto had read these days (without mentioning that one particular book) and Cor took a chance on another failed attempt at teaching Prompto how to cook and therefore fend for himself. Subsequent to the almost fire they caused, Cor thought it more safe to teach the boy to simply heat in the microwave a cup of noodles.
Eventually, they got back to studying till' it was time for Cor to go. Every single time, he left always at the same hour, almost manically punctual: at 5 o'clock p.m. Leaving homework for Prompto to do before he returned in two/three days, he reminded him where he had put the rest of the cup noodles and patted him on the hand. Prompto didn't swat his hand away and just nodded, smiling a dimpled smile.
The door closing behind that broad back, Prompto thought, was not as frightening as it had been on his first days.
Objective set, he traced his steps back to his room, a quiet hum echoing on his ears, on and on. The neverending lullaby. The chair he had brought that morning was still there, in front of his closet, and once more he climbed on it, peered to the top shelf. A small hand, delicate fingers and thin covered-by-a-bracelet wrist reached for something he could not see too well from the angle he was in. When his hand returned to him, it held in his palm Eos Mythology: a Recollection of Tales and Legends.
Outside, the yellow-orangesque sky was morphing into its darker nature.
The night was showing its teeth.
He was sitting on the couch, strangely enough. The chocobo plushie observed him with dead, unfeeling doll irises as he positioned himself as distanced as he could from the unnerving toy. On his lap rested the composition of pages that had him so fascinated. His nails tapped a rhythm on the back cover of the book, his undivided focus was dedicated solely to the Etro and the oldest tribe to ever walk Eos. Further and further, his heart beat for that thing he had not been well versed enough to express using his tongue and teeth and mouth and jaw and brain.
It went deeper than that. And he desired to search for what that deeper meant.
His chest moved timely with his breathing. Cold wind caressed the skin of his naked arms where he had rolled off his long sleeves and he looked up to be met with an open wide window. He did not remember leaving it open before. Book clasped in his hands, he stood up and closed the window and as he did, wet breeze hit him in the face. It was raining and he had not noticed, deeply concentrated as he was in his reading.
He closed the window, the light drops of rain were hitting the glass now and produced a 'tap, tap, tap' beat. Prompto turned around.
And the book fell from his hands.
His eyes widened like saucers.
His body, from head to toe, froze and felt the blood running through his veins become chill cold.
There was a suspicious figure standing next to the couch, next to where the creepy plushie continued to stare at him. He did not pay any mind to that, however, he couldn't, because his heart was about to dig a hole through his chest.
"Prompto Argentum" spoke the unknown person. Accent heavy and a definitely female.
Prompto's knees shook and he tried to reign in his emotions to think clearer. He blinked a couple times and as he did the mysterious figure began to come into focus.
It was a woman. A dark curtain of hair cascaded gently from the top of her head; it was hard to make out where it ended seeing that she wore a dressed in the same ebony shade as her hair. In fact, she appeared to be covered in darkness if it weren't for the white piece of cloth she had entwined on her arms and the bronze and light purple designs on her dress. Her face, disturbingly uncolored, faced him with both eyes closed, lips a glossy red in a straight line.
Unconsciously, he took a step back.
She began moving closer with her high heeled boots, a gap on them to show her black painted toes.
"Prompto Argentum" she said again, even, too calm to be comforting "The journey thus begins, with the abandoned child who is not alone anymore. With the chosen by the Afterlife. With the child hiding behind countless bracelets. With the sacrifice of a server to secure his fate. With a city long forgotten by the light, where the child is born. With the man who wishes ownership of both the child and the destiny denied to him"
She stopped so close to him, where the book laid opened on Chapter 20.
Prompto was not sure he was breathing.
She leaned down, picked the book with long, nimble phalanges, all the while never taking her closed eyed invading stare from him. "It begins with the wounded prince and the abandoned boy. Thus the journey bound to shake both this world and the realm unseen begins, for their union is meant to rewrite the prophecies and visions foretold since former times"
She then pushed the book to his chest, very softly and Prompto felt himself burn at the touch.
"Defier of fate and denier of the might of The Gods, messenger from Chaos, Prompto Argentum. Your path which lays ahead an easy one is not. Many would perish confronted with the burden you have to bear. Yet you are meant to stand unmovable against adversity if your heart's desire shall prevail over The Gods own will. To be pitied is your destiny. A tragedy unbreakable that cannot be stopped because your desire will not let it."
"Support you I should not, that is not my calling. Sadly as long as the girl's heart beats I am selfishly tied to her and will do as I can to spare her, even if sparing her means shattering the natural order of life. Perhaps, we are not unlike in that tragic sense"
The boy could not understand one single word of what she was saying and almost fainted when she reached out with one hand to circle, using a sharp fingernail, the area around his eye socket. "When the time comes, ask for me and I will aid you. When the time comes, every one of the elements has to aid you"
Without a reason, without hesitation, he nodded, like a puppet on strings.
"Until then"
The unknown woman pronounced in a final tone and pressed a freezing kiss to the boy's forehead, the book pressed against his chest still. In three seconds, his eyes fluttered close and his world faded into black.
In his bed, suffocating with the bedsheets, Prompto Argentum dreamed of a handsome young man, maybe six or seven years older than himself, athletic, blonde like he was and blue eyed like he was, throwing his arm around a black haired boy, whose head went up in surprise and the youngest blonde was mesmerized by the ardent blue of the other teenager's face.