The prophecy was clearer than an invisible jar full of ether.
This ancient directive firmly laid a trail of terror that was the sole supplier of ancestral trauma from his bloodline.
Nine thousand and ninety Redbird’s Feathers line the way to the Gate where The One goes with Truth to end the Fate.
Rieath, the son of the now dead nine thousand and ninetieth Redbird Queen, rolled his closed eyes and groaned as the weight of being The One pressed him further down into his mattress.
Those who tried to enter the Gate before never had a chance to learn from their mistake as the Dry Wail sucked the water from their bodies leaving behind piles of dust, bones, and fearful rhymes to scare children.
Knowing that he’s The One who will travel through the Gate made for a terror-filled childhood with limited true friends.
Now his childhood was gone overnight and his unfamiliar body writhed as the sun began to call him from his bed.
Resisting was futile as the force surrounding the Gate shrunk his world daily until now he couldn’t be more than a field’s distance from the mystery of his fate.
Today was a day Rieath wouldn’t remember, but would be remembered for.