â€‹“What’s the child’s name?” Father Bernard asked.  His voice echoed up into the high arched ceiling of the cathedral.  With a bony hand on her shoulder, he led Persephone to the front of the congregation.  Persephone smiled down at her daughter’s stormy green eyes.  They twinkled faintly in response.  Her gaze switched to the people of the Loragian Kingdom as they watched her carefully.  She could guess what they must be thinking.  No husband was at her side, the Kingdom knew why, but it didn’t change how many judging glares she received.  If only they knew how special this child was to her.

    “Lucia Angela,” she stated softly as she cradled the cooing child closer to her chest.  Father Bernard offered his arms to Persephone.  Hesitantly, Persephone placed Lucia in his arms.  The creases around his eyes folded as he smiled sweetly at the baby girl.

    “The child will now be given her fate,” he announced to the people in the pews.  Father directed his attention to an elderly woman.  She stood hunched, wearing ornate dressing robes of bright hues.  Despite her age, her eyes were clear, always moving, ever-seeing.  Father Bernard handed Lucia to the Prophet.  The baby squirmed a little in the woman’s arms, but she only cradled her closer.  With a bow of his head, Father returned to Persephone’s side. Together, along with the entire congregation, they watched the Prophet.  The smell of incense burned around the cathedral, slowly pulling the air from the room as they waited for the Prophet to speak.

    Suddenly, her head snapped up, the once clear eyes had turned butty and distant.  She saw nothing and everything all at once.  She opened her mouth and began to recite the verse.

“An unsettled feud keeps the lands divided

In the midst of war, the Kingdom’s fate will be decided

Together, two outsiders must settle the world’s unrest

By the hand of the Lord this pairing is blessed

Doubtful Daughter of the Light and Sightless Son of Earth

One must make the ultimate sacrifice for the Kingdoms rebirth”

    Her final words echoed, until there was nothing but the sound of Lucia cooing softly.  Persephone’s dark eyes flashed, as she took a step forward to retrieve her child.  Father Bernard placed a hand on her shoulder and shook his head; there was a sad twinkle in his eyes.  Instead, he stepped forward and took the child from the Prophet.  “I bless Lucia Angela Mendel, child to Persephone Mendel and Raphael Heart, in the name of God, may He protect you both.” He dipped his fingers in the holy water at the edge of the altar and ran his fingers across Lucia’s forehead.  The little baby began to whimper and squirm in his arms, as if she sensed the distress in the room.  Perhaps she did?

    Persephone took Lucia back in her arms; there was a bitter taste in her mouth as she looked down at the only light in her life.  A light that could just as easily be extinguished by her fate.

    Persephone gazed over the edge of the cathedral balcony.  Below two warriors sparred heatedly in the boiling sun that hung high in the clear sky.  A young man pursued his partner with skillful ease.  It was obvious he had been well trained, but Persephone ignored the young man’s confident strikes and instead turned her attention to the opponent.  A young woman, twenty years of age, dodged each blow easily from the young man’s sword.  Through the back of her helmet she could see a thick red braid falling down her back.  Her moves were swift and graceful, like a bird darting through the sky.  “She’s grown into quite the young woman,” the Prophet stated hoarsely.  She was small, more gnarled than she had been twenty years ago, but her eyes still shined.  “She’s a strong warrior I’ve been told.  Is she ready?”

    “She must be, she’s been training for twelve years,” Persephone responded thoughtfully as she watched her daughter.  Lucia moved quickly, but Persephone knew she would never raise her weapon against her partner.  Lucia would only defend, and that knowledge scared her.

    “You seem unsettled. The Prophecy?” the Prophet cut in curiously.  Persephone sighed, her eyes darted with Lucia.  Her daughter knew about the Prophecy, she was trying to change it.  Persephone knew well that wasn’t a possibility, fate was fate, and sometimes fate was unfair.  Lucia appeared to be at the advantage, but by this point Persephone had turned away, she had seen enough.

    “She can’t die, not to save the Kingdom in the midst of war,” Persephone almost pleaded to the old woman.  “I can’t lose her like I lost Raphael.  She’s all I have left.”  The war between the Humans and Trolls had been raging for almost 15 years now.  Yet another prophecy caused unrest in the Kingdom.  Persephone didn’t understand. Why did the world depend on foreseen fate?  It couldn’t always be true.

    “Prophecies cannot be changed, but it never said it had to be her.  There is another that will join her on this journey.  One of them must sacrifice, not both,”  She explained gently. The Prophet placed a knobby hand on Persephone’s shoulder, but Persephone only shook it off.  “Don’t be bitter and live life in remorse.  This is Lucia’s journey, not yours, she’s strong--”

    “--But is she strong enough? I can’t even tell anymore,” Persephone cut in bitterly.  “How can she survive if she refuses to fight like a warrior?  She rambles on about diplomacy and common ground.  That is not a warrior for the Loragian Kingdom.  How?” The older woman glanced down at her gnarled hands, watching them clasp and unclasp.  Even she couldn’t see the answer to Persephone’s question.

    “We must trust the Prophecy,” she whispered after a pregnant silence.

    “Her ceremony is tomorrow.  We’ve run out of trust, the Prophecy is here, and I’m going to lose a daughter,” She turned to the stairwell that led to the training grounds.  “Now if you’ll excuse me.” Persephone bowed curtly to her and swiped some strands of hair our of her sharp eyes.  She nodded back, and with that, it was done.  Persephone turned away, her cerulean robes billowed around her heels as she shuffled down the steps.

⟴⟴⟴⟴

    “Well it’s about time Lucia,” Christian stated as he stretched across the rough wooden bench on the edge of the training grounds.  Lucia glanced up curiously as she pulled off her helmet.  Her bright bangs fell across her eyes, obscuring her vision.

    “I beg your pardon?” She responded with a quirked eyebrow..  She swiped the bangs out of her face as she gave Christian a hard glare.  “About time for what?” She proceeded, which only made Christian chuckle.

    “I just meant it was about time you beat me in a fight,” He responded.  He ran a hand through his chestnut hair and offered Lucia a cheeky grin.  “Perhaps you won’t die saving this Kingdom.”  Lucia scoffed as she placed her helmet on a wooden post and began tugging off her thick leather gloves.  The sun was scalding.

    “If you haven’t noticed Christian, I don’t want to save the Kingdom, I don’t want to fight,” She stated defiantly as she slipped behind him and began untying the loops of his breastplate.  “There are more peaceful ways of settling the differences between the races.  Why should we risk our lives in battle when we can discuss and negotiate terms?” Lucia continued.  Christian snorted as he tugged at his breastplate and let it fall with a soft thud at his feet.  “What’s so funny?”

    “You’re in denial Lucia, then again if I had a Prophecy like  yours I’d be a basket case too.  Try some of that ‘peaceful negotiation’ when a horde of trolls are coming at you with battle axes.  That little philosophy of yours is better off six feet underground, like you’ll be if you try it,”  Christian explained with another short chuckle.  Lucia pursed her lips as she kicked his breastplate to the side and took as seat beside him. “Why are you training to be a soldier if you don’t plan on fighting?”

    “My mother insisted that I had to be ready to fight, but I’m sure there are other ways to settle our disagreements, I can prove it.  They just need to give me a chance.” She glanced up at the cloudless sky thoughtfully. “Killing doesn’t solve the worlds problems,” Lucia insisted.  Christian held back a smile and Lucia groaned.  “I should never expect a man to understand my logic.”

    “My apologies for being but a simple man, I have no chance at understanding the wise words of a woman,” He nearly sang as he bowed to Lucia.  “So instead I’ll laugh at it.  Peace isn’t possible; the world is full of sinners after all,” He replied with a chortle.  “You should be happy we kill each other, after all, sinners only breed more sinners.  In the end there are fewer of us.”

    Lucia shook her head as she began to unlatch her own armor.  “Your views of humankind astound me Christian,” She muttered as she pulled her breastplate over her head and placed it next to her.  “May the Lord save your soul.  Humans have the capability of being kind and compassionate.”

    “Oh I’m sure humans have that capability, it’s the orcs, trolls, and those blasted high elves I have trouble trusting,” Christian countered with a knowing grin.  Lucia opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, her mother reached the bottom of the steps.  There was always an elegance to her mother that Lucia never seemed to be able to master.  Persephone approached her daughter and smiled softly.  Despite the smile, there was a disappointed sadness in her eyes.  Almost like Lucia had fallen short of what she had hoped she would become.

    “Mother,” Lucia breathed as she offered a small bow to her.  Persephone offered a curt nod of the head and briefly glanced at Christian.  He sat up and bowed as well.

    “Lady Mendel,” He acknowledged.  

    “You two sparred well today, I was quite impressed.” Persephone gazed pointedly at Lucia who avoided her eyes.  “Your ceremonies are tomorrow.  You will embark on new journeys, and hopefully you will be successful.” Lucia looked up, her mother’s voice appeared slightly forced, uneven.  Her mother was always composed.  Christian stepped forward and bowed once more.

    “Thank you, I hope to honor the Loragian Kingdom like you once did,” he complimented. “But if you’ll excuse me, I must return to the barracks to pack.” He winked at Lucia before he turned away and sauntered out of the arena. Lucia winced as she turned to face her mother. There was that pained look in her eye.

    “Your father would be proud of you Lucia; you followed in his footsteps,” Persephone stated softly. “If he were here, he would be proud of what you’ve become.” Lucia didn’t respond and turned back to continue to place equipment on the rack. An uncomfortable silence settled between mother and daughter, like it normally did. Lucia never understood why her mother was so contradictory with her words and actions, one minute she looked disappointed in Lucia, the next she was telling her how proud her father would be.

    “Thank you mother, but as we both know, I’m far from safe,” Lucia finally muttered. She turned back to look at her mother once more. “I must return to my barracks though and prepare for tomorrow evening.” Persephone furrowed her brow, but stepped back and bowed her head.

    “Of course,” She replied, almost sadly, but she quickly straightened. “Good evening.” She turned away and climbed back up towards the Cathedral balcony. Once she was out of sight, Lucia collapsed on the bench. The rough surface dug into the palms of her hands as she tightened her grip. Her eyes lifted to the cloudless sky. It had started to turn a soft hue of pink in the setting sun.

    “Father,” She whispered under her breath. “Please guide me with the Lord’s light to the Kingdom’s salvation.”

    Lucia brushed her long reddish hair away from her face as she ascended the steps to the Palace. She had never been there before; she’d only ever seen it from afar, like most. It was bigger than she imagined it being, with tiers of vibrant colors. They were high; she almost fell over trying to look at them. “You’re a curious Paladin, which might get you killed,” Christian stated as he came up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

    “Oh quiet, you’re just as curious as I am,” She hissed as she elbowed him in the ribs. Christian wore an embroidered tunic. The silver thread wove together creating the outline of a cross.  She glanced back up at the large, high arching doorway. “We’re so close to our futures Christian. I’ll finally get to prove that I can make a difference without having to fight. I can change my fate.”

    “Good luck with that Lucia, the King will most likely assign you to a quest similar to your mother’s. If there’s any chance you have your mother’s combatant skill, the Kingdom is going to take advantage of it,” Christian stated as he leaned against the smooth marble banister. “You’ll have no choice but to fight.”

    “That’s ridiculous. I’m sure the King will decide based on our training. We’ve been judged by our teachers, I’m sure they report back to the King,” Lucia argued as she gathered the skirts of her ceremonial dress. Normally, she avoided dresses, but it was a special occasion. “He’ll know I studied and speak most of the languages of different races. That will surely get me to be a peacekeeper.”

    “Lucia, I hate to point this out, but there is no such thing as peacekeepers in the midst of a war,” Christian stated.  Lucia waved him off and hurried up the steps.

    “You’ll see Christian. They’ll see my full potential. Just wait,” Lucia responded with a small smile.

⟴⟴⟴⟴

    “Lucia Angela Mendel, a Paladin, the daughter of Persephone if I’m not mistaken,” King Mercutio began. He smoothed his dark pepper colored beard thoughtfully. “We truly are blessed to have 2 Paladins this generation, it’s rare enough to see one,” he thought aloud.  “You don’t look like your mother, but as your trainers wrote you have a strong combat strength. I see it runs through the family.”

    “Well your Highness with all due respect I---” Lucia began with a small bow.

    “And the prophecy, it’s unfortunate, together two outsiders must settle the worlds unrest,” the King began to recite.

    “One must make the ultimate sacrifice for the Kingdoms rebirth.  I know the verse by heart your Highness, about that though--” Lucia cut in quickly.

    “--I thought long and hard about your first quest, but it isn’t until I see you now standing before me that I’ve finally made a decision,” He continued on with his grave monotonous voice. Lucia’s eyes lightened at his words. “You look intelligent, cunning, and that is precisely the type of warriors we’re looking for in the Wars of the South.” Lucia’s stomach wrenched into a knot. “I have assigned you and Christian Irving to a partner quest in the Southeastern forests of Kadmir, where the high elves dwell. There has been report that the high elves are joining the horde of trolls. Go and see if this report is true, and report back. When you return, you will join the front lines of the War.”

    Lucia stood and stared, aghast, but she couldn’t linger long. She was quickly ushered away from the King’s presence and into a small lobby-like corridor. Christian waited against the wall, a cheeky grin slipping across his face. “Well partner, let’s go kill some trolls.”